The First Sender



Book Four


     Furen shifted the pile of tomatoes until he could balance the last huge tomato in the middle of the basket. He stood, rubbing his aching back as he surveyed the empty, withering vines. He reached up to wiped his sweaty face, then jumped when a shadow moved behind him. His son appeared, dazed from teleporting, then his eyes brightened as he looked at his father.
     "Is that the last load, dad?" Marcus asked as he stepped up to stand beside him. Marcus had just finished his shift at the warehouse and teleported directly to the garden, where he knew his father was working. One advantage of working at a place of power was that any of the Sender family could keep in contact with the others, even over great distances. At close proximity they needed no place of power. Both the Sender chalet, and the Triston's mansion had their own artificial places of power in the form of generators and sending fields invented by Mark Triston. The warehouse and its teleportation station had a natural place of power of great strength. Through that they could send people or things almost anywhere in the universe.
     Furen turned and looked at his 11 year old son with a pained expression on his face.
     "It's the last one I'm doing. We can save the rest for a week or so. That poor canner will have a breakdown if we shove anything else at it today."
     "Speaking of breakdowns, the laundry butler died again. Mom says the clothes come out clean and neatly folded, but burned to a crisp."
     "Call Jerry," Furen said with a tired shake of his head.
     "I told him at work. He said he'd be over when he finished his shift."
     "Thanks, son. Do you think you can help your tired old dad carry this into the house?"
     "Sure dad," Marcus said and the basket suddenly disappeared. Furen groaned and shook his head. A high-pitched female scream come from the kitchen. In a moment Barbet's angry face appeared at the kitchen window.
     "Uh oh, now you've done it," Furen said and covered his face.
     "Who did it this time?" Barbet demanded angrily.
     "Must have been me, mom. Sorry."
     "You can clean up your own mess, I just finished your father's."
     "Sure." He turned and gave his father a quizzical look. "What's up?" Marcus asked in confusion.
     "She has sterilized cans full of water sitting all over the kitchen floor. I would say the basket landed right in the middle of them. Lady Chastity told her some horror story about food poisoning, so she sterilizes each can instead of letting the canner do it. It took her hours of boiling to sterilize each one to her satisfaction.
     You have to remember to always visualize before you send. Actually this is a very good lesson. Suppose you had been transporting tons of produce and landed it on a crowd of tourists?"
     "Mom said you did it last time," Marcus reminded him.
     "No backtalk, get in there and clean up your mess," Furen said, turning red and pretending to kick his son as he passed. His son was getting too smart for his own good. It had been much easier when the children were young and naive.
    
     Jerry arrived two hours later with a tool belt strapped to his waist. His red, Irish face was a familiar sight at the Sender house. Besides being the foreman at the warehouse, he was godfather to the children, baby sitter, bodyguard, handyman, and, of course, their most frequent visitor and dinner guest. Furen met Jerry at the door and ushered him in.
     "What is it this time, the canner, field generator, entercom, window washers, or laundry butler?" he asked as he paused at the entrance and sniffed. "Must be the canner," he said with a smile, "it sure smells good in here."
     "Nope, it's the laundry butler again," Furen said and hurried him towards the wall entrance before he could change his mind.
     "Oh, not the laundry butler, I hate that thing. I have to crawl inside to fix it. Why don't you just buy another one, you're rich enough."
     "Barbet likes this one because it can clean anything. No matter what the kids get into, she peals off their clothes and just tosses them in. They always come out new, until now."
     "Yeah, that's probably what's killing it. Well if they're burned, it's the drying unit. That's the worst of all, it's halfway between the sonic wash and the folder. Why don't you fix it, a little munchkin like you could fit in there?"
     "I don't know how to fix things, Jerry, that's your expertise."
     Jerry gave him a skeptical look and bent to remove the wall access panels. Furen jumped back to avoid the swinging tools on his belt. Sometimes it was dangerous being around Jerry when he worked. There were disadvantages to being 30 inches tall in a world of six foot giants, and one of them was the hazards of a tool belt which was the same height as his head. Furen quickly retreated.
     Furen walked carefully through the hazardous path created by Barbet's cans and neatly-ordered stacks of produce. The canner was working furiously at the back of the kitchen. Barbet had all three children washing and trimming vegetables while she stuffed cans and placed them on the little conveyor belt leading into the canner. Furen watched as the newest shiny metal can slowly moved inside the steaming canner. It chugged and groaned until the can came out on the other side, neatly sealed and labeled "tomato sauce". Eager to help, Furen grabbed the can to add it to the stack marked tomato sauce. He noticed the others watching him and suddenly realized the can was very hot. He dropped it with an oath and watched it roll off the counter and through a dozen neatly-ordered cans on the floor. Water spread in an ever- widening puddle. Furen watched it, fascinated by the reflection of the overhead light panels. He didn't want to meet Barbet's angry glance.
     "Daddy swore," Chastity accused breathlessly. He gave her a dark look and Barbet stepped in front of him, placing her hand on his chest and pushing him backwards.
     "Furen."
     "Yes dear?"
     "Go away."
     With a shrug he left the kitchen. Everything was obviously under control, he wasn't needed there. When it came right down to it there was very little that Furen could do, other than his job. He had the strongest mind on the planet, but when it came to using his hands, he was lost. He returned to Jerry, needing somebody to talk too. Maybe he could learn a few things from Jerry and fix the laundry butler himself next time. With his photographic memory, it should be easy to learn the basics in no time.
     "Hey, get out of my light," Jerry yelled from somewhere inside the wall. Furen quickly backed away from the opening. He made his way out the door and sat on the front steps. As despondent as he felt he soon began enjoying the warm autumn afternoon despite himself. His glance fell on his small, custom- made hovercraft and he decided to wash it. He was just putting the finishing touches on his little craft when he heard the roar of an engine. He looked up in horror to see Mark arriving with his usual abandon. As usual, Mark roared up to the front door at break-neck speed and cut the engines. The huge hovercraft plowed into the sandy driveway and sent up a cloud of dust that moved through the air and settled on Furen's clean little hovercraft. He raised his rag, looked at the dust-covered vehicle, and dropped the rag on the grass, turning to meet his visitors.
     The bubble raised and Mark climbed out of one side, while Lady Chastity majestically stepped from the other. They exchanged greetings and Lady Chastity hurried inside to help Barbet.
     "Guess what?" Mark said happily.
     "You're going to take driving lessons?" Furen asked as he looked at his dust-covered craft.
     "No, my driving's perfect," Mark looked down and blinked in surprise. "The military picked up a disturbance in the area. They think it's some type of highly-advanced energy probe looking the planet over. Beats anything they've ever seen before. They expect contact from an alien race any time now. Let's go inside and follow it on your entercom."
     "Why not, the entercom is one thing I know how to work," Furen said in a sullen mood. Actually he was eager for a distraction.
     "Hey, what's up, little buddy? You sound depressed."
     "Other than my work, I'm not good at anything, Mark."
     "Ok," Mark nodded slowly as his mind raced, "but your work is what keeps this planet going, isn't that enough?"
     "No."
     "So what do you want to do?"
     "I don't know. I guess I want to build, fix, or create something."
     "You need a hobby," Mark led the way up the steps and threw the door open.
     "Hey, that's perfect, leave it open," a voice said from the walls.
     "You have a talking house?" Mark stopped in surprise.
     "No, Jerry's in there again," Furen pointed at the opening in the wall. "The laundry butler died."
     "May God rest his soul," Mark said with a smile and placed a hand over his heart. He turned and surveyed the wall, then pounded it soundly on his way to the library. A loud roar came from inside. Furen smiled and rolled his eyes. They entered the library and turned on the wall-sized entercom. Mark flashed through the stations until he found the Government Channel. They sat back and watched.
     The entire Savannah space fleet was spread out around the solar system. Government flyers were patrolling the surface of the planet, and early warning scanning stations were reporting touchdowns of the strange probe whenever they occurred. With all three resources working together they were trying to lock onto the probe and trace it back to it's source. What worried them was that the probe did not appear to have a source.
     Furen and Mark were most fascinated by the pictures being relayed from space.
