The First Sender

Book 3

    Furen held his breath and clamped down on his emotions as he watched his son, Marcus, shift a huge pile of crates to a numbered planet in the Gemini constellation. Even at the age of ten Marcus was an expert at teleportation, and strong---very strong for his or any age. Furen had no doubt that his son would replace him in the near future as the First Sender.
    Furen turned, with tears of pride in his eyes and blinked quickly to clear them. His heart felt like it would burst. He wanted to hug his son as he had when he was smaller, but his son had come to expect adult treatment lately. Mark turned, all smiles, and noticed Furen's restrained pride, mixed with thinly veiled restraint and nodded in understanding.
    "He's growing, Furen, you have a right to be proud," Mark thought silently to Furen.
    "What's going on?" Barbet's voice demanded mentally. She shared an empathic link with her son that was uncanny. There was a mental bond between them stronger than any Furen had ever seen before. Of course they were crossing uncharted territory when it came to family ties, there were few complete families on his planet.
    "Marcus just made his first big send, three tons of vegetables. It was flawless, sweetheart, absolutely perfect. You should see him sitting here like nothing happened, just waiting for his next load. It was just another job to him..." Furen was so proud of his son that words failed him, but his feelings continued to come through and Barbet glowed in return.
    "Give him a hug for me," she said impishly and Furen did, despite Marcus' loud protests.
    "Hey, don't blame me, your mother told me to do it," Furen said innocently.
    "Beast!" Barbet said and faded out.
    "Come on guys, we have work to do. McMillan, our illustrious president, will be at the plantation promptly at 8:00 o'clock tonight, and he's NEVER late. Sometimes I think he even plans his bathroom breaks days in advance," Mark snorted and turned to face the next pile of crates.
    Furen swiveled around in his chair and watched the activity through the warehouse window behind him. Jerry McGuire was the warehouse foreman, a large Irishman who believed in doing things the old fashioned way. He spoke with authority and ruled with an iron fist, but he was friend to everyone off duty, and joked with the best of them. When Jerry gave an order, everyone jumped to obey. It was known throughout the plantation that he had offered anyone who could whip him in a fair fight his job as foreman. So far there had been no takers. Furen suspected that it was more a matter of not wanting to hurt the big man's feelings, rather than the fear of his huge hands.
    Furen was 30 inches tall and weighed 55 pounds in Earth normal gravity. He estimated that Jerry McGuire was nearly three times his height and five times his weight. But Furen did not fear Jerry as most did, because he had an advantage. He could feel the inherent kindness and honest goodness in Jerry's mind. Most of his physical bluster was just for show, to alleviate the need for violence. It worked. His mental picture of Jerry was a complete opposite of Jerry's physical demeanor. That was why they trusted Jerry to babysit for Marcus, their oldest son, Contra, their second son of seven years, and Chastity who had just turned four. To the Sender family Jerry had become Uncle Jerry. To Furen he was his third best friend and sometimes advisor. Jerry also stepped in as bodyguard when necessary. For some reason Jerry insisted on being present at the meeting tonight. He kept his reasons hidden even from Furen, which was not easy since Furen was a First Sender, the most powerful mind on Raglasy, his home planet, or Savannah, where he lived now.
    Jerry looked up at the window, as he often did to take hand signals from Furen or Mark. Furen motioned him inside. Jerry bellowed, gestured at the warehouse workers, then jumped off his crate to hurry around to the glass-enclosed office.
    "You called oh mighty one?" Jerry mocked him with a bow of great respect. Although Furen was deserving of great respect, he knew that Jerry was only joking, he bowed to no one.
    "Time to change for the party, you big, lazy giant. President McMillan will be here in two hours."
    The smile left Jerry's face when he heard McMillan's name. Furen felt a flash of hatred and distrust, then Jerry clamped down on his feelings and smiled.
    "It will be a pleasure to see him again, it's been a long time," his voice was deceptively mild.
    "You know him?" Furen asked in surprise.
    "Yeah, but I'd rather not go into that. I'll explain later. Ok, I'm off. I'll shut down the warehouse since you three need to get ready too."
    Jerry stalked over to the window, banged loudly and pulled his finger across his throat. The workers stopped, grabbed extra clothing and lunch boxes, then made their way towards the huge doors.
    Jerry started for the door. Furen couldn't get the flash of ill feelings out of his mind. Jerry didn't like or trust President McMillan. Why?
    "Jerry?"
    "Huh?"
    "Do you have any advice regarding our meeting tonight?"
    "Yeah, don't trust McMillian and don't turn your back, he'll stick a knife in it," Jerry growled and left.
    Mark raised a surprised eyebrow. Furen frowned, deep in thought.
    Furen pulled his little hovercraft up to the door of his chalet and shut down the drive. Marcus was up and out before Furen had climbed from his seat. Furen knew he was off to tell his mother about his first day of work. Furen held back to make sure Marcus could enjoy his moment of glory. He watched Mark's much larger hovercraft speeding down the yellow, sandy road, leaving a roster tail of dust hundreds of feet high. Furen watched until Mark slammed the hovercraft down in front of his mansion with his usual abandon, then Furen turned to walk up the small steps. When he entered Barbet was hugging Marcus and talking excitedly.
    "Our little guy is growing up," Barbet said to Furen and hugged Marcus again. Furen felt a pang of jealousy. He didn't think it was fair that his son felt he had outgrown his father's hugs, but not his mother's. He looked around for his other children and heard them playing out in the courtyard. When he found them his jealousy was assuaged by the hugs and kisses he received from two youngest. He dutifully took their hands and followed them to look at their sand castles, roads, and tunnels, made at the edge of the garden.
    When they continued their building project he stood and looked around the courtyard at the huge building his home had become. They had added a wing for each new child. Among the animals imported to Savannah there were large cats, wolves, and other dangerous animals, so they placed the third addition at the end of the first two to make an enclosed courtyard where the children could play in safety. It also solved a second problem by keeping the varmints out of Barbet's precious garden. They liked the courtyard, it was a warm, sunny, happy place. Mark had installed an electronic shield over the courtyard to keep out birds and insects and it had evolved into their largest living area. They ate, watched the entercom, read, and gardened in the sunshine of the courtyard. The children played there most of the year since it was sheltered from the cold winds and the worst of the weather.
