Fugues

It was a quiet and thoughtful group which arrived back at the house that evening. They had achieved their goal; finding the ship and searching it, but the other uncomfortable and unnerving events of the day had left them feeling on edge. Nenka had parted from them on the road down to the village. Ben had thanked him for his help, but was concerned that the youth's easy friendship he had seen at the beginning of the day had gone. He supposed almost stabbing oneself through head off with a lightsaber swiftly followed with almost being eaten alive by marsh wolves might do that to a person.

The Kheelians carried the spoils of their scavenging into the sheds beside the main house. Chana showed Ben a place in one of the side buildings by the garden where he could keep the lightsaber. It contained some farming tools and chemicals, and had a numeric lock on the door that the children did not know the code to, so that fear at least was lessened. By the time they made it into the house, everyone was soaked through and chilled from the mist and falling temperatures. The girls waited impatiently while 'freshers were taken, and while Shaarm and Grandmother handed out hot soup and grol. Ben's only set of clothes were drenched, so it was extremely timely that Shaarm had that day bought a set of Pechnar garments for him in Tzsaaf. There was a set of black trousers and shirt in a dusty blue colour, both oddly tailored tightly around his calves and forearms only to billow out above the knee and elbow. A burnt-orange sleeveless jacket went over the top of the shirt. The girls laughed excessively when he emerged from the washroom in his new attire, particularly as blue was a 'girl's colour'. Ben had no objections at all though, as long as he was dry. Shaarm had still not been able to get any proper footwear for him though, so he would have to rely on his improvised boots for a little longer.

Once the family were all seated, they gave an edited summary of the days events to Tiki and Ooouli, who were thrilled and delighted by the mystery and the romance of a shipwreck. Pakat brought out the holopics that Ben had taken and Ooouli had poured over them. She was disappointed when Ben asked her not to take them in to school to show her friends.

"They might go up onto the moor to look at the wreck," he gave as his reason, "and I don't think it is very safe. Why don't you tell me about your examination today?"

Ooouli had not only successfully passed her Galactic Basic test at school, she had come highest in her year group. The family celebrated her success for several turns and it was the chief topic of conversation throughout dinner. Eventually, bedtime was declared, and the girls were taken off to bed by Grandmother. The remaining group abandoned the table for the comfort of the thickly-carpeted floor. Ben snagged a cushion and found a way to sit that relieved some of the chronic pain in his abdomen and hip. The Kheelians sprawled on the floor nearby. Shaarm leaded back against Chana's broad chest, while Pakat lay at their feet, pouring over the datapad like a sphinx. Without the children present, the three adventurers were free to give Shaarm a full account of what had happened that day. She looked very relieved when they explained that, even though the ship had been crushed, it had clearly contained only one occupant. Her fear that they would find bodies up there was obviously greater than she had made out.

"Despite the damage to the ship, the salvage was good," Pakat was explaining, totalling up a quick inventory of what they had recovered on the datapad. "Much of the metal and ceramisteel we can almost certainly exchange or sell for Ben to others in the village. We might be able to find someone with a use for the rarer pieces in Tszaaf or one of the other towns."

"You will be able to build up quite a stack of credits of your own with all this," Chana nodded appreciatively at the list.

Ben shook his head. "I don't know if the wreck is even mine to give away, but as far as I am concerned, it is all yours. You have provided me with food, clothes and medical treatment, and I am sure none of it has been cheap. I know you did so out of kindness and hospitality, but at least you should not also be out of pocket. You have a family to support after all."

Shaarm frowned, and looked as if she was going to object. Then she saw the stubborn look in Ben's eye, and conceded the fight before it began.

"Very well. If you are determined, I will keep a credit list of your...ah...expenditures. And I will cross those out when we sell or exchange pieces of the salvage. You will have no debts here, for your costs are meagre. Believe me, you eat barely anything at all! Skin and bones…But all the leftover credits, I will return to you."

"In all seriousness, please don't," Ben insisted. "I don't want any part of it. Take the lightsaber too, if you think you can sell it. It means nothing to me."

"The...lightsaber?" asked Shaarm.

"Nenka picked up a weapon of some sort in the wreckage," Pakat explained, and then turned to Ben. "What does it do, this weapon? I did not like to ask at the time, when you seemed so worried. Is it a projectile of some kind? An explosive?"