     "You know," Mark said slowly, "we have credits. Between the two of use we have more money than the richest family on Savannah."
     "So?" Furen asked hesitantly. He knew how Mark's mind worked and didn't want to commit to anything until he saw what Mark was up to.
     "A scout ship is expensive, about seventeen trillion credits fully loaded, but if we ordered one from Norfolk now, we could save the credits before it's finished. In two years we could captain our own ship."
     "A scout ship? Are you crazy?"
     "No. Are you bored?" Mark countered.
     "Yes," Furen admitted.
     "So why don't we put our credits together and get a ship? We could explore, do some prospecting, visit other planets," Mark said enticingly.
     "Barbet would explode if I even mentioned it."
     "How do you know? You two have a mental bond that's scary. I'm sure she knows how depressed you feel. Ask her."
     "What about your mom? Why don't you ask her first?"
     "Because if Barbet says yes, then mom will be a pushover. Mom values her opinion."
     "Really?" Furen asked in surprise. He knew they were friends, but he didn't know Chastity valued Barbet's opinion so much. It made sense though, Barbet was always careful and thought through each decision carefully before she gave an opinion. As far as he knew she'd never been wrong.
     "Ok, I'll ask her," Furen said. He felt a cold lump forming in the pit of his stomach. The last thing he wanted now was to argue with Barbet, but Mark was right. A space craft was just what he needed. Both he and Mark loved the freedom of space, they were truly happy there, despite it's inherent dangers. Teleporting directly from one planet to another was not the same as space travel.
     "Well?" Mark prompted.
     "What?"
     "Go ask."
     "Now?" Furen panicked. He was saved by the entercom.
     "Hey. Hey! There it is," Mark shouted and stood, pointing at the entercom screen. They saw a golden blob approaching the surface of the planet, as it was photographed from a ship in space. It passed through the atmosphere without leaving any visible sign that it had passed.
     "No heat and no vapor trail," Furen observed. "It has no mass."
     "Or it has a revolutionary new shield that we know nothing about," Mark said absently. His mouth practically watered as he studied the golden blob and wished he could get his hands on it for a day.
     "Even a shield heats up when it passes through the atmosphere."
     "Our's do, maybe their's don't?"
     "What's going on in here?" Barbet appeared at the door, followed by Lady Chastity. "I could feel the excitement clear out in the kitchen. Look, my hairs are standing up," she extended her dainty little child-like arm, but they ignored her.
     "Uh oh," Mark said suddenly and stood, pointing at the screen.
     "What?" Barbet asked and moved around to see the screen.
     "It's coming here," Furen said in a tight voice.
     There was a clap of thunder outside which shook the building. They heard Jerry shout an oath from inside the walls. Mark and Furen pushed the women aside in their rush for the front door.
     "Careful," Chastity warned, but they ignored her and raced out. There was a shimmering golden blob sitting on the lawn next to Mark's hovercraft. It was larger than the hovercraft and gave off a blinding glow that was reflected by the glass bubble and polished chrome of Mark's craft.
     There was no smell of heat or energy in the air, only the slight smell of dust which might have been left over from Mark's arrival. As they watched, the blob shimmered and weakened. In a moment it disappeared and a tall, robbed man stood in the center. He looked like the typical representations of an old prophet, or God himself. He wore a long, white, robe that touched the ground. One sandaled foot was visible under the hem. He held a tall wooden staff with a golden cat head on top. The staff was at least seven feet long and was dwarfed by the tall man who held it. He seemed to grow as he approached. As he neared, Furen realized that the alien was at least 8 feet tall, dwarfing even Mark and Lady Chastity, who he had always thought of as giants. The alien's long white beard hung down to his sash and swayed while he walked.
     The giant's eyes were lively and friendly as he surveyed the crowd on the front steps. His glance quickly passed over Furen and centered on Lady Chastity for a moment, then went to Mark. His mouth worked and they heard a grating roar. Furen was the first to realize that the giant was talking.
     "He's speaking a strange language," Furen whispered. The eyes went to him, then back to Mark. He gently lowered his staff until it was touching Mark's head. Mark flinched at first, then allowed the touch. The giant raised the staff again. Mark suddenly understood the giant.
     "Are you Furen?" he asked, seemingly convinced of the answer before he heard it.
     "No, he is," Mark pointed down at the tiny man standing next to him.
     A look of surprise crossed the kindly face, then the eyes crinkled in humor. He extended his staff again and touched Furen lightly.
     "You are Furen The First Sender?" he asked quizzically.
     "Yes," Furen said defensively, embarrassed by his size.
     "Furen, what's going on?" Barbet demanded.
     "She's my wife," Furen pointed over his shoulder. The giant reached out and touched Barbet with the staff, then hesitated and touched Lady Chastity.
     "There, now we can all understand each other. I am a representative of a faraway galaxy, so far that it's not even charted here. We came seeking your assistance."
     "Why would somebody with your technology need our assistance?" Mark asked in surprise.
     "I'm sorry, who are you?" the giant demanded.
     "Mark Triston, his friend and also a sender."
     "Ah, we've heard of you also," the giant nodded.
     "Hey, what the heck's going on?" Jerry demanded as he charged down the steps and stood glowering at the alien giant.
     "Who is this little man?" the giant demanded, becoming aggravated by the interruptions.
     "Our friend," Mark said. "You'd better touch him too."
     The giant reached out with the staff and Jerry swatted it away. "Get that thing away from me."
     Apparently a simple touch was enough, because Jerry was able to join into the conversation.
     "Are there any more bystanders that have to be included in our private conversation, or is this enough?" the giant demanded with one hand on his hip.
     "This will due for now," Furen said. "Now what's the answer?"
     "Which answer?"
     "Why do you need our help?"
     "Oh. I was getting to that. Our planetary system consists of ten planets sharing an orbit around a single primary. Our area of space is far newer than your older, more-settled region of space. Planets that were once useless because of an unstable star system, were divided equally and moved to the two stable primaries long ago. We call our primary, Plazepel, the other primary is called Trazepel. We were once a single race which split into two distinct peoples because of our religious beliefs. I believe they were called Christians and Muslims at one time."
     "You came from Earth?" Mark asked in amazement.
     "We were colonists," the alien nodded. "Our craft was caught up in what you would call a worm hole. We went far beyond our planned destination, came out in the middle of nowhere and traveled through space for three generations before we found a habitable planet. Variations in the primary had destroyed the former race which once occupied the planet, but we were able to salvage some of their technology. We used their teaching devices and medical technology frequently. After three generations we found that we had become the aliens we had displaced. They live on through us, somehow. We're not exactly sure how that came about."
     "So why do you need us?" Barbet asked.
     "Trazepel, our antagonists, have outgrown the resources of their star system and have begun to encroach on our territory. We warned them that continued piracy would result in war, but they persisted. War broke out 150 years ago between our two peoples. They devised a wall of fire to keep us out of their territory. They can pass through at their discretion, we cannot. Although irritating, the wall of fire was nothing more than an inconvenience, at first. But our spies have recently reported that they are fortifying this wall of fire to make it into a weapon which will engulf our system and burn it lifeless. We cannot allow this, of course."
     "I smell a rat," Jerry said, just loud enough for those on the steps to hear.
     The kindly alien eyes suddenly turned hard and studied Jerry's face, then turned back to Furen.
     "We would like you to help us scatter the stars they use to power this wall of fire. That's all."
     "Are you crazy?" Mark asked in amazement. "We can barely move a 25 million ton ship. How could we move a star?"
     "Our technology will assist, of course."
     "With all your technology, why don't you do it yourself?" Jerry asked. Furen felt the anger flare up in the alien's mind, but he quickly controlled his emotions.
     "Our technologies were perfectly balanced. For every new device they came up with, our Techno's came up with an appropriate counter. But the wall of fire is too immense for us to deal with. While we were developing resources for art, commerce, and exploration, they concentrated all their efforts on the wall of fire. By the time we realized it's significance, it was too late to counter it, even if we used all the resources at our disposal. Your help could be the added surprise needed to stop this war once and for all. With the wall down, they would be forced to negotiate peace."
