“Gather around,” he called, and the room moved to stand before the newcomers.

Tory said, “As I said, I'm Tory York, Ume's second in command.” There was light laughter among the ranks. “This is Tor,” said Tory, pulling close the first man to enter from the far doors.

The man said, “Aethelred Steward. Fighter. Pleased.”

Tory pulled around the woman with fiery red hair, and said, “This is Kalle Hanover. Explosives and diversions.” Kalle stepped around Tor with a broad smile and tumbling wavy hair.

As those moved back, Tory pulled a short man forward by the arm. “This is Carter Blois. Weapons and security.”

A man shorter than Tory, Carter smiled beneath medium brown curly hair. In a blue jacket, Carter had blue eyes and pale skin. “We met up top,” said Carter.

Another man came forward in Tory's grip. “This is Donnelly French,” said Tory.

At under a meter, fit and slender, Donnelly had short black hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. “I'm nobody,” he said with an affable smile. “Just a runner.”

Next came Lexi Mora, maps, and planning. She was lithe, tall as Tory, with pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes. After her came Elin Lancaster, another runner. Fit, slender, and under a meter, Elin had long purple hair, blue eyes, pale skin, a pierced nose, and tattoos on her ankles and neck. Besh watched them come forward to be introduced; he took stock of their divergent looks. Brianna Joyce, or Brea, was their sniper. She stood just over a meter, lithe and muscular, her skin was tan, her black hair was cropped close, and she favored a ratty bibbed cap. Besh noticed she wore black cotton gloves with the tips cut away. Raine Walters, at over a meter, was a lithe woman with dark red hair, hazel eyes, and creamy brown skin.

Alastair Angevin and Audra Barrera came forward arms locked, and were introduced as fighters. Alastair was under a meter, fit, with olive-colored skin, black hair, and black eyes. Audra had blue eyes and a curvy sweet disposition. Last to be introduced were Plumisette Gauthier and Mackenzie Little. Mack was the bald girl with the bandana and blue eyes. She was short and curvaceous. Mack was the communications and archive flusher. Plume was albino, bald, and lithe. She was a fighter and had a curious light brown patch across her left eye.

A young woman entered the room and stood by the table; she watched the introductions quietly. Besh noted that she was just under a meter. She was fit and sinewy, slightly dark, of possible African descent. Her long black hair was wavy, but what stood out in an otherwise attractive visage were green eyes. Besh looked past those around him, into those compelling green eyes, and the woman looked back.

Tory, following the line of sight, spotted the woman and ran back to her, receiving a folded synth sheet. He shook out the sheet, and at the same time, whistled the group to him, calling, “Assignments.”

Plume said, turning, “About time.”

Mack said, sounding relieved, “Actual work.”

Audra came to Marq with a smile, and asked, “Want to help?”

Turning to Besh like an expectant child, Marq smiled a desperate eagerness. Besh nodded toward the table. As Marq followed the lovely Audra, Besh heard the woman say, “We'll meet in La Cerro.”

Marq asked, “Is that Spanish? La Cerro?”

“You have to roll your Rs,” said Audra, demonstrating.

“Sorry,” said Marq. “I can roll my eyes if that helps.”

The Shades filed from the room by twos and threes, leaving the boss and Besh. Besh walked to the table and asked, “Ume Seht?”

“I am,” answered the woman. “And you are?”

“Call me Besh,” said he, pulling a chair for Ume. “Sammy said you could help.”

Ume sat, appraising Besh as he took a seat facing her. “Perhaps,” she said. “But, we do not work for free.”

“I have creds,” Besh replied.

“As do we,” said Ume. “I was thinking more of a trade.”

“Go on,” said Besh; try as he might, he could not help but admire the beauty seated in front of him.

Ume sat forward, her eyes piercing and urgent. “We have an important job. Sammy vouched for you; I will give you a chance. Help us and we will help you.”