"It is a blade, formed of plasma energy, which emerges from the handle." Ben said. "It is hot, like a laser. I do not remember how it works, if I ever did know, but I am certain Nenka would had killed himself if he had activated it like that."

Shaarm looked thoughtful. "Lightsaber...I have heard that word, I am sure of it," she said. The others looked at her in astonishment.

"You have! When?"

"Let me think about it...I cannot remember, but I am sure it is familiar..." She tapped the floor a few times, considering, and then beckoned for the datapad from Pakat. Shaarm typed for a few moments, and then looked up triumphantly.

"Got it! And yes, I do remember now….Lightsabers- they are very rare weapons, only found on the central planets. They are used by the Jedi."

She said the word as if it was written Judaai, with all the inflection at the end.

"Jedi?" Ben asked, aware that he was the only one not looking enlightened. "What kind of species are they?"

"It's a group, rather than a race. They are knights, warriors from the Republic."

"I thought they were a religious organisation; monks or something similar," said Pakat.

"I don't know about that," said Chana. "But they have strange powers. I have heard it said that they can fly, see the future, talk to animals. That they cannot die."

Ben felt bewildered with this new information. "And are there Jedi to be found on this planet?"

"No," Shaarm answered, with a graceful shake of her head. "No, there were Jedi here during the Ten Thousand Days' War, but they would have no purpose here now. But tell us, what do you remember about the lightsaber? Clearly it has triggered some recognition for you."

Ben nodded, aware he was going to have to reveal something he had not wanted to tell his hosts.

"I remember the weapon and the name only from a nightmare I had. I was being held captive; there were several men that I saw, and they were trying to get me to tell them something." Ben's hand automatically came up to his neck where the weeping burn was concealed by bandages. He didn't have to say more. Chana gasped, wide eyed.

"They burned you with it?" Pakat looked nauseated, disgusted. "Ben, that's...horrible!"

There wasn't much to say to that, other than to agree. Pakat ran a comforting hand through Ben's hair. Chana and Shaarm were quiet, of which Ben was glad. He didn't feel in need of comfort at that moment. Now he just really, really wanted answers.

"I do not know about you lot, but I need a drink," Chana said. Shifting out from the tangle of limbs, he went to fetch a ceramic flask of the blue drink they'd had at Ben's first meal with the family. He poured a few generous servings, which the others accepted gratefully.

"If these Jedi are half as powerful as you say," Ben considered, letting the warmth of the drink sooth his aches. "Then they must have been a formidable enemy indeed. How did you defeat them during the war?"

Pakat laughed quietly. "Defeat them! We did not defeat them, Ben! They came to help us. They brought humanitarian aid – food, fuel cells, medicines. And they negotiated the peace that ended the war. They saved many Kheelian lives."

Shaarm nodded. "We owe them a great debt."

Ben was beginning to feel uneasy again. A small familiar spike of pain lanced through his head. "But if this weapon can only belong to a Jedi, then a Jedi must be the one who burned me."

The Kheelians looked unconvinced. "They would not do such a thing, I am sure of it," Shaarm said. "They are peacekeepers and negotiators."

They talked more about the escape pod itself, and Ben's dream of the ship. Half the bottle of vok, as he learned the blue drink was called, had been consumed by the time Grandmother returned from settling the girls. She seated herself next to Pakat and accepted a drink gratefully.

"Grandmother; the Jedi," Ben asked. "What do you know of them?"

Grandmother frowned. "Little," she said. "Only what is recorded in the old histories and more recently from the Ten Thousand Days' War. The datastream...?"

"We have already tried," Shaarm said. "There is little outside the events of the civil war." Apologetically, she explained to Ben; "We do not have access to the Republic holonet out here, although there are libraries in the City from where you can use it. Locally, we can access only data which relates to our own history, needs and troubles."

"The Jedi are the keepers of peace," Grandmother said. "They are the Balance. Vessels for the cosmos and its energy."

Ben considered her cryptic words. "So they do have powers," he concluded, "but their use is regulated, limited somehow... Do you know if they have mental abilities – power to control the minds of others?"

Grandmother looked taken aback at the question. "What an odd question. I do not know," she answered. The others shook their heads too.

"I had a different dream, about a man," Ben said. "Full of energy and frustration. We were walking down a corridor but I didn't remember him, didn't trust him. He wanted me to go with him somewhere. I refused, and he...I don't know...he made me, somehow."

"He kidnapped you?" Pakat asked, trying to clarify. "Threatened you?"