    It didn't surprise Furen that their most used building was no building at all. It was his legacy, he had grown up in a big, intimidating forest on Raglasy. They measured the square feet of the entire building, courtyard and all, and discovered that it was half the size of their entire village back home. The few visitors they received from their home world were duly impressed and took tales back to Raglasy of the First Sender's impressive castle on Savannah.
    "Honey, we have to get ready," Barbet came up behind him and put an arm around his waist.
    "I know. I was just thinking how happy we are out here. Our kind never were happy inside a building. Look at what we grew up in, a few sticks and grass thrown together to make a place to sleep at night."
    "Our home is different. It has... it has a soul. Can't you feel it?" Barbet asked vacantly.
    "A soul? Yes, I think you're right. It has a warm glow, I feel warm, happy feeling, like the Triston's mansion, but the mansion feels older. In theirs I feel age, old voices echoing from the walls, parties, and ceremony. Our's feels new and free, like a new family should feel."
    "Exactly. That's exactly what I feel," Barbet said happily and snuggled closer.
    "I wonder if other's can feel what we feel? Do you suppose that all homes have a soul? Can you judge the people who live in a home by the way the home feels?" Furen asked.
    "Why not? We know that everyone, sender or not, sends out thoughts and feelings. The objects around them simply absorb and store them."
    "Jerry doesn't trust President McMillan. He knew him."
    "I wish we could peak inside the president's house."
    "I don't have too, I peeked at Jerry's mind. Something is wrong. I don't think we should trust the president."
    "Ok," Barbet said agreeably. "Now get bathed and dressed, we have to go and I want to get there early to help Lady Chastity. Children," she clapped her hands loudly, "into the bath tub now."
    Furen found Mark in front of his big, blue, wall- sized Metal Marines board, studying%wis opponent's defenses. Furen sat quietly, knowing that Mark took his game very seriously. Mark had attained level 156, which put him in line for the regional championships.
    "You made it," Mark said absently.
    "Can you talk?" Furen asked and studied the representation of the universe and his opponents defenses which consisted of thousands of blinking lights.
    "Some, they're about to attack. I'll tell you one thing, this level is kicking my butt. I have nightmares about it when I sleep, which isn't often. What do you think, should I build up my defenses or stockpile FTL missiles?"
    "From what I've seen defenses don't do much good at level 156, I'd build up my fleet and attack."
    "Yeah, that's what I thought. I can't get through their AA missiles to see what's on Regula."
    "Build a fleet of shielded fighters and send them in on a FTL battleship."
    "Not enough credits for that. They'll attack before I have half enough."
    "Then you don't have enough for a moon base either, to deflect their attacks. How many are playing against you?" Furen asked, getting involved as he always did.
    "About..." Mark read the score sheet and whistled. "Wow, 57 opponents so far. No wonder I can't get anywhere."
    "You're a popular opponent, everybody want's to beat you, Mark. I would cloak your entire system and let them fight it out. They won't bother dropping missiles all over six solar systems to find the cloaking device, they have to keep the others off their backs. Once they reveal each other's defenses you will have enough credits and power to attack."
    "Yeah, with that many opponents they'll never notice me. It will be hard, just standing by for a week or so while I build my resources. I like action. You're an amazing general, Furen, how did I ever beat you?" Mark asked as he bought a cloaking generator and turned it on when it was built. They watched as dozens of opponents desperately peppered the six solar systems in the areas where they believed his planets had been. It was futile.
    "That was three years ago, I was new at the game. I've worked my way up to team seven at level 76 again. Not much of a challenge. I'll be back on your board again soon."
    "I can't wait," Mark said with a smile and led him into the huge dinning room.
    "There's another opponent making a name for himself, he goes by the name of Death Wielder," Furen nodded at Marcus as he ran passed with a dozen plantation kids in tow. "Marcus has worked his way up to level five in the adult category. He's gained three levels just in the past six months."
    "A family of generals," Mark said, shaking his head in amused wonder.
    They were distracted by a familiar high pitched voice shouting from the far end of the room.
    "NO NOT THERE! Put it down at the end of the table," Barbet yelled at one of the servants. Her voice came from the far end of the table. The top of her head was barely visible over a flower display.
    "And there's the meanest little general of them all," Furen whispered in conspiratorial tones. He looked up with a smile, just in time to yell and duck a silver cup which came sailing over the table.
    "I heard that, Furen First Sender."
    "Good ears," Mark raised an eyebrow with a smile. He hurried to his room to change clothes, pretending to shield himself with his hands over his head as he passed Barbet.
    "There is a visitor at the front door," the automated door minder said from the walls around them.
    "I'll get it," Furen called as he hurried to the door. He found Jerry at the door, or rather Jerry's back. Furen looked around him and saw a huge black flyer approaching from the West. Furen palmed the intercom button on the front door.
    "The President's arriving, Chastity," he called and ushered Jerry inside.
    "I wonder if he'll recognize me," Jerry growled and rolled the cuffs down on his metallic shirt.
    "I won't ask," Furen said vaguely as he studied the metallic, laser-resistant shirt warily. Jerry really was prepared for anything. Furen studied the rest of Jerry's clothing and counted six bulges that might be weapons.
    Jerry said nothing as he buttoned the cuffs on his shirt, then he looked up with a smile. "You'll hear soon enough, so I might as well give you my side of it. He sentenced me to hard labor in the mines. I was stuck down there for two years."
    "Why?"
    "I hit him."
    "You did?" Furen was amazed.
    "He'd just been elected, I didn't know who he was- --not that it would have mattered. He insulted me. I was drinking and having a good time on the front porch at Anthony's Saloon in Swahelow. He walked by, glared and spit in my direction, so I smacked him on the back of the head. Nearly broke his neck. Put him in traction for months."
    "What did you hit him with?"
    Jerry held up a huge fist and smiled.