     "If you can come clear to Savannah, why don't you simply go around the wall of fire?" Jerry asked.
     "It encompasses their entire star system. There is no way around it."
     "We need time to discuss this," Jerry said with finality.
     "Time? There is no time, do you think we have unlimited power and can keep this portal open forever. By the way, are you a sender?" the alien asked suspiciously.
     "No."
     "Then this has nothing to do with you, I am speaking to them," he said and turned away in an obvious gesture of dismissal. Jerry growled, rolled up his sleeves and jumped down the steps, bounding at the alien. When he was less than three steps away, he bounced back and hit the lawn explosively. He climbed groggily to his feet while the alien looked on sadly, then ignored him.
     "It takes a great deal of energy to keep this portal open, and I suspect that your planetary defenses are narrowing down my position even as we speak."
     "How long will this take, and do we have your personal guarantee that you will return us?" Furen asked.
     "I believe that one of your days would be adequate, and of course I would return you," the alien said, somewhat stiffly.
     "If you live so far away, how did you know about us?" Barbet asked.
     "Our technology and enlightenment allow us to access the consciousness."
     "What is the consciousness?" Barbet insisted on a clear answer.
     "It is a force made up of the entire consciousness of the universe. Every thinking being or creature leaks thoughts out into the universe. In a way, the universe itself is made a living, sentient being by this great consciousness. Your own psychics tap into the consciousness to a limited extent. Your actions recently made you important to many beings from several star systems. Their thoughts about you made you a dominant force in the consciousness. As you are forgotten by these millions of beings, your dominance will fade. But at this moment you are easily traced by the thoughts contributing to the consciousness."
     "I don't know if I like that?" Barbet said apprehensively.
     "It can be dangerous at times, but I would not worry," the alien reassured him. "Most creatures of immense power and ill- will are being dealt with. You have little to fear."
     "What kind of creatures, and who dealt with them?" Mark asked. Furen could feel his worry. Most of it was directed towards his mother.
     "Can you explain to a savage how a crystalline recycling phase inducer functions?" he asked, then saw the blank looks.
     "Sorry, that must be a future device. Let me just say it's the typical struggle of good against evil, on a galactic scale. Positive galaxies fighting negative in the form of giant, formless clouds of energy. Plagues of limitless mechanical devices fighting angelic non-technological people of great power similar to your own. The struggle is endless and as vast as the universe itself. You are in a rather protected, sheltered area of the galaxy and will probably never be involved in these struggles. Just warn your people to stay away from any area with a nebula, black hole, or quasar."
     "I believe we've explored a few of them already," Mark said thoughtfully.
     "That's fine, as long as you keep it on your level of consciousness --- I mean in your physical dimension. But never cross into another dimension while in one of those areas."
     "We can't do that anyway."
     "You will soon," he smiled and motioned towards the area where he arrived. "Shall we leave now?"
     "It's not that simple," Barbet said, turning and looking inside the house. "We have children and responsibilities."
     "I believe your son Marcus can run things while you are gone, and the majestic Lady Chastity would be happy to watch your children for you."
     "Can you read minds too?" Chastity asked, somewhat angrily.
     "The consciousness is not a parlor trick, it is an informational resource. It is common knowledge that you wished for more children, but refused to mother another child without your late husband."
     "Oh, it is, is it?" she huffed with her hands on her hips. She finally relaxed and smiled. "I guess it's true, but that's nobodys business but my own."
     "Don't worry, you are well thought-of and respected in the consciousness."
     "Thank you," she curtsied. "Ok, kids, he's right. I will of course watch the children while you're gone. We will have fun," she reached out and clamped a hand on Barbet's shoulder to emphasize her point.
     Barbet looked up with a thankful smile, then resolutely turned and called the kids. She hugged each in turn and sent them to their father. Furen hugged Contra and Chastity, then solemnly shook Marcus' hand.
     "Take care of things," he said quietly. "Jerry will make sure things run smoothly."
     "Oh no I won't, I'm going too," Jerry said stubbornly. "And I'm going armed to the teeth." Jerry turned without another word and went inside to arm himself from Furen's supply of weapons.
     "I guess Rodney will see that things run smoothly. That old soldier will take good care of the warehouse," Furen said with a squeeze of Marcus' hand, then let go reluctantly.
     "Contra and Chastity are growing stronger," Marcus said quietly. "If I can't handle something, the three of us can."
     "Good, they need the practice."
     "I know," Marcus said sadly, then turned away.
     "He was hoping to go too. He craves adventure," Barbet said silently. Furen nodded, but said nothing. He did not want Marcus put in peril and he had a bad feeling about the task ahead. There were too many inconsistencies, although he could not think of anything specific at the moment. He was still bothered by what the alien had told him.
     When everything was ready they approached the alien. He tapped the staff on the ground three times and the golden blob engulfed them. They looked around in interest and saw the far wall of the blob extending and reforming into another blob. The alien motioned for them to follow him to the second blob. They stepped through the narrow portal to the second blob. It shimmered and dissipated. They found themselves standing on another world.
     It took a while for their eyes to get used to the alien landscape and yellow sky. There was no blue sky in sight, only a yellow and white haze. The sun was below the horizon. It was either sunset, or the sun never fully rose on this planet. The landscape was covered with buildings. They saw no greenery, only buildings. The most impressive looked like tall, jagged crystals towering far into the sky. There were several tall towers with disks positioned a third of the way down from the point. Skyways seemed to tie every building to the next, making an intricate system of overhead metal spider webs. Flyers of all shapes and sizes cluttered the sky from one horizon to the other. What appeared to be futuristic freight trains, crawled along beneath a system of single rails, suspended from tall pillars. They were standing next to one of these pillars. Furen moved closer and touched it. It was made of a cold, black substance which was neither cement, rock, or metal. He could feel the vibration of the city through the pillar.
     Barbet sniffed the air. It seemed to be clean and fresh. Jerry simply looked around suspiciously with a hand on his enforcer.
     "The air smells good," Barbet said in surprise. "How do you keep it so clean without trees?"
     "We have agricultural planets in our system, but here we clean the air here with filter plants. At times we are forced to bring in a fresh supply of oxygen. The purification plants are taxed by the hydrocarbons released by the wall of fire," he pointed at the sky. "I'm afraid they will fail soon."
     "Where is the wall of fire?" Mark asked.
     "Up there. The pollution caused by the wall of fire obscures the sky at night, but lights the haze."
     "It's night time?" Furen asked in surprise.
     "Yes, but it never grows completely dark. Besides the lights of the city, the wall of fire lights our skies."
     "How close is it?"
     "About one light-year away. Slightly less."
     "It must be bright."
     "It is. It would encompass several hundred of your solar systems."
     "And you want us to dismantle it?" Barbet asked in surprise.
     "The stars which generate the wall of fire are co-dependent. If you move one, the neighboring star will be moved out of alignment as well. That, in turn, will move the next, and the next. They are tied together by their own gravity."
     "So the wall of fire is made of stars?" Furen asked.
     "No, the stars are positioned behind the wall of fire. The energy from the stars is directed outward in one direction and focused, creating the wall of fire."
     "It would take a million stars," Mark said breathlessly.
     "Very astute. We estimate 75 million stars, but that's only an estimate. We are not allowed inside to actually count them, of course. Now, let me show you to your quarters. You can rest and we will talk again later. A banquet has been planned in your honor."
    
     They approached the wall of fire in a very normal, medium class space ship. They were thankful for the small piece of normalcy in a world of miracles. Although the ship looked normal, the drive and instruments were as far beyond those on Savannah as a FTL cruiser was above a horse and buggy. Terrio, the elderly gentleman who had recruited them, gave them a brief tour of the spaceport, then accustomed them to the controls. He was overjoyed to find that Furen had a perfect memory, and immediately speeded up the tour once he discovered this. Furen found, to his satisfaction, that Terrio was soon talking exclusively to him. By unanimous decision, Furen was made Captain of the ship. Since the Captain had absolute control over the ship through touch-sensors, there was little for the others to do but sit and watch. They could see little for the first hour while traveling faster than light, but as they slowed to survey the wall of fire, they saw an awesome sight which caused several sleepless nights for most of them.
