Chapter 14

There's an old Terran saying that a lot of Bengalans have adopted. I'm not saying we as a race are overly pragmatic, but when part of your heritage is that of a feral predator, patience is pretty much written into your DNA. The saying is: How do you eat an elephant? (whatever that is). The answer: One bite at a time.

The saying illustrates the art of taking a large, seemingly overwhelming problem presented to you, and breaking it down into smaller, more manageable goals, each one contributing to the greater goal. With this philosophy, impossibly huge problems no longer seem so. Instead, they're dealt with in small pieces over a longer amount of time. Pragmatism...patience...

But never losing focus...

Planning to leave Bengalis was just such an elephant-sized problem. While money wouldn't be a problem thanks to my job on the docks, it wasn't that easy just to up and leave. There were three ways off Bengalis available to anyone. One was legal, one illegal, and the other was a subtle mix of both which, while rewarding, was still filled with risk.

The first way, the legal way, was obvious. All you had to do was log onto the Hypernet, access any number of travel agencies, and book a flight from the orbital station. Most packages included the price of the shuttle flight from the planet to the station, and after the necessary security and customs checks you soon found yourself aboard your ship, en route to the stars. While it sounds great, the security and customs checks involved an examination of your travel documentation, which came under heavy...and I mean heavy...scrutiny.

Thanks to the Lakayan civil war, guerrilla and terrorist warfare were foremost in everyone's mind. After crashing several transit shuttles in the name of their cause, the rebel factions in Lakaya had made the rest of the world almost too terrified to fly. As a result, security checks were conducted at many stages of the process. It had worked to some extent, as confirmed terrorists were found, captured, and in many cases executed on the spot.

The trouble there was that an exile's credentials, though good, were not good enough to pass such heavy examinations. I remember asking Silas about this, and his warning was all I needed. To simply purchase a ticket under my assumed identity would be akin to signing mine and Te'Ki's death warrants.

The second option open to us was the illegal one, which came down to stowing away. With enough of a bribe, a transit shuttle cargo officer would gladly look the other way as you snuck into the hold. When you arrived at the station, you could either bribe the cargo officers there to let you go, or try to sneak out on your own. After that, you were pretty much on your own in terms of getting off the station. Stowing away on an outbound ship was far from easy, and if you chose that route, you also accepted that if you were caught, your execution was both imminent and quickly carried out.

Spacing was a commonplace punishment for stowaways as it drastically cut down on any required paperwork or criminal processes the crew had to endure. Space travel wasn't as much a game of resource balancing and near-obsessive tracking as it had been a century or two ago, but the kind of frontier justice that had been cultivated during those times still existed to this day. Again, if Te'Ki and I were caught, our last embrace would be as we were sucked out an airlock and condemned to death in the cold reaches of space.

The final option open to us involved patience, pragmatism, and time...lots and lots of time. The final option was to hire on with a ship's crew. Transient workers were commonplace in the freighter industry. Many ships were glad to have a few extra hands on board for one or two segments of their runs, as some trips were more intense than others.

The security checks for transient workers weren't as stringent as they were with normal travel, largely because it was the discretion of the captain and his or her crew. Each ship was its own sub-culture within the Confederation...a group of people of different races and religions. What mattered to them most was the preservation of their culture, which meant the smooth, proper operation of their ship. If two strong hands could contribute to that, what did it matter where those hands came from?

Of course, not all ships were so easy going. Some demanded a payment of some sort from the prospective worker, be it money, drugs, or to serve as the proverbial 'cabin boy' for the duration of the trip. It was a risk, but one that could be reduced by gaining a rapport with any particular crew. It could take months or even years depending on the frequency of the ship's visit, but in the end, you could potentially sign on with a crew that would treat you like family.

This was my plan: To gain that kind of rapport with a ship's crew, and get Te'Ki and I signed on as workers. However, in order to do that, I needed to get to the orbital station, and to do that, I needed a reason. My best bet for that would be to work on the spaceport side of the Port Authority, but to get there I had to first pass my evaluation period. It was by no means a quick fix solution, but it was the best way I knew to both secure a way off this rock, and to protect the woman I loved as best I could.

Time passed blissfully. Before I knew it, an entire month had passed since my Coming of Age...since that night Te'Ki and I both admitted our love for each other.