    The mansion was glowing in all it's splendor of crystal chandeliers, candle abrus, fine linen, and lavishly dressed servants. Lady Chastity chatted gaily, obviously used to official dinners and functions, unlike Furen and Barbet. But despite Lady Chastity's gay chatter, the guests were ill at ease. The president tried to look relaxed as he ate and exchanged conversation with Lady Chastity. But after several nervous glances at Jerry it was obvious that he remembered him.
    When the meal was over the president and his aids followed Lady Chastity into the den. Barbet remained in her seat, finishing her apple up-side-down cake and managing her children. Mark, Jerry, and Furen reluctantly got up to join the guests. When they looked in everyone was already seated at strategic positions. Only one large couch was left for them to use, and through design it was centered in the middle of the President's entourage. Furen motioned for Barbet to join them, but she shook her head vigorously and placed a dainty finger to her lips. He anxiously glanced back as he passed into the den and saw her hurrying towards the front door. He chuckled and shook his head when he realized what she was doing.
    "Problems?" Mark whispered.
    "Not for me," Furen said and broke out laughing.
    The President's advisor scowled at Furen. The seating arrangements had been planned to make him nervous. It was obvious to them that he was not intimidated. As he read their surface feelings and facial expressions he laughed even harder.
    He finally stopped laughing when Barbet showed up at the door and motioned for him to come out. He snorted and tried to hold in his laughter as he strolled casually to the door.
    "What in the world are you laughing at?" she asked with a perplexed smile.
    "You, you little busybody. What did you find out?"
    "The President's flyer is as dark as it looks. All I can feel is evil inside that thing. Don't trust him, Furen, he's very bad."
    Furen leaned forward quickly and kissed her on the lips, then turned and took his seat beside Mark. Furen noticed the President's insolent, possibly hostile glance from him to Barbet. Furen glared at the President until he hastily looked away.
    "What's up, Furen?" Mark whispered.
    "Whatever he's selling, Mark, don't buy it. We discovered that objects give off an aura, and Barbet feels evil in his flyer. Jerry doesn't trust him either."
    "You have to be a little shady to get elected," Mark whispered.
    "This goes beyond that, Mark. Let's find out what he's here for."
    "Mom," Mark called suddenly, "have you discussed business yet?"
    "No, not yet, dear. What about it Mister President, what brings you here?" she asked sweetly.
    "I'm afraid it's bad news---at least we think it is."
    "Oh?" she asked, simply waiting.
    "Sabotage, treason, industrial espionage. My people recently developed something called fusible ions. It's an amazing product, it has hundreds of uses. I can be a bonding agent, a solvent, it can even be refined to dissolve rock, leaving only the metals inside behind. The applications for it are boundless. I predict that in a decade it will be the most used item in the universe. But Webster's Citadel, a collection of planets near Austrina, subsists on technological breakthroughs, gained mostly through illicit means. They want our invention. I was forced to execute a group of their industrial spies several days ago. Painful as it was, such precautions are necessary to keep our society competitive in the universal market. Now the military tells me that a fleet has departed from Webster's Citadel and will arrive here by the end of the week. I sent a call to the Federated Fleet and they refused to intervene in what they termed a local dispute. Our own planetary defenses are inadequate. I'm afraid it's my sad duty to enlist the aid of your talents to help the military defeat this enemy. I thought I should come here and notify you in person. I don't know if you're aware of it or not, but you've become a person of some importance on Savannah."
    "It's kind of you to say so. Are you saying that you intend to draft my son and our friends against their wills if they don't volunteer?"
    "I'm afraid so."
    "They are not at your disposal, Mister President. You have the armed forces for that. You surely don't expect them to jump every time some little thing comes up. They are talents, not conscripts. You can't force them to perform like trained animals if they don't wish too."
    "They have as much at stake as we..."
    "It's their duty!" the president's advisor suddenly shouted and jumped to his feet. "We don't have time to bandy words about, we need them and we'll use them. This is not open for debate," his narrow face twisted into a sneer.
    "Shut up and sit down, Arthur," the president said quietly. "I'm sorry about that, Arthur is used to giving orders. It goes against his grain to politely ask for things."
    "We don't have time for this," Arthur insisted. "We can stop them outside of our solar system if we act now. You people will help or we can..."
    "The president told you to shut up. Now you can do it voluntarily or I'll help you," Jerry said with a deceivingly friendly smile.
    Arthur's face twisted in open rage. He spun around, opened his mouth and seemed to see Jerry for the first time. He looked more closely at Jerry, then ground his teeth together as he quietly sank to his chair. He glowered, but kept his mouth shut.
    "I don't like the way this whole thing feels," Lady Chastity said as she composed herself with her hands in her lap. "I will have the situation investigated first to make sure everything is as you say. If it is, we'll talk again in a day or two. Now, if that's all I'll show you gentlemen out," she stood and they were forced to stand with her.
    "But we..." Arthur started to object until he felt Jerry's huge hand clamp down on his shoulder.
    "This way, sir," he stressed the last word and steered Arthur toward the front door. Arthur shouted in pain as he tried to pull free and the huge hand crushed his shoulder.
    "I shouldn't have brought him here," the president said as he followed her out. "Things could have gone more smoothly without him."
    "I don't think so, Mister President. Some things can be rushed into, but when lives are at stake cooler heads must prevail. I'll call you when I find out more."
    "You don't trust me?"
    "No, Mister President, I don't. When a woman has been through as much as I have, they tend to be distrustful."
    "I do have resources at my disposal to make you see it my way," it was a thinly veiled threat.
    "Yes you do. And if you wish to keep them, give me the time that I've asked for," the sweet smile did not hide the threat in her own words. "Otherwise I will have to take an active interest in your affairs. Like you said, I do have some influence. Don't try to antagonize me, sir, it won't work. And you know what they say about glass houses."
    It was not one of Lady Chastity's better parties. Furen decided that the choice of guests made all the difference when it came to party planning. Chastity sent out feelers throughout the community, but in the next few days she found out nothing.
