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  Do you know how badly we wish we had a mate of our own?"

  Lynx averted his gaze and pretended to be interested in a nearby oak tree. "It's not fair bringing Melody into this."

  "You were the one who made an issue of fairness," Ferret countered.

  "How fair are you being to Melody if you're willing to desert her for weeks at a stretch just because you're bored with your job?"

  "The other married Warriors leave their wives when they go off on missions," Lynx said defensively.

  "Yes, they do. But I don't know one wife who's happy about the arrangement. They recognize the necessity but they resent being separated from their loved ones. Take Blade and Jenny as an example. He leads every mission. He's away from the Home more than anyone else, and his prolonged absences have upset Jenny immensely. Do you want to do the same thing to Melody?"

  "You should never hurt the one you love, no," Gremlin commented. He gazed at the azure sky, anxious to resume their search, thinking of his close friend. Blade. Then he glanced at a patch of weeds to his left.

  "We could always take Melody with us," Lynx suggested.

  "Are you out of your mind? You'd imperil her life by taking her into the Outlands?"

  "She can handle herself. And she's always sayin' how she'd like to get out of the cabin more often."

  "Excuse me, yes?" Gremlin said, but the other two ignored him.

  Ferret gestured angrily at Lynx. "You're amazing! Do you know that?

  Just when you come up with the dumbest idea in the history of this planet, just when I think you can't possibly top your previous stupidity, you outdo yourself! Now you want to take Melody on a mission. The Doktor must have given you a lobotomy when no one else was looking."

  "This is important, no?" Gremlin stated.

  "Butt out," Lynx snapped, glaring at Ferret. "What Melody and I decide to do with our lives is our business. If she wants to go on a mission, it's fine with me."

  "Well I'm not going, and that's final!"

  "Who needs you? Stay at the Home and hide in your shell. Let life pass you by."

  "Stop arguing, yes?" Gremlin urged, to no avail.

  "It would serve you right if Melody kicked you out the door."

  Ferret said to Lynx.

  "You'd just love that, wouldn't you?"

  "No."

  "And why not?" Lynx demanded, his voice rising.

  "Because if she gives you the boot, you'll probably end up bunking with us."

  "And I suppose you're too good to share a room with me?"

  "It's not the sharing I mind. It's the fact that you snore like an erupting volcano."

  "Says who?"

  "Says me!"

  Gremlin stepped between them, grinning happily. "I'm sorry to interrupt your friendly conversation, but this is most important, no?"

  "What the hell is it?" Lynx asked.

  "We must return to the Home immediately, yes?" Gremlin informed them.

  "Why?" Ferret asked.

  For an answer, Gremlin extended his right arm and opened his hand.

  "Damn!" Lynx exclaimed.

  "What are we waiting for?" Ferret asked.

  Off they raced toward the Home.

  Chapter Five

  Who was this woman?

  Floating on the threshold of consciousness, Berwin saw a lovely woman running toward him, a radiant vision with blonde hair and green eyes, her body clothed in a shimmering silver gown. He seemed to be standing at one end of a grass-covered field. She approached him from the other end, sprinting with the fleetness of a doe, her arms outstretched in his direction, her mouth moving, forming the same word over and over and over again.

  Berwin couldn't hear her.

  He took several strides, his head cocked to one side, but the mysterious woman was still too far away. "Who are you?" he shouted.

  "What do you want?"

  The blonde kept coming, kept mouthing the word.

  Berwin trembled as an intense feeling that he should know her swept through him. Strangely, although the word she spoke wasn't audible, although at least 50 yards separated them, her features were incredibly clear. He could see every detail: her full lips, her rounded cheeks, and the panic in her eyes, as if she were afraid she wouldn't reach him in time.

  "What is it?" Berwin called out.

  She opened her mouth wide to reply, and suddenly the entire scene dissolved into shards of light. She abruptly disintegrated into glowing bits and pieces.

  "No!" Berwin cried, and a black fog enshrouded his mind. Fear gripped him, an inexplicable fear out of all proportion to the content of his dream. "No!" he cried again.