Life had become a routine for the both of us...a wonderfully normal routine that provided not only focus, but a measure of stability in both our lives. By this time, Te'Ki had done as I had and gotten a new identity from the Foundation. Now, when we were out, she was Theresa Marris, an expatriate from the island country of Thanasia. So long as we were careful to keep relatively low profiles, the two of us were able to blend into the non-Clan world as though we'd always belonged.

Maybe, in some way, we did...

My job at the docks had taken on a new appeal to me since the start of my ultimate plan to leave Bengalis. Now, instead of merely doing what I was told and completing my tasks adequately, I strove to exceed everyone's expectations. Anyone whom I was partnered with I tried to learn from. Most of the time, my co-workers were glad to teach me, and I soaked it all in like an over-eager pupil. Allister commented on more than one occasion that I was a refreshingly enthusiastic worker. I could only hope that such a comment would look good for me when my evaluation time came up.

Another reason for my desire to be the best I could was, of course, the darker side of working at the docks. Memories of the ocelot admitting his status as an exile, and then having an 'accident' was always foremost in my mind when I was working. I knew what really happened, even though I couldn't prove it. I could also single out those responsible though no one would ever support me should I accuse them. Instead I chose to simply work hard and not draw any suspicion my way. The last thing I needed now was to be at the mercy of some kind of lynch mob.

Then again, given what I was doing after work, there were times when I've wondered if maybe...just maybe...a lynch mob would have been a fun challenge.

I was no expert yet, and my number of times hitting the mat hard were still high, but as the weeks progressed in my training I was beginning to feel better. Physically speaking, there was no doubt at all that I could tear an opponent apart. However, combat is more than a mere physical match-up. Landing the perfect blow, I learned, was only a tiny facet of battle. There were also the mental and psychological aspects of it, and it was those I was having the hardest time trying to master.

Mechanically, my moves were still a little stiff and ponderous, but what Sensei continuously commented on was my inability to read my opponent. Over and over, he insisted that in the blink of an eye, I should be able to take in my surroundings, and know all there is about my opponent's abilities and weaknesses. It was by no means an easy thing to do, nor was it ever something anyone had ever truly mastered. There were no hard and fast rules as to how an opponent would act, but over time I did start picking up on a few common visual cues.

Stance was one of the easiest ways one could read an opponent. Regardless of fighting style, the movement of one's feet often spoke volumes of someone's experience, aggression, and in some cases weakness. A more seasoned fighter, one who'd gone a round or two, would often assume a confident, strong pose, while a more inexperienced one would constantly shift their feet. While this was not always the case, Sensei insisted that it was a good foundation from which to start.

Keeping this in mind, I not only began watching how my opponents stood, but I also became aware of how I stood. I slowly began to realize why Grandfather had stressed the importance of proper posture in the War Hall. Oftentimes, just radiating a sense of confidence and experience was enough to diffuse what could become a violent situation.

However, that wasn't always the case. As I would soon learn, all the confidence in the world counts for nothing unless you're ready to back it up somehow, and even then that's no guarantee...

Had someone told me on the night those serval children were murdered that I'd someday be filled with happiness, I would have spat in their face. Yet, after so many weeks of uneventful bliss, that's exactly how I felt: Happy. Smiles came to my face so easily that I was amazed no one commented on it. Not once during that entire month did I feel like an exile. Instead, I felt the way I thought everyone else did. There was nothing special or tragic about me or Te'Ki. We were just two people in love, working our way through life with smiles on our muzzles and eyes bright with the promise of tomorrow.

Maybe I was pushing it, but at work I was beginning to develop a sense of righteous indignation towards those I knew as exiles. I no longer considered myself one of them, mostly because I'd made the choice to do something with my life. Sure, any exiles I met at the docks had chosen to work rather than rely solely on charity, but the way they moved about...the way they all looked...it had been less a choice born out of desire and more one born from necessity.

I didn't want to seem arrogant around them, but it wasn't easy to remain on friendly terms. Time and again I would be stopped or confronted in secret by one or more of them, and in the beginning I did my best to remain civil towards them. Some of the ones I met seemed friendly enough, but it didn't take long before I knew the whole story behind their exile, and how the Patrons had abandoned them, and other such emotional matak. At this point I would usually take my leave of them, and avoid them as much as possible. Yes, I was still and exile, and yes I had my own sob story as to how I ended up in this predicament.

But gods be damned if I was going to wallow in it.