"No, that's not what I mean. He made me want to go with him; it seemed like a spell or some other influence, and after he spoke, all I wanted to do in the whole universe was go with him wherever he went."

"Did that man...hurt you as well?"

Ben shook his head. "Not that I remember. He just talked to me, and I went with him to his ship. Perhaps that is how the Jedi captured me. And another thing...Shaarm, you were sure that I did not have a head wound serious enough to account for my amnesia. But if these Jedi can control minds, then maybe they can control memories too. Maybe they erased mine, and made me forget."

"I cannot believe it," Chana said, shaking his head. "The Jedi did so much good here at the end of the war. They are heroes to our people, as you know. I cannot believe that they could be so cruel..."

"I was kidnapped, starved, burnt, and beaten, and you're telling me all that was done by the good guys…?" Ben's tone was unapologetically dry. Must be the influence of the vok. He put a hand to his beard, frowning. "Which, if true, raises its own unsettling and problematic conclusion..."

The Kheelians all gave him a look which clearly showed they were done with 'unsettling' for the night.

With obvious reluctance, Chana asked; "What is that?"

"Someone went to great lengths to get some information from me. When they were done, it seems as if they wiped all memory of it from my mind, and then left me for dead. And the only people who seem to be able to do all those things are hero peacekeepers." Ben felt a cold shiver pass through him.

"So I am forced to wonder….what was it that I did that was so terrible it would motivate peacekeepers to torture someone quite so cheerfully?"

No-one had an answer to that.

They stayed up long into the night, dispatching the rest of the bottle of vok. At first, they talked about the ship, the Jedi, and Ben's dreams. Shaarm wrote down everything that Ben could remember about the fragments of recollection which had come to him – the flashes of torture; electric currents and booted feet, broken fingers, the 'saber burn, and the two men he had seen. She also made him recall every time he had suffered a nosebleed or head pains, and made a note of that. She seemed troubled by it. Tomorrow, she declared, she would set him up under a fake name as a new patient at her medical facility. The following day there should be few staff on duty, and she take him over to Tszaaf, to the surgery. She could use the diagnostic equipment there to check he was healing properly, and to run some tests to see if they could determine what was causing the memory loss.

After this decision was made, the conversation turned to a lighter note. After all, their worries were based on guesswork and speculation, and no matter how much longer they mulled it over, there would be no more answers to be had. Pakat was soon regaling Grandmother with the tale of a disastrous research trip he had been on to the southern deserts, when the team had been hit by the worst freak monsoon in history, and their entire compound had washed away. The director of the exploration had been left standing up to his waist in river water trying to hold their last bottle of vok out of the flood. Soon, the Kheelians were taking it in turns to tell more and more outrageous stories about their past exploits and adventures. Grandmother, it emerged, had enjoyed quite a wild youth and had a sense of humour that was bordering on wicked. Ben was both taken aback and delighted at this new facet of his hosts. With no recollections of his own to add to their tale-telling, he sat listening quietly, but nevertheless enjoying himself immensely.

Eventually, Ben's headache grew to such an intensity that not even the numbing vok could drown it out. He was forced to accept some pain-relieving tablets and retire to bed, although not even the ache in his temples and neck could dampen his mood now. Even the thought of mysteriously powerful enemies threatening from every shadow could not bring him anxiety tonight. Soon, he was lulled by laughter and alcohol into a deep, dreamless sleep. His last thoughts were of his former captors. They must have been the ones to wipe his memory, and therefore, if it was information they wanted, they must know he was useless to them. Even if they could find out where his pod had crash-landed, and somehow also knew that he had survived, these Jedi surely would not continue to pursue him. Would they?

"Pechnar! There was a Pechnar in the valley!"

A Kheelian voice, loud but muffled and marred by static, echoed through the house. Ben, sitting at the table, started in alarm. Grandmother patted his wrist.

"It is only Nenka," she said."On the telewire." She pointed to a small box on the wall, just as Nenka's voice issued from it again.

"Uncle Chana! Ben! Are you there?"

She was glided gracefully over to the communications box, and depressed the speaker button.

"Nenka? This is Grandmother."

Nenka's voice suddenly took on a more respectful tone, though it was no less urgent.

"Grandmother, good day to you. Is Uncle Chana there, please?"

"He is out working, young one. Pakat is here..."

