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Military Terminology Glossary

ADCAPs: ADditional CAPability. The second generation of the Mark-48 torpedo. It has better active sonar, and is faster than the original Mark-48 torpedo.

AEGIS: Advanced Electronic Guided Intercept System. The AEGIS fighting system is a combination of computers and a phased-array radar used to defend battle groups against air attacks from airplanes and missiles.

CAG: The commanding aviator onboard a carrier. This person is in charge of all of the aircraft on the carrier, and overseas all the aviators onboard. The acronym stands for “Commander, Air Group”, even though the navy now calls it an Air Wing.

CAP: Combat Air Patrol. This is a defensive measure. A group of aircraft fly in a pattern in the sky to protect either a particular object, or a particular area.

GUARD frequency: This is not an acronym. I do not know why it is usually fully capitalized. “GUARD” frequency is the emergency radio frequency.

LAMPS helos: The acronym means Light Airborne Multi-Purpose System. It is a suite of electronics that helps the helicopter navigate and function.

nucs: Anyone who works on a nuclear submarine.

ROE: Rules of Engagement. The rules that the military personnel have to follow concerning when they may shoot at an enemy.

RIO: Radar Intercept Officer. The person in the back seat of an F-14. Their job is to handle all of the electronic equipment used for tracking and intercepting enemy aircraft.

SLAM: Standoff Land-Attack Missile. A missile that has both Land and Sea strike capability, and a range of over 200 nautical miles.

Chapter 25

Chain of Command

The flight across the Atlantic had been turbulent and unsettling. Ron and his family were now in Sweden, after a very long flight with lousy food and a boring movie. It had been three days since the death of Mike McGavin and the Committee. Ron had gotten very little sleep in that time. That, as much as anything else, explained why it happened.

They had not been met, so Lars led them to the home of the SkuggDrakarna, the ancient psionics guild of Europe. Lars spoke briefly to the guards, and the group was admitted into the Great Hall of the Dragon’s Heart, the leading body of the SkuggDrakarna. There, they waited. For two hours, they waited for the Dragon’s Heart to arrive.

Finally, the council entered the Great Hall and was seated. Dressed in blood red robes, they kept the hoods up to cover their faces. The head of the council wore a breastplate over his robe, made of what looked like silver. It had two dragons intertwined on it, one dragon bright and shiny, while the other dragon was a subdued color. The dragons appeared to be fighting.

Ron’s train of thought about the breastplate was interrupted when the leader spoke.

“Nå, Lars, ni har slutligen fört honom till oss. /“So, Lars, you have finally brought him to us.”/

“Ska sanningen fram, Ers nåd, s r det han som har ansökt om detta mötet. /“Actually, My Lord, it is he who has requested this meeting.”/

“Jag förstår. Och vad r det pojken vill? /“I see. And what is it that the boy wants?”/

Ron wasn’t about to stand and listen to a conversation he couldn’t understand.

Lars responded,

Lars looked at Ron for a moment, and motioned him forward, as if to say, Go for it.”

Ron took a step forward, looking around at all the other psionics that had entered the Great Hall just before the council had. He cleared his throat as he began his appeal to the Dragon’s Heart.

“Sirs, I come to you today to tell you of something about which you may not be fully informed. I know that you are aware of the plans and ambitions of the Russian organization we believe is called the Filitov Council. I am sure you are also aware that they have made a great number of strikes into the United States already.

“What you may not be aware of yet is that the Filitov Council has, just three days ago, destroyed the CAMP Committee inside our own compound. With this single act, the Filitov Council has effectively declared war on the American psionic community. And they have shown no hesitation at killing any normals that might happen to get in the way.

“It is our belief that this Russian organization has world-wide ambitions. I am not aware of attacks on psionics in other countries, but I would not be surprised by them. Perhaps you have information on this issue that I do not. In any event, I am requesting your assistance in fighting these people, before too many innocent lives are lost.”

There was a stir in the room as Ron stepped back with the others. The members of the council bowed their heads, and Lars told Ron that they were conversing telepathically. Ron waited as patiently as he could while they spoke amongst themselves for the next ten minutes. Finally, they raised their heads and spoke.

But not to Ron.

”Lars, du var tillsagd att föra honom hit för att förena sig med oss i insatts mot den där Amerikanska organisationen, CAMP. Varför har du fört honom framför oss med andra mål i sinnet? /“Lars, you were told to bring him here to join with us in an effort against this American organization, CAMP. Why have you brought him here with any other goal in mind?”/

”Ers nåd, han r villig att förena sig med oss, men mnet som r tillhanda r förståeligt me viktigt för honom för stunden. /“My Lord, he is willing to join us, but this issue is understandably more important to him at present.”/

”Vi har inget intresse att delta i något krig, Om vi hade lagt oss i alla sm trivial sm despyter som minskliga rasen någonsin haft s hade vi aldrigt fått någon ro. /“We have no interest in fighting a war. If we were to involve ourselves in every petty squabble the human race started, we would never have any peace in our lives.”/

”Ers nåd, vi talar inte om någon normal liten konflikt. Detta r en konflikt mellan psionics. Om vi inte kommer att visa ledarskap vid ett sådant här tillfälle , vad gör vi d här? /“My Lord, we are not talking about any normal conflict. This is a conflict of psionics. If we are not going to show leadership in such a time of crisis, what are we here for?”/

Ron had withstood all of this that he could take. Somebody want to start speaking English? Remember me? The guy you are supposed to be dealing with? The annoyance in his voice was quite evident.

The council was somewhat rocked by what they perceived as his impertinence. Their leader spoke to Ron. You have no rights to speak in this forum. We allowed you to speak earlier only because our Hunter insisted. You will remain silent from here forward.”

Ron’s fury boiled over at this point. Kiss my ass, buddy! You know, I may not speak Swedish, but I can tell you aren’t willing to help. You know what? That’s just fine. I wouldn’t want a coward like you fighting on my side anyway. When the fighting starts right here in your back yard, then maybe you’ll know we were right. Turning to Lars he said, We’ll be waiting out in the hall. He stormed out of the Great Hall, with his family trailing behind.

Lars turned to the council. He’s right. You have shown great disrespect to the leader of another guild. How can you profess to believe in our rules, when you break them so readily?”

“Our actions are not your concern, Hunter. You will return to your duties.”

“No, I don’t think so. See, I’ve been out in the world. I’ve seen what’s going on. And, you know what? He’s got it pegged. It isn’t just America. Everywhere I’ve gone, I’ve heard about these Russians. Sooner or later, they will come here. At that time, I hope you can manage to fight them off. Lars removed the ceremonial tunic he had put on for this meeting, and laid it on the stone table before him. Without another word, he left the Great Hall.

Lars had apologized profusely on their way back to the airport, but Ron had remained silent, brooding. Even Nikki had not been able to pull him out of it, and the rest knew just to let him be.

Arriving at the airport, they found a small group waiting for them. From their style of dress, Ron could tell they were part of the ShadowDragon. His defenses immediately went to full strength. The energy he was radiating actually made them back up physically. The leader of this small band was a woman, about 5’9 tall, with flowing blond hair that reached her waist. She was dressed in warrior garb, reminiscent of medieval times, but made of newer materials. Her pale blue eyes widened upon feeling the power of Ron’s defenses wash over her. She bowed politely.

“Sir, you have nothing to fear from us. My name is Kimberly. I am an Adept of the Fourth Order, formerly of the ShadowDragon.”

Lars continued for her, Kimberly is was my deputy. What are you doing here, Kimmy?”

“Sir, we Hunters have seen a lot. The rest of the SkuggDrakarna may not believe you, but we know better. We will follow you wherever this leads.”

“This is going to be dangerous, Kim.”

“What worth doing isn’t? she responded. Turning to Ron, she said, Sir, I know you have no reason to trust us. We accept that you need proof of our intentions. We would ask only that you give us the opportunity to do so.”

“How many of you are there? Ron temporized. He wasn’t sure what to say to this lady.

“There are fifty of us, ready to follow your lead.”

“Very well. Lars, can you take charge of them, and get them back to my house? We need to get all the troops together to try to plan something out.”

Lars came to attention, and bowed his head slightly. It will be done. Then he walked off with the group of Hunters to find the rest.

Ron and his family boarded another airplane for home. Ron was asleep before the wheels left the runway. He knew he was going to need all the rest he could get.

The USS Nimitz was patrolling in the Northern Atlantic, just west of Ireland. It was a calm, clear day, the sun glinting off the ocean. Captain Charles Farraday was lounging in his bridge chair, enjoying the morning, and keeping an eye on his crew. It was easier for him than most captains: Captain Farraday was a psionic.

“Sir, AWACS is reporting an unidentified surface group approaching, 200 miles out and closing, reported a junior officer.

“Number of vessels? inquired the XO for the captain.

“The Hawkeye doesn’t have a clear count because of distance, sir, but at least ten.”

“Captain, said the XO, I think we should send some aircraft over there to check it out.”

The XO saw that faraway look the captain sometimes got just before making an important decision. He waited patiently for the captain’s orders.

Finally, the captain said, You’re right Bob. Air Boss, send the two S-3s to check out that surface group.”

“Aye aye, Captain! replied the officer.

Though the captain outwardly settled back into his chair, appearing relaxed, he was very nervous. The surface group was too far away for him to read its intentions psionically. Either that, or someone was blocking his attempt. That would be really bad news. He’d gotten the message, through the grapevine, that there might be trouble coming. That would explain why the Nimitz was patrolling so far north. Well, if the Russians wanted to get frisky again, Farraday knew he could knock them down a peg. But if there were psionics involved, just what would that mean?

The captain passed the following fifteen minutes in a building dread. Something told him there was going to be trouble. Without any warning at all from anywhere, the captain turned to his XO and said, Bob, let’s bring the group to general quarters.”

Though somewhat surprised, Commander Bob Maxton had learned not to question his captain’s motives; he was right far more often than he was wrong. Aye, sir. Maxton gave the orders to the bridge crew, who began to carry out those orders. All of the ships in the battle group came alive as personnel hopped out of their bunks, or put down their cards, and rushed to their battle stations.

The radio crackled with the report of the lead S-3 Viking. Mother Hen, this is Jackal Lead, we have tally on fifteen, repeat one-five surface vessels of Russian origin. These are warships, Mother Hen. They are at full steam, and heading right for the carrier group. Requesting instructions, over.”

The radio officer turned to the captain expectantly. The captain said, Tell them standard ROE is in effect, but to keep themselves between the two surface groups. Bob, I think it’s time we head down to CIC.”

Maxton followed his captain down into the ship, where the Combat Information Center was located. The room was dark, with red overhead lighting, to make the displays on the screens easier to read. As soon as the captain had arrived, he requested an update.

“Sir, as you know, began the intelligence officer, The Russians no longer have a functional carrier. However, we are close enough to their turf right now that they can easily do in-flight refueling to get bombers and fighters down from the mainland. The group ahead of us, according to the pilots in the Vikings, are mainly cruisers and destroyers. A few frigates, but no battleships or carriers. However, the S-3 pilots also report that they are in battle formation, sir. It looks like they are looking for trouble.”

“If they want trouble, they’ll get trouble, interjected the XO, speaking aloud the sentiment of the entire crew.

“Let’s get the fighters up and fueled, and let’s load the Harpoons onto the Hornets. I want every working aircraft in the air. If this becomes a shitstorm, I don’t want to have our pilots on the deck. Radio Washington and let them know what is going on. Tell them we have launched a full alert, but that we are not advancing to meet the other surface group. You have the birds form a CAP around the group at fifty miles.”