If I ever found myself beginning to waver in my confidence, or feel wistful about the cruel hand Fate had played on me, all I had to do was open the door or my dwelling and all of it disappeared. The moment my eyes beheld Te'Ki's smiling face I was reassured that everything was more than all right...it was perfect.

Free of her sickness, my beloved cougar began to show me a side of her I had never expected. I never thought in a million years that such a free spirit could have found its way into my heart the way she had. Her embrace was warm and loving, her kisses filled with passion, and her voice...gods...it was as though she'd been sent down to me from Paradise itself. No matter my mood, all she had to ask was "How was your day?" and I'd instantly feel better.

Nearly every night that first month was spent in the throes of passion. She was insatiable, and rather adventurous. Some evenings we would melt into the deep woods surrounding our dwelling...no...our home...and find a secluded spot. On those nights we would make love tenderly, letting our senses become overwhelmed by the sights and smells of the outdoors, as well as the all-encompassing desire for each other.

Some nights we mated with reckless abandon, rutting like two animals driven solely by instinct. Other nights were long, drawn out affairs where we would play, tease, and tantalize each other into a frenzy of pent-up lust. Regardless of how hard or how long, afterwards was almost always the same. We would hold each other close, share tender kisses and caresses, and whisper quiet overtures of our love to each other. Sleep would soon overtake us then, and we would often drift off into blissful unconsciousness, letting our bodies rest and recuperate for the next day.

Alas, a good night's sleep was a rare thing during that first month. More than once, I would wake to hear her crying in her sleep, or whimpering like a wounded kitten left for dead. On those nights I would draw her close to me, and after a few deep breaths, she would relax and snuggle up against me. I often wondered what she was dreaming about on those nights, but when I asked her I would simply get the common excuse of "I honestly can't remember."

Something in her dismissal about it told me she was hiding something, but I figured it would be better for her to come to me with it rather than push her into an explanation. The last thing I needed was tension and distrust in the one place I felt safest.

So instead, I chose to focus on our still-evolving relationship, as well as the daily routine that was becoming our lives. On days I wasn't training she would meet me after my shift and we'd spend a few hours in the city, either merely wandering, or shopping for the necessities. My first pay check from work was rather substantial and, having no utilities or other financial commitments, was more than enough to give us a good head start on making that exile's dwelling a real home...a place where not only could one exist...they could really and truly live.

In order to accomplish that, we needed the ability to do three things: Store food, cook it, and clean up afterwards. Thanks to the wonders of micro-fusion technology, two of these requirements were easy to meet. While not so popular with the Clans, cottage living was a very popular thing on Bengalis. It was a way for people to escape the daily hustle and bustle of city living and get closer to nature...well...so they said anyway.

While some were satisfied with using open fires and cold streams to store and cook their food, others weren't quite ready to make that big a leap back in time. Some still wanted to live like they did in the city, just without all the noise and crowds, which eventually led to the invention of fusion cell-powered appliances. Once activated, a fusion cell provided consistent power to an appliance for up to ten years before needing replacement. At that point, most people simply traded in their old appliances in favour of a newer model. The old appliance was then often refurbished, fitted with a new power cell, and sold at a substantial discount.

Substantial enough, that Te'Ki and I could easily afford both a full-sized refrigerator and a cooking stove with my first pay check. Of course, getting them delivered to the dwelling was another matter entirely. Thankfully, Grandfather was able to help out there. He transported everything to the estate, and under cover of night he had them quietly delivered them to the dwelling.

Even after two large purchases like that, there was enough money left over to buy enough food to last until my next payday, as well as some clothes for ourselves. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't done it in so long, but I actually enjoyed wandering through the different clothing stores, trying on different things, and waiting while Te'Ki tried on outfit after outfit...after outfit. In the end we'd done rather well for ourselves, both now having plenty of casual wear, as well as some more formal clothing in case we wanted to have a night on the town.

It may sound strange, but it was during these seemingly routine errands and the like that I realized just how much I loved her. Just being near her...being together...told me that the life of an exile didn't have to be a death spiral of depression and loss. Even in what should have been the darkest time of my life, I'd found a light...a beacon keeping me from the all-encompassing night that had enveloped so many others in my situation. There was no putting into words the way she made me felt during those times. I only prayed that she felt a fraction of the same way about me.