    In the end, they volunteered, feeling it was their duty to protect their planet, not President McMillian, from invasion.
    Massive silver ships glided silently through far away, nearly unsettled reaches of space. The silver ships reflected the pinpoints of blinding bright lights coming from faraway stars. At three miles long, each faster than light ship looked like a small, symmetrical arrow patrolling the region between Savannah and Webster's Citadel. It was similar to a school of hungry sharks, looking for their next meal.
    Furen pressed the indentation on the right arm of his chair and swiveled to the right to stare at the starboard bridge screens. The Acropolis was a top of the line battle cruiser recently purchased from a shipbuilder at Norfolk, Virginia. As the newest, fastest, ship in the fleet it had become the new flagship for Admiral Sebert, the commander of the Savannah space fleet. Furen looked at Sebert and stared at the screen again where Sebert was pointing.
    "She's there, on the Andrew Paterson," Sebert pointed, then went on with other duties.
    "I see you now, Barbet. You look like a little star from here."
    "They pointed you out too. Why are you so far away?" Barbet asked nervously.
    "We're making a sweep of this area of space. The fleet can cover a wider area if they spread out. At the first sign of trouble, we will all form up into a fleet again. Can you see Mark?"
    There was a brief pause, then she came back, angry and frustrated. "They told me to quit bothering them."
    Mark's laugh interrupted them. "It doesn't matter, Barbet, we can always reach each other even if we can't see each other."
    He liked his new duty. After two days of boring patrols Mark's enthusiasm had not waned. Furen knew he liked it so much because it was so much like their game. Privately, Furen agreed. He also liked being treated like an important dignitary by the sailors on the cruiser. Most of the officers treated him indifferently, since they were not quite sure of his place on board.
    "You two are incorrigible," Barbet said obviously following his thoughts. "I do like this idea of a portable place of power though. We could use this invention ourselves."
    "I got a look at how it works before they clamped down security on the engine room," Mark said. "I think I can duplicate it in no time at all."
    "It's not as strong as the one on Savannah," Furen observed.
    "Of course not, the place of power on Savannah has an entire planet to power it. Here they use small portable generators and standard field projectors."
    "Mister Sender!" Furen was startled to hear his name spoken so harshly. He blinked and looked at the Admiral.
    "Huh?"
    "I suggest that you keep your mind clear to search the area of space ahead of us. That's why you're here, not to chit chat with your little mate."
    It took Furen a moment to digest all the Admiral had said, then another moment to calm his temper.
    He tried to sit up straight and look intimidating, but it was hard for a man who looked like a child, to intimidate people.
    "I heard that," Barbet's angry voice filled his head. He mentally blocked her while he formed his words.
    "Admiral Sebert, you seem to be under the impression that I'm one of your seamen. I'm not. My appropriate title is First Sender, and my WIFE will be referred to as the First Lady, both are titles that deserve great respect. We will not be spoken too as if we were lower life forms and we will not be told when we can or can't talk. Do you understand, sir?" Furen glared while the Admiral tried to stare him down.
    "Just do your job," the admiral growled and turned away.
    "I asked you if you understood!" Furen roared, startling the sailors on the bridge.
    "Are you looking for a confrontation?" the admiral swung around, poised to attack.
    "If necessary. I demand recognition and respect. Otherwise you will find yourself sitting here alone."
    "Idle threats won't impress me, Mister Sender."
    "WAIT!" Barbet's voice filled his head. He could tell by her tone that it was important.
    "I'm feeling something," she said and the image filled Furen's head. It was a mental contact, contact with a sender. If he wasn't mistaken it was a sender from Raglasy, his own home world. It may have been one of the missing senders kidnapped by the Dissenters years before and still unaccounted for.
    "Contact," Furen clipped the word out, not looking at the Admiral. "It's coming from the starboard bow at 43 degrees, at a decline of 12 degrees."
    "Did you hear that Navigator? Pinpoint the contact now," the Admiral roared.
    "I have it sir. It's the enemy fleet."
    "There is a sender on board, a teleporter," Furen said barely above a whisper.
    "Of course there is. Why do you think we needed you in the first place?" the Admiral sneered.
    "Unidentified sender in the approaching fleet, this is Furen First Sender, what are your intentions?" Furen called mentally to the distant contact.
    "What? Who?" the confused mind searched and found Furen and his companions.
    "Who are you and why are you here?" Furen insisted.
    "Gestel from Raglasy? Who are you?"
    "I'm Furen, the new First Sender of Raglasy, along with my wife Barbet and our friend Mark Triston from Savannah. Why are you here?"
    "Barbet's here? Hi Barbet."
    "Hi Gestel. We wondered what happened to you."
    "Savannah? We're at war with Savannah."
    "Why?"
    "Your government declared war on us weeks ago. They executed our diplomats when one of our people found that somebody named McMillian stole an invention and used it to develop planetary weapons. Something called fusible ions. In a weapon it's as powerful as anti-matter. One missile tipped with fusible ions can blast it's way right through a missile, ship, or planet. We have to stop this guy. Why are you helping them?"
    "We live on Savannah now. If McMillan did this he did it on his own. The entire planet is not responsible for his actions."
    "Then why is the fleet here?"
    "To stop your fleet."
    "First Sender, I certainly don't want to fight you, but this man must be stopped and our stolen technology destroyed at all costs. Individual lives are not important in a matter so immense. I must insist that we be allowed to pass."
    "If I promise to take care of this personally, will you hold your fleet at bay?"
    "Certainly, First Sender, if I have YOUR promise."
    "You do. We will be leaving the fleet immediately. If they pursue you, do what you must, they're on their own. But don't initiate a confrontation or I will be forced to return and assist them."
    "Yes sir. I look forward to meeting you under better circumstances. Uh sir?"
    "Yes?"
    "Do you know where our home world is?" he sounded so lost that Furen laughed out loud. He passed on the location of Raglasy and blinked, looking at the Admiral.
    "The fleet will be withdrawing now."
    "Good, we can catch them with their tails between their legs."
    "They aren't withdrawing because they fear you, they're withdrawing because I promised to handle their grievance myself."
