Battle of the Ring (8 page)

“Can we beat him?”

“Well, we have a good chance. A Fortress and a Starwolf carrier are
supposed to be evenly matched, so it depends upon whether you and Trace can
outmaneuver him,” Skerri said, and looked at her. “They say that
you have fought Starwolves before and won. Can you do it again?”

“That depends, I suppose,” Maeken said with exaggerated
casualness. “I have never fought Velmeran before, so I cannot say.”

“How did you do it before?”

“Trade secret,” Maeken said with irritating finality. “I
will tell you one secret, however. If you want to advance, you have to collect
as many command secrets as you can and hoard them jealously. Have you heard the
saying that there must be a secret to doing that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there is. A fair number of secrets, and you need to collect as
many as you possibly can.”

“I see,” Skerri replied seriously, believing every word of it.
“But how do I go about getting these secrets?”

“Oh, you get secrets from those who have them,” she explained officiously.
“Your superior officers have the secrets you want, of course. Be loyal
and helpful, and you will be rewarded with a secret or two. Also, secrets can
be bought with other secrets. But you have to know the difference between real
secrets and gossip. Gossip is fool’s gold; it sounds good to other fools,
but it has no value to those who know better.”

“I see,” Skerri said thoughtfully. “How do I learn any
secrets?”

“You already have,” Maeken assured him. “I just told you
the most important secret of all.”

“Yes, I see what you mean,” Skerri agreed with growing
enthusiasm. “Thank you, Captain!”

The first mate hurried off, leaving Maeken to bite her tongue to keep from
laughing aloud. But her purpose was accomplished; she had certainly impressed
him and won his admiration and loyalty, and he would prove to be a mine of
useful information.

“So I ask you, was there ever a ship’s Captain smarter than
me?” she inquired aloud.

“Not in my experience,” a mechanical voice replied promptly.

Maeken glanced up impatiently. “Who asked you?”

“You did, of course,” the ship responded in a voice that seemed
to hold a note of self-satisfaction. Maeken was wise enough to avoid
responding. Controlling people was an easy matter, but a computer was something
altogether new. How did one apply psychology to a machine?

Velmeran stirred, waking suddenly but gently. He opened his eyes but saw
nothing, for the cabin was completely dark. But other senses told him that he
was not alone. Consherra lay wrapped in his arms, her warm body pressed tightly
against his own, while he lay in her comforting embrace. Although he could not
see her, her face was so close to his own that their small noses touched. He
snuggled even closer against her, feeling very comfortable and secure.

When Consherra did not respond, he began to suspect that she slept as well.
That surprised him at first, until he considered how worn she must have been
from worrying for him... and from that first-rate fit she had pitched. He ran
his lower hand gently over the firm muscles of her double shoulders, down the
bony inward curve of her back and the softness of her rump, then nuzzled her
gently and kissed her in the darkness. She stirred, then tightened her own
embrace, returning his kiss while running one of her own hands down the tight
muscles of his hip and upper thigh.

“Sherry?” Velmeran asked, almost cautiously.

She laughed. “Who did you expect?”

“I am never certain anymore,” he teased.

Even though they could not see a thing, Velmeran was sure that Consherra was
glaring at him. The long moment of silence that followed was certainly ominous.
But, in truth, she was really just amazed at him for saying such a thing.

“Oh, ho! Our good pack leader thinks that he is funny!” she
exclaimed in mock sarcasm. “I suppose that you have been making
comparisons between me and your duty mates.”

“Of course.”

“Indeed? And what have you determined?”

“That you are the only one who can make me happy,” he said with
that peculiar innocence he possessed, assuring her that he made a statement of
fact of what would have been simple flattery from anyone