I was soon to find out that sometimes, when prayers are answered, you get a lot more than you bargained for...

As the weekend of my third retreat approached, I decided that I wanted to do something special for Te'Ki. All the time I was away, either working or training, she had been just as busy turning our humble little dwelling into a home. She was an excellent cook, and even though I offered to help around the place, more often than not she insisted that she could take care of any cleaning or other domestic chores.

"After all," she said. "I need something to do while you're away."

I still felt a little guilty about being away for so many hours out of the day, and not doing as much as she was around the house. I decided that the night before my retreat that I'd treat her to a night on the town: Dinner, maybe some dancing...a real, honest to the gods date.

During my shift, I agonized over where I could take her. Admittedly I didn't know too much about fine dining establishments in the downtown area; those that I did know catered mostly to the Clans, and the last thing I needed was to be recognized by someone in a place like that.

One of my non-Clan friends, Risha Goddard, once told me about a place her father had taken her and her family on a few occasions. It was a fairly respectable place that catered to all facets of so-called 'decent' society. The place was called Serin's, and while the prices were rather steep when compared to other restaurants, I figured one night of extravagance was not only justified, it was necessary.

Once my shift ended and I was cleaned up I used my ID card to make a reservation for Te'Ki and I. The transit shuttle couldn't arrive quickly enough, and I felt I was vibrating with anticipation for the entire trip home. I was so anxious to spring this on her that when the shuttle finally stopped and I got off, I tore off towards the tree line at a full sprint.

In spite of my excitement, I was careful to not burst through the door to our place. The last thing I wanted to do was give her a start, or worse yet have her throw a frying pan at me, thinking I was some Shatlia or something. I told her about the planned date for tonight, and she was absolutely overjoyed. She started rifling through her clothes, looking for something to wear, and actually shooed me out of the house while she was getting changed...something she'd never done before.

After several minutes she finally opened the door and allowed me back in. The moment I laid eyes on her I suddenly realized just why she'd shooed me out. She was wearing a blue dress, very similar to the black one she'd worn on my Coming of Age, but it came below the knee in terms of length. Over top of that she wore a small black topcoat, and a pair of sensible-heeled shoes adorned her feet. She was a combination of elegant, sophisticated, and dead sexy all at once.

"We're going to be late if you keep gawking," she chastised, which snapped me out of whatever trance I was in. I hadn't even realized I'd been staring so intently at her until she said that. Quickly I rummaged through my clothes and found something a little more formal to wear. It didn't take long for me to change, and when I was finished I looked over at Te'Ki. She smiled, and then licked her chops slowly before heading for the door.

I was beginning to wonder at that point if maybe we should have skipped dinner altogether...

I was grateful when we finally stepped off the transit shuttle. The ride into the downtown core had been anything but peaceful, thanks to a few people who'd gotten on not long after we had. They were Clansmen, not much older than us, and they seemed rather intent on getting into some mischief this night.

As we rode, Te'Ki and I were subjected to listening to a near never-ending stream of mutual ego-stroking, trash talking...the usual kind of dialogue one hears from people with too much testosterone in their systems. Young as I was, I couldn't help but smirk at their naivete I'd wager the most action these folks had seen was in their respective War Halls, sparring either with their siblings or their Sensei. They probably had no idea what it meant to truly fight for your life, where the combat doesn't merely end with a command from your trainer. For their sakes, I hoped they would never have to be taught such a lesson.

They'd tried to bring us into their little conversation a few times, but both Te'Ki and I merely responded either with polite nods or by outright ignoring them. Thankfully, the anticipation of them getting into something later on distracted them enough to not pursue and provocation with us for long. Still, when our stop finally arrived we were only too happy to disembark and leave them to whatever they were planning to do that night.

After a short walk from the transit stop, we finally arrived at Serin's. There was an elderly leopard attending the door, and with a gentle smile he opened it and ushered us inside. Once in the foyer we were greeted by the maitred', who also greeted us with a smile.

"Do you have a reservation?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I said, unconsciously slipping into a more formal Clan-like tone. "For Kain, party of two."

The maitre d' accessed the datapad he was holding for a few moments before looking back at us. "Right this way," he said.

The restaurant was laid out much like any other I'd ever been to. Secluded booths lined the edges of the dining area, which was populated with several tables. The tables ranged in size from being able to seat two all the way up to several people. Judging from the number of occupied tables, I felt fortunate that I'd made a reservation.