“Aye, sir! chimed the officers.

“Pull that first flight back into the CAP. I don’t want them to be able to say we provoked them into something. If this is going to happen, I want to make damned sure they get the blame for it.”

“Aye, sir. Captain, should we put the AWACS in EMCON? The officer was referring to Emissions Control, a way to deny the enemy information about yourself.

“No. It’s obvious they already know where we are. Probably satellite photos.”

“Yes, sir.”

Aboard the Russian vessel Zhdanov, Captain Beriya was extremely unhappy. He also knew that there was little he could do to change that. He had been given his orders by this. whatever he was. He was told, “call him Putin”, but nothing more. He disagreed with his mission, but, as if this were the days of the old Soviet Empire, he was told that his opinion was not important, that this mission was good for the Rodina, that he would do as he was told.

As if the people of Mother Russia would approve of a direct assault on the Americans in this way! This is madness!

“Watch your thoughts, Comrade Captain,” said Putin, startling Beriya out of his thoughts. “They may have a negative effect on your performance, and you wouldn’t want that.”

“Understood, Comrade Putin.” Comrade. That was another return to the “Good Old Days” of the Union. What was happening to his Motherland, his Rodina? And how did this Putin seem to know what he was thinking all the time?

Igor Putin sat back in what should have been the Captain’s chair, watching the first major operation of the campaign unfold. He had arrayed before him the largest battle group in the Russian Navy. A fleet of fifteen warships, with a group of fleet replenishment vessels on the way. His air cover would be there when he needed it, and he knew that the submarines were lurking in the area around the American battle group. His was the greatest power. Though he had never served a day in the military, he was now acting as Admiral, overseeing this, the first battle of the New Great Patriotic War. They would return Russia to power, to prominence. That he and his brothers and sisters of the Filitov Council would rule permanently shouldn’t trouble the citizens greatly. After all, he thought, they were used to the czars once. They can get used to anything.

“Begin the attack, Captain Beriya,” he commanded.

“Bring the battle group to general quarters,” ordered Beriya. “Begin the launch procedure now.”

The radio signal traveled from ship to ship, and missiles flew from the five cruisers in the fleet, one a minute, for the next eight minutes. A total of forty SS-19 missiles were launched at the Nimitz battle group.

Aboard the Nimitz, things got hectic in a hurry. Captain Farraday ordered all ships into air-defense mode. The first missile would hit in just under nine minutes. No one yet knew exactly which ships were targeted. The aircraft carrier would be the biggest prize, and so it was most likely the main target. Farraday’s options were the same in any case: bring the fleet to air-defense readiness, and launch a counter-attack.

“Bob, launch the SLAMs.”

“How many of them, sir?” his XO inquired.

“All of them,” he responded solemnly.

“Sir?”

“Bob, the Russian missiles will be here in less than 9 minutes. It’ll take our missiles more than 20 minutes to get there. If we don’t launch them all now, we may just have a bigger boom. Launch them all. And tell the air wing to follow them in. I want these cocksuckers doing the dog-paddle home.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” The XO relayed the orders to the radio officers, who didn’t question their orders, but found them highly unusual nonetheless.

Aboard the USS Monterey, 2000 yards away from the Nimitz, Captain John Sizlig found his orders most unusual. But he knew Farraday, and he knew what he was thinking. “Missile crews, prepare the SLAMs for launch. Your target is the Russian fleet. When ready, you will fire all, I repeat, all of our SLAMs.”

He leaned against a bulkhead as he received confirmation from his missile crews. Their motions appeared frantic, but were well organized, and the first SLAM left the rails in under a minute. It would take over three minutes to launch all twenty of them. He knew that the same action was happening aboard the other cruiser in the group, the Normandy, as well as aboard the three destroyers, Stout, Mitscher, and Ross. He wondered if he’d be alive long enough to find out if his missiles hit anything.

In the skies above the battle group, Captain William “Shaggy” Barnes was flying the lead Tomcat of the squadron. He was CAG aboard the USS Nimitz, responsible for every aircraft flying off the deck. He received his orders, and quickly assembled his battle plan.

“To all flights, this is the CAG. Your mission is to follow in the SLAM missiles, and take out any Russian fleet vessels that they miss. Homer, you take lead. The F-14s will fly high cover, in case they’ve got air support hiding somewhere.” He continued his brief, outlining mission objectives and a brief chain of command. He thought to himself, This is supposed to be done in a ready room, not at fifteen thousand feet. Once his briefing was finished, the aircraft broke into their elements, and moved off to the north, toward the enemy.

“Any trouble back there, Scooby?” he asked his RIO, his back-seat officer.

Martin Scobes had been with the fleet for exactly two months. He had gotten paired with the CAG because Shaggy didn’t have a RIO at the moment. Given his name, and CAG’s callsign, his was inevitable.

“Everything’s fine up here, Shaggy,” he answered, “But I wish they could’ve waited until after dinner.”

“I hear ya. And I forgot my Scooby Snacks.” The running joke did little to ease the tension. What were the Russians up to? No Russian fleet had opened fire on an American in longer than he could recall. What had changed?

Four hundred feet below the surface of the Atlantic, the next element of the operation circled, maneuvering at only five knots, the Politovskiy was nearly silent, and almost impossible to detect. It had been circling this area for days, waiting for the American fleet to come to this spot. The captain aboard the Politovskiy, Aleksandr Torpoyev, knew that American sonar was far too good for him to stalk the fleet. But his ship was truly undetectable at this speed, and since he knew where the Americans were going, he simply got there first, and stopped, waiting for them to pass over his head.

This they did, and now he would be allowed to do the thing for which he had trained his entire life. He would show the world that the Americans were not unbeatable. He would show them that Russian - no, Soviet! - naval power was just as strong. He did not understand the reason for his orders any more than his colleague Captain Beriya did, but, unlike Beriya, Torpoyev yearned for this day, and was reveling in the emotions.

His sonar officer announced, “The carrier has just passed over us, Captain. They are at 300 meters and opening.”

“Very well. Torpedo room, load all tubes. Open outer doors.”

With satisfaction, he noted that his actions were carried out quickly and efficiently. The torpedoes were ready to fire in well under a minute. “Range to target?” he asked.

“1500 meters and opening, sir! Bearing three-three-six!”

“Match bearings and fire,” he ordered calmly. He was settling down now, he was becoming what he had been trained to be: a fighting machine.

The submarine shuddered as the four torpedoes were ejected into the water by high-pressure air. Two officers were guiding them in to the American carrier. The running time for the fish was barely over a minute.

This, the Nimitz was not prepared for. A frantic call erupted across the CIC. “Torpedoes! Torpedoes in the water bearing one-five-six! Range is close! Less than fifteen hundred yards!”

“All ahead flank!” ordered Farraday, knowing it was almost a futile action at that distance. He didn’t need to ask how the sub had gotten that close: obviously this was a coordinated plan. “Activate all countermeasures! Get the Vikings, and the LAMPS helos, looking for that sub! Sound collision alarm!”

As crewmen rushed around to follow the captain’s orders, he knew, in the kind of certainty that seamen have, that his ship was doomed. If only my Ability were stronger, I might be able to stop them! Captain Farraday had never had an opportunity to train himself in the psionic ways, and so was not able to turn away such a swiftly moving object. It would not have mattered in any case, for the Russian psionics were prepared for such an attempt.

There were now seven helicopters and two jet aircraft sweeping the waters around the carrier, looking for a submarine. The Politovskiy slid silently down into the depths, sliding below the thermocline, the boundary between warm surface water and colder deep water. This boundary reflected the active sonar waves of its pursuers back up to the surface, and so they felt they were safe.

It was not the fault of the sonar crew that they didn’t hear the Seawolf.

Aboard the USS Seawolf, Captain Brad Simmons was pissed. He had just been informed that a Russian submarine had fired torpedoes at an American aircraft carrier. Mother-fuckers! So, you want to play in our pond, do you? We’ll see about that!

“Spin up the ADCAPs! I want that boat sunk.”

“Aye, sir! Working on a firing solution now, sir!”

“Very well, inform me when you have it.”

Captain Simmons rested in his chair. Though not a psionic, he’d been warned about the coming troubles from his brother. And I thought he was out of his mind at first. Just the loss of his daughter sending him over the edge. But how else to explain this? Shit, I hope all of what Bill told me isn’t actually going to happen.

His fire-control officer interrupted his train of thought. “Sir, we have a firing solution, distance to target six thousand yards, run time on the ADCAP will be four minutes.”

“Fire tubes one and three, and reload.” The submarine quivered as the torpedoes left their tubes. The sonar officer in charge of tracking the torpedo kept a running commentary as the fish closed on the target.

“Comrade Captain! Torpedo in the water! No! Two torpedoes in the water! They are in acquisition mode, they do not yet have us!”

Captain Torpoyev asked calmly, “Bearing and distance?”

“Two-two-four at fifty-five hundred meters!”

“Come right to zero-nine-zero, ten degrees on the rudder. Make your depth two hundred fifty meters. All ahead flank speed.” The control room crew marveled at their commander’s calm demeanor. Inside, he was enraged. How dare they fire on my ship! Do they not know that we are the leaders of the new order? We shall teach them a lesson they will never forget!” He walked back into the sonar room. “Do you have a bearing on the submarine yet?”

“Comrade Captain, I am not tracking a submarine. Obviously, he’s out there, sir, but he does not show on a single scope. I can go active, if you wish.”

“No, that would make it far too easy to track on us. Keep working on it.” He headed back into conn. “Fire control officer, prepare a shot down the reciprocal bearing of the two torpedoes.”

“Aye sir!”

“Match generated bearings and fire one and two.”

Once again the vessel trembled as the torpedoes were launched.

The Seawolf, however, was nowhere near the direction that the torpedoes had been fired. As soon as their own fish had left the tubes, Capt. Simmons had ordered the wires cut, and he had maneuvered clear. He still had the enemy sub on sonar, and he could fire more shots if necessary, but this was obviously a war situation, and he did not wish to waste more torpedoes if he didn’t have to. The Mark 48 ADCAP could just as easily find the other submarine on its own.

On the surface, it took only moments before the torpedoes closed the distance to the Nimitz. The torpedoes had spread out, and struck the ship from bow to stern, mortally wounding one of the largest ships in the world.

Captain Farraday was back on the bridge now, giving orders to the helm. “All stop!” He saw that his orders were being answered, and he turned to the 1-MC public address system. “All hands, abandon ship! Repeat, all hands, abandon ship! The Nimitz has taken multiple torpedo strikes, and is rapidly taking on water. All hands to the lifeboats!” He clicked off the system, and looked to the bridge crew, still staring at him in stunned silence. “Well? What are you waiting for? Get your asses in gear! Get to the lifeboats!”

As all the officers began to leave, the helmsman noted that the captain was not leaving. As young as she was, and as new as she was, she had no place questioning her captain, but she couldn’t not say something. “Captain? Captain, aren’t you coming?”

He looked at her in sympathy. “No, seaman. This is my ship, and I’ll be damned if I’m jumping off her just because somebody put holes in her. Now, go! That’s an order!”

“Aye, aye, sir!” she replied, with a not-so-small lump in her throat. She raced for the door, and looked back, to see the captain standing, staring out the huge bridge windows at the sea. She turned her back on him for the last time, and raced for the nearest life boat.

Captain Farraday had no illusions about going down with the ship. If he thought for certain that the boat was irreparably damaged, he’d have jumped ship like everyone else. But, he did have his Ability. And he had, he hoped, enough strength to keep the ship afloat until he could either get her to shore, or until someone could come repair her. He had to at least make sure that everyone else made it off safely.