    "Doesn't matter to me, I'm attacking while I have the chance."
    "Not with us."
    "You're planning on going somewhere without my permission or my shuttles?" he sneered, then his eyes widened as Furen disappeared. In moments frantic calls from the other two ships told him that he was left without a teleporter. Well, he didn't like their attitudes anyway, he really didn't need them. That had been the President's idea.
    "Set a course for the enemy fleet and engage," he called to the navigator.
    Furen appeared on the plantation's platform first, followed by Barbet and Mark. They looked around, dazed for a moment, then their senses returned.
    "I knew we couldn't trust him," Barbet growled.
    "Who?" Mark asked, "Oh, the President. How will we handle that?" he looked down at Furen expectantly.
    "Let's talk to your mother first, she can handle the political side of things. Then we can gather a small army and storm the capital, if necessary."
    "You're back," Jerry rushed out of the warehouse in surprise. A door slammed and Marcus joined them, happy, but puzzled.
    Furen turned to Mark. "Mark, your first job is to protect the mansion and chalet from attack. You and Jerry rig some defenses."
    "Against what?"
    Furen sighed and raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I don't know. Anything from a large army to FTL battle cruisers. Most importantly, we need those portable generators and places of power set up at both the chalet and the plantation, as soon as possible. We can't fight from here and do an adequate job of protecting our homes. Do you think you can do that?"
    "Sure, I can... I will..." he paused, drumming his fingers on his face, then stiffened. "I need some stuff," he said breathlessly and hurried inside to use the entercom. Jerry shrugged in amusement and followed him.
    "Marcus," Furen said and put a hand on his son's head, "we may have a fight ahead of us. I need you to take the children to the courtyard, it has a screen over it already that can repel most anything. The places of power will be ready soon, set ours up in the courtyard. You stay there and protect our babies, and our friends. If anybody tries to hurt them make them go away."
    "To where?"
    "Straight up," Furen pointed with a finger. "One mile straight up."
    Marcus nodded, then the importance of Furen's words hit him and he turned slightly green. He swallowed nervously and nodded again.
    "Good boy. We wouldn't ask you if it wasn't necessary."
    "I know, dad. Nobody hurts our family."
    "Can you send yourself to the chalet?" Furen asked, knowing already that he could.
    Marcus nodded and disappeared. Lady Chastity would have been following the progress of the fleet on the entercom, since her son was involved. It went without saying that President McMillian would also have been watching.
    Without another word, Furen and Barbet teleported to the front lawn of the mansion, counting on Mark to provide a place of power so they wouldn't have to return to the platform in the heat of battle on a hovercraft. They nearly collided with dozens of milling, running people on the front lawn. One man yelped and jumped aside as he was about to run through the space they now occupied. Furen and Barbet hurried inside. Lady Chastity was in the dinning room, calling orders. The table was littered with weapons of all shapes and sizes. Furen heard a loud machine start up outside and looked out the door behind him. A huge hoverdozer was pushing up dirt on her lawn.
    "Your beautiful lawn," Barbet wailed as she pointed at the machine.
    "I can grow a new one. Right now we need defenses," Chastity called and hurried out of the room. They followed, trying to avoid the people rushing about in all directions.
    "There's coffee in the dispenser and cider in the fridge," Chastity called to them, then turned back to watch the women taking stock of their supplies. She roughly pulled a package out of one woman's hand and placed it in a different pile, already ignoring them.
    "Chastity, have you contacted anyone yet about McMillian?" Furen asked as Barbet handed him a tall glass of cider.
    She hurried to close the pantry and spoke to the women. "Good, we won't have to rely on that horrible recomb for our food. Yes, I called several people of importance. They are holding their own meeting, then Parliament will meet in five hours. McMillian is bound to be arrested after they make a decision."
    "Five hours?" Barbet said in horror.
    "I know, it's not soon enough," Chastity wiped her hands on her beautiful dress and poured herself coffee. "That's why I'm getting ready for a siege. Until Parliament makes a decision he has the military at his disposal. I'm keeping twenty-four people to protect the plantation, the other thirteen are going to your chalet."
    "Good, we have five servants of our own and a very dependable son," Barbet said with some pride.
    "He's quite a little rascal," Chastity said with a smile.
    "Clear a hole, incoming!" Mark's voice filled their heads. Furen and Barbet quickly cleared the people from one side of the dinning room and a stack of packages and crates suddenly appeared. In a moment Mark and Jerry arrived next to the packages. They stood with vacant, foolish looks until their heads stopped spinning, their brains caught up with their bodies, and they became aware of their surroundings. Mark beamed with pride and waved Furen forward. He began digging through the boxes and crates, separating the items he was looking for.
    "I've got more than we need here."
    Furen looked at the huge pile of stuff in amazement.
    "Where'd this come from?"
    "I remembered where everything was kept in a store where I was shopping a few weeks ago. It's an electrical supply store called the Outback Exchange. I used the place of power to pick up everything on the shelves in the general areas of the stuff I wanted. I had to make sure I got the right items the first time. There's still a huge pile on the warehouse platform."
    "It must have cost a fortune," Furen said in wonder.
    "I wouldn't know, I stole it. Ribley will kill me when this emergency is over and I tell him where half his inventory went. My tools!" Mark bellowed over his shoulder. In a moment two men came rushing in with large tool boxes.
    Mark waved Jerry and Furen forward. "Take out the items I take out and do what I do," he said and began working. Barbet and Chastity came over to watch, and help where they could. The two generators were just taking shape when a middle aged man rushed over to Lady Chastity.
    "Ma'am, the fleet is returning," he said breathlessly.
    "How many are left?"
    "Seventeen ships were lost, eleven survived. The Admiral has sworn to kill..."
    "Yes?"
    "He's sworn to kill every talent on the planet and anyone who helps them," the man swallowed and looked at Furen.
    "No big surprise," Lady Chastity said with a negligent wave of her hand. "We will simply have to stop him."
    "How?" the man wailed.
    "That doesn't concern you. You just stand by to take orders and we will handle it."