The maitre d' thankfully led us over to one of the empty booths. He made sure we were both seated comfortably before handing each of us a menu. "Your server should be here shortly," he said with a smile. "Enjoy your evening." We both nodded as he turned on his heel and made for his post back at the foyer.

I took a moment to look over the menu, and was rather surprised to see it wasn't made of nano-flex. In most restaurants these days, the menus are directly networked to the kitchen's order display. All you had to do was select what you wanted, choose any options you might want to include (or exclude depending on your taste), and within a few minutes a server would arrive with your meal. Here, though, the menus were actual printed sheets of paper, bound in a rather expensive-looking leather covering. I was impressed.

As the maitre d' had promised, a server arrived at our booth a few minutes later. We each ordered a glass of red wine to start things off, and while the server was busy getting them we perused our menus. The prices were steep, but not too bad; we'd be able to eat well without having to wash dishes later, anyway.

Once we were both satisfied with our choices, we put the menus aside and shared a quick toast before taking a sip of the wine. It was a bit drier than I preferred, but it was still drinkable. Of course, the company I was with helped immensely with that. The look on her face told me she wasn't too impressed with the wine either. We both only hoped the meal would more than make up for it.

We sipped at the wine and idly chatted, and I took some time to look at the other tables around us. Most of the people had come here in pairs, mostly older men and women. I guessed most of them were couples intent on enjoying a nice night out. Above the normal noise of quiet conversation, I would hear a bit of polite laughter, but nothing overly attention-drawing. I remember thinking how boring the place seemed...as though in so-called higher society it was almost taboo to show any kind of emotion other than civil. It only helped to steel my resolve to eventually leave this planet, and with it any trace of this dull, lifeless society of privilege.

"Have you been here before?" Te'Ki asked quietly after the server had finished taking our orders.

I shook my head. "One of my friends from...before...told me about this place once," I said. I didn't think I had, but when Te'Ki reached her hand across the table and squeezed mine, I realized my voice had been heavy with longing. "I guess I'll never be able to tell her about it now," I said.

"If they talk to your grandfather, though, won't he tell her about you?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe. As far as I know, though, she's still vacationing with her family in Thanasia." I had to bite back another wave of sorrow. "The last time any of my friends saw me I was still in a coma. Guess it wouldn't take much from there."

"So, it's the same with the Clans as it is with the Tribes," said Te'Ki. "Disavowal." I nodded. Disavowal was often the final nail in the coffin of the exile...at least from the Clans point of view. At this moment, Dalan Kalamar didn't exist. In fact, he'd never been born. Short of the birth records at the hospital where I was born, no official record existed anymore that I was alive. By Clan law, no member of my former family could acknowledge who I was, or that I was ever related to them.

This made it doubly worse for anyone not affiliated with the Clans. If my friends were to show up at the estate tomorrow and ask about me, they'd be seen as mistaken about me. They would be told that Dalan Kalamar never existed, or at the most they would be told I had died as a result of my injuries, depending on how cruel my family decided to be.

"I just hope you're right about Grandfather," I said finally. "Hopefully he can..."

"Excuse me."

I'm pretty sure that even if I hadn't recognized the voice, it would have had the same spine-chilling effect on me. Of course, given the speaker's profession, having the ability to intimidate someone just with a few casual words was a rather significant asset.

I turned towards the voice and beheld one of the most imposing white tigers I've ever seen. Granted, he wasn't all that built physically, but his stance and the cool expression on his muzzle made him seem somehow larger than he was. I swallowed slowly, silently praying that enough time had gone by...

"Please forgive interruption," he said, his speech thick with a Someraphon accent. "I am Yuseph Baladin. I am hoping you can help me."

"Uh, sure," I said, trying to remain calm. "How can I..." I took a look beside Yuseph, and I felt my heart sink. Standing there was another white tiger. He was younger than Yuseph...actually he was my age. He stared at me with eyes filled with a look of excited recognition. Reluctantly I tore my gaze away from the younger tiger and looked back at Yuseph. "How can I help you?" I asked.

"Papa, I tell you it is him," the younger tiger blurted out. "Elder Kalamar was wrong...he did not die."

"Silence, Tomas!" Yuseph hissed. I saw the younger tiger cower from his father's voice. "If Elder say Dalan is dead, then he is dead...why would he lie?"