Shaggy saw the inbound missiles as he passed over them. They were screaming in toward the fleet at nearly Mach 2. He whispered a silent prayer for the fleet. He radioed in to give them his visual report. That was when he found out that his carrier was sinking. Bastards! Unfortunately, his F-14 was not equipped to handle anti-ship weaponry. He passed the message along to the other flights. He considered keeping it from them until after the attack, but he knew that they would need to be aware that they would have to make a run for the UK as soon as the attack was over, and even then some of them might not make it.

Aboard the Monterey, the radar officer warned, “Time to impact, one minute.”

Captain Sizlig ordered, “Put the system into automatic.”

The officer in charge of the AEGIS defense system on board the Monterey lifted a cover and flipped a switch. The computer was now in charge of the defensive systems onboard the cruiser.

Aboard the Zhdanov, Putin was in the wardroom with the two other psionics on board. They were concentrating very hard. One of them, Bugayev, said, “About a minute to the first missiles, Ivan.”

“Very well. Boris, you and I will take down the computer systems, with help from those on board the Plotkin. I will signal them. You begin your attack.”

There were now five psionics focusing their powers on the battle group. Their psionic abilities reached out, searching for electronic pathways.

“Thirty seconds to impact, sir! System is fully operational!” Sizlig was just about to acknowledge that comment when every system aboard the cruiser flared. Some of the panels actually sparked, and then everything aboard went dead.

“Sir! All defense systems are down! All radar systems are shot to hell! We have no way to track the missiles now, let alone shoot them down!”

“Oh, fuck,” muttered the Captain. He knew his next order was cowardly, and that, if he survived, his career was probably over. But the lives of several hundred crewmen were in his hands, and he couldn’t live with their deaths to make a show of it.

“Abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship! Head for the lifeboats!” He unknowingly echoed the orders of his colleague on the carrier. “Let’s move out, people!” He made sure he was the last to leave the Combat Information Center, but he did leave. He made his way to the nearest available life-raft. His raft hit the water just as the first missile struck his ship.

Aboard the USS Normandy, similar things were happening. However, the captain of that ship chose to stand his ground. The crew onboard felt this was madness, but they would not question their orders. Captain Carl Andreeson had served them well for several years, and they would not desert him now. He had determined that their vessel was not targeted in either of the first two waves of missiles, and that gave them some time to get the systems back up.

“Any luck at all?” he asked the nearest technician.

“Not yet, sir. I’ll let you know if we get anything, okay?” He was nervous, and showing it, and the captain’s interest didn’t help any. Andreeson backed off.

Captain Farraday was holding it together so far. He was using most of his energy to keep the ship afloat. With what other strength he had, he was propelling it forward at a meager speed of five knots. His attention was too focused to notice the incoming SS-19s, and there was nothing he could do about them, anyway.

They struck fore and aft of the superstructure, where he was standing. The missile warheads exploded, ripping the flat top of the flight deck apart, and destroying the supports for the superstructure. The entire island began to topple over. Farraday was thrown through the bridge windows, his face and body lacerated by the broken glass. He fell nearly a hundred feet before hitting anything at all. When he did impact, he could feel bones breaking. The pain was intense. Pieces of the superstructure landed on top of him, pinning him to the deck. He knew that his body would not live much longer, and the ship was a complete goner.

He reached out with his mind, and found Commander Bob Maxton.

In the life raft, Bob Maxton was asking the helmsman, “You just left him there?”

“He ordered me to leave, sir. What was I supposed to do? Drag him out kicking and screaming?”

“I suppose not. Very well, take it.” His statement was cut off by the explosion of the two missiles on the carrier. “Heads down!” he screamed, grabbing the helmsman, and shoving her roughly to the floor of the lifeboat, throwing himself on top of her to protect her from flying debris. Neither of them moved until the explosions died away, and he was the one who rose. He looked at her for a moment, worried that she had been injured, but all of a sudden, some force tried to rip his brain in half.

Charles Farraday’s last conscious act was to send a message to the world. But before he did that, he gave his best friend and first officer a parting present.

Bob Maxton was flung to the floor of the raft with the sheer immensity of power that had flowed through his mind. He had almost grasped the message that his captain had sent out to God-knows-who. He knew that something else had happened, but he could not yet grasp it. What he really knew was that he now had a splitting headache. He looked down, and he saw that the helmsman, whose name he recalled was Rita, was moving. He helped her up, and looked her over for injuries quickly. She appeared okay. Together they stared as their ship sank slowly beneath the waves of the North Atlantic.

“Sir?” she said tearily.

“We’ll get the bastards, Connelly. I promise you that.”

“Yes sir,” she managed, before letting a sob escape her throat.

In the plane, flying over the Atlantic Ocean, Ronald Marcus Chaffey sat bolt upright in his airplane seat out of a dead sleep. His head was throbbing with the message that had carried itself around the world, and had probably awakened several dead people with its forcefulness. He wished Karen were here now, so he could verify that he had not dreamt it, but she was with Lars now. Linda, who was sitting beside him, noticed his sudden agitation.

“Is something wrong, Ron?”

“Yes, I think there is.”

“What.” she started to ask, but could see that Ron had entered one of his “states”, and wasn’t going to be disturbed for a simple matter of curiosity.

Ron was searching for the source of the message. He soon found it, in two different places. Though this confused him, the two points of origin were very close together, and both were in the midst of a pack full of trouble. Ron saw the overall picture, and he realized that he was too far away to help everyone. How do you choose whom to save?

Ron came to his decision by a simple matter of numbers. He was too far away to try to take out the missiles directly. He could only protect one location. While attacking the Russian ships was desirable, that would only kill people, and not save anyone. This would save the lives of American sailors. It was the best he could manage.

Back underwater, the Politovskiy was fleeing for its life. Captain Torpoyev had tried every maneuver he could think of to escape the closing torpedoes. Nothing had managed to shake the Mark 48s. He was resigned to the fate of his submarine. He had taken out their most vaunted carrier, but it would seem that the devil would have his due. Their triumph would cost them their lives. He had but one last duty to perform for his crew.

“Surface the ship, emergency rise. All up on the bow planes!” His orders were confirmed and carried out swiftly. There was the chance that rising back through the thermocline layer would confuse the torpedoes, but it was a slim chance at best.

The torpedoes followed the Politovskiy up to the surface, and they contacted the sub just as its bow cleared the water. The explosion actually pushed the submarine farther out of the water, but this only made things worse. With so much of the sub out of the water, the impact when it fell back was too much of a strain for the already-damaged hull. The ship split in half, and quickly filled with water. Not a single crew member made it to safety before the halves slid back beneath the waters for the last time.

“I have two explosions, captain, and then some tearing noises. They made it to the surface just as the fish got there. No hull crush noises, but engine sounds are gone.”

Captain Simmons easily restrained his enthusiasm. He had to make sure the sub was actually dead, and not waiting on the surface. “Periscope depth.” His ship rose slowly up from the depths, not surfacing, but only close enough so that the ship’s periscope could be raised out of the water. The captain made a quick sweep, and then a slower one. He slapped the handles on the periscope up and said, “Lower periscope.” Turning to his crew, he said, “There’s no sub on the surface, so I think we can call that a kill.” He quashed the beginning celebration with his next sentence. “The USS Nimitz is also not on the surface.” Silence filled the room as this bit of news sank in. “XO, surface the boat. There were life rafts up there, and we have a duty to those sailors. Sonar, this is the captain: keep your ears open for anything that doesn’t belong.”

Bob Maxton was looking in the wrong direction when the Seawolf surfaced. He heard a cry from one of the other lifeboats, and turned to see what that was about. Never had he seen a more welcome sight than the large, black sail of the submarine rising up from the ocean’s surface. I take back everything I ever said about nucs.

The missiles were racing in now, and Captain Andreeson was just about to order the crew to the lifeboats. The missiles were mere seconds from impact, and he feared that he’d left evacuation too late. He was about to turn and give the abandon order, when he saw a bright flare of light from the direction of the missiles. The lookout standing next to him gasped in surprise, and then had his binoculars yanked away by the captain. What he saw was completely impossible: the missile had exploded in mid-air. Nothing had contacted it, and his ship could do nothing to stop it. Incredulously, he focused in on the remaining missile targeted on them. Just as he managed to find it, it too exploded without warning. Now what do I do? Do I abandon ship? Or do I stand my ground and hope like hell that whatever is stopping those missiles holds out?

The answer to his question was surprising for two reasons: first, he had not expected an answer, and second, it was not his voice that he heard in his mind. He was so startled by the event that he didn’t question the wisdom of the voice.

“Get everyone inside! Everyone under cover!” If the missiles exploded any closer in, someone could get caught by the blast. “All right, folks, something is stopping those missiles from getting to us. I don’t know what it is, but, by God, we’ve got a chance now. Any luck with the electronics?”

“No, sir. Sir, these are going to require an overhaul to repair. Every circuit is fried.”

“Very well. Get to your damage control station. Situation report?”

“Sir, the Monterey is sinking, the Mitscher is gone. Both Stout and Ross are damaged, but still afloat. Neither of the frigates has been targeted with a missile. Sir. Nimitz has also been sunk.” That statement silenced the entire room. They had failed. Whether they survived this mission or not, they had failed to protect the carrier. It was their job, and they had not done it, and the only redeeming fact was that the crew had gotten off. That, and.

“Sir, we have contact with the USS Seawolf. She reports having sunk the sub that fired on the carrier. They are presently doing rescue ops for the carrier crew. They report that they do not have room for all the survivors.” That was, at the same time, good and bad news. The good news was that there were that many survivors. The bad news was that the weather in the North Atlantic was notoriously bad, and storms were scheduled to arrive in several hours. They would have to find a way to collect several thousand crewmen from the water before those storms hit.

“Put a call in to the British navy. Tell them if they’ve got anything in the area that can haul a large number of people, we need it.”

“Aye, sir!” That response was punctuated by the sound of three more explosions, two to their front, and one behind them.

“The last explosion was a missile hit on Ross, sir. She’s going down. All hands have abandoned ship. The two to our front were intended for us, but exploded like the others.”

“Well, at least whatever that is, is holding out. Keep me informed.”

“Aye aye, sir!”

Ron was sweating profusely in his airline seat. He had not ever had to work this hard from such a distance. The stewardess, alarmed at his appearance, reached to rouse him. Linda stopped her.

“Don’t. He’ll be okay. But, could you bring me a wet towel for his forehead?”

“Is it contagious?”

“Huh? Oh, no, he’s not sick. he’s. concentrating. Please, just bring me the towel.”

The stewardess complied. But Ron saw none of it.

Shaggy Barnes passed the last of the inbound missiles, but could no longer reach any of the ships of the fleet. Finally, broadcasting on the GUARD frequency, he reached one of the frigates, just to be informed that, except for the Normandy, all of the main ships of the fleet were either damaged, sinking, or sunk, and that the Normandy was unreachable.

“Very well, Simpson. We’ve passed what appears to be the last of the inbound missiles. We are still fifteen minutes from our target. All friendly missiles appear to be tracking well. Can you tell me why the Normandy has managed so well?”

“Sorry, Turkey Lead, we don’t understand the phenomenon involved. No missiles have been able to get through to the Normandy. It hasn’t even had a near miss.”

“Very well, Simpson. We will continue our profile, and then bingo to the United Kingdom. Can you call ahead and let them know we’re coming?”

“Already done, Turkey Lead. There will be Texacos in the air waiting for you.”

“Understood, Simpson. Thank you for that. Turkey Lead, out.” To his rear-seater, he said, “Well, that eliminates that worry.”