    "Yes ma'am, if you say so," he said and turned away.
    "McMillian will be here long before the fleet arrives anyway," Chastity whispered to Barbet, then leaned down to watch.
    An elderly man rushed in the door, looked around, then hurried over to Lady Chastity. He looked like he was about to salute, then smiled to himself and tapped her on the shoulder.
    "Yes, Rodney?"
    "The defenses are complete. We have doppler set up at ten mile interval out to three hundred miles. The two laser cannons have been positioned here and at the chalet. I'm about to go there myself."
    "Good, Rodney. Good job. Take good care of those Sender kids, we're depending on you." Rodney nodded and hurried out.
    "Jerry, can you set up the small arms defenses outside. Use whoever you need."
    "Yes, ma'am, it will be my pleasure."
    "There, that takes care of the generators," Mark said in satisfaction. He moved over and checked Furen's then smiled and nodded.
    "The field itself should be nothing more than a modified magnetic shield, with a few adjustments. It should be better than what they had," he said proudly and began pulling crates from the pile.
    "How much longer, dear?" Chastity asked Mark as he pulled and grunted over his crates.
    "Possibly fifteen minutes, maybe a little more."
    "How will we get the second one to the chalet?" Barbet asked.
    "Once the first one is done, we can send it," Mark stood and handed Furen a crate. Chastity hurried over to help Furen carry it to his generator. Furen appreciated the help. They all stopped as a claxton sounded from outside. People called in confusion and fear, several women screamed and rushed inside. Furen watched them hurry out of sight and hoped they were not essential for their defense. Chastity and Barbet ran to the door. Furen stood to follow.
    "No! Finish your sending unit," Mark called and knelt down to solder wires to the generator. Furen looked longingly at the door, then knelt down beside his own.
    "What do you think it is?" he called loud enough to be heard over the claxton. He tried not to betray his nervousness. Mark was outwardly cool and calm.
    "Troop transports or ICBM's," Mark said with a shrub. "We can't help outside, but if they stop them with the cannons, these will be needed to handle the big stuff. Trust them," Mark said as he calmly laid more wire bundles out and began attaching them.
    As Furen worked he suddenly realized that Mark was thinking out his strategy as he would in the game. Once Furen saw things in that light, he too saw the practicality of finishing their primary weapon, while the anti-aircraft took care of the small stuff. Mark had once said he was a great general, it was time he started thinking like one. Of course in the game he did not have a family at risk if he made a bad decision.
    The scream of the laser cannon was followed by loud echoing explosions. The echoes would be coming from the mountains. Furen realized that there was another benefit from the mountains besides causing a water shed, they stopped low flying aircraft from approaching in that direction. After several moments the claxton stopped. They heard cheers outside a minute before Lady Chastity and Barbet led a talking, joyful crowd back inside.
    "Wow?" Chastity said glowing. "Between the two cannons, one here and one at the chalet, the missiles didn't have a chance. They were caught in a cross- fire. Good work, Mark."
    "Mark?" Furen asked as he tried to copy Marks actions, soldiering wires from the shield to the generator.
    "Mark had these cannons brought in over ten years ago. I always thought he was crazy. I cursed them each time I needed more storage space and they were in the way. Now I'm glad we had them."
    "I brought them in for Schroder. McMillian never knew about them, I'd bet," Mark said, undisturbed by his mother's praise.
    "There," Mark said and stood, holding his sore back for a moment as he watched Furen finish his own shield.
    "It's done?" Chastity asked hopefully.
    "It will work now, but we still need to install a cooling system," Mark said and turned back to the crates. "At least we have them if we need them, but without cooling we can't leave them on for more than a few minutes at a time."
    Rodney returned, looking more nervous than ever. He cleared his throat and Chastity turned questioningly.
    "The fleet is not our only problem, ma'am."
    "Oh?"
    "It seems that the enemy fleet from Webster's Citadel is pursuing them."
    Furen stood up suddenly and looked at Rodney.
    "What are they doing?"
    "Nothing, just following."
    Barbet stamped her little foot, attracting everyone's attention. "Gestel promised to wait?" Barbet said angrily.
    "He's not attacking, dear. He only promised not to attack. As far as that goes I have not kept my promise to stop McMillian. He has every right to step in if I fail."
    "But we need time, we can't even get at him yet," she said in outrage.
    "As he indicated, there is no time. As long as his fleet is out there he may distract McMillian long enough for us to act. And, if we fail, he's there to stop the President before he can harm his people. Either way, I'm glad he's out there."
    "I guess," she relented stubbornly.
    "Ok," Mark called happily. "Here's yours, Furen, and here's mine. The large coils wrap around the armature, the fan blows through the generator at the end here," he pointed at the end of the huge generator, "and the small coils wrap tightly around the shield projector. Both coils of tubing are separate and attach individually on the compressor. The LH bottle is fed into the compressor here," he pointed again, this time at an ungainly device that looked like a squashed metal turtle with wires and tubes coming out of it in all directions. "Be careful when you attach the liquid hydrogen to the compressor, it's cold and it's explosive. Brass wrenches only."
    Furen nodded, took the handful of gadgets and tried to follow Mark's example. Mark made it look much easier than Furen could, even though Furen had a perfect memory. But with some final assistance from Mark they both finished in a few minutes.
    "Who tries it out?" Mark asked wistfully. They all laughed and waved him forward. Mark stepped up and activated the generator. It made a pleasing hum. But the pleasure went out of the room when they felt the hairs standing up all over their bodies. If felt like a hundred crawling things all over them.
    "Is it supposed to do that?" Lady Chastity asked in alarm as she vigorously rubbed both arms.
    "Oh yeah, you should have been in the engine room of that ship, this is nothing compared to theirs. Mine has less leakage," he said proudly and read the dials. Mark's eyes unfocused and the empty crates suddenly disappeared. He looked up happily and motioned for Furen to activate his. Reluctantly, Furen did so. He had more problems with the static electricity, since he had twice the hair on his body than a normal human. But in a moment he heard the hum of his own generator join Marks until they were throbbing in unison. Mark stepped forward and checked it carefully, running his hands from one end to the other, feeling for heat around the generator and pulling on electrical connections. He stood and nodded, sending the second unit to the chalet. Furen was happy to feel the unit arrive at the chalet, with it's separate pieces still attached and functioning. They should have constructed it on some sort of platform.