Why indeed? In truth, I could fully understand why Grandfather would 'tow the line,' with regards to my fate...especially in front of Yuseph. You see, Yuseph Baladin was Karalla City's most respected prosecuting advocate...the one no criminal ever wanted to face. His passion for justice was seen as almost fanatical by some, as he would often pursue the highest possible punishment for even the smallest of crimes. In his defence, he wanted to send a clear message to anyone thinking of breaking the law, and for that even the Clans respected him.

Sadly, this passion for the law also extended to how exiles were treated. Like so many others, Yuseph viewed Clan outcasts like me as a blemish on decent society. More than once he'd publicly supported campaigns that called for the instant public execution of exiles the moment they were discovered. Thankfully for people like Te'Ki and I, such extreme views weren't shared by everyone.

"Dead?" I asked. "Did someone die?"

Yuseph nodded. "Yes. A friend of my son was attacked a year ago. Up until recently he was in hospital in coma."

"I see," I said evenly.

"According to family's Elder," he then said, "he never woke up from coma...his body was too weak to continue." I heard a quiet whimper from the younger tiger, and it took all I had to stay seated. My heart pounded in my chest...gods...the poor guy's heart was breaking and I couldn't do anything about it except carry on this illusion at his expense.

"I'm...I'm sorry," I finally said. "But I'm not the person you're thinking of. My name's Darien...Darien Kain. I'm not sure who this 'Kalamar' person is." Tomas stared at me, his eyes filled with tears. I took a deep shuddering breath to keep myself steady. "I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Of course," Yuseph said. "Again, I apologize for interruption. Please enjoy rest of your evening. Come along, Tomas." He turned away, offering an uncharacteristically gentle hand on his son's shoulder. Together the two of them walked back towards their table, leaving me alone with Te'Ki.

It felt like hours had passed before I felt my heartbeat return to some form of normalcy. It wasn't so much the panic at nearly being discovered, but more what I had to put Tomas through. I took another sip of my wine, wishing for an entire bottle to up-end at that moment. Again, Te'Ki's hand reached out for mine, and she squeezed it as hard as she could.

Without her asking for it, I started talking about Tomas. Because of his father's high status in the non-Clan world, Yuseph and his family were often invited to attend different Clan functions. Granted, most of the invitations were motivated by some kind of societal or political reason, but they didn't seem to mind. If anything, the entire Baladin family had developed a taste for the Clan lifestyle.

Tomas had been rather shy when I first met him, and given what I knew of his father, it wasn't a surprise. Yuseph's passion for justice made him akin to a tyrant at his home. Tomas and his younger brother, Nicoli, were brought up in the strictest of homes, where the smallest 'infraction' was met with a slap or verbal blasting on Yuseph's part. Tomas once told me that his father never wanted to see neither he nor Nicoli in the defendant's chair in a court room, hence the harsh discipline at home. Personally, I thought it was a bit much, but Tomas simply shrugged it off. He reasoned that so long as he stayed in line, he wouldn't suffer his father's wrath.

"In my tribe," said Te'Ki after I finished, "a father can be stoned to death for laying a hand on a child." Her tone was heavy with venom. "Our chief once cut the ear off a hunter for slapping his daughter and making her nose bleed." My stomach churned slightly at the visual.

"I can't say I've ever heard of something that drastic in the Clans," I said finally. "Though I've heard stories of Elders beating the Seven Hells out of someone for slapping their child." I decided not to tell Te'Ki that such a thing was a very rare occurrence. In truth, many of the Clans were rather...what's that word...oh, right...draconian...when it came to child discipline. For his part, Father had always been stern but fair in any kind of punishment. As a kitten I'd been spanked a few times for getting into trouble, but never anything traumatic or lasting. In truth, I couldn't see someone like Grandfather cutting Father's ear for giving my butt a swat.

For what he did to me in the temple, though...I would have personally bitten it off given the opportunity.

Our meals finally arrived, and in sharp contrast to the dry, lifeless-tasting wine the entrees were divine. The meat had been cooked to perfection, and the accompanying vegetables and other garnishes were a perfect compliment. Even Te'Ki was impressed, and I thought I heard her begin to purr softly as she dug into her dinner.