“Yeah, great, Shaggy. Now we just have to worry about whatever else can go weird on this mission.”

“I hear you, Scooby. Keep your eyes on that scope.”

The Russian fleet was aware of the incoming missiles, but, unlike the Americans, they had no system readily prepared to deal with it. They had to resort to anti-aircraft weaponry better suited to bringing down a bomber than a missile.

In the wardroom of the Zhdanov, Putin and his associates were keeping an eye on the missiles. Bugayev reported the incoming Alpha Strike of aircraft and missiles. Putin sent off a telepathic message. He had been waiting for this.

While jamming an AWACS radar is next to impossible, Mikhail Borodin had learned how to maneuver the radar energy away from its receiver. It had never occurred to him that this technique could be used on visible light as well, or he would have made his plane invisible altogether. It was enough that he had masked his flight of forty MiG-29s from the American radar systems. He acknowledged Putin’s order, and radioed his comrade pilots. It was time to show the Americans who this part of the world’s oceans belonged to.

Five minutes later, all of the Russian missiles had finished their flights. The last group had focused solely on Normandy, and the last of the five had come dangerously close to hitting them. Now, they had to help their friends who were in the water.

“Let’s begin recovery operations. And thank the Lord, or whoever it was, for stopping those damned missiles.”

The response startled him half out of his wits. He certainly had not expected a response to that statement. Once again, it was not his voice. He dared not mention it to the crew; they would surely think he’d gone mad.

The USS Normandy, last remaining major surface combatant of the Nimitz battle group, steamed toward the nearest group of survivors, those from the Mitscher. He hoped they would get help soon.

The MiG-29s came down from above. As they reached the target area, Borodin could not keep up his diversion of the radar systems, as he was too involved with flying his aircraft. The AWACS controller took immediate notice of three dozen new blips on his screen. He sent a panic call to Shaggy.

“Turkey Lead, Turkey Lead, this is Hummer-2. We have inbound bogeys at your two o’clock! Angels four-zero and descending rapidly! Distance seven-five miles! They appeared out of nowhere, Turkey Lead!”

“Roger, Hummer-2. Okay, Turkey Flight, this is Shaggy. Time to do our jobs.” The flight of eight F-14 Tomcats increased speed, and gained altitude. It was their job to protect the strike-fighters on this mission. The MiGs were already within Phoenix missile range, and the Tomcats locked on quickly. Soon, twenty-four Phoenix missiles were heading for their targets at over Mach 3.

The lock-on signal was immediately recognized by the Russian MiGs. They began jinking to avoid the incoming missiles, but they could not be too evasive, as they had their own targets to destroy. If the MiGs didn’t take out the cruise missiles, the Russian fleet was going to be a sitting duck. Borodin gave the commands, and the MiGs dove for the wavetops.

The SLAM missiles were traveling at subsonic speeds, a little over 500 knots. They were within six minutes of hitting their targets when the MiGs descended on them. As slow as they were, they were also miniscule radar targets. While an infrared missile could take one out, that was still an iffy thing at best. And the thought of a Phoenix missile bearing down on their aircraft did not improve the Russian pilots’ accuracy. Of the 100 missiles launched, only twenty would be dispatched by the fighters.

The Phoenix missiles would fair better. Twenty-four missiles fired, and seventeen planes were hit. Two of those managed to run for the mainland, but the other planes were well and truly gone. That still left twenty-three MiGs, however, and now they were heading for the strike aircraft.

Shaggy sent a warning to Homer as they launched another twenty-four Phoenix missiles. The distance between the two flights was closing rapidly, and the Phoenix missiles passed just over the strike fighter groups on their way to the Russian targets. Head-on, the Phoenix had a lower kill rate, and only ten of the remaining MiGs were splashed. However, the MiGs and the F-18 Hornet strike-fighters were now in range of each other. But thirteen MiG-29s against 36 F-18s and the eight Tomcats really wasn’t much of a match. In the ensuing furball, the Russians managed to down four Hornets, while the Americans splashed all but one of the MiGs, which turned for home rather than be blasted from the sky. Forty American planes and eighty SLAM missiles were now rushing headlong toward the Russian fleet. An unstoppable force, or so the Americans thought.

Putin was not entirely surprised that Borodin and his pilots had been so easily defeated. He had anticipated the possibility. Borodin had signaled their defeat as he raced his plane as far out of harm’s way as possible.

To the others, Putin said, “The missiles are our first concern. Take out any missile targeted on our vessel.”

“What about the other ships?” Bugayev asked.

“Fuck the other ships,” responded Boris. “They’re just normals.”

“I will signal the Plotkin. They will be responsible to defend themselves. Now, get to work!”

The Hornet drivers were stunned as they followed the missiles in, to see several of them drop into the ocean, seemingly at random. They could not know that those twelve had been the only ones targeted at two specific vessels within the fleet. They watched as the rest of the missiles homed in on their targets flawlessly.

Aboard the Zhdanov, Captain Beriya was near panic. There were missiles inbound to his fleet, and he had little in the way of defense. Putin told him this would not happen. He told him that this would not be a problem. Damn him!

Putin appeared at the captain’s side just then. “You need not worry about these missiles, Captain Beriya. None of them is targeted on your vessel.”

“And how do you know this?” Beriya asked.

“It is my job to know such things. I will be on deck if you need me.”

Beriya thought that madness in the middle of a missile attack, but if the man wanted to commit suicide, Beriya wasn’t going to stop him. He also was not going to blithely sit by and watch missiles come in and pound his fleet. “Ready the guns! Take those missiles out if you can! NOW!”

The gunners aboard the Russian ships made a valiant effort, but there simply was little chance of them killing off all of the missiles inbound for their vessels. In short order, all but two of the Soviet ships were sinking quickly beneath the surface. The two remaining vessels, the Zhdanov and the Plotkin, had no missiles even attempt to hit them.

Henry “Homer” Simpson took note of that, but also realized it didn’t matter. He radioed his fellow pilots, “Dragon Flight, this is Dragon Lead. We’ve got two targets left. Launch the Harpoons, NOW!” As he completed his sentence, he saw the briefest flash of light from below. Were they firing on us? The next thing he saw was his wingman’s plane exploding not fifty yards away. He banked away from it, and, in doing so, saved his own life as he saw another blast of blue-white energy flash by and impact an airplane behind him. What in the fuck is this shit? “Dragon Flight, break and run! Let the missiles do the job, we do not have the fuel for an extended fight!”

The Hornets were falling rapidly, as the blasts from below seemed to come with greater frequency. Homer jinked and rolled to avoid them, but jinked one too many times, and he found his aircraft exploding about him. His last thought was that he had no idea what had killed him. Doesn’t that just suck?

Shaggy Barnes was aware of what was happening to his friends in the Hornets. He also knew that he had absolutely no way to help them. “Scooby, what say we get the hell out of here?”

“Well, my fun meter is pegged, boss. I’m with you.”

With a muttered curse, William “Shaggy” Barnes turned his Tomcat eastward, and headed for the United Kingdom and safety. Or, at least it was safe yesterday. Who knows today? His biggest concern was how he was supposed to tell over fifty families that their sons, and six daughters, he reminded himself, would not be coming home, ever. Shit.

The psionics aboard the two remaining Soviet vessels were able to disable all of the incoming Harpoon missiles. A good many of them had never been launched because of the timing of their energy attacks. One missile had splashed into the ocean a hundred yards away, but Putin took little notice of that. This, the first battle of the New Great Patriotic War, had been a victory. A costly one for the normals, but that was not Putin’s concern. Not a single psionic life had been lost, or so he thought. He did not know about Captain Farraday. And, in truth, it would not have mattered to him anyway.

Ron slumped back in his chair. He opened his eyes, and realized that Linda was leaning over him, and that the other first-class passengers were staring at him. He took the offered towel from Linda’s hands, and smiled at her.

“Are you all right, sir?” the stewardess asked with concern.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I’m just a bit stressed, that’s all. Can I get a soda, please?”

“Certainly, sir.”

As the stew hurried off to do that, Linda quietly asked, “What happened?”

Ron answered as deadpan as he could, “World War Three just started.”

Linda’s face went pale, and he worried she would faint. He reached out mentally and strengthened her vital signs, allowing her to absorb the information. She turned to him, stable but still pale.

“Will we win?”

“I don’t know, Linda. I really don’t.”

Ron tried to rest throughout the rest of the flight, but his mind was continually upset with the thoughts that he had to do something about the loss of the Nimitz. He stopped the stewardess on her rounds.

“Ma’am, where are we stopping off to refuel?”

“We’re making a quick turnaround at Dulles, in Washington D.C.” she replied.

“Are passengers allowed off at that stop?”

“Yes, sir, we have several passengers getting off there, but your luggage-”

“I’m not worried about my luggage. I have to get to where it’s going eventually, anyway. But I have to get off in Washington.”

“Well, sir, that’s your choice. Understand that your ticket won’t allow you to go the rest of the way separately, though.”

“Not a problem. Thank you -”

“Terry.”

“Thank you, Terry. You’ve been very helpful.” She beamed at him and moved off. He had Linda tell the others that they were getting off in Washington, and then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and tried to find Lars.

The summons might have popped his eardrums had it been audible. Karen snapped to attention the same way, having gotten the echo of the call through her link with him.

he said with no little sarcasm in his voice.

The plane landed safely and on time at Dulles International Airport. Karen and Lars stood hand in hand waiting for Ron and company to get off the plane. Standing behind Lars were Kimberly, his deputy; and another man of impressive bulk and serious demeanor. As Ron approached, Lars said, “I hope this was enough, I did not know what you had in mind. You remember Kimberly, I assume. This is Stefan. He is an Adept of the Fifth Order.”

“This should be plenty. a larger group would only make things more difficult.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“We’re going to infiltrate the White House.”

The incredulous stares he was getting would have been humorous if the reason for the statement were not so grim. He plowed on, not expecting resistance. “Look, I’ve got to talk to the President. We just had a battle group slaughtered in the Atlantic Ocean. I managed to save one ship, and most of the people survived, but not all of them. And I don’t know what they’re doing about all the survivors in that cold-ass water. But one of the captains was a psionic, and his last message, which I’m surprised you didn’t hear, indicated that they weren’t prepared for this war.”

Karen said quietly, “We should have been ready.” While the rest just stared at her, Ron nodded.

“So you did hear it.”

“Yes, but it was not that strong. although I guess if it came from the middle of the Atlantic, it was stronger than I thought it was. I just assumed it was someone’s stray thought from the neighborhood. I didn’t take any notice of it.”

“Well, I was a lot closer. nearly line of sight, I guess, and that meant it boomed through my head like you wouldn’t believe. He was max power on that. and there’s still something about that incident that puzzles me. well, we won’t go into that now. Right now, we’ve got to sneak into the White House. I want to make such an impression that he’ll have to listen to me. Here’s what I’ve got planned.”

“Sir, we were lucky, the QE2 was in port, but ready to sail. She was underway in less than 30 minutes, and was on location in less than four hours. The storms are starting to raise hell with rescue ops, but they’ve already gotten aboard most of the survivors.”

“What kind of losses are we looking at?” The president wanted to know.

“We don’t have a verified count yet, sir, but here are the estimates: We’ve lost five ships: one carrier, the Nimitz; one cruiser, the Monterey; and three destroyers, Stout, Mitscher and Ross. Of the crews on board all of those ships, most of them managed to abandon before the missiles hit, so we suffered minor casualties there, unfortunately, one of the dead is Captain Charles Farraday, commander of the Nimitz. Of the air wing embarked on the carrier, we lost three F-14s and sixteen F-18 Hornets. That totals twenty-two men, sir. Our total casualties were light in personnel because of some quick thinking by our captains.”