     The wall of fire was literally a wall. It seemed that the fire shot outward until it came up against an invisible barrier then curled back upon itself. The blinding yellow, orange, and red flames mixed with dark clouds of black carbon.
     "Looks like hell," Jerry said quietly.
     "It's bad all right," Mark nodded.
     "No I mean it REALLY looks like hell. You know, the bad place you go in the afterlife?"
     "Oh, yeah. I wonder what kind of people live on the%wther side of that mess?"
     "We can stick around and find out, once you guys breach the wall," Jerry said with a frown, then shifted uncomfortably on his chair.
     "What's up, Jerry? I can feel your doubts," Furen said distantly as he moved his hands slightly on the sensors and the ship shifted positions.
     "I don't know, I guess I just don't believe that Darrio guy."
     "Terrio," Furen said absently.
     "Wait," Barbet said silently. They all stiffened except for Jerry, who could not communicate mentally.
     Little flashes of flame flared up around the small bridge of the ship, then one final blaze of electricity flared up under a large panel next to Furen.
     "There, we can talk now," Barbet said, waving a hand past her nose to clear the smoke.
     "We were being monitored?" Jerry asked in outrage.
     "Liberally. There was even one in the bathroom. That large panel was the sending unit, so we should be safe now."
     "I knew we couldn't trust the guy," Jerry growled and fingered his enforcer.
     "Not necessarily, we might have done the same thing. After all, if we went to so much bother we would certainly want to keep track of our investment," Mark said practically.
     "Uh uh," Jerry shook his head. "Think back over all he told us. There are four main reasons why I don't believe him. First he said they made a wall of fire to hide behind. Why didn't they make it around the cause of the problem and trap these Plazepelians inside, rather than restricting their own access to the rest of the universe? Secondly, he said their spies told them about the new weapon being developed. If you can't pass through the wall of fire, how did the spies get inside? Third, he said there is an entire race of angelic people with your power. If there are so many, why didn't he recruit one of them, they're closer?"
     Furen took his hands off the sensors and thought over what Jerry had said.
     "You said there were four reasons, what's the forth, the bugs he planted on the ship?"
     "No, he made me look foolish in front of the women. A gentleman wouldn't have done that."
     "A gentleman wouldn't have charged him like a bull," Barbet said with a childish giggle.
     "I never said I was a gentleman, but that Ferrio guy pretends to be one."
     "Terrio," Mark corrected with a smile. Jerry never seemed to have trouble with names unless he disliked someone.
     "I think I agree with Jerry," Barbet said thoughtfully. "Let's hold off until we learn more."
     Furen frowned in thought. The lights went off unexpectedly.
     "Furen, what's wrong?" Barbet's voice quivered in the darkness. Without the viewscreen showing the wall of fire, there was not one spec of light in the cabin.
     "We have lost power. I have a feeling it's not an accident. We don't even have a power supply to send with."
     "You can't teleport?" Jerry demanded in the darkness.
     "Not without power."
     A bright light suddenly appeared on the bridge. They all relaxed until they realized that it came from the enforcer in Jerry's hand. He widened the beam until it lit the entire bridge, but not as brightly.
     "I'll get you power," he said as he rolled up his sleeves. He took a small laser from his pocket and began cutting on the main panel. In a moment his head disappeared inside.
     "Furen, how close were we to the wall of fire?" Barbet asked nervously.
     "At least a million miles."
     "Then why is it getting hotter in here?"
     "The gravity from all those stars is probably pulling us in at a million miles per hour," Mark said quietly, then swallowed as he averted his face. Furen could feel his fear, just as Mark would have been able to feel the fear mounting in Furen.
     "Don't fret, I'll have us back on line in no time," Jerry's voice echoed from the panel.
     "Jerry," Barbet said thoughtfully. "JERRY?"
     "What... ow," he yelled after a loud bang.
     "Jerry, try that panel," she pointed at the one which had recently exploded.
     "Why that one? This is the main panel."
     "Because it feels like that one," she insisted stubbornly. "That was his control over the ship and it's listening devices. Try that one."
     "Barbet, you really don't understand how things..."
     "Try it!" Furen commanded from his chair in the center of the bridge. Jerry looked at Furen in surprise, then nodded.
     "Aye, Captain," he climbed reluctantly to his feet and cut the other panel cover off the wall. "Well I'll be damned, a black box. I haven't heard of one of these being used since the late 21st century," he cut a large metal box off the bulkhead and held it up for their examination.
     "It's not black," Barbet observed.
     "No, it's an ancient computer, of sorts. It works off a fine spool of magnetized wire. It can record data, but it can also be programmed to perform tasks. It's resistant to heat, fire, or electricity. This thing keeps on ticking even if the rest of the ship is destroyed."
     "Then you can get the ship running again, quickly?" Mark asked nervously.
     "I imagine. All I have to do is reconnect the wires which were attached to the black box, and everything should run again."
     "Then do it quickly, Jerry, it's starting to get hot in here," Furen said urgently.
     "Yeah, it is, kind'a, isn't it?" he said with a smile and aimed the small laser at the hanging wires. In a moment the lights flickered on.
     "Don't get your hopes up, that's just the first connection," he said absently as he continued to work.
     The viewscreen came on next and Barbet smothered a scream as she pointed at the fiery scene before them.
     "Jerry, we're almost at the wall. Please hurry," Furen said, sitting on the edge of his seat.
     "Hang on, I can only make one connection and a time and God only knows which ones they are."
     "We can ask him personally, if you don't hurry," Mark said.
     "I'll do the large black wire next, it may be the power," Jerry mumbled. "Damned, I need more wire."
     "Can't you salvage one of the other ones?" Furen tried to keep the hysteria out of his voice.
     "No, I don't know what they do. The one I cut may be the one we need. Somebody get me some wire," he pulled his head out and looked at Mark.
     "How?" Mark asked helplessly.
     "Go to another cabin, take the enforcer, and cut the wall open. Whatever you find, yank out. We need it here, not there."
     Mark grabbed the enforcer and ran out. They heard the enforcer cutting metal a moment later. Jerry was busy attaching other wires while he was gone. In a moment Mark returned with a handful of wires and thrust them at Jerry's back. Jerry absently reached behind his back and took them.
     Furen and Barbet exchanged surprised looks. Jerry dropped all but the thickest wire and had it attached in moments. The glowing orange sensor pads lit up under Furen's hands. He joyfully threw his palms down on the sensors and turned the ship. They believed they could actually smell the smoke from the wall of fire, but of course Jerry's welding had caused this illusion.
     "He tried to kill us," Barbet accused gently.
     "Yes, he did," Jerry held the black box aloft, then tossed it in a corner. "And he wanted to make it look like we made our own modifications, with our own technology, and that's what killed us. It's the only explanation for using such an antiquated device from old Earth. He could have used more impressive and reliable devices otherwise."
     "Let's go through the wall of fire," Mark said excitedly. "Let's face this so-called enemy and see who they are."
     "Face the denizens of hell?" Furen asked as he eyed the wall of fire. "Sure, why not. We won't get fair treatment on Plazepel, so let's try their enemy."
     "Yes, especially since Terrio knows where we live," Barbet said breathlessly. Her wild, childish eyes flashed around the bridge, then rested on her husband. "Furen, he knows where we live. The children!"
     "The children should be safe, as long as we're alive. He knows what we'd do to him if he harmed them."
     "But how will he know we're alive?" Barbet asked fearfully.
     "I'll take care of that," Mark said with a twisted smile. He went over to the corner and picked up the black box. He held it aloft for a moment and it disappeared.
     "He knows," Mark nodded with a smile. "Now I suggest we get the heck out of here before that golden bubble shows up full of ancient Earth explosives."
     Furen turned the little ship to face the wall of fire. He drew on the ship's generators to teleport them two million miles past the wall. They came out just behind the wall of stars.
     "Oh, how beautiful," Barbet sighed.