“What's the job?” asked Besh.

Ume sat back and crossed her arms. She said, “The Shades find what our clients need, but this time we are the clients. We seek an ancient artifact to keep it safe.”

“Safe from whom?” asked Besh.

“From the military,” said Ume, slowly. “From our bane, the Rados.”

Besh prompted, “Tell me about the Rados.”

“I will tell you a story,” said Ume. Besh nodded, and Ume began. “There was a time when the Rados and the Shades worked together. We found and sold artifacts. The leader of the Rados, Alvarado Camacho, worked closely with me. We were to wed. An artifact came between us. Alvarado sold out to criminals, ambushed my team, and killed my father. I have two objectives. Short range, to keep the stela from the Rados. Long range, to kill Camacho. Do you know what it's like to have a loved one killed before your eyes?”

“I do,” said Besh. “I returned to Terra four years ago with my wife, Heaven, to look for my son, Owain. We were drafted to serve at Thael. The Enmen attacked and we fought them in the Bloodlands. A strike took out the Enmen and my wife. So, yeah, I know what it's like. I saw her body buried under the side of a mountain. That's why I've come to you. I want to find her body and give her the burial she deserves. I also need help finding my son.”

Ume nodded as Besh spoke. “You have suffered,” said Ume. “We are the same, you and I.”

Besh had been watching the face of the woman seated before him. He struggled with a sense of familiarity; then he remembered. With a tilt of his head and a smile, Besh said, “I thought you looked familiar.”

“Have we met?” asked Ume.

Besh said, “The docks of Terras Galles. You ran across the docks and nearly got shot. I rolled you over some crates and gave you cover.”

Ume leaned forward to study the face of the man before her. Eyes becoming wide with recognition, Ume said, “That was you.”

Besh asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Ume sat back in her seat, a look of amazement on her pretty face. “Yes,” said she. “In fact, it was the location of the artifact we seek.”

“In for a penny,” said Besh. “I'll help. What do you need?”

Ume stood and looked down into the eyes of the soldier who saved her life. She had been amazed by the soldier's martial skill. Besh looked up into Ume's brown face. He had thought her lovely when he saved her; now she seemed more so. He noticed the scent of lavender and thought it a good match. Besh stood and looked deeply into her eyes; the color of spring leaves. There was an awkward moment where neither spoke with their mouths; rather, their eyes spoke.

Ume cleared her throat and said, “Come with me to the hill; our control center. I will let my people know we have an agreement. You will help us take the stela, and we will help you find your son and wife.”

Ume turned, beckoning, and Besh followed, inhaling lavender. Besh noticed her choice of clothing. She wore a sleeveless top and loose slacks, but she wore top-grade military boots on her feet. Ume turned to wave her hand over a wall pad to lock the doors, before continuing down the tunnel. Besh noted several sizes of tubing along the right wall near the ceiling and guessed they were in a utility tunnel.

Ume said, “These are the tunnels for city utilities and also an ambitious plan to build underground transit. That failed and this section was discontinued before my father died. As you will see, the hill is the initial hub of the transit terminal.”

Besh followed Ume into a large, well-lit chamber. Around the walls were lockers and tables. Lighting streamed brightly from a high ceiling. Mack sat at an operations console under an impressive wall screen. The floor of the circular terminal was raised in the center, and upon that mound of hard-packed dirt sat a swivel chair. Members of the Shades were noisy with cheer as they decked themselves in tactical gear, and checked small arms. Ume walked to the chair, sat, and whistled loudly.

The busy room became quiet, and the members gathered before the chair. Besh stood behind Ume and saw a level of respect given to few. “We have an agreement,” said Ume. “A skilled fighter will help us take the stela. Lexi and Mack will have a plan by the time you return. For now, beware the Rados, avoid the military, and come back to me safely.”