As if summoned, Pakat rushed into the main room from his small study laboratory, passing Ben at high speed. He took over from Grandmother with a respectful half bow.

"Nenka? Is that you? This is Pakat."

"Uncle Pakat!" Nenka's voice sounded beyond excited, like he was about to burst. "Is Ben there? You have to tell him there are other Pechnar in the valley! I just heard about it; Taaki was in the shop, she didn't see it of course, but it was-"

Oh, this was not good. Ben struggled up to his feet, limping over to Pakat's side. The telewire was clearly a two-way system, but Pakat had to wait for Nenka's flow of words to come to an end before he could transmit.

"Nenka, listen. Are they here, in Thet? Start from the beginning."

"No, Uncle Pakat, they were in Graldit village, apparently. Two days ago, or more. Taaki's cousin saw it, and he told Taaki, and she was just in the shop buying tarvaroot and she told me."

Grandmother leaned over Pakat impatiently, and pressed the transmit button. "Nenka. Just tell us what she told you."

It transpired, when Nenka finally got to the point, that Taaki's cousin had been out tending to some livestock in the fields of a village further down the valley when he had seen a figure by the fence. He went over, thinking it was one of the village children, only to discover a Pechnar. The Pechnar had babbled at him in an unknown language, pointing towards the cliffs, with an air of increasing frustration, before turning and marching back up the road out of sight. For Nenka, this was clearly a sign that Ben's friends had come to rescue him. For Ben, Pakat and Grandmother, especially in light of the previous night's conversation, it couldn't have seemed more ominous.

"Did he get a description?" Ben asked, but, of course, Taaki's cousin had only described the alien creature as small, pink and furless. It's hair might have been brownish, but then again, all Pechnar looked the same after all.

"This is good news!" Ben could all but hear the young Kheelian's beaming naive smile through the teleline. "Your Pechnar friends must have tracked the escape pod you used, and now we just have to tell them where you are, and they come for you!"

"Nenka, you must not do that," Grandmother sounded worried. "You must not tell anyone about Ben."

"Why?" How will they known where to come to collect him?" Nenka sounded confused.

Ben looked at the other two. He could tell that they didn't want the younger Kheelian to hear anything of the truth, but Ben knew he was going to need at least the teen's circumspection, if not his active help, if he was to stay hidden. But first Ben had to impress on him the seriousness of their concerns. Without scaring him, of course.

"Pakat?" Ben gestured to the wall-mounted comm-box, high out of his reach. Pakat lifted him easily up to a small table from where he could reach the transmit button.

"Nenka, it is Ben. I am sorry that I didn't tell you this before, but I need your help now. Some memories have returned to me. I think I was held captive by Pechnar, and it was while escaping them that I crashed here. I don't know for sure, but I fear that they have tracked the pod. They have realised that I was not killed in the crash, and now they might be looking for me. I wish that I could believe these Pechnar were friends, but I can't, not when there is a chance they may be dangerous to me or to Kheelians."

There was nothing but static from the other end of the line. Ben could feel Grandmother glaring at the back of his head but he did not turn round. She may not approve, but he felt he had gained a good measure of Nenka's character up on the moor. The young Kheelian had handled a crashed spaceship, a dangerous weapon, the threatening narms, and not least a limping, bipedal amnesiac alien. The teen had been nervous, yes, but the fact that he had called today to speak to them showed he had not been scared off. He would cope with this too. Sure enough;

"Right," Nenka's voice was firm. "I suppose even if you are not sure, we will have to guess that they do not mean well, just to keep everyone safe. What should I say if anyone asking about you comes into the shop? So far I said we went to the moor because you're helping Pakat with research on narms."

"That's good," Ben said, encouragingly. Too late to hide his presence in Thet completely; too many people had seen or heard of him. If he had an apparently legitimate reason for being here, that might help.

"He could be a visiting Pechnar researcher, from the City." Pakat added, taking over the comm-box momentarily from Ben. "That should be believable. But I should just say you don't know anything else if people ask other questions."

"Right, Uncle Pakat."

"If any Pechnar come," Ben added, "Tell them I was here, but that I left a few days before, on the train." Hopefully then, thought Ben, they will leave you all alone, and pursue me. "Let us, Chana or Shaarm know if you hear anything else.

"I will, Ben." Nenka sounded excited again. "I have to go; a customer just come in, but I will remember what you said. Be careful! Fare well Pakat and Grandmother."