    "There, we're ready for anything," he Mark said confidently, then wiped his head dramatically and fell into a chair.
    Furen passed silent instructions to Marcus in how to activate and use the generator. In a moment Marcus replied that he had it.
    "Smart little guy," Mark said, immensely proud of his namesake.
    "Thanks," Marcus answered and they all laughed.
    "Now maybe we have time to eat," Lady Chastity said breathlessly.
    "We need to shut these down until we need them," Mark said and reached forward to do so. Furen passed the word to Marcus.
    Chastity turned and called to the kitchen. "Betty, let's get some food in here while there's time. And send somebody out with food for the people on the line, too. This could be a long siege. NOW!" she shouted at a lack of response. There was a murmur of acknowledgement and the sound of dishes being rattled. Furen thought Chastity had spoken rather severely until he saw that Betty was one of the woman who ran screaming into the house during the attack. Chastity somehow knew she had run into the kitchen, probably to the pantry which she had inventoried hours before.
    "If it is, it's out of our hands," Furen said restlessly. "How long until Parliament meets?"
    "About an hour and a half," Chastity glanced at her chrono ring.
    They all sat down to a good meal, and a long wait.
    Mark's chronometer consisted of a small chip implanted in the back of his hand. It ran off the electrical impulses of his body. He took to staring at it with his chin resting on his arm. Lady Chastity and Barbet took food out to the people waiting outside and sat on a crate to watch the radar screen. Furen dozed off across the table from Mark. The time passed slowly. At fifteen minutes before Parliament met the claxton went off again.
    "Troop ships," somebody yelled from outside.
    "Marcus, turn on your generator," Furen yelled mentally and leaped to his feet. Normally Furen could not project his mind more than a few feet without a place of power, but with two powerful minds sending and receiving and the added strength created by fear, Furen could hear his son clearly.
    "I already did, father, we can see the ships on our screens too."
    Mark was leaning down to turn on the generator. Furen never knew how he got around the table so fast without teleporting, but he was there when Furen turned.
    As the power filled them they could reach out with their minds and find the ships and men easily.
    "Regular army assault troops--- commando's," Mark mumbled as he surveyed the approaching ships mentally. "I grew up with three of the soldiers on those ships. It will be hard to kill them."
    "Maybe we don't have too," Furen said aloud. "We could ground the ships before they get close enough for Jerry to shoot. But they need to be far enough away so the men will walk back, not proceed here on foot."
    "Then let's do it now, they're one hundred and sixty miles out and closing fast," Mark mumbled and began on his own. Furen followed Mark's mind and added his own strength to it. In a moment he felt Barbet and Marcus join them. They swatted the first ship to the ground like a fly. It veered to the ground, threw up a mighty cloud of dirt, and exploded on impact. With less force they grounded the next five, effectively destroying them without killing the occupants. The remaining seven turned and fled.
    They all breathed a sigh of relief and returned to their bodies to hear the claxton still going.
    "Attack from space!" Lady Chastity yelled, shaking Mark violently. She had been yelling all along, but they couldn't hear her while they were focused on the troop ships. They joined minds and surged upwards to find one lone battle cruiser, newly refitted and just released for duty, descending on them from twenty miles up. They turned the ship aside just as it was about to fire torpedoes and missiles. By twisting a crucial three ton component off the engine and sending it toward Savannah's primary, the ship became lifeless and spun slowly through space, away from the planet. It would take them a week to find and fit a replacement part and by then the battle would be long over.
    With their minds still joined they searched the entire area for any sign of attack from the air or land. The only threat was from the grounded troops in the battered troop ships. Even at a hundred miles out they were marching toward the plantation. It would take them more than a day to arrive, so they were not immediate threat. With a joint sigh of relief they found nothing more.
    Turning the troop ships had been simple. Turning and casting the battle cruiser away had taken all their combined strength. They wilted as their minds returned to their bodies.
    "We can't do that very often," Barbet breathed heavily while leaning against the table.
    "We can never repel the entire fleet," Furen agreed in horror. "I had forgotten just how much work it took to send Schroder's ship to it's death. These are larger and heavier."
    "I suggest that I stay here and you two go to the warehouse platform," Mark said as he fell into a chair. "It's much stronger than these tiny generators."
    "Give us a minute to regain our strength," Barbet said churlishly, then waved a hand in apology.
    "It still won't be enough, and we all know it," Furen said grimly, glancing at Lady Chastity to see her reaction.
    She was at a loss. She glanced down at her chronometer and hurried into the den. In a moment she called them in.
    "Parliament unanimously impeached President McMillian and charged him with treason. Now they're afraid for their lives. They want to know if we can help," she looked up hopelessly.
    "We all need help and there isn't any," Furen groaned, looking around the room like a trapped animal.
    "I can help," a voice filled their heads, a faraway tentative, but strong voice.
    "Who's that?" Mark sat up and stared at Furen in surprise.
    "Who's what, dear?" Chastity asked, her face puzzled.
    "Quiet, mom, somebody's talking to us."
    "That's Gestel, the enemy sender," Barbet said in surprise.
    "I'm not an enemy, I'm just on a different side. Or am I? You need help and we can provide it."
    "He's right, that may be the answer we're looking for," Furen said mentally for Gestel's benefit.
    "I never imagined joining the enemy fleet. If we win, we may be executed for treason," Mark squinted as he reviewed their options. "But if we don't we will all die. At least the first option allows us to protect our families," he sighed and looked at his mother with a tired smile.
    "You do what you have to do, dear. Let me worry about treason. Right now Parliament needs a favor. I'm sure they would be willing to overlook a few things in return for our protection."
    "We need one person to stay at the chalet, that's Marcus," Furen said deliberately, "but we also need somebody to stay here. The cannon alone can't protect the mansion."