     "It looks like a million jewels," Jerry said, obviously impressed. The continuous wall of glittering stars completely surrounded them, from the brightest nearby, to the dimmest at the far wall. They were not evenly spaced, because the largest stars generated more gravity which needed more room than a smaller star. The wall of fire was invisible from inside, as were the background stars of neighboring galaxies. They had completely closed themselves off from the rest of the universe.
     "Wow, look at that," Mark called excitedly. They looked toward the central area and saw the planets. Not ten planets, as Terrio had indicated, but hundreds, circling and glittering at the exact center of the space.
     "Uh oh, company's coming," Jerry moved closer to the screen and pointed at dozens of small brilliant dots separating from the planets.
     "Barbet, you speak to them," Furen said, surprising them all.
     "What? Me?"
     "Yes, you. I think a woman would be less intimidating than a man. You should make first contact."
     "I doubt that you'd intimidate anyone... ok, ok," Mark held his hands in front of his face to turn away Furen's angry glare.
     "We have a little time to prepare a speech... never mind," Jerry suddenly said and pointed at the ship's hovering just a few miles from their own. "They're here."
     The ships were all identical, they consisted of a ball on the front, a stem behind it, and a large engine pod at the rear. The balls had small bat-like wings extending from each side and they appeared to be bristling with weapons.
     Three tiny ships detached from the larger ones and approached rapidly. In moments the tiny ships made contact with a decisive clang.
     "Well if those are shuttles, we are about to make contact. If they're missiles," Jerry paused significantly, "we can kiss our retirements goodbye."
     "They're shuttles," Furen said with a glassy-eyed stare. Jerry looked around and found that despite the presence of the other three, he was mentally alone. The others were mentally touring the visiting shuttles.
     "I'll get it," Barbet said and rushed toward the rear of the ship.
     "Hey, wait for me," Jerry demanded, snatching up the enforcer from where it laid on a console.
     "Leave it, Jerry. You won't need that," Furen said sternly.
     Jerry gave Furen a desperate look, then reluctantly placed the enforcer on the console, as if it took a great effort to make his hand work. He finally dropped it with a groan.
     "I hope you're right," he said resentfully.
     "Just wait," Furen smiled and turned toward the rear of the cabin. Barbet returned with a seven foot tall blonde woman following. Despite her size, the woman strolled into the control room with all the majesty of Lady Chastity herself. She stopped and surveyed the crew. Furen got the impression from her facial movements that she was not very impressed with what she saw.
     The woman's eyes quickly ran around the control room, taking in the burned panel first, then running over every inch of each of the crew. They rested on Jerry the longest, quickly cataloging each weapon where it was hidden on his body. A frown of disapproval darkened her glance as she looked him in the eyes.
     Jerry blushed, then shrugged helplessly. She quickly turned to Furen and bowed.
     "You wish a discourse?"
     "Huh?"
     "Why have you entered our domain?"
     "Terrio of Plazepel attempted to recruit us to attack you. We believe his accusations are false."
     "You would have attacked us?" a slight smile curled her lips.
     "Yes," Furen said simply with a stern nod.
     Her smile faltered and she looked at the crew again, then gazed at Furen thoughtfully. Barbet began to fidget and Furen realized she was growing jealous. He almost smiled as he realized this. The look in his eyes must have changed, because the blonde suddenly did smile.
     "Good, I like honesty, although I believe an attack would have been futile. Never-the-less, follow me back to Amparis and we will discuss this with the king. We have not had visitors for centuries."
     "I can believe that," Jerry mumbled as he took up the enforcer, slid it into his pocket, then leaned an elbow against the console. He calmly faced her stern, reproving, gaze until she looked away.
     The woman stayed with them as they landed. The small shuttles departed from the ship just as they entered the atmosphere and followed them to the surface. A golden platform appeared out of a park-like grassy area and they landed gently while the shuttles hovered above them.
     "They don't trust us?" Mark pointed at the ceiling questioningly.
     "It's their duty to protect the royal family," the tall blonde said with a shrug. "You grow used to them after a while," she added, but her words convinced no one. She obviously disliked their presence.
     A large crowd gathered outside the ship before they could make their way to the exit.
     "Father," the blonde pointed at the screen.
     "Which one?" Barbet looked at the crowd.
     "The one in the center. The king."
     "You are a princess?" Mark asked excitedly.
     "One of many. I have seventeen older sisters and seven brothers," she said simply and turned toward the door.
     "Does that make you a lesser princes or something?" Mark asked as he hurried to walk by her side.
     "Yes," she said in an unemotional voice. Barbet punched Mark painfully in the back. He turned and scowled. Barbet placed a finger over her lips. Mark should have felt what they felt, her age, size, and position were a cause of great pain for her. She considered herself as low as a commoner. She was the shortest member of her family, which caused friction with her siblings, and one of the youngest.
     "You were sent to meet us because you were expendable," Jerry suddenly realized the truth.
     "Nobody from the royal family is actually expendable," she chastised, "but you are close to the truth."
     "I think you're nice," Mark persisted. The blonde stopped and looked at Mark in surprise, then a glowing smile lit her face.
     "Thank you," she said and continued leading them to the airlock. The noise outside was deafening. The roar of the crowd, recorded music, and wind rushing through the trees accounted for most of it.
     Once the princess appeared at the airlock, the hovering ships turned and sped off, taking some of the noise with them.
     "Welcome!" a loud voice boomed from everywhere. They looked around in confusion and saw a wide, jolly face approaching from the center of the crowd. The man was heavy, had a short beard and dancing eyes that smiled first at his daughter, then at the visitors.
     "He looks like Father Christmas," Jerry whispered from the side of his mouth.
     "Welcome, friends," the jolly face said, although the voice came from everywhere. They realized that his voice was amplified so the entire crowd could hear it. "Your ship had us frightened for a moment, but you are obviously not Plazepelians."
     "No, we are from Savannah," Furen said, startled to hear his own voice amplified from the trees around them. He stepped forward and took the king's extended hand, shaking the huge paw vigorously.
     "Look at that, Father Christmas and his elf," Jerry said to Mark with a snort. He was startled to hear his own voice echo from the trees. The crowd stilled instantly and turned to look at Jerry in shock. Jerry turned red and gulped nervously.
     "Who is father Christmas?" the king asked sternly.
     "Were your ancestors the Christians or the Muslims?" Furen asked.
     "Christians, primarily," the king said without taking his eyes off Jerry.
     "Do you still celebrate Christmas?"
     "Yes, it's a lesser holiday," the king acceded.
     "To us it's a major holiday. Father Christmas is a large jolly man in a red suit who performs magic and distributes presents to children on Christmas Eve. He spreads good feelings and joy," Furen said lamely. He was not an expert, of course, since Christmas was not a Reglasian holiday.
     "And what is an elf?"
     "A tiny race of people no bigger than a child, who assist Father Christmas," Furen said with a hint of anger as he glared at Jerry.
     "Then I must be the big jolly man who spreads joy," the king roared with laughter and reached down to slap Furen on the back. Furen took several steps to keep his balance, then blinked up at the king in surprise.
     "They mean us no harm, father," the princess said quietly, keeping her mouth close to his ear. "I like them."
     "Me too, darling daughter. Me too. Let's all go inside."
     They had another feast. The walls were lined with entertainment screens, a live orchestra played a strange sound resembling Hindu music from the far end of the hall, and a hundred excited voices echoed from the walls.
     "I'm getting a headache," Barbet said with a pained expression.
     "You're probably not used to the ceremony involved with a royal dinner," the princess leaned close and whispered. "Do you have royalty where you come from?"
     "On Raglasia, I guess we are the royalty," Barbet said with a sigh. "On Savannah, Mark is the royalty. His mother is a Lady and father was a Lord, or something."
     "Really?" the princess shot upright and looked Mark over carefully. Mark paused as he was trying to get a squer of food into his mouth without poking himself in the face with it. A squer was a long handled fork with three-inch, razor-sharp tines that could be used for poking, mincing, or cutting. It was very dangerous.
     "What?" Mark asked defensively.
     "You have something on your mouth," Furen lied smoothly. Mark dropped his squer and rubbed his face vigorously.
     "Did I get it?" he asked, his embarrassed glance going to the princess. "No, it's right here," she pointed at her own, lovely mouth. He rubbed again vigorously. Barbet poked Furen in the ribs. The princess finally nodded.