The comm-box let out a static buzz as Nenka disconnected. Ben scrambled down from the counter, and turned to look at Grandmother. Her expression was thunderous.

"I apologise," Ben said. "I know you would wish to keep the children in the belief that there is no darkness in the world. But Nenka is nearly an adult, isn't he? And he deserves to know the danger that the other Pechnar might prove. If anyone was looking for information on a stranger in a village like this, you would look in the med-centres or tavern first, and in the absence of those, the village shop."

"How do you know that?" Pakat asked.

Ben rubbed his beard, a little ruefully. "It is what I would do." he said.

"I am not happy," Grandmother said. She sat back on her haunches and folded her forearms. "You should have asked us before you told him anything."

"I am sorry," Ben said again, "But I still know I made the right decision. Nenka has shown himself to be strong and capable already. If there is danger following me, then the only way I can truly keep you all safe is to leave."

The two Kheelians stiffened perceptibly.

Ben smiled; "I gather you would not be happy with that solution either. You really want me to stay? Even if it brings strangers to your village?"

"Yes, Ben." Grandmother said. "It would be unforgivable for a guest to be unwelcome at their hosts house, you know that."

"I know," Ben sighed a little, "but I was not an invited guest, and I may bring even more uninvited trouble with me. But either way,I am grateful beyond words for your hospitality. What I can do is ensure that Nenka will not be taken by surprise if people do come looking for me. If they think I am not here, well, then we will all be safer."

Grandmother sighed, and then unfolded her arms, stroking Ben's hair, indicating her forgiveness. "I understand," she said quietly.

Ben accepted the physical contact in contemplative silence. It had been, up until that moment, a pleasant morning. Ooouli and Shaarm had gone into town as usual, Ooouli to school, and Shaarm to the surgery. It was still her intention to take Ben in the next day and run a full examination to check his healing. His previous treatment when he first been found unconscious on the family's doorstep had apparently been from a veterinarian in the town, who had owed Chana a favour. To attend a proper clinic he would need full ID which he obviously did not have. Shaarm's plan, as far as he could tell, was to run his treatment under a different patient's name when there weren't other staff around. Ben had been anxious about her risking getting into trouble on his account, but she had brushed his concerns aside. Tzsaaf was a small town, and records were misplaced all the time, she assured him.

After Ooouli and her mother had left, Pakat had closeted himself away in his laboratory at the back of the house to run the water samples they had taken on the moor. Tiki and Ben had ostensibly been "helping" Grandmother in the garden plot, although in reality they were making more of a mess. Ben discovered he did not have what Grandmother called green fingers, although he enjoyed the serenity and sense of life which the garden gave. Tiki had been laid down for a nap for a standard turn or so, and Ben had busied himself repairing some of the electrical items that had been retrieved from the ship. Then the comm-box had let out its loud chirp, and Nenka's voice had shattered the peaceful morning.

Pakat recalled Ben's attention to the present with a pat on the shoulder as he passed by over to the table.

"Do you think that telling them that you have left will be enough to send them away, if they do come here?" Pakat asked.

Ben shrugged. "Honestly? I have no idea, but probably not. If they have followed me all the way here, they would very likely stay long enough to check and make certain. It is tomorrow that I am mainly concerned about. If I was hunting for someone that I knew was injured on an unfamiliar planet, the medical centres would be a key place to lay surveillance."

"If anyone did see you though your new clothes make you look quite different," Grandmother pointed out. "Almost like a native Pechnar."

Ben rubbed his beard musingly. "I could change my appearance further."

"How?" Pakat did not sound convinced. "Pechnar all look quite alike anyway. I do not mean any offence of course," he hastily added when Ben laughed.

"None taken, my friend," Ben assured him. "But I could cut off my beard, change the colour of my hair...all of those things would help."

The Kheelians glanced at each other, almost shocked.

"Kheelians do not change the colour of their fur," Grandmother said. "Its colour is what defines who you are. How could you change that? It would be like cutting off an arm."

"Pechnar cut, shape or colour their hair to express who they choose to be," Ben tried to explain. "Or in this instance, to hide who I was. I think if we looked, we could find something here that would work to dye mine. And do you perhaps have a sharp blade I could borrow?"