  And woke up.

  Berwin sat bolt upright in bed, momentarily disconcerted, sweat caking his skin. He gulped and blinked a few times, wondering why the blonde woman had disturbed him so, and wished he could identify her.

  "Are you all right?"

  Berwin looked at the door, ill at ease at the sight of Nurse Krittenbauer standing in the doorway. "Fine," he mumbled.

  The nurse walked over to the bed and placed her right palm on his forehead. "You don't have a fever. What's wrong? I heard you yell."

  "I had a bad dream," he replied.

  "What about?"

  Berwin licked his lips and sighed. "It was nothing, really."

  "You let me be the judge," Krittenbauer said. "Tell me about your dream."

  Reluctantly, self-conscious while relating the account, Berwin complied, concluding with, "So you can see it was no big deal."

  "Perhaps," she said ambiguously. "Did you have any other dreams?"

  Berwin shook his head. "Not that I recall. All I took was a short nap. I dozed off while waiting for Doctor Milton to return with my family."

  "Your parents and your sister will be here soon," Nancy informed him.

  "Good," Berwin said, excited at the prospect.

  "And from now on I want you to fill me in on every dream you have."

  "What? Why?"

  "So I can note them for the doctor."

  "But why? How important can my dreams be?" Berwin asked.

  "They can be very important. They might provide the key to unlocking your memory. They might enable us to help you in dealing with the trauma of your accident," Krittenbauer said.

  "I had no idea," Berwin responded. "Okay. From now on I'll let you know about every dream."

  Nurse Krittenbauer smiled. "Fair enough. Is there anything you'd like before your family arrives?"

  "Any chance of getting a set of clothes?" Berwin inquired. "This hospital gown is drafty."

  "Your folks are bringing clothes for you, I believe."

  "Do they know about my amnesia?"

  She nodded. "Doctor Milton told them."

  "How'd they take the news?"

  "I don't know. I wasn't there," Krittenbauer said, and studied him for a few seconds. "You seem nervous about meeting them."

  "Wouldn't you be?" Berwin asked. "They're my family, but I don't remember a thing about them. Not one solitary fact. They'll be like strangers to me."

  "They're nice people. You'll like them."

  "Will they like me?"

  "What a ridiculous question. Of course they will," she replied. "And seeing them will be great therapy."

  "I hope you're right," Berwin said nervously.

  Nurse Krittenbauer stepped to the door. "Why don't you try to relax while I check on the doctor and your family."

  "I'll try."

  She smiled and departed.

  Berwin rested his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. If he was lucky, maybe the shock of meeting his family would jolt him into recalling his past. He desperately wanted to remember, especially the beautiful blonde woman he'd seen in his dream. Somehow—call it intuition, a sixth sense, or whatever—he knew the woman existed. She wasn't merely a figment of his imagination. He felt compelled to identify her. A frown creased his lips at the thought of the upcoming days, weeks, months, even years, he might have to wrestle with the en
igma of his existence. Who was he, deep, deep down?

  A light knock sounded on the door and in walked Doctor Milton, grinning congenially. "Hello, Mister Berwin."

  Berwin sat up, his gaze on the doorway. "Where's my family?"

  "Waiting in the corridor," Doctor Milton said as he came over.

  "Bring them in," Berwin prompted.

  "In a minute. Are you ready to meet them?"

  "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," Berwin assured him.

  "Really? Well, I'd advise you to prepare yourself for the worst. I don't mean to dash your hopes, but I've seen enough cases like yours to know how the typical patient reacts. I imagine that right about now you're on pins and needles."

  "You don't know the half of it."

  Doctor Milton put his right hand on the giant's shoulder. "Then allow me to submit some unsolicited advice. Don't permit your expectations to soar too high. You may remember events in your past when you see your family. You may not. There's no guarantee."

  "I realize that."

  "Good. Do you also realize how much of a strain this will be on your family? Remember, they haven't talked to you in three months. And they're extremely upset about the amnesia. They'll probably be awkward and nervous. Don't hold it against them."