“They’ll be well rewarded, Admiral. What else?”

“Well, the Seawolf managed to sink the sub, we think an Alfa class Russian attack sub, that hit the Nimitz. The Normandy, the second cruiser in the battle group, remained untouched throughout the missile strike. The report from our commander onboard states that missiles headed for his ship exploded mysteriously before hitting the target. We have no explanation for that.”

“I do.”

“Who said that?” the president demanded. Everyone looked around, but the voice had seemingly come from nowhere.

“I did,” replied Ron, who materialized right before the president’s eyes. Secret Service agents immediately attempted to move to interdict the intruder, but were held in check by unseen forces. Their guns were removed from their holsters, and disappeared into thin air.

“Who-who are you?” the president requested apprehensively.

“I am Ron Chaffey, Mr. President. I am an American citizen, and I mean you no harm. I have come to help you understand the events occurring in the Atlantic Ocean this afternoon. You see, I witnessed most of them.”

“I’m calling security to get this punk kid out of here.” The Admiral froze in his tracks suddenly, not able to move. Ron was not really putting forth that much effort, but figured it was time to stop fooling around. The rest of the team phased into existence, one behind each of the Secret Service agents in the room. His family, consisting of Nikki, Linda, Sandra and Megan, was gathered in a group behind him. Nancy and Cindy had been left to take care of the house.

“Mr. President, we can do this the hard way, with me forcing you to listen to me, or we can do it the easy way. The easy way is better for everyone concerned, I assure you.”

The President of the United States was not used to taking orders from a teenager, but it was obvious to even the dumbest person in the room that this was no ordinary teen. “Very well, Mr. What did you say your name was?”

“Chaffey, sir. Ronald Chaffey.”

“And, what is your affiliation? Your agenda? Why are you here?”

“I am affiliated with.” he almost said CAMP, but that was no longer the truth. He thought quickly and pulled a name from thin air, “The Provisional Psionic Army of the United States of America. My agenda is to save the United States from the coming war. I am here to tell you why the US military is not adequately prepared to face the Russians.”

That was all more than the Admiral, who had been released from Ron’s controls, could swallow. “Just what the hell is a Provisional Psionic Army?”

Ron rolled his eyes, and was about to explain, when an Air Force lieutenant intervened. “Sir, a psionic is defined as a person with mental powers. Someone able to manipulate the real world with their mind.”

The Admiral looked at her as if she had sprouted a third arm. “Are you trying to tell me, Miss Saunders, that these people think they can do telekinesis and shit?”

“Sir, I am making no claim. He is. And, begging the Admiral’s pardon, sir, but how else would you explain what just happened here?”

That silenced the Admiral effectively. Ron was beginning to like Lt. Saunders.

“You seem to know something about all of this, Lieutenant. Where does your information come from?”

The sheepish look on her face was evident. It highlighted her straight black hair and big eyes to great effect. “Mr. President. most of my knowledge of such things comes from science fiction novels. That’s the only place I’ve ever known psionics to exist,” looking at Ron, she hastily added, “until now.” And his estimation of her went up yet another notch.

The president turned to Ron. “Are you telling me that you can manipulate things with your mind, son?”

In response, Ron simply reached out with his extension, and heaved the large conference table in the center of the room a foot off the floor. “Do you need a further demonstration, Mr. President, or will this be sufficient?”

The president stood, flabbergasted, at seeing what under any other circumstances he would have assumed was a magic trick. Well, it was magic all right, but this was real.

“Yes, I. I think that will do nicely. Um, could you please set it back down, now?”

Ron positioned the table softly on the floor, being careful not to spill the president’s coffee, which sat on the table.

“Well, I have to take you at your word that you are one of these. psionics. but, what is the Provisional Psionic Army? Are you part of some militia, here to demand your second amendment rights?” The president smirked, to show that he was jesting.

“Like I have need of a gun,” Ron responded in kind. “No, sir. The PPA is a group of citizens with abilities similar to mine. We are organizing now to combat the coming Russian threat. Sir, can we get back to this afternoon’s battle?”

“All right, why don’t you tell us what you know?”

“Can I ask a question first? Did we save all the sailors?”

The Admiral, feeling a need to assert himself again, answered, “The Queen Elizabeth 2 is presently seeing them safely to port in England.”

“Good. I’m sorry, Mr. President, I was too far away from the battle to save more than the one ship. Missiles moving at. well, however fast them Russian jobbies were moving, well, they were too much for me to affect from such a distance. I was able to protect the one ship. boxy thing, what’s it called?”

“The USS Normandy, it’s an AEGIS cruiser,” the lieutenant offered, to the annoyance of the admiral.

“Thanks. I was able to protect the Normandy from harm, but that was all. If I’d had other psionics with me, I could have protected all of them, but that just wasn’t possible. I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, son. You’re not wearing a uniform, you did right well to do what you did.” The president looked over at the admiral, who was still coming to terms with the idea of a real-life psionic in their midst. He shrugged. “Go on.”

“Well, sir, I didn’t see what happened to the carrier. I wasn’t alerted to the battle until after that had been damaged. Anyway, I saw that the Russian missiles were coming in, and I sensed that the fleet’s systems were down, that the ships couldn’t defend themselves. The ship I saved was the biggest one still floating, sir, which is why I chose to protect it: I figured it had the most p

Two matching sets of almond-dark eyes gazed quietly at each other over Jake’s hairy chest as he lay gently snoring in the center of the bed. Two dark-haired beauties lay, one head on each of his shoulders as they rested. Although Jake was exhausted from their sexual romp, the two vampire girls were not.

‘I’m sorry, Annalisa thought into Béla’s mind. I didn’t mean for him to fall for me I was just trying to be a good host and I was a little curious, as well.’

‘It’s difficult to be jealous, Béla thought back, He’s infatuated with you because you remind him of me. It’s really my own fault. I’ve been ignoring him in favor of almost everyone else in the whole world. It was natural for him to seek solace elsewhere. He is, after all, only a male.’

‘And a very desirable one, Annalisa admitted. Although I love you dearly, I would take this male from you if I could. He would be ideal for me.’

Béla smiled, not at all offended at her sister’s candid, if cavalier, attitude.

‘Many of my sisters would probably agree. I suspect that, once he understands our nature, he will discover that he loves our hybrid species more than he loves any particular one of us.’

‘You believe he doesn’t really love you? Annalisa asked, somehow saddened at the thought.

‘I know he loves me, Béla replied. I can feel it in his soul. He will always love me. But I will not pretend that I satisfy his needs completely. Love and want are not logical things to be reasoned out. I will only be able to hold him to me by letting him explore his needs, much though it hurts me inside to do so. Despite my wishes to the contrary, he is not mine to hold.’

‘Perhaps between the two of us, Annalisa thought, grinning across Jake’s hairy chest, we can manage to keep him satisfied.’

‘You are a wolf thinking I am but a hare, Béla accused her sister, not angrily, however, but not exactly amused either. You would dine on me and mine to fill your belly. Be warned that this hare has teeth and will use them if you attempt to take more than your share

‘You wrong me, sister, Annalisa sighed. I would not ask this man to choose between us or do anything that would make him less happy. I might, however, ask him to choose both of us. What man would disagree with such an arrangement? You would be first, and I, subservient under you. This, I would gladly do for a place in his heart.’

‘Your mind is full of tricks, darling, Béla thought back, amused, now, by her younger, less experienced sister. What you suggest, you have already attained. I could no more toss you out of his heart than I could bear to leave him, myself. He has already decided that you are a part of his life. You knew he would make that decision when you approached him.’

‘He was unhappy with sharing you! Annalisa replied defensively. I only sought to ease his distress!’

‘Well, Sister, you succeeded, Béla informed her. His only distress now is regarding how I will receive you into our lives as his lover. We have had this discussion before, he and I. He craves your helpless demeanor, and that is something I cannot offer him. You are not the first to intrude between us

‘He thinks I’m helpless? Annalisa asked, decidedly offended at the mere thought.

‘Not exactly, Béla replied, deciding to be completely honest with her. But, he believes that he can offer you new experiences and put some excitement into your life that he seems to believe you lack.’

‘I’m not certain I understand that, Annalisa thought back, but I’m pretty certain it’s an insult!’

Béla laughed out loud. No, Darling it’s no insult. He only wishes to be appreciated as a platform from which you can enjoy the delights of being alive. It is in that respect that his desire lies. I know, because that’s what he gives to me. But, evidently, I don’t appreciate it enough.’

‘He just wants you to love him, Annalisa thought.

‘That’s the problem, Béla agreed. He wants me to love him. And only him.’

‘But how can that be when I plainly see in his thoughts that he enjoys your what was that phrase Oh! Your extramarital activities?’

Béla chuckled at the phrase she knew he would never use to her face regarding her sexual proclivities.

‘He may not say it to me, but he does think it, doesn’t he? Béla replied, half thinking to herself, now. It pleases him that I fly free, yet return to him at day’s end. But like any male, he wants to be the only one I love.’

‘Do you feel threatened by the fact that I could give him that, while you cannot? Annalisa asked, daring to press her case forward.

‘You really want him, don’t you? Béla replied, privately believing she was making a serious mistake. Very well. I know you will be good for him, so you can stay. But if you hurt him

‘Don’t say it, Sister, Annalisa interrupted. Threats are not needed here. I will make you both as happy as I can. This, I swear on Father’s love for all of us!’

‘Well, Béla grinned, that’s a new one.’

‘Thanks! Annalisa replied. I just made it up!’

‘You are a clever girl, Béla told her. Make certain that you live up to your promises.’

Béla slipped out of the bed and slid into her bright red sarong.

‘I would visit with Father for awhile, Béla told Annalisa, still using non-verbal so as not to awaken Jake. He is not as interested in life as I would wish him to be, and I am concerned for his well-being.’

‘I send with you my best wishes for him, Annalisa replied, sharing her concern for their creator.

‘You can give them to him yourself if you are so concerned, Béla informed her. Father is old and lonely, and would enjoy your presence at his side.’

Annalisa sat up and gazed down at Jake, then at Béla. Her meaning was clear. It saddens me, but I will not leave Jake to awaken to an empty bed.’

Béla looked at her sister for a moment, not forcing her mind-link, but willing to receive anything Annalisa wanted to let her feel. Annalisa remained silent.

‘It saddens me when I leave Jake to awaken alone, Béla said, then. But there are times when I must.’

‘Perhaps too many times, Sister, Annalisa replied. But you may rest easy with my assurance that Jake will not awaken alone.’

Béla turned and left, but she did not feel very reassured. It occurred to her that, perhaps, Annalisa had the right of it. She should put Jake before all others.

‘I can only hope for the day to come when I can, my beloved

Creating an image of Father’s bedchamber in her mind, Béla teleported.

Annalisa sat on the bed and opened her mind, scanning for any presence of Béla. She was gone. She wasn’t dream-walking to spy on her or anything. Smiling, she gazed down at Jake as he slept peacefully, not dreaming.

She surrounded them both with a park from Jake’s memory. It was in a bustling, crowded city called Portland. The park was one of the few places where Jake could get away from the crowding and the constant rushing of people going everywhere.

As the sounds of the city swept through his mind, Jake woke up. He was lying on a park bench. Sitting up, he suddenly looked down at his watch.

“Damn! he exclaimed, realizing he’d missed his two p.m. class.

Then he noticed Annalisa. Looking around at others walking by, he frowned, then looked back at her.

“I’m dreaming, he informed her.