One they realised he was in earnest about his hair and beard, Grandmother and Pakat moved into action. Pakat took a few strands of Ben's hair to test against various chemicals in his lab. The Kheelians didn't have anything like a razor, of course, but Grandmother had a small pair of sewing scissors and a small straight-edged kitchen knife which she sharpened to within an inch of its life. She took over the task of trimming Ben's beard and hair when it became clear he was struggling to work the scissors with his healing fingers. Ben could help but feel slightly nervous with the Kheelian's large hands wielding a blade so close to his neck. It was worse when she got round to shaving the injured side of his neck and chin. The wound still felt hot and tight, even after however many days. Ben wondered if his beard would ever grow back through the scar it would undoubtedly leave.

Pakat returned with a hair dye solution just as Ben came back in, drying his now beardless chin. The Kheelian did a double take, starring. Grandmother gave a laugh.

"I was wrong! You do look different.. It is...extremely odd." Pakat touched Ben's smooth face. "This is very strange."

It was Ben's turn to laugh. "Well I'm glad that you think it worked. I liked my beard; it would have been a shame to lose it for nothing."

Pakat showed them the results he had produced with his home-made hair dye. There was a small nut which grew on an edible plant in their garden, which Pakat knew historically had been used to make ink and dye for clothes. He had mixed it with a few other chemicals, and it seemed to have taken to the few strands of Ben's red-auburn hair he tested it on. They took the plunge and gave it a try. It took three applications, but by the time they had finished, Ben's hair was a dark, nut brown. He stared at his face in a small mirror that Pakat held it up, observing he had a slight cleft in his chin and an old, half-moon scar on his jaw. His pale skin looked even more drained against the now dark strands of his hair. His eyes, he noticed for the first time, were a sort of dull grey in shadowed sockets. Ben looked away, satisfied that their work was done, but disconcerted by once again looking into the face of a man he did not know.

The disguise was proved to be successful when Tiki, who had wandered sleepily into the room, gave a shriek at the sight of him and dashed over to Pakat to hide behind his legs. It took several minutes to persuade her that this was still Ben, and even longer for her to go over to touch his new face and hair. The little girl screwed her face up, but didn't cry.

"He's not like Benben any more," she mumbled into Pakat's shoulder when he picked her up. The grown-ups pointing out that the drawing of folk hero Benborena in her picture book didn't have a beard either had not helped.

Grandmother took Tiki off the to kitchen to set about making an afternoon meal. Within a few moments, Tiki seemed to have sufficiently recovered from her shock, and childish shrieks of laughter quickly floated out into the living room. Pakat looked Ben over once more, as if comparing him to his memory of the previous day.

"I think you should not be recognised," the Kheelian concluded after a moment or two. "You really do look like a child now! You will need to wear a scarf to cover the bandages on your neck, of course, which they may look for. And you should probably remove your bracelet."

Ben turned back in surprise. "My what?"

"This?"

Pakat tugged on Ben's sleeve and revealed the thin metal band on his wrist. Ben stared at it in astonishment. Of course, the bracelet. He had noticed it the first day he had woken up here, but after that it had slipped his mind completely. How odd that he should have forgotten it. Anyone searching for him would, of course, be looking for such an obvious marker of his identity.

"Yes, of course." Ben tugged at the band futilely for a few moments. It really would not fit over his hand. Pakat returned with some soap, but even coating Ben's wrist with it was not enough for the bracelet to slide off. Ben inspected the band closely. The red veins seemed to glow with some inner fire, and the thin lines looked more like scrawling letters now that he thought about it. He turned his wrist over, and saw the lines extend all the way around, up to a narrow line. Ben ran his thumbnail over the mark; it was a join where the two halves of the band met. He pushed at the joint, but couldn't get enough pressure with his one hand to lever the pieces apart.

"Can you try?" He held out his arm out to Pakat. After a while the Kheelian managed to work his broad fingertips between Ben's wrist and the metal, and pressed in on both sides of the band. There was a faint click. The bracelet bent apart on an invisible hinge, falling away from Ben's arm.

For a moment, Ben felt nothing. There was a strange sound like a distant river.

Ben saw Pakat hold up the bracelet, looking at it closely. "It's beautifully made," he was saying. "Put it somewhere safe until you can wear it again." He lifted up Ben's hand and dropped the bracelet into it.

The rushing sound grew louder, like the rising of a great wave or the burn of a starship's engine. Ben felt all sensation drain out of him. Cold paralysis burst out from his chest and flooded into his limbs. He watched as the silver band fell from his numb fingers, and he fell after it, into darkness.

Thank you to all readers and reviewers!