We were about halfway through our meals when I felt the pressing call of nature. I excused myself and, after talking with one of the roaming servers, headed for the restrooms. I was dreading having to wait while others before me were answering the same call I was, but when I arrived I was pleasantly surprised to find it empty.

Well...almost empty...

As the door closed I thought I could hear someone in one of the stalls. I paid it no mind as I strode up to one of the empty urinals and began to relieve myself. Moments later I heard the sound of the stall's toilet flush and the door open. It wasn't until the person went to wash his hands that I noticed who it was.

It was Tomas.

"Oh," he said, turning my way.

"Hi," I said, pausing for a moment to finish up. I headed for the sinks, and took the one next to his. "Feeling better?"

"No," he said. "I did not mean to embarrass you in front of girlfriend. You just look and sound so much like..."

"Like Dalan?"

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. He turned towards me, eyes wide first in shock, then in what looked like building anger. "Who told you?" he growled.

"Easy, Tommy," I said, taking a step back. "It's me." His eyes narrowed. "Tommy...it's really me. It's Dalan."

"How do I know this is not some lie?" he countered, his voice still filled with a venomous edge. "Tell me something...something only Dalan would know."

"All right," I said after a moment. "To get back at Nick for breaking that model spacecraft of yours, you got Max and I to help you steal his Herog the Hero action figure. Then, we borrowed some clothes from one of Risha's dolls and dressed it up like a drag queen before putting it somewhere where your father would see it." Oh...the yelling that ensued after that. We could have been half a world away and we would have heard that roar.

Tommy's lower lip began to tremble. "D...Dalan?" he asked. "But...but your grandfather..."

"He had to tell you," I interrupted. "He had to say I was dead because in a way...I am." I hung my head. "I've been exiled, Tommy."

"Exiled?" he asked. "But how...why?"

"It's a long story," I said. "One I can't really tell you here...not now." On reflex I stole a quick glance around. "It's a risk just telling you this here now."

"Then where?" Tommy asked. "When?"

I thought for a moment. "If you can," I said, "next time you see Grandfather, tell him you met Darien Kain. He'll know what you're talking about."

"Darien...Kain," Tommy repeated. "All right...I will do this." I could see his eyes begin to well up with tears and I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I am just...relived you are not dead."

"You're relieved?" I said. "Imagine how I feel." That brought a small smile to his face. "OK," I said. "Now get out of here and no more worrying about me, all right?" He nodded, wiping his eyes before heading out of the restroom. I waited a few minutes before doing the same, hopefully giving the impression to any curious eyes that Tomas and I hadn't spoken to each other.

Ok, I can admit that it was a risk. By simply admitting to Tommy I was still alive, I'd made him a target. Now, like me, he had a secret to keep if he wanted to avoid the wrath of the Shatlia or any other would-be anti-exile crusader. Time would ultimately tell if I'd made the right decision in telling him, but in truth, seeing him so emotionally broken over my 'death' was too much to bear.

Whether I did the right thing or not, as I sat back down across from Te'Ki, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was similar to the feeling I had when I saw Grandfather in my dwelling that first time. The fact that I still had some kind of connection – albeit covert – with my past made me feel like less of an exile, and more like someone who just had to go away for a while.

I told Te'Ki about my run-in with Tommy as we finished our dinner, and that we could expect some 'company' in the near future. She seemed a little apprehensive about it at first, but I assured her that Tommy was a good friend...someone who'd keep our little secret.

We finished our meals, and after settling the bill we were back on the street. We decided to walk a block or two before calling for a transit shuttle to take us home, as we both though it rude to do so right in front of the restaurant's doors. It also gave us a chance just to walk...hand in hand, enjoying the warm evening air...it was almost as romantic as our walks through the woods were.

Things felt like they were falling more into place for me at that moment. I couldn't honestly recall a time when I'd felt so alive...so filled with happiness. Less and less I was feeling like someone who'd been cast out from society. I didn't feel like a target anymore...I was free...we...were free.

I suppose I was feeling a bit too free at that moment, otherwise I would have reacted a lot sooner when those four packlas surrounded us. I would have resisted that much more when they forced Te'Ki and I into that alley. Hells, I probably would have never let them cart us down to that dead end away from any chance of someone coming to our rescue.

However, I'd been so deluded that Te'Ki and I were beyond the stigma of exiles, it wasn't until I heard the click of the opening switchblade and felt it press against my throat that my illusion finally shattered...

And I came screaming back into reality...