“Yes, Annalisa admitted. How did you know?”

“Well, Jake grinned. For one thing, you’re naked and no one noticed.”

“Oh, Annalisa replied, rolling her eyes off to the side for a second. Silly me I didn’t think of that.”

She sighed, but didn’t create any clothing for her dream image to wear. She liked being naked in front of Jake.

“You’re Annalisa, Jake said. That means I’m really in New Eden. Right?”

“Yes, she admitted. I found this place in your mind, and thought you’d like to visit. You liked being here.”

“That, I did, Jake replied, sounding very agreeable. But, I’m more interested in what happened after I went to sleep. I remember you and Béla both vying for my attentions. What did you two decide? Is that why you brought me here, to break the bad news gently?”

“No, Annalisa said. Béla said I could stay. There are conditions, of course, but they are not your concern.”

“They’re my concern if they affect your happiness and well being, Jake told her. What did she tell you?”

“Basically she said that if I do anything to hurt you or make you unhappy Annalisa said, then shrugged.

“She threatened you? Jake asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No, Annalisa replied. She said what I just said. She didn’t finish the sentence either.”

Jake narrowed his eyes as he looked at the girl, not completely certain if he believed her. Béla wasn’t in the habit of making nondescript threats. When she wanted to say something, she just came out and said it.

“What else did she say? Jake asked. What other conditions are there?”

“Well, she’s the number one wife, Annalisa told him, and she, of course, takes precedence when all of us are together. Basically, I get to take care of you when she isn’t around.”

“Which is most of the time, Jake mentioned, a sour edge to his voice.

“That’s not really fair, you know, Annalisa said, defending her sister. She had a lot to do. There’s Father, and Well, I don’t really know what she needs to do, but I’m sure there’s a lot of it. That’s why she agreed to let me stay.”

“To take me off of her case load’? Jake asked, sounding disgusted now. It’s nice to know how much I matter to her.”

“Jake, she loves you! Annalisa reprimanded him. If she could be with you, she would. So don’t go blaming her for not being there every time you want her!”

Jake didn’t know what to say, now. He knew that Annalisa was telling him the truth. He also believed her when she professed to only want to make him and Béla happy. The problem was, he wouldn’t be happy so long as Béla was out saving the world, or doing things of vital importance that, incidentally, didn’t include him.

Annalisa, sensing his upset, sat down next to him on the park bench.

“How am I supposed to make you happy if you brood like that? she asked, speaking softly as she brushed a hair out of his eyes with her gentle fingers.

“Is that what your purpose is? To make me happy? Jake mused, gazing at the almost Béla clone.

“In reality, we are lying side by side, naked on a big bed, Annalisa told him, smiling now. I can reach over and place my hand on your chest like this

She didn’t move, but suddenly he felt her hand on his chest. Her fingers began playfully twirling his chest hairs around. He reached up to grab her hand, wanting her to stop her ghostly ministrations, but nothing happened.

“Your control isn’t that good, yet, Annalisa grinned at him. But if you want, I can teach you so that you can control your real body while still in a dream image.”

“So we could be walking through this beautiful park while our real bodies are rutting like rabid rabbits? Jake laughed.

“I don’t know, Annalisa replied. That actually sounds pretty exciting. Don’t you think so? I am supposed to take care of you, after all.”

“So you like the idea of rutting like rabbits? Jake asked, already knowing the answer. They’d already made love several times, now.

Annalisa didn’t answer. Instead, she looked away, appearing to enjoy the view of the park, so he wouldn’t see the gleefully victorious grin she was unable to keep from her face.

“That’s a nice spot, Annalisa said, pointing to a grassy area. Let’s go sit there.”

“In ten minutes, class lets out and that whole knoll will be covered with students.”

“Oh. Well, then, we’d better claim our spot now, then, Annalisa replied, and stepped out ahead of him.

Jake trotted up beside her to catch up. Then sat down when she did. From somewhere, a blanket had appeared, and they were sitting on it. Then Jake remembered that this was, after all, a dream sequence. It wasn’t really happening.

Except that it was. Annalisa reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt. Since she was already naked, he didn’t actually have anything do to except wait patiently while she worked his clothes off him. He reached up and gently pinched one of her hardening nipples, but she laughed and slapped his hand away, then finished opening his shirt.

Stretching out beside him, she patted the blanket, indicating that he should lie down. When he did, Annalisa sat back up and loosened his belt. After pulling down his zipper, she easily slid his slacks down past his knees, then lay back down beside him.

“Now, we’re in exactly the same position in this dream that we are on the bed, Annalisa informed him, a wicked grin on her face.

She reached up and ran her fingers across his stomach. He felt it, but it felt strange. Then he understood.

Annalisa’s real self was touching his real self just like she was, right now, in the dream except that the timing and the touching were just a little off. He could see and feel her fingers but where he saw them was not where he felt them.

His heart leaped with a sudden excitement that he didn’t fully understand. But he knew that he wanted what this goddess was offering him more than he’d wanted anything for quite a while.

Annalisa stroked and played with his body; soft, pleasant sounds coming from her throat as she aroused him. Then he could feel her lips on his cock. In this strange waking dream, she was using her hand to arouse him further, but he could feel her lips, soft, hot, and wet; her breath causing intense arousal as she sucked air past his hardness and into her throat.

Then he understood what it was that excited him. This alluring beauty was making love to him twice at the same time. He was experiencing twice the arousal and twice the sensation that he usually did. He had two bodies that two goddesses were seducing and he had no doubts that he was being seduced.

She moved to climb up on him and he felt her real body doing the same. Jake realized now that she was deliberately throwing off the timing of the two images so that he could experience both of her at the same time and know that he was doing exactly that.

“Clever girl he managed to pant before she sealed his lips with hers.

From somewhere in the back of his mind, he suddenly thought of raptors tearing his belly out while he was still alive, then she sank down, sheathing his cock with her own body and the real life sensations of lovemaking took over his mind.

He felt her pick up his hands and place them against her giggling breasts. She squeezed his hands, making him squeeze her nipples in return. After a few tries, Jake managed to make his real body squeeze her real breasts while doing that at the same time in this surreal dream state.

“You’re getting the idea, Annalisa congratulated him, then put her attention back on their lovemaking.

Jake moved his hands down to her thighs, while in his dream, he continued to caress her marvelous breasts, holding them steady and feeling them stretch and loosen in the palms of his hands as she moved.

He began squeezing her thighs, his thumbs concentrating on that sweet, soft indentation of flesh that seemed to direct a man’s attention to the very center of a woman’s core. As he squeezed, he felt her flood of girl-cum inside her vagina as she shook with orgasm. He wished he could see her real body as she came. Then suddenly, he could.

Both images were suddenly superimposed, the real Annalisa with back arched in orgasm, whimpering pitifully into the darkened bedroom, and the dream Annalisa, more or less just sitting on his hard cock, her attention trapped for the moment in her real body’s orgasm.

After a moment, she moved again.

“Now who’s being clever, she smiled down at him. You are like making love to an octopus all those hands everywhere on my body. I’ve never come so hard.”

A smattering of applause interrupted the two of them as they lay on the grassy knoll. Looking around, Jake discovered several of his fellow students from the class he’d missed watching them. One was even filming them with an 8mm camera. He laughed and suddenly in his mind, he knew how to dissolve the dream image. He had been creating it himself ever since Annalisa’s orgasm anyway.

Annalisa blinked, suddenly finding herself back in the bedroom with Jake. Her body felt flushed with the afterglow of sex and she simply gazed down at Jake with pure adoration. Then, moving to climb off of him, she realized that he was still hard.

Grinning in anticipation, she began humping up and down on him again. She quickly tired, though, and lay down on his chest, content to just have him hard and solid inside her. Every once in a while, she would move or he would, in order to maintain enough sexual presence so that he remained hard.

She was glad, now, of her training as a shaman all those centuries ago. The control of her body (this body, not the one she had back then) became much more effective as she remembered and performed the physical and mental exercises that had once given her such exquisite control of her sexuality that she had come to be regarded as Kami by her people.

Flowing her renewed sensuality through Jake, now, she became able to help him maintain his arousal with virtually no movement at all; her pure sexual presence all he required of her. If they would go to sleep like this, they would awaken in the same unsated state they were in right now.

Gently coaxing his mind and body, Annalisa kept him in a semiconscious state of arousal for another two-and-a-half hours before he finally exploded into her pussy. When he came, he spurted cum into her for a full minute, nearly crushing her ribs with his arms wrapped tightly around her. His cock shuddered and spasmed for another minute or more as he continued to orgasm even though he had no ejaculate left to offer her.

Afterward, he held her tightly in his arms for several more minutes as he sobbed uncontrollably into her hair and shoulder. When he finally released her, he fell into a deep sleep.

Annalisa knew she would never lose him, now. He would willingly die before he would ever give her up. Her sexual presence was so powerful that a trained Kyushu assassin had stopped in mid-strike his sword poised to take her head from her body and had offered her instead the gift of his own sexuality with the greatest adoration, along with his life-blood when she had sucked him dry.

“Oh, there you are! Elaine said, sounding more cheerful than she felt as she entered her father’s bedchamber. I’ve been looking all What’s wrong, Sister?”

Béla raised her weary head from her father’s chest. She had been lying next to him, hugging his lean, alien body to hers.

“He won’t wake from his dreams, Béla whimpered, almost crying. I can’t reach him. He’s shut me out.”

Elaine dropped down to her knees and wrapped her arms around Béla’s narrow waist. He has shut me out, too, Darling. Soon he will leave us forever and find a new existence.”

“No! Béla protested, her voice weak from crying. I’ll order the Praetor to save him! We can grow a new body for him one like Hank’s. He can live again, and be free!”

“It’s not what he wants, Al Béla, Elaine said, softly trying to soothe her distraught sister. His world is gone. Everything he remembers has perished, thousands and thousands of years gone past. He has nothing left to live for.”

Béla hugged her sister and sobbed helplessly into her shoulder.

“Let him go, Darling, Elaine whispered. Let him find a new happiness.”

“He will be happy with us in a body that can fly! Béla whispered through her tears, determined not to lose him.

‘Again

“What? Béla asked, rising up from Elaine’s tear-soaked sarong.

“I didn’t say anything, Elaine replied.

‘My daughters

“Oh my God! He’s awake Béla nearly shrieked. Father!”

She twisted back around and wrapped her arms around him again, hugging him tightly.

Sibilius weakly brought his hand around to grip her shoulder and pulled back gently, asking her to release her tight grip from around his ribs.

“I’ve not been in such close physical contact with any other for many, many years, my Child, he gently told her, his voice rasping as though it had not been used for a long time.

“Father Béla begged him.

“Shhhh, Child, Sibilius interrupted. Such tears from you are unseemly. I have lived almost eleven thousand years. I have known the greatest and most wonderful love any man could ask for. I have many great accomplishments and have lived a rich and full life.

“My life’s work is complete, Sibilius continued, his voice weary from the effort of speaking. The final project is finished and my work is done. I can see in your mind your desire for me to continue my existence in one of my own hybrid creations. This I cannot do, my child, for I carry the weight of too many deaths inside my soul. My final act my death will cleanse my soul of these losses so that I may begin anew, someplace else.”

“No Béla whispered, tears flowing freely down her face. I don’t want you to go.”

“You’re being selfish, my daughter, Sibilius smiled at her. At the beginning and the end of each life, a soul has nothing. With each new beginning comes new potential. It is something to which I look forward. But to begin life anew a life must end. That is, after all, the purpose of death to free the soul from the anguish of a life lived too long. It has ever been our way which you would already know if you had studied our teachings as well as our hard sciences.”

