“Sometimes, I still cry.” Besh.

Marq awoke on a padded couch in the lounge. The lights were low, and he had no idea what time it was. He was comfortable, but the arm he'd been lying on was asleep. Rolling away from the couch back, he found himself perilously close to the edge. His right arm would not move, so he raised it with his left hand; he just needed enough balance to sit up without sliding into the floor. As Marq pulled the arm across his chest, it fell from his grip and the hand struck his nose soundly, giving a quick lesson in just how heavy a sleeping hand can be.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, nursing pins and needles, Marq listened to a silent ship. The subliminal hum was still there, slightly more comforting than the absolute silence of space. On bare feet, Marq walked toward the open maintenance room where he stopped to listen and think. He walked to his right, remembering that there was a latrine next to storage. All good, he thought; maybe there were a few hours left before an early rise.

Coming around the lounge to enter across from the hangar, Marq saw an odd sight. In the dim light, Besh sat on the deck before the locked bedroom in somber vigil. Marq tiptoed to his friend's side, looked into his face, and saw that his eyes were open. He sat beside Besh and pulled his legs under him, looking back at his best and only bud.

Besh said in a pained voice, “I'm so lost. Heaven's gone. I mean, is that fair?”

Marq said, “You're in a dark place.”

Besh looked at Marq and said, “Sometimes, I still cry.”

“You never said much about her, and I only met her that once. Before the attack.” Marq left the statement as an invitation to fill in the blanks.

Besh looked down at empty hands. He said, “She was like warm sunshine. I always knew where I was with Heaven. She made sure of it.” Besh looked up, inhaled, and turned the memories over in his head. “She was a Constable in service to the King of Pendragon when I first met her. She was working undercover when Sam got shot.”

“Wait,” said Marq. “Who's Sam?”

“Sam was many things,” said Besh. “I stowed away on his Traul when David called me to look for his missing son.” Besh chuckled under his breath. “I still remember our first meeting. He stood in my face and yelled, 'I'm the Captain of this ship.' Well, he was big and scarred, and I was just a little nervous, but we became friends, and he helped me look for Albert. When he got shot, it was Heaven who set him right, and we were able to get him to a hospital. That's when I found out he was the King of Orlain.”

“Whoa!” said Marq.

Besh said, “When I found out that my old friend Cosmo was actually the guy that caused the war on Pendragon, Heaven went with me to find him. She got shot as I chased Cosmo, and that's when I got marooned. Seven years later, Heaven was serving jointly on a science ship when they found me. Then Sam showed up and saved us.”

Marq said, “You kept running into each other.”

“Yeah,” said Besh. “Sam helped me find the lost Prince. Heaven helped me find my lost friend. Then, both of them helped me rescue the King and Queen when they were kidnapped.”

“Wow!” said Marq. “You really get around.”

Besh continued, “I got burned in the rescue, but I managed to use my key and get through the gate to Jja Suma. A year later, Heaven came to get me. I had no memory, but a memory had been locked in my brain. Heaven protected me. Then, we were called to an alien planet. I couldn't remember at first, but I'd been there before. There was a trial, and I was the star witness. In the fight over the gates; Heaven and I both helped the Nashtatra. There were ups and downs, but while we were on the Wanderlust, it was perfect.”

“You have good memories,” said Marq. “I'm jealous. I got zip.”

Besh looked at his friend and nodded. He appreciated that Marq was trying to comfort him. “You'll get your memories,” said Besh.

Marq said, “If I can find a girl as good as yours.”

“Tall order,” said Besh with a sympathetic smile. “But, you can hope.”

Marq laughed, and joked, “Maybe you can hook me up with Jenny.”

Jenny said, “Not my type.”

“Damn,” said Marq, and laughed with Besh.

Besh said, “We'll be heading to Symalton soon. You can be the rooster in the hen house.”

Marq said, “That's what I'm talking about.”

Besh said, “Time, Jenny.”

Jenny answered, “Four ten AM.”

Besh stood and stretched; Marq followed. The lights came up, and Marq shielded his eyes. “Brutal,” said Marq. “So, I guess it's reveille then.”

“Yep,” said Besh, turning fore. “Jenny, we'd like eggs and sausage, hot coffee, juice, biscuits and gravy, and a stack of pancakes for Marq.”

They left the shuttle in a wooded park southwest of Symalton. It was still dark, and the air was cold. Marq pulled the borrowed jacket around him with a shudder as he watched Besh set the shuttle to stealth mode.

Marq asked, “What if someone comes by and walks face-first into it?”

Besh answered, “It'll hover at tree level.”

The walk into Symalton was brisk. They entered above the urban zone and strolled through empty streets. Besh looked ahead and spied merchants opening shops, and said to Marq, “Let's ask them.”

Stopping before a portly older couple with cheery round faces, Besh said, “Good morning. May I ask a question?”

The older man stopped his labors and turned to Besh with a merchant's eager smile. “Good morning,” said he. “What can I help you with?”

Besh said bluntly, “We're looking for the Shades.”

Losing the smile and turning back to work, the old man said, “We don't hold with criminals.”

Marq gaped at the older couple as he followed Besh down the street. He asked in disbelief, “Are the Shades criminals?”

Besh answered with a question, “Does it matter if they can help?”

Marq asked, “So, what was Jenny telling you before we left?”

“Oh,” said Besh. “She's been monitoring Terran communications and records while I've been gone. She's been looking for Owain.”

“Any news?” asked Marq.

“No,” said Besh. “She checked adoption records, arrival records, news streams for the last thirty years; nothing.”

“Oh, man,” said Marq.

Besh said, “Those are the most obvious sources, but Jenny's also checking things you and I might not think of. The P.I. recommended the Shades. I hope they can help.”