The members turned back to their preparations as if they had been on pause; the cheery noise burst forth at the point it had stopped. A figure separated from the milling Shades and ran to Besh. Marq, smiling excitedly, held out his arms and turned.

Marq said, “I'm a Shade. Check this out.” He opened his hooded top to expose the cryolite beneath. “And look at this,” said Marq, pulling the left sleeve of his gray robe to expose a gleaming Arm Blade. “Brand new. I'm teaming up with Alastair and Audra.”

Ume said, “Come back to us and speak of your success.”

Alastair called from the lockers, “Marq!”

“Got to go,” said Marq, trotting back.

Besh said to Ume, “Well, he's happy.”

Ume replied, “He has purpose.” Standing, Ume turned to Besh with an easy smile. “Come to my room,” she said. “I have something to show you.”

Her room was spartan; a bunk, small table, chair, and a dented metal cabinet. There was clutter on the bed. Besh stood in the door, and said, “Homey.”

“Take the chair,” said Ume, as she sat on the bunk and searched its contents. She handed a folded letter to Besh, and said, “Sammy spoke well of you. I knew you would come.”

Besh sat and shook out the letter. He read aloud, “Ume, I'm sending a client. My sources are exhausted, but I think you can help. And remember, you owe me. I'll stand for him; he's a good man. He's looking for his son. Treat him well; he knows the King of Pendragon. Sammy.” Handing back the letter, Besh shook his head. “I'm glad I didn't tell him all my secrets.”

Ume folded the letter and set it aside. She said with a straight face, “Tell me your secrets. I've heard of Pendragon, but I've never left Terra.”

“It's about five lights up the arm. It has a sister planet named Merlin, and it has two moons called the twins. Nice place.”

Ume said with a modest smile, “Are you testing the water? Jump in with both feet.”

Besh expressed his sudden embarrassment in a laugh; she had called him out. “Alright,” said Besh. “I know the King. I'm sort of his God-uncle.”

“Is he a child King?” asked Ume.

“No, he's about my age,” answered Besh. At Ume's thoughtful expression, Besh said, “I'm older than I look.”

“How old are you?” asked Ume, raising curious eyebrows.

Besh smiled and said, “Fifty-nine.”

Ume sat straight, placing a hand over her mouth. She removed it long enough to say, “No,” and then replaced it. She dropped her hand to say, “I've seen some fit elders, but I can always see the age. You look very young.”

“I was burned,” said Besh. “Badly. I was reconstructed from the DNA up. That was on the planet Jja Suma. The Jjarans are a blue alien race who specialize in medicine.”

“I see,” said Ume. “I think.”

Besh said, “It's sort of hard to take it all in at once. I'll have to feed you my story bit by bit.”

“Good,” said Ume. “It's a start. For now, let us agree to help each other. Come,” she said standing. “A meal. Let me offer you the hospitality of the Shades.”

“Sure,” said Besh, following Ume's lead. “Sounds good.”

The mess was bright and smelled of cleaning chemicals. The room had cold storage and prep stations, but only two small tables, four chairs each. Ume pulled prepackaged meals from storage and put them in a wall-mounted unit, saying, “Five.” When the light came on, she turned to Besh and indicated a table. Sitting, she said, “I was born here in Symalton. I've been around on Terra but never off-world. Have you been to many worlds?”

Besh joined Ume feeling at ease in her presence. “Lost count,” said he. “I was born and raised in the Povre.” Ume nodded pleasantly, and Besh continued. “I flew for the Consortium when I left home; I was in my twenties. My friend and I, Cosmo, were accused of stealing ore, and sentenced to Minor's Moon.” Seeing Ume's recognition of the name, and her dubious expression, he said, “Yeah, that Minor's Moon. We escaped, and I fell in with some aliens called the Nashtatra. Stayed there a while, fell in love with a powerful woman, Theesana, and had a son. Owain. He was sent to Terra about thirty years ago. I can't imagine what he looks like; the Nashtatra have iridescent skin.”