    Mark looked around, suddenly worried. "Let Barbet stay, I'm stronger than she is anyway."
    "No you're not," Barbet stood at her full 35 inch height and gave him a defiant look."
    Mark snorted and turned to Furen for his opinion. Furen frowned as he considered the problem. In a moment he shook his head at Mark.
    "Stay, Mark, you're needed here. Barbet and I work best together, and Gestel may be nervous about working with... the enemy."
    "Mom!" Mark turned to her for her support. She shook her head slowly.
    "You heard Furen. He IS the First Sender, dear."
    "This isn't the game, Mark," Furen said patiently. "If we lose here, we lose our lives and our loved ones. We can't reset this game and start over at level one like we do in Metal Marines. This is the only level we get."
    "I know that, but..." With a crestfallen look he sank in a chair and refused to look at them. Furen pulled Barbet closer and the used the generator to send themselves to the distant mind of Gestel far above.
    Admiral Sebert looked dirty, tired, and unkempt. His haunted eyes looked around the bridge as they neared their home planet.
    "A communication from President McMillian," the Communications Officer said in the painful silence.
    Sebert jumped at the sudden noise, then turned his angry eyes at the Communications Officer. The young lieutenant swallowed nervously and waited.
    "And?" Sebert asked sarcastically.
    "He want's us to attack a location on the planet. He say's it's the home of the senders, ALL the senders," the Lieutenant stressed the word "all".
    "Where?" Sebert shot upright and suddenly brightened.
    "Thirty miles southwest of Swahelow. Latitude..."
    "Never mind, just take us to an orbit above it," Sebert said hungrily.
    "Yes sir," the Communications Officer transferred the coordinates from his computer to the Navigation Officer, who nodded and plotted the new course. The ship started a slow, deliberate turn and the rest of the crippled fleet followed without question. Nobody seemed to notice the enemy fleet bearing down on them until the radio crackled into life, filling the bridge with sound.
    "Savannah fleet, this Admiral Guest on the WCF Fuller Thurston, demanding that you heave too and prepare to be boarded."
    Sebert screamed in outrage and slapped his hand down on the ship-to-ship button. "To hell with you."
    "No sir, if you don't heave too, hell is your destination. We have a full compliment of weapons, minimal damage and three strong teleporters on board. Will you surrender?"
    "No!" Sebert screamed in the microphone panel. But even as he did he heard several of his captains answering yes. He sat up stiffly in his chair and his insane eyes rushed over the blinking lights on his viewscreen.
    "Weapons, if any of our ships pull out of formation, fire on them immediately."
    "What?" Weapons asked in consternation.
    "You heard me. I will tolerate no cowardice, here or in my fleet."
    As ships began pulling out of formation, he screamed in rage and pointed each one out.
    "Shoot them down, damit. Now!"
    Weapons turned to his console, then looked up at his fellow officers for support. They pretended not to notice. Resolutely he targeted the departing ships and fired. Three torpedoes solidly hit the tail of the nearest ship and sent it spinning off into space. In a moment the remaining five ships broke ranks and activated their FTL drives, disappearing in a wink.
    "Turn us about, but continue firing on the enemy fleet," the Admiral roared. Navigation quickly turned the ship while Weapons put up an offensive fire that he knew would spell his doom. Even as the FTL drive kicked in, nearly a hundred torpedoes answered his barrage. They winked out just before the barrage caught them. Everyone knew it was only a temporary reprieve, the ships would pursue them and the enemy had teleporters who could eventually find them, even while traveling at faster than light, if they stayed there too long.
    "Set course for the coordinates McMillian gave us," Sebert said grimly.
    "But sir, when we slow down the enemy will destroy us."
    "We're not slowing down. If we're going to die I'm taking those stinking, traitorous teleporters with me."
    "But that's insane," a voice said from the bridge.
    "Who said that?" Sebert raged, searching the faces on the bridge. Everyone was busy at their consoles.
    "Seventeen minutes until impact, sir. Are you sure you want to do this?" Navigation asked helplessly.
    "Damned sure. And don't question my orders again, mister."
    "I'm getting a strange reading," Weapons said nervously. "It looks like..."
    "YOU WANTED A CONFRONTATION, AND NOW YOU'VE GOT ONE!" Furen's voice filled their heads, making them cry out in pain. They saw the missile suddenly appear out of nowhere, filling the bridge, making them duck back in horror. The missile was so big that only the Communications Officer could see the Admiral on the far side of it. He stared at the Admiral's frightened eyes as the Admiral slowly stood, his mouth working wordlessly.
    "You've killed us you pathetic son- of-a..." the Communications Officer's words were lost in the explosion which evaporated the ship from the inside out.
    As a planetary representative, Furen led the WC Marines to the capital building. Barbet led two squads to the mansion to help repel the last of the commandos from there and the chalet. Later, Furen broke into the Parliament building and rescued the members of parliament while most were still alive, gaining their eternal gratitude and instant pardon. When everything returned to normal, they all returned to the plantation and compared notes before anyone realized that McMillian and Arthur, his aid, were unaccounted for.
    Over the next few weeks a planet-wide search turned up no sign of them. Savannah began to relax it's vigil, but the Tristons and Senders did not.
    There was much talk of nominating Lady Chastity as the new President of Savannah, but she adamantly refused.
    "I have enough trouble, just keeping this plantation running," she told Furen and Barbet during one of their many visits.
    Furen stood with his arm around Barbet's waist and watched the children picking corn for the evening meal. The kids liked picking corn, it was always a hapyy occasion. But Furen was not happy, he was restless. Knowing that McMillian was still at large somewhere was like waiting for the now-extinct Zarbats to attack. He didn't like the feeling, even though he had grown used to it. He made his own private searches using the place of power and his mind, but in the end he had to admit that McMillian was no longer on the planet. He didn't believe for a moment that the fight was over, the confrontation between them was just postponed until both sides were ready for a second battle.
    Furen followed the happy children to the door and paused, searching the sky. Where was he? How long before he attacked again? Reluctantly, he went inside to help his family husk corn.

Please go to The First Sender, Book 4