Later that night

Later, as Kim sleeps the sleep of the carnally sated, you lay beside her, wondering who your enemy is—trying to associate a face with the general dread that you feel when you are alone with your thoughts. You cc=an take care of yourself, yet those you care about are ****. Kim, and Desiree, and Marie, young mothers-to-be, mothers of YOUR children, are unprotected. You caress Kim’s placid face, and realize he have a duty to do more than just shield their physical bodies with fancy machines rebuilt from military hardware. You set about building walls around Kim’s mind—walls that will yield only to you. Even as you finish work on Kim’s mental shields, you realize you can never let your own guard down. A foe with telepathic agents can make agents out of anyone. You kiss Kim on the forehead as your work is completed, and allow yourself a measure of satisfaction in your blissful sigh before tying on your robe and heading to the back porch for some air. Extending your consciousness outward, you scan for any hostile minds, or even the signature you are learning to recognize in a shielded mind—they show up almost as holes in the surrounding mental ambiance. Nothing. You quest toward the source of the last attack—the base you have penetrated only through trickery since then. No one comes or goes, and you get no input, other than a strange metallic taste in your mouth whenever your thoughts try to penetrate the shielding.

Mechanical? you think.

“That would be my guess.” Dak’s image comments, appearing at your side.

I wish I had a sanctuary like that. You think, hating yourself for the bitter twinge of envy you feel.

"Well..." Dark starts.