“Look,” said Marq, pulling Besh to a stop, and pointing.

At the end of the street, milling beneath a street light, stood five armored heroes. Besh said, “Let's see what's up.”

As he approached, Besh called out, “Hooah!”

One of the group stepped away, and said in a filtered voice, “What is it, citizen?”

Besh said, “We just zeroed out. Stationed at Thael; fought at Terras Galles.”

The soldier tapped his chest twice in respect, as did the other four. He said, “You have my respect, hero. What brings you to Symalton?”

Besh said, “Looking for a place to settle. Is there a big presence here?”

“Some,” answered the soldier. “Local PD needs help with two fringe groups. The Shades and the Rados.”

“Are they dangerous?” asked Marq.

The soldier turned to assess Marq before answering. “Petty thieves. You see any hooded characters, let us know. Other than that, you might find Symalton to your taste.”

The soldier bid farewell and marched away. Marq asked, “So, they're criminals?”

Besh said, “They may be in the best position to help.”

Marq agreed. “Yeah, but who're the Rados?”

Setting their sights on the city center, Marq and Besh wandered through ever more active streets. More and more, Besh noticed that passersby gave the group a nod. The Shades, they were told, watched out for the business owners along the river street. Besh stopped to touch a city placard; it flashed the street name Plura Calle. They stood west of the riverfront looking down at a large bridge that crossed to the business area. The city center was visible, and just before the bridge, a dark warehouse sat behind stacked crates.

Besh started down the street. He said, “We'll ask along the lower street. Seems they're gearing up for an event.”

As they reached the bridge, three figures stepped from the shadows to confront them. The lead was just over a meter; the other two were just under. They wore loose trousers, and hooded tops with a sleeve pulled up to expose Arm Blades. Under their hoods, the men wore black masks that covered all but the eyes. The tallest spoke in a menacing low voice.

“Heard you boys are looking for the Shades,” said he.

Besh asked, “May I assume that we've found them?”

The tall man held his Arm Blade forward in a prominent gesture, running a hand along its polished surface. He said, “Dark streets don't favor strangers.”

With a straight face, Besh said, “I'm looking for Ume Seht. The private investigator, Sammy, sent me; said you could help find my son.” Besh pulled the address from his shirt pocket and held it out.

The tall man snapped the scrap of synth from his hand, and maintaining eye contact, passed it to the shorter man on his right. The shorter man studied the writing at length, and passed it to the third man, who gave it back to the man in front and said, “Looks like his writing.”

“Through the alley,” said the tall man with a curt nod.

Besh and Marq walked ahead of the three men. The alley was dark and close; there was a tense silence. Suddenly, one of the shorter men muscled past and opened a padlock. He threw back what seemed to be a pile of ropes and chains, but was in fact the door to a cellar. The tall man ushered Besh and Marq through the entrance, leaving the shorter men outside. A light came on to expose a musty basement with covered crates. In the right corner, behind a crate, the tall man opened a trap door.

“Inside,” he said.

Another light exposed a crude tunnel. Turning to face Besh, the man lowered his hood and pulled down his mask. His lean face was tan, and black hair fell over piercing brown eyes. “I'm Tory,” said the man. “Tory York, Ume's second. The others were Carter and Aethelred. Follow me.”

The man was muscular and assured. He spoke not a word as he led Besh and Marq along the tunnel, passing through wells of light from spaced overheads. Turning at an elbow in the tunnel, they were faced with a steel door and a scanning device. Tory placed his palm on the device, and the door slid to the right. Besh was led into a bright room of sandstone with seating carved into the walls. In the right-hand corner, chiseled steps went down into darkness.

“Wait here,” said Tory.

Tory descended the steps leaving Besh and Marq to find a seat. Marq leaned close and said, “Clandestine, but not totally spooky.”

A moment later, Tory returned. “Come with me,” he said.

The steps led to another long tunnel, albeit, with better lighting, and with sealed rooms along the way. At the end of the march was a ladder. A short descent brought them into a tunnel that branched left. The new tunnel had the distinction of being the shortest of the three. People moved between three doorways at the end. Tory opened the central door and ushered them inside. The new room was large and bright. It was circular with doors at the far end, monitoring consoles along the left wall, and a central table that could seat six. Set into the right wall, this one of cement, a low ridge had been covered with red tiles.

Tory indicated the tiles and said, “You can sit here. Ume's on her way.”

Besh and Marq sat. Tory walked to the left wall-mounted monitors. A young woman sat at one of three consoles. She was short, bald, and wore a colorful bandana. The woman wore glasses and a sleeveless top exposing tattoos on her left arm. Tory leaned over and whispered in her ear. She turned to peek quickly at the strangers as two new people entered from one of the doors at the far end. Pausing briefly at the sight of strangers, they walked to the central table and seated themselves, one pulling a chair around to face Besh and Marq, the other sitting on the table.

Confiding in each other with hushed voices, the person in the chair was a curvy female with fiery red hair and green eyes. Sitting on the table was a short muscular male with brown hair, light blue eyes, and tattoos on both forearms. Tory walked over to the table and spoke quietly with the two seated there. Then a woman entered with a tray laden with glasses and a single pitcher of water.

The new woman was fair-skinned with long brown hair and attractive curves. She set the tray down and poured, handing water to those at the table, and carrying a glass to the woman at the console. She filled two more glasses and walked to Besh and Marq.

“Drink,” she said, smiling sweetly at Marq.

Watching the lovely woman walk away, Marq sipped from his glass and nudged Besh. Besh turned to see a licentious grin and turned back to the room. Seven more people entered the room finding seats at the table. Three entered through the right door, three entered through the left door, and one entered through the center door. Tory walked from the table to stand before Besh; he turned and beckoned his comrades.