  "I won't," Berwin promised.

  Doctor Milton nodded, appraising his patient carefully. "Okay. Then I guess you're as ready as you'll ever be." he turned toward the door. "Nurse Krittenbauer, you can bring them in now."

  Berwin leaned forward expectantly, his abdomen tied in knots. He glued his gaze to the doorway and held his breath, his hands clenched at his sides.

  Into the room came three people.

  First to enter was a tall, gray-haired man dressed in a blue shirt and brown pants. His eyes were blue, his nose thin, his features ruggedly handsome. He strode directly to the bed and reached for Berwin. "Son!

  Son! At last!"

  Although his initial reaction was to recoil and push the man away, Berwin let himself be hugged, trying hard to cover his disappointment. He hadn't recognized his own father! It was as if a total stranger embraced him. Over his father's left shoulder, he studied the two women who were coming toward him.

  In the lead was a stocky woman in her sixties. She wore a light green dress and held a black purse in his left hand. Streaks of gray accented her otherwise-sandy hair. Her cheeks and jaw were both fleshy. Tears welled in her green eyes the instant she saw him. "Son! You're with us again!"

  Berwin's father moved aside so his mother could hug him. and Berwin felt her wet tears on his cheek as she pressed her face to his and kissed him.

  "Oh, son!"

  "Mom? Dad?" Berwin said, his forehead furrowing in mounting chagrin. He didn't know his mother either!

  "Bobby?" interjected the second woman. She appeared to be a few years younger than Berwin. Blonde hair fell almost to the small of her back. Her athletic form was clad in a red blouse and black slacks.

  "Sis?" Berwin responded, and for a fleeting second he experienced a stirring within him, as if he was about to recall something important. But the moment passed, leaving him with the blank slate he called a mind, and he almost pounded on the bed in anger.

  "Do you recognize me, Bobby?" his sister asked.

  "Bobby?"

  His mother clasped her right hand to her mouth in astonishment. "Oh, no!"

  "You don't know your own name?" his father inquired in a dazed tone.

  "I knew my name was Berwin," the giant said, and winced at their pained expressions.

  "Bobby, it's me, Trish," said his sister. She came closer and tenderly touched his cheek, her blue eyes reflecting her concern. "Don't you remember me?"

  Berwin looked from one to the other, then stared at the foot of the bed, his broad shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry. No. I don't remember any of you."

  His mother started bawling, and his father took her into his arms to comfort her.

  "I warned you this might happen," Doctor Milton interjected. "Don't take it personally."

  "Why should we do that?" Trish responded, her tone making the very idea sound ridiculous.

  "You never know," Doctor Milton said. "I once saw a mother who got mad at her daughter because the daughter couldn't remember her."

  "We'd never get mad at our Bobby," the mother managed to say between sobs.

  Berwin gazed at them. "I'm truly sorry. The last thing in the world I'd want to do is cause you any grief."

  "It's okay, Bobby," Trish said. "We understand." She gave his left hand a squeeze. "The doctor told us you'll need time to recover. But knowing you have amnesia doesn't lessen the shock, you know?"

  "Tell me about it," Berwin said.

  Trish laughed. "At least you haven't lost your sense of humor."

  The father cleared his throat. "Son, I want you to know that we're behind you one hundred percent. We'll stick by your side until this ordeal is over. Don't worry about your medical expenses. The insurance will cover everything."

  "Who cares about insurance at a time like this?" Trish declared testily.

  Berwin's father shrugged. "It's always nice to know."

  Trish glanced at the physician. "How soon can Bobby come home with us?"

  "That will depend on his progress. His release will be at my discretion."

  "Wouldn't his memory return faster if he was in familiar surroundings?" Trish persisted.

  "As I told your brother a few minutes ago, there are no guarantees. The amnesia will simply have to take its course," Doctor Milton said.

  "Terrific," Trish muttered. She sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled at Berwin. "You must feel uncomfortable as hell."

  "Trish! Your language!" the mother said primly.

  "I'm sure everyone here has heard the word before," Trish replied.