“You can’t make me believe you have nothing, Father, Béla pleaded with him. You have my deepest love and the love of all my sisters your daughters.”

“None the less, Child, it will soon be time for me to go, Sibilius sighed, closing his eyes Leave me now I must rest awhile.”

Béla stifled a sob, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He was already asleep again; his mind journeying back to a sun-warmed meadow at the base of a magnificent mountain on a world which no longer existed, with a beloved woman dead these last four thousand years.

Béla pulled herself out of the image and fled the room.

When she became aware of where she was, Béla found that she was back in the bedroom with Jake and his new pet, Annalisa. Frowning slightly, she approached the two bodies on the bed. They were both asleep, yet they were in the middle of making love, Annalisa’s taut body sitting yet sleeping, unmoving, skewered on Jake. There was an incredibly intense sexual aura surrounding them both. Then Jake arched his back and began radiating the most incredibly powerful orgasm that Béla had ever felt flow from him. Jake’s orgasm lasted at least two minutes, then he had sobbed uncontrollably into Annalisa’s bodice as his soul was rendered into pieces by the intense relief she’d allowed him.

Béla didn’t remember leaving. She didn’t remember closing the door behind her. She found herself outside, walking alone by the long, ugly storage buildings which comprised most of Southern Depot. The crystal of the Southern Sun was beginning its afternoon glow, and people around her were hastening inside.

Béla stared at the magnificent crystal as it became too bright to distinguish the crystalline pattern of its surface, then became so bright that it pained her eyes to look at it. Still she did not look away, wanting the intense whiteness and the purity of its heat to burn away all her unhappiness and misery.

‘To cleanse my soul so that I may begin anew

Her father’s voice speaking the raw truth of life and death of the reason for existence in the first place.

‘To begin anew

She didn’t remember shedding her sarong or forming her wings to stand stretched out and naked before the cleansing fire that burned into her body and soul. At some point she became aware of the fact that her eyes were boiling. She could feel her bodily fluids rush bubbling from the fierce, cruel blisters that were beginning to appear all over her body her face, her breasts and belly, even the fronts of her thighs.

‘To begin life anew, a life must end. That is the purpose of death; to free the soul from the anguish of a life lived too long.’

Béla now knew that she had lived too long, and now only wished to be free from all of it. The crisp, cooked flesh of her wings caught fire. The flames quickly spread to her face and hair. With one final scream of pure rapture, her body burst into flame. A few minutes later, her blackened skeletal frame, no longer supported by muscular tension, collapsed to the ground.

End Part 3

Chapter 22

The Enemy

“I think you do have a chance at pulling this off, Ron, but it is going to be quite risky. Do you truly understand, you have a very limited window of time in which to make this work? Lars, Karen, and Linda were sitting with Ron as they discussed his plan for saving Kumiko.

“Yes, I understand that, but it’s the only option we’ve got left. Everyone says I can’t beat Mordreon alone. The Guardians are willing to help, but only if we have a plan that will work. This is the best chance we’ve got. Hell, it’s the only chance we’ve got. Ron was pacing the room like a caged animal. Now that he had a plan, he wanted to get after it. But, his first plan had failed because he’d not considered it long enough, he was sure. He could not afford for this plan to fail as well. As things were going, Kumiko had maybe 2 weeks left, if that.

“Can we do it, Ron? I mean, can we really beat him? Karen wondered.

“No, Karen, we can’t beat him. He’s too goddamned strong for that. But, hopefully we can trick him. The Guardians should be able to beat him back after he’s lost interest, but I can’t guarantee anything. After getting no response, Ron added, “So, we’re agreed? This is what we go with. There was consent in the room. “Fine. Let’s make this thing work. Linda, I need you to get one of the bedrooms ready, I’ve written down everything you’ll need to do. I’ve got something I need to do.”

The group split up to get things ready for their mission. That’s exactly what it is, too. A mission. This is our last chance at obtaining our objective, and we’ve got to make sure the planning stages are all done right.

But he had a short task to finish first. He just couldn’t leave it alone.

He pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. He knew she was home, though there was no sign of life in the house. He walked up and rang the doorbell. It took a long time before the door opened, and there she stood.

“Yes? Oh, it’s you. Did you come to get your jacket back?”

“No. Ron handed her a card, which she took, and looked at quizzically. She then looked back to him. He explained, “In the near future, you may need a place of safety or refuge. Go to the address on that card, and give it to whomever opens the door. They will let you in, and protect you. I cannot tell you more than that.”

She was stunned, and all she managed was, “But why?”

“Because as much as you needed me last night, I needed you. To help me remember what it was all about. I know none of this makes any sense to you. Someday, it will. I’ve taken as much of your time as I should. Have a good evening, ma’am. Without another word, Ron turned and walked back to his truck. Well, that’s out of the way. At least she should be safe when the fighting starts.

Ron returned home to find that preparations were well underway.

“I need to go back to the Spirit Realm. We’ve got to make sure the Guardians will agree to this,” Ron told Lars.

“Would you like me to come with you? he asked.

“No, they don’t know you, and I’m not sure how they’d react. Besides, I’m going into friendly territory, I hope.”

“Good luck.”

Ron settled into a recliner, and leaned back. He settled his mind with a breathing exercise, and focused on moving beyond the body. As his mind began to float, he turned all his energy back in upon itself, and suddenly found himself in the Plane of the Watchers.

“Hello, Master,” Jessica said. Ron turned to see her, as beautiful as ever. He opened his arms, and she came to him. They stood like that for some time, until Ron realized that he didn’t really have time to waste.

“Jess, I need to get back to Guardian Hall. We think we’ve come up with a way to save Kumiko and the baby.”

Jessica nodded, and turned to lead the way. It was only a short distance to Guardian Hall from where he had appeared.

“Jess, why didn’t I appear at the seashore? It’s where you had me leave from.”

“Master, the seashore is where the Watchers spend most of their time. You can appear anywhere in the Plane. Most likely, you appeared where you did, because that was where I was. Now that you know the way, you can appear there anytime. Sir, we are at the gate path. I am not allowed to go up there, so you must leave me here. I will wait for you. She gave him a brief but warm kiss, and then sat down upon a large rock.

Ron turned and headed up the path. He was met at the gate by a large guard. This was new to him.

“Your name and business? the guard demanded.

“Ron Chaffey, I am here to see the Three Sisters. They invited me to return.”

Though the guard gave him a very odd look, he summoned a young girl to take him up to the Hall. The girl was very quiet, and did not volunteer a conversation. Ron was lost in thought, and so didn’t really notice. Not until he had entered the Hall and noticed the strained atmosphere, and the look on Calliope’s face, did he think something was amiss.

“Ma’am? Is something wrong? Has something happened?”

Calliope’s face darkened with grief. “Yes, Ron. And I’m trying very hard not to blame you for it. You see, Valeria and Callista were taken by demons while they were out patrolling the Spirit Realm. The demons were part of Mordreon’s band. We can only conclude that Mordreon is trying to dissuade us from helping you.”

Calliope’s pronouncement hit Ron like a hammer. He staggered, and struggled to catch his breath. “How how long? Why didn’t you have Jessica tell me?”

“It’s been two Earth days, which is nearly a year in our time. I can only imagine the horrible, disgusting…. Calliope broke off, tears running down her face. Ron wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but she composed herself. “We thought to tell you, but Jessica told us you were in the middle of devising a plan to save your friend, Kumiko, and we didn’t wish to distract you further.”

“Damn it,” Ron said. He sat in a nearby chair. His voice was deathly quiet, but then he nearly shouted, “Damn it! Why is it that everything I touch falls apart! This time, it was Calliope who went to Ron. She wrapped an arm around him until his mood quieted. Ron felt a strangely warm attachment to this woman he didn’t know. Then something struck Ron. “You said Val and Callista what about Minerva?”

“Minerva was not with them. She was still here, at Guardian Hall. She is punishing herself for not being with her sisters. I have been unable to get her to eat or sleep since it happened. She flies into a rage anytime anyone comes near her. I fear the situation is hopeless.”

“May I see her? I need to apologize. You were right to blame me, this is my fault.”

Calliope led him down a hallway, and then another. She pointed him to a door. “She’s in there. I don’t want to seem cowardly, but I can’t bear to see my daughter like that. Please, help her! The pleading in her eyes tore at Ron’s heart. He nodded, and headed for the door.

The door was massive. It was carved with a battle scene, with creatures Ron didn’t even want to guess at. He thought to knock, but knew instinctively that was not the right approach. He quietly opened the door and walked in.

Minerva was standing resolutely, staring out the window at the sky. As he walked toward her, she showed no sign of noticing him. Once he was within range, however, she turned and struck at him wildly.

“This is your fault! she screamed. Ron ducked and twisted away from her attacks. He didn’t dare to hurt her, and he couldn’t find a way to stop her until she’d vented on him. She swung on him repeatedly, missing in her blind rage, screaming epithets and telling him what she thought of him, and humans in general.

Eventually, the rage started to burn itself out. Ron had stood and taken the abuse, partly because he agreed with her assessment of blame, but mostly because he knew she needed to lash out at something, anything. As she stood there, beating against his chest, he quietly reached up and grabbed her hands. He pulled her hands together and up, holding them against his chest, so she would look him in the eyes. The hurt he saw there was enough to break his heart. But he had to get her back to a better frame of mind first.

“So, it’s my fault. Okay, so what? Does that fix things? You’ve been standing here for a year, blaming me. Has that accomplished anything? No, it hasn’t. Your sisters, my friends, are in trouble. What are we going to do about it? He saw the defiance flare in her eyes. Good.

“What did you expect me to do, go up against Mordreon alone?”

“There are who-knows how many Guardians in this place. Take some troops and go get them!”

“I can’t. A decision like that has to be made by the Judges.”

“And? Ron prompted.

“And what? They have not made a decision like that in eons. Why would they risk that kind of trouble for my sisters?”

“Did you bother to ask? He didn’t let her answer when he saw the look in her eyes. “I didn’t think so. Never assume the worst, or that’s exactly what you’ll get. I learned that lesson the hard way. Can anyone ask the Judges?”

“Yes, but it’s a very formal thing. You’ve got to know the rules, and the procedures, and and I don’t know them. She began sobbing against his chest. Now was time for support.

“Can we learn them? he asked kindly.

“There are books,” she sobbed, “But it will take too long to memorize it all…” Her entire body was shaking now.

“Not for me, it won’t,” he said, “It’s a skill I’ve mastered. It will only take me as long to learn it as it will to read it. We’ve got to try.”

Minerva looked up at him, her eyes rimmed with tears, but with a glimmer of hope. “Do you really think do we have a chance?”

“There’s always a chance, Minerva. You can’t ever give up trying. Once you’ve given up trying, there’s no chance at all. Until then, there’s always some hope of success.”

She melted against him, and he let go of her hands. She wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. Again she looked up at him, with a look he had long come to recognize.

She led him over to her bed. It was very Spartan, very much less decorated than the room he had first been brought to. As she walked, she undid the sash around her, and dropped it to the floor. Upon reaching the bed, she turned to him, her robe unfastened.

“It was unfair of me, of us, to blame you for this. After all, we brought you here, you didn’t ask to come. It’s the noon hour, so the books we need are not available just now. Please, lie with me, and let me apologize properly.”