     Mark picked up his squer and continued to eat.
     "Is he attached?" the princess whispered to Barbet.
     "You mean married? A mate?"
     "Yes."
     "No, he's single."
     "And very rich," Furen prompted. Barbet let out a loud, childish giggle that stopped half the squers at the table while startled glances fell on her. Barbet shrank down in her seat, trying to make herself smaller than she already was.
     The princess put a fond arm around Barbet's shoulders and glared at the guests until they returned to their food.
     "Don't worry about them, most of them are just here to live off the royal family. The other's are advisors and dignitaries from around the system. I don't think half of them ever worked a day in their lives."
     "Do you work?" Furen asked tactlessly.
     "I'm a ship's captain, at the moment. After that I will probably be forced to govern a lesser planet."
     "A lesser planet?" Barbet asked. "Is there such a thing?"
     "My brother down at the far end of the table, Famair? He rules Tepedad, an agricultural planet with a total of 120 families living on it. He is two years younger than I am."
     "That's pretty small," Furen nodded as he attempted to get his own squer into his mouth without drawing blood.
     "Yes it is, but Tepedad has an agricultural moon that currently needs a governor. It holds 20 families," she said solemnly.
     "Oh no, your father loves you," Barbet said sympathetically. "He wouldn't do that would he?"
     "I've heard rumors that the plans have already been made," she said with a gusty sigh.
     The private interview immediately followed the official dinner. At Mark's insistence, the princess was included in the meeting.
     "The Princess Artine," the page announced at the door. Mark took special note of the name and repeated it silently several times as he entered the private chambers of the king. Furen watched his lips moving as he repeated the name and nudged Barbet, then nodded at Mark.
     "I think Lady Chastity can expect a new addition to the family," Barbet said coyly.
     "What in the world," the king shot to his feet and looked around.
     "Who said that?" he demanded mentally.
     "We did," Furen admitted, not sure what he'd done.
     "Telepaths?" Princess Artine asked in surprise.
     "Yes, and you?" Barbet asked in greater surprise.
     "All the royal family," she nodded excitedly. Her glance turned to Mark. "What about him?" she asked silently.
     "Him can hear just fine," Mark said as he stubbornly extended his lip in a boyish pout. "I do have a name, you know."
     "All of you?" the king looked around in surprise.
     "Not Jerry, but he does have special talents which make up for it," Furen said with a smile.
     "What's going on?" Jerry demanded, having been left out of the mental conversation.
     "I'll explain later," Furen hushed him.
     "Do you all have royal blood?" the king demanded.
     "They do father, we were discussing that at dinner. I didn't have time to tell you."
     "Wonderful, just wonderful," he beamed as he looked over his guests in a new light. His glance suddenly fell on Mark and they could see the look of astonishment cross his face as he looked first at Mark, then at Princess Artine. Come over here, young man and sit down," the king pointed at the chair next to his. Mark felt like a fly in a web, but he took the indicated seat and moved around uncomfortably until Barbet scowled at him. Princess Artine sat in the next chair and Mark quickly settled down. He stole covert glances at Princess Artine whenever she was engaged in conversation with Barbet, but she noticed the glances.
     Furen explained how they came to be there. At first the king was amused, then alarmed, then angry.
     "They dare to attack us?" he demanded. His face was pulsing red.
     "They tried," Furen admitted. "I believe we were the only ones who believed him, at first. Then we realized he was lying and he tried to kill us. Jerry pulled us out of that mess."
     "Really?" the king looked at Jerry in surprise. Jerry was sitting in the farthest chair, looking very much alone and board.
     "Terrio spoke of an angelic race of people with our powers. I take it he could not enlist their aid. We may have been his last hope."
     "And what power might that be?" he asked.
     "Mark's people call it teleportation. We call it sending. I am The First Sender on my planet."
     "Our ancestors had such abilities, but I'm afraid our family lost it many centuries ago."
     "Maybe you simply need to practice," Furen said. "I could detect the power and develop it if it still exists in your family."
     "It might come in useful. Did he really expect you to move stars?"
     "He said his technology could give us all the assistance we needed."
     "Their technology is behind even our own. I know of no such power."
     "He brought us here with a staff, a staff with a golden head. It created a golden blob and we stepped from my planet directly to his. I suppose that was a form of teleportation. Maybe he was going to use that to assist us."
     "Never!" the king shouted and jumped to his feet.
     "Pardon," Furen began to grow angry, "I assure you it's true."
     "I'm not speaking of that, I talking of a myth regarding the staff. We were told it would NEVER be found. Now he's apparently found it and plans to use our own artifact against us."
     "It was yours?"
     "We unearthed it shortly after arriving here on Amparis. When we found that it could move mountains and compel others to do things against their will, a council was formed to control the staff. Even that was not enough, the council itself misused the power of the staff, so one of my ancestors decided to destroy the staff. He found it was indestructible. Instead he hid the staff where it could never be found. Now our enemies have found it and nobody in the universe is safe from it's power."
     "So it's not just a teleportation device?"
     "The staff in the hands of my ancestors moved the stars into place to form the wall of fire," he said solemnly and lowered his face to his hands.
     "And he wanted a powerful mind so the staff could move them back again," Furen said.
     "Knowing the Plazepelians, they'll find one, eventually. One who is more gullible than you were.
     "I hope not," Furen said with a frown. "If he moves them it will be impossible for us to put them back. The wall will be breached forever, unless you have some technology that can help."
     "No, we have nothing," the king said with a defeated laugh.
     "SIRE!" the page ran into the room and pointed at a ship's captain standing in the doorway. "Grave news, sire. Captain Decroy wish to speak to you privately."
     "Speak," the king said crossly.
     "Sire, alone please."
     "Speak," the king roared and the man looked around uncomfortably, then stood erect.
     "Sire, the wall has been breached. I believe your visitors have betrayed you."
     "What?" Furen roared and jumped to his feet.
     "Nonsense," the king said with a wave of his hand. "If the wall has been breached, they had nothing to do with it. They have been under our observation since they entered our domain. Think before you speak, man."
     "Sorry, sire. The wall has been breached."
     "I heard you the first time. How large is the breach?"
     "Three stars have been moved out of alignment, dozens more will follow in a matter of minutes. There is a hole approximately one thousand miles wide and rapidly increasing."
     "Prepare the fleet for invasion," the king said listlessly. "Daughter, you had better join your ship."
     "Yes father."
     "I would like to accompany her," Mark said, standing quickly.
     "We all should," Furen said with a nod. "We have powers that could sway the outcome of the battle."
     "The battle is the least of my worries," the king said in defeat.
     "Another problem?" Furen asked, stopping at the door.
     "Where do you suppose all those stars will go, once they are yanked out of alignment?" the king asked with a tired smile.
     "I don't know."
     "Neither do we, but I'll bet one will land right here in our laps, and there's not a thing we can do about it."
     "Then I have no choice," Furen said quietly.
     "Go home while you can," the king waved him out.
     "No, I have to get my hands on that staff."
     "If that's possible, we may just live through this," the king sat up suddenly. "Tell Artine that she's at your disposal, from this moment on," the king said. "And be careful of Terrio, he is called the deceiver by his own people."
     Furen nodded and ran out.
     Mark quickly modified a deflector shield for their use as a place of power, while the battle cruiser hurtled towards the battle. He had made the same modifications the small ship they had previously used, so they knew the power would be woefully inadequate. A planetary place of power was strong and reliable. By comparison, modifications to a ship were weak and the power fluctuated, making it hard to control.
     The first three hours were spent repelling squadrons of ships, and hundreds of energy missiles. The Trazepelians were heavily outnumbered. Even with the help of Mark, Furen, and Barbet, they were losing the battle and ships, at an alarming rate. They were growing tired, desperate, and getting no closer to the staff. They saw their chance when the enemy suddenly turned and fled back through the widening hole.
     "Let's get to Plazepel," Furen yelled, then fell back in his chair totally exhausted. He reached over and took Barbet's listless hand, squeezing it gently. She squeezed back without opening her eyes.