  Berwin grinned, despite himself. Even though he didn't recognize his sister, there was a quality about her he liked, a certain toughness he found highly admirable. She vaguely resembled the blonde woman in his dream, and he wondered if the dream had simply depicted her differently.

  "Can we take Bobby for a walk?" the father asked Milton.

  "Not today, I'm afraid," the physician replied.

  "When?" Trish inquired.

  "Perhaps in two or three days. Remember, he's been in a coma for three months. Your brother might look fit as the proverbial fiddle, but we don't want to push him. We don't want him to overstep his limits before we ascertain exactly what his limits are," Doctor Milton said.

  Trish glanced at Berwin. "Sorry, bro. Looks like you're chained to your bed for a while."

  Berwin grinned and shrugged. "After three months, what's a few more days?"

  His mother took a white handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her moist eyes. "Would you like us to bring books, magazines, and newspapers on our next visit? You've always been an avid reader."

  "Yeah," added his father. "I always thought you'd become a college professor, not involved in construction."

  "You know Bobby likes to work outdoors," Trish said.

  "What do you like to do?" Berwin asked her.

  "Me? Oh, I like to date hunks. I like seafood, and I adore skiing."

  "You're not married?"

  Trish chuckled. "Not yet, thank goodness. I haven't met the man yet worth giving up my freedom for."

  A thought occurred to Berwin and he did a double take. "I never thought to ask. Am I married?"

  "No," Trish responded. "You were once, but she left you."

  "What was her name?"

  Trish glanced at Doctor Milton, who nodded. "Her name was Crystal."

  "Where is she now?"

  "Who knows? Who the hell cares?" Trish replied. "She and you split up about four years ago. I never did care for her. Too snooty for my tastes.

  Good riddance, I say."

  Berwin stared into her eyes. "Did we have any children?"

  "Nope. You wanted to have kids but she didn't."

  Berwin digested the i
nformation, aware of being the focus of attention for everyone in the room. "Describe Crystal for me."

  "She's got blonde hair, like me," Trish said. "Her eyes are green, I think.

  She's attractive, if you like her type." She deliberately emphasized the last word distastefully.

  The description matched the woman in his dream, Berwin realized. So he'd been dreaming about his former wife. It was strange, though, that he hadn't experienced any lingering resentment or hostility toward her.

  Wouldn't such a reaction be normal if his wife had ditched him?

  If?

  Berwin grinned. There he went again, venting his unfounded suspicions. Why couldn't he just accept what everyone told him at face value?

  "What's so funny?" Trish asked.

  "Nothing," Berwin said, shaking his head. "How long can you stay today? I want to hear all about myself."

  "We'll stay until they shoo us out," his mother said.

  Doctor Milton stepped forward. "Uhhhh, I hate to nip this meeting in the bud, but you'll only be able to remain for another minute or two," he informed them.

  "What?" Trish responded angrily. "Why can't we hang around for a few hours, at least?"

  "Because I don't want to unduly stress your brother," Doctor Milton said. "I warned you earlier that the reunion would have to be brief."

  "But I'm fine," Berwin said. "They don't have to go."

  "Yes, they do," the physician insisted.

  "What about tomorrow?" the mother inquired.

  "Tomorrow afternoon you can visit for an hour."

  "That's all?"

  "Sorry," Doctor Milton said. He nodded at the nurse.

  Berwin's father sighed and placed his right hand on Berwin's shoulder.

  "We'd stay if we could. You understand that?"

  The giant nodded.

  "This isn't fair," his mother remarked bitterly.

  "Life isn't fair, Mom," Trish said.

  Nurse Krittenbauer stood near the door. She motioned at the doorway and frowned. "I'm sorry, folks, but you'll have to leave now. Doctor's orders."

  "Wait for me out in the hallway," Doctor Milton requested.

  The father, mother, and daughter each hugged Berwin, promised him they would be back the next day, and departed.

  "How do you feel?" Doctor Milton asked when they were gone.

  "I don't remember any of them," Berwin answered sadly.