Though Ron was a little dismayed by the formality of her statement, her body had most of his attention. Her robe wasn’t open very far, and so revealed nothing, but his imagination was filling in most of the details. He embraced her, and she tilted her head up to meet his mouth. As their lips touched, Ron reached inside her robe at waist level. He moved his hands around to her ass, and pulled her gently to him. Once again, her body melted into his. Ron slowly edged his hands up and to the sides, parting her robe away from her body. As his hands reached her shoulders, she shrugged the garment off, allowing it to fall to the ground. The young woman was now completely nude, but Ron was still fully dressed. This would soon change, however.

Minerva broke the kiss, and pulled Ron’s T-shirt off him. She worked her way down his chest, kissing and nipping the flesh as she went. When she reached his nipples, she tongued each one extensively, setting Ron all a-tingle with pleasure. She continued on down, past his navel, until she got to his belt. She unfastened his belt and pants, and pushed them down and off his legs. She took a more careful hold of his briefs, and slowly peeled these off his body. Now they were both nude, and Minerva took Ron’s dick gently in hand. She blew a warm breath over its length, watching it twitch and lengthen. She flicked her tongue gently along the underside of his shaft, seeing it stiffen as she played. She placed sloppy kisses from the base all the way up the shaft until she reached the head of his dick. Then she engulfed him, all the way down her throat, full length until her nose was buried in his pubic hairs.

Ron was in so much pleasure it was painful. Minerva began sucking him off with all her strength. She eased him out of her mouth slowly, and then plunged him back in to the full depth. Ron was shuddering with the ecstasy of it. He rested his hands lightly on her head, but she needed no encouragement, she was fully into what she was doing.

Minerva continued this treatment for some time, Ron doing his best to hold off his impending blow. But he just wasn’t able, and finally he spurted his load down her throat, and she took it all, and kept sucking, as if to find more.

When she finally pulled off him, he was fully hard once more. She stood up, took one long look at his rock hard cock, and then she jumped onto him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. His cock was nestled in her pussy fur, ready to enter her. She said, “Enough with the formal crap. Fuck me, dammit!”

Ron reached down, and adjusted himself so his dick was properly positioned. Then Minerva allowed herself to sink onto his rod. She let out a loud “Oh! as her body fully engulfed his member. Ron staggered over to the bed, and dropped down onto it, Minerva still wrapped tightly around him. He started humping into her, pumping himself in and out of her warm, tight hole as fast as he could.

Minerva was screaming and thrashing in the pleasure of the moment. She pushed him to higher and higher levels, with her voice and with her body. Suddenly, her body exploded in orgasm, her voice resounding through the room as she shrieked her climax. Ron held on for dear life, and kept pounding away, extending her orgasm as long as he could.

Once she started to come down from her peak, she looked at him lustfully, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Once they broke the kiss, she said, “I want you in my ass. Now.”

Ron pulled himself out of her, and flipped her over roughly. He positioned himself at her rosebud, and started to press in slowly. He was too slow for her, however, and she began to push back as hard as she could. Very quickly, Ron was fully buried in her ass, his stomach resting against her ass cheeks.

“Fuck my ass, you stud! Fuck me good! Minerva growled, like a cat in heat. Ron began rutting into her ass, moving in and out as fast as his body would take him. He reached up and grasped her tits, mauling them as he fucked her ass.

He was not far from his own orgasm this way, and she was quickly approaching another. He took hold of her nipples and twisted lightly, sending a twinge of pain and pleasure through her body. It was enough to send her over the edge, and once again her shrieks of pleasure filled the room. Her ass clamped down on his prick, and that was enough for him. He shot his full load deep into her ass.

They were both exhausted when they came down, so they lay down on the bed for some rest. They both fell asleep, resting in each other’s arms.

“These books read like well like law books, I suppose,” Ron said, chuckling. “Of course, that’s exactly what they are, so I don’t see why I’m surprised. He’d been reading for the better part of two Spirit days, and was almost through the information he needed to have to confront the Judges.

“Yes, but you’d better make sure you get the formalities right, otherwise they won’t even listen to you,” Minerva warned. She’d been with him for the entire two days, passing him books to read, and pointing out the relevant passages. “A Guardian hasn’t been in front of the Judges to make this kind of request in my lifetime, which is a pretty long time.”

“Well, I think I have the procedures down. I’m looking for arguments for the prosecution’, I think it would be called. I’m looking for stuff that will convince them we’re right.”

She passed him another book. “This is the only book on demon law we have. It was a very small book. “There aren’t very many rules that demons will follow.”

Ron glanced through it quickly, looking for sections that might apply. “Ah-ha! Found it! He read through the section speedily, and then went back and studied it carefully, memorizing every word. Then he turned to Minerva. “I think we’re ready. How do we get to the court, anyway?”

“We walk, how else? She smiled at him. “Come on, let’s go get Mother. She’ll want to go with us.”

They entered the great hallway of the Council of Judges. Standing before them was a massive Spirit, nine feet tall.

“He’s a Centurion,” Minerva whispered. “He guards the Council. You’ll have to start by telling him your business.”

The guard stared down at the three of them expectantly. Ron stood erect and said, “Ronald Chaffey, representative of the Guardian Society and the Earth Realm, requests an audience with the Council of Judges to discuss an issue of importance to both Earth, and the Guardians. Will you please inform them that we are here?”

The guard was unimpressed. “Wait here,” he said, his voice booming through the hall. He walked off, leaving them standing alone. They said nothing as they waited, all of them too nervous to talk or joke.

When the guard returned, he was accompanied by a much less imposing individual. “Hello, my name is Jarvis. I understand you wish to see the Judges. May I ask what the issue to be brought before the court is concerning? The man had a sniveling expression, and walked quickly and quietly, shoulders slightly hunched. He reminded Ron of a mouse.

“I wish to discuss with the Judges An act of war. Ron was gratified to see the terrified look on the man’s face.

“Oh! Please, come this way.”

As they walked , Calliope put her hand on Ron’s arm to get his attention. Seeing the questioning look on her face, he gave her a reassuring smile and a wink. She shrugged, and they continued to walk.

Jarvis led them to a set of double doors, closed and guarded by two more Centurions. The Centurions parted at Jarvis approach, and pulled the doors open. The four of them entered the Council Chamber.

Jarvis drew himself up as straight as he could as he announced, “Your Honors, there appears before you a representative of the Earth Realm who wishes to speak with you about…” Here, Jarvis voice stumbled. He cleared his throat, and continued shakily, “About an act of war.”

The Judge in the center of the large bench before them spoke, his voice sonorous and clear. “Let him speak.”

Jarvis quickly motioned them forward as he disappeared into a corner to be away from them all.

Ron stepped up, glanced at his two companions, and, seeing their support, began his speech.

“Your Honors, my name is Ronald Chaffey. I come before you as a representative of the Earth Realm and the Society of Guardian Hall. I come before you today to speak of a most serious matter, committed by a band of demons against the Earth, and Guardian Hall. This act was the kidnapping of two prominent Guardians, known to you as Valeria and Callista Calliopis. These individuals, while performing their normal duties, were abducted by a group of demons under the leadership of Mordreon, an eighth-level demon presently affecting the Earth Realm.

“The request being made of the Council at this time is that your Honors would release the Centurions and the Guardians to assault the stronghold of Mordreon in the Demon Realm, and to rescue our comrades, Valeria and Callista. I know that the Council will not make such a decision lightly, or in haste, so let me please outline for you why we believe that this is the proper course of action at this time.

“First, the rule of law states that an armed assault may be used to remove a destabilizing influence to the Realms, either Earth or otherwise. Your Honors, in that these two individuals are great supporters of the Earth Realm, and have invested a great deal of energy into protecting its positive course, anything that bars them from continuing their work by its very nature destabilizes the Realm. Further, as I have been told that I am an important part of the future of Earth Realm, I must speak for myself. I consider these two individuals friends, and, as such, I feel compelled to rescue them at any cost. Since I would certainly be destroyed in such an attempt, and my destruction would be a serious disruption to the stability of Earth Realm, I ask you to consider this in your decision.

“Second, the law states that anything having a severe negative impact on the Earth Realm directly is liable to a forceful resolution. As I have pointed out already, these individuals were staunch protectors of the Earth Realm, and there is serious negative impact being done simply by their absence. We cannot know how many humans have already been harmed by their absence over what has been only two Earth days. I would remind you, respectfully, that you have an obligation to the positive course of the Earth Realm, and that this affront has caused a serious negative turn.

“Further, the law states that any action that causes a severe negative impact on any Spirit Society requires a forceful response. Your Honors, if you had been to Guardian Hall in the last Spirit Year, you would have seen how distraught their society is. You would have noticed the increased vigilance, the overwhelming security precautions they have been forced to take. The very nature of the Guardians task requires an optimistic outlook, and this has been severely damaged by the loss of their two comrades. In the name of the Society of Guardian Hall, I am stating a formal request for assistance at this time.

“Continuing, it should be pointed out that, by holding these two Guardians for an extended period of time, which the law states as any longer than two Spirit Days, the Mordreon band has broken Spirit Law. Valeria and Callista have been held for an entire Spirit Year, your Honors! That is nearly 200 times as long as the law allows for. Since the order of any society is kept together not only by its laws, but by the enforcement of those laws, it behooves us to take action in the upholding of this law.

“It should also be noted, your Honors, that, by taking prisoners in any form of battle or contest, the Mordreon band has executed an act of war, as established by the code of the Demon Rules, section 12, which states that under no circumstances are prisoners to be taken and held captive, but are to be destroyed or driven off in any hostile action or unprovoked attack. Your Honors, the Demons have disdained your authority, and have chosen even to ignore their own rules in attacking the Guardian Society in such a cowardly manner. Since they have chosen to conduct an act of war, it is only appropriate and right for us to respond in kind. I would ask again for your permission to send forth the Centurions and Guardians to take this matter in hand.

“Finally, your Honors, and I know your time is valuable, so I will take very little more of it, I would ask you to consider one last point. According to the book of Spirit Law, the job of the Council of Judges is to preside over the positive flow of events in all of the Realms. The Earth Realm, The After Realms, and, of course, the Spirit Realm. Your Honors, how can you, as fair and honest guarantors of justice, attempt to preside over the positive flow of these other realms, when there is a serious negative flow in your own? I mean no disrespect by this, I only intend to show you how inequitable the present situation is, so that you may have all the facts before you as you make your decision.

“Your Honors, as the representative of the Earth Realm, and the Society of Guardian Hall, I thank you for your time, and we await your judgment.”

Ron stepped down off the speaking platform, but remained beside it in the event of questions. There were none, so he returned to his seat. The central Judge intoned, “Thank you, Mr. Chaffey, for your passion and your eloquence. This Council will recess to chambers to discuss the issues before us. Please wait here for our return. Jarvis will provide you with refreshment, if you so desire. Court in recess. The Judges rose silently, and walked to the side door leading to chambers. None of them looked at him as they left, which caused Ron to worry.

“It was a great speech,” Calliope said.

“But was it enough? Ron responded.

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

They waited for only a short time, before a young lady approached them. “Mr. Chaffey? The Judges would like to see you in chambers, please.”

Ron looked to his companions. There had been nothing in the law books about this. Calliope said, “I don’t know what they want, Ron, but it’s best not to keep them waiting.”

Ron followed the lady through the side door into the Judges Chamber. There, all the Judges were seated at a table, a little less formally than they had been in the Council room. The head justice spoke up.

“Mr. Chaffey, please sit down. Would you like some refreshment? Ron indicated that he did not, so the Judge continued, “It is very unusual for a human to make a request of the Judges. Actually, anymore it is unusual of anyone to make a request. I think sometimes that we have been ruling too long. Anyway, that is neither here nor there. We had a couple of questions, of a more personal nature, to ask you, and we didn’t want you to be hindered by the presence of others.”