     "Captain!" somebody shouted. Furen looked up at the viewscreen and saw meteors hurtling through the opening at frightening speeds. He counted as seven passed through the opening, and sighed in defeat. His tired glance went to Princess Artine.
     "Your call," she said quietly.
     "We can't win without the staff," Furen said painfully. "Take us to Plazepel."
     Princess Artine shouted the appropriate orders. Furen's eyes were riveted to the screen tracking the meteors. In a matter of moments the meteors began blossoming into fireballs.
     "Father may repel them with planetary defenses," the princess said quietly, noticing his glance. "Don't feel guilty, Furen."
     "I hope he survives. I like him," Furen said, then closed his eyes to rest until they arrived at Plazepel. For some strange reason he believed he could smell the canner working nearby. He smelled his favorite, strawberry jam. A smile formed on his sleeping lips, and a sympathetic smile formed on Barbet's.
     "They even dream together," Princess Artine said with a gentle smile, then glanced at Mark. "It must be wonderful to be so close to somebody."
    
     Marcus sat in the dark room, frightened and lonely. The bodiless voice disappeared shortly after it ordered him to move the meteors on the viewscreen. He wanted to go home. He didn't like the voice, and he had no way of finding his parents while he was trapped in the little room.
     The tall alien man had returned, shortly after he left with his parents, Mark, and Jerry. He sadly informed Marcus that his parents and friends had been captured by the enemy. He needed Marcus to assist him in returning them. Marcus quickly agreed, as eager to free his parents, as he was to see action. But he'd seen little. The alien transported him to a dark room with a restraining field around it. Marcus could not teleport out, or teleport anything in. A screen lit up and the bodiless voice of the alien came from the walls, ordering Marcus to draw on the power of the staff to scatter the star he saw on the screen. Marcus tried, skeptically at first, and found he could do so easily. Then the screen went blank and the voice disappeared. Several hours later the voice demanded that he move meteors from several different areas in the galaxy, to a point near where he moved the stars. He insisted that they keep their initial momentum, so Marus simply plucked them from one area and dropped them in another. When he asked about his freedom, and his parents, the voice was gone.
     Marcus felt around until he found the food packets left on a table near his padded chair. He broke open the first and smelled it's contents. It was horrible. He tossed it away in disgust and opened another. To his delight, it smelled strongly of strawberries. He ate half the contents of the package, and it filled his stomach immediately. He laid the package aside and found the beaker of water. With his hunger satisfied, he laid his head against the arm of the chair and fell asleep with the wonderful aroma of strawberries coming from the open package and filling his dreams.
    
     Furen shot upright in his chair. The sudden movement drew the attention of everyone on the bridge. Princess Artine moved close and stared into Furen's vacant, unblinking eyes.
     "Furen?"
     "Marcus," Furen said in a faraway voice. "He's here."
     "Where?"
     "I don't know. He doesn't know. Somewhere on Plazepel, I think."
     "Marcus is his son," Jerry said from his chair at the back of the bridge. They could see his nervousness as he fingered his weapons helplessly.
     "Is he in danger?" Princess Artine asked, afraid of the answer.
     "Yes," Furen said in the stone-cold unemotional voice associated with distant mental contact with another person.
     "He is being forced to use the staff," Barbet said unexpectedly. They had thought she was still asleep.
     "Darkness," Furen said. "Nothing to orient on. There is a field around him."
     "Let's all pull together and try to yank him out of there," Mark said in the same unemotional voice. There was silence on the bridge as the three faces suddenly showed the strain of their effort. In a moment they relaxed and blinked, gazing at their surroundings.
     "The field is too strong," Furen said in his normal voice.
     "What can we do?" Princess Artine asked. "If we try to take back the staff or free your son, he may hurt him. He obviously planned it that way."
     "Our..." Furen stopped and swallowed several times before he could continue. "Our son is not the main issue here. Our top priority is to remove the power of the staff from Terrio's hands. If we can save our son, all the better."
     Princess Artine's eyes widened as she stared from Furen, to Barbet. Barbet slowly nodded in agreement, although her eyes were filled with pain.
     "I don't agree," Jerry jumped to his feet and came up to stand between Furen and Barbet. "I don't share your Reglasian mentality. First we save Marcus, then we get the staff."
     "At the expense of millions of lives?" Furen asked in a kindly voice.
     "I don't know those millions of people, I didn't raise them from a baby that would fit in a shoe box, to young manhood. I know Marcus and I won't let you sacrifice his life to maintain your personal code of sacrifice and revenge."
     "Wait!" Mark shouted, trying to get everyone's attention. When he succeeded he went on in a normal voice.
     "Jerry's right here. You always go on about never letting anyone get away with hurting your family, or the next person to come along will do it again. So let's get Marcus and the staff. We can do both at the same time... I think."
     "How," Furen was more than willing to listen to any alternatives. He didn't have the slightest idea of what to do.
     "Well first we need more power. Let's channel every bit of ship's power into our sending field."
     "Nope, can't be done," Princess Artine shook her pretty head, sending hair flying and covering her face. She brushed it aside and looked at Mark apologetically.
     "A ship's power is carefully balanced and rationed. There is very little excess that can be diverted. The ship uses matter and anti-matter engines. The matter consists of uriphosphate, among other things. It's a highly radioactive material suspended in a liquid to maintain peek radioactivity. It's contained by a magnetic bottle, inside a lead tank. The lead tank is shielded by another magnetic field. This is the only thing that keeps us from dying of radiation burns in a matter of minutes. Any power shortage usually results in a spectacular explosion.
     The anti-matter portion of the fuel is not radioactive. But if the magnetic bottle which contains it fails, it also results in a very spectacular explosion. Then you need life support. Without power we have a reserve supply of oxygen that can last for approximately 36 minutes. There are several other components where power is vital. No, Mark, more power is not an option."
     "Then we need a natural field, a large planet. The larger the better," he studied the viewscreen and saw a great deal of nothingness.
     "Most planets were moved into orbit around one of our primaries," Princess Artine shrugged with an apologetic smile.
     "What about Desolation?" a young female officer asked timidly.
     "Desolation is a radioactive ball of molten rock," Princess Artine chastised gently.
     "Where is it?" Furen asked in sudden interest.
     "It's nearby, but I doubt if you could use it. Only a heavily shielded ship could land on it, and none have tried."
     "Any planet with a magnetic field, may work. How long could we survive on it's surface?"
     "Not at all, without a great deal of preparation. The planet is molten because of it's high levels of radioactivity. It's death to get anywhere near it in a normal ship, or spacesuit."
     "Our shuttle is heavily shielded," the female officer interrupted again. "It was made exceptionally strong to protect the princess."
     "Strong enough?" Furen asked, looking at the princess.
     "Possibly. How long would you need to stay on the surface?"
     "I don't know."
     "Princess," Mark called to get her attention. "We will need your help. While we find an exceptionally strong place of power on the planet, we need you to create a distraction big enough to force him to use the staff again. You may be in a great deal of danger."
     "Goes with the job," she shrugged it off, but the officers on the bridge seemed to take a different view. There were many anxious, unfriendly glances.
     "Can you take us to Desolation?" Furen asked. "We can't plan anything here, we need to see it."
     "Take us to Desolation, Con," she called, then turned back.
     "We can make a few adjustments to the shuttle before we get there, but I still don't like this. It's extremely dangerous."
     "Goes with the territory," Mark said with a negligent shrug, and a sly smile.
     Princess Artine was not amused, she frowned and turned to Furen.
     "There are a few solid patches of rock on Desolation, hopefully we can find one stable enough for your use. Otherwise, your limit would be about 15 minutes."
     "We have to find a place of power, a place where the magnetic lines of force meet. I only hope one of them are on solid ground. I don't like the idea of sitting on molten rock."
     Knowing that Marcus was in trouble made the trip to Desolation seem endless. Furen fidgeted on his chair, or sat quietly holding Barbet's hand. At times they held a silent conversation that excluded even Mark. He didn't seem to notice, all his attention was on the tall, stately, captain of the ship.
     Princess Artine ignored him, focusing all her attention on the task ahead. But she was very aware of his attention, as were several jealous male members of the bridge crew who glowered in his direction.
     Jerry stalked from one end of the bridge to the other, getting in the way of the crew and growling like a trapped animal when anyone got in his way.
     Princess Artine approached the Senders, who were mentally speaking to Marcus. She placed one black booted foot on the platform beneath their chairs and leaned her forearms on her bent knee to wait until she gained their attention. When they blinked and looked up she pointed at the viewscreen.
     "Desolation," she said simply and watched their faces as they studied the ball of inhospitable rock. "I really don't think you can use it."
     "It's all we have," Furen said and frowned at the bubbling, seething surface on the screen. "Barbet, maybe I should go alone. You and Mark could stay here and add your power to mine."
     "No dear, we're both going," Barbet said with a sweet smile.
     "Me too," Mark said, suddenly aware of something besides Princess Artine. "You're not leaving me behind this time."
     "I'm going," Jerry said simply, then continued to stalk the bridge.
     "Mark, if you go with the princess, you could be the diversion we need. It would be dangerous, but it's necessary. We need to scare Terrio badly enough to force him to use the staff. Anything Princess Artine does alone, may only be met with planetary defenses. A sender may frighten him enough to draw on the power of the staff."
     "You are not leaving me behind," Mark said resolutely.
     "Are you afraid to stay behind?" Barbet asked sweetly. "We can't always be around to protect you, Mark, you must grow up sometime."
     "Grow... GROW..." Mark sputtered, unable to speak. Princess Artine looked at his red face and bulging eyes and laughed.
     "I think he's going to explode," she said, roaring with laughter.
     "I ain't cleaning up the mess if he does," Jerry said from the back of the bridge.
     "I think he's right," Furen said, taking advantage of Mark's anger. "He should go along where we can keep an eye on him. His mother would kill us if anything happened."
     "Ok," Barbet quickly agreed. "Come on Mark," she waved and they jumped down off their chairs.
     "I'm staying," Mark said in a surly mood. He knew he was being manipulated, but he could not take any more antagonism in front of the crew. "I'll stay and I'll fight. I can beat him without your help. You just concentrate on getting Marcus back safely."
     "We'll do our best," Barbet said thoughtfully, then turned and followed Jerry and her husband off the bridge. Princess Artine hurried to catch up. Mark took the seat vacated by Furen and glared at the crew until they returned to their duties.
    
     Jerry piloted the small shuttle while Furen and Barbet searched for the familiar tingle associated with a place of power. The battle cruiser had left long ago and they were getting desperate. They searched a hundred feet above the molten bed of rock. Several times they were forced to take the shuttle into space, to cool the outer hull, then returned to search again. The shielding was doing an admirable job of protecting them from the radioactivity, but nothing could fully protect them from the heat.
     "It would be ironic if Mark did defeat Terrio all by himself," Furen said as he took off his sweaty shirt and threw it across a console. Jerry had already removed his shirt, but he was still suffering from the extreme heat. His body was dripping with sweat. He licked his dry lips repeatedly, wishing they'd had the foresight to bring something to drink.
     Barbet turned her back and removed the unmentionables that Lady Chastity had helped her pick out during a shopping trip several months before. Even with the inner layer of clothing removed, the heat was intolerable. For the first time she contemplated failure. Thoughts of Marcus in the clutches of that deceitful man, in perpetual servitude, locked up in a strange, dark room, stiffened her resolve and she sent her mind outward, trying to ignore the stifling heat.
     "Furen, can you hear me?" Mark's faraway voice came to them both at once.
     "Stop, Jerry, Stop!" Barbet shouted, holding up her hand. She strained to listen, then Mark called again.
     "We can hear Mark," Furen explained. "We must be close to a place of power."
     "Go right... I mean starboard," Barbet pointed impatiently to the right with little jabs of her finger.
     "Slowly," Furen said, holding up a hand as he mentally felt the area around him. He suddenly felt himself grow and fill with the power. He blinked and looked down at the floor as if he were ten feet tall.
     "Stop," he said, savoring the power rushing through his body. He sent his mind outward to Marcus. "Son, can you hear me?"
     "Yeah, dad. Where are you?"
     "It doesn't matter. Have you been contacted by Terrio?"
     "No, not since last time. Are you going to get me out of here?"
     "Not yet, we need you to do something first, it's very important. He will contact you soon. I want you to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?"
     "Yeah, dad, I'm listening."
     Mark mentally gathered meteors and floating debris of all shapes and sizes, moving them close to the ship as they plummeted toward Plazepel. When the first planetary defenses began targeting the rocks around them, Princess Artine slowed the ship, allowing the rocks to plunge on ahead. Ships rose from the surface and they turned to meet them.
     Terrio hurried down the crystal steps to his private chambers. He removed the safeguards from the entrance and rushed inside to take up the staff. In a moment he faced a certain portion of the crystal wall and waved his hand over it's surface. A bright infrared image of the frightened boy appeared on the wall.
     "I have good news," he said in his kindliest voice. "We have found your parents and should be able to free them after this battle."
     "Why are you keeping me here?" Marcus raised blind eyes to the voice in the dark room.
     "For your own protection. There are some who do not appreciate your talents as I do. Once we win them over in this battle, you will be able to come out. Do you see the screen before you?" Terrio asked as he activated an image of the meteors and ship on the screen.
     "Yes."
     "The enemy are attacking us. I want you to gather up the meteors and ship and place them in the sun on the edge of the screen. Do you think you can do that?"
     "Sure," Marcus said, trying to control his excitement. "If you're going to help again. I can't do it alone."
     "Then begin, I'll lend my support."
     "Marcus strained against the meteors cluttering the screen. When he felt the power of the staff assisting him," he smiled slightly and sent a silent communication to his parents. Terrio watched the screen breathlessly as the meteors formed into a huge ball. He nearly fell as the staff suddenly disappeared. He looked at his empty hand in astonishment, then up at the screen. The dark room was empty. With a scream of rage he plummeted down the crystal stairs to search the underground chamber directly below the building. He lost his balance and fell headlong, tumbling and smashing against the wall down a hundred feet of sharp, crystal steps. His lifeless body slid through the opening to his crystal tower when the automatic doors opened to allow his passage.
    
     Jerry watched over his shoulder as Furen and Barbet mentally strained, and Marcus suddenly appeared before them. Furen immediately grabbed the staff from Marcus, then held it for a moment until it disappeared.
     "I've go it," Mark's distant call came immediately.
     Jerry placed his hands on the sensors and the ship swung up and around, entering space in seconds.
     Marcus endured the hugs and kiss of his parents. Normally he would have objected to such childish treatment, but after his experience in the underground chamber, he welcomed the loving contact. As the ship entered the hole in the wall of fire, Jerry allowed the ship to pilot long enough to add his own bear hug to Marcus's bruises.
     Several hours later Mark and Princess Artine joined them in the king's chambers. With all due ceremony, Mark handed the staff to the king. The king looked at it for a moment and passed it back.
     "Keep it," he said with a wave of his hand. "It's safer in the hands of you four than anywhere else. Besides, how can my daughter come home for a visit if she doesn't have the staff?"
     Princess Artine reached up and took the insignias from her lapels and handed them to the officer who had suggested they use Desolation. The officer calmly accepted the insignias, hefted them briefly, and smiled at the princess.
     "I turn command over to you," Princes Artine said formally
     "I accept command, Captain," she said and began pinning the insignias to her own lapels.
     "Good luck, Captain," Princess Artine said and quickly hugged the young woman.
     "Good luck to you too, princess, and your new husband."
     "Thank you."
     "The ship is waiting, your majesty," Mark said with a huge smile and an exaggerated bow. She frowned at him and waved at the bridge crew, then hurried off the bridge, still scowling.
     "Ok, what did I do to annoy you now?" Mark asked in exasperation.
     They took their seats and Furen placed his hands over the sensors to pull away from the battle cruiser.
     "If you're going to treat me like a princess, then do so. But don't mock me."
     "Then how do you want me to treat you..."
     Furen and Barbet exchanged a knowing smile as Furen turned the ship towards home.



Please go to The First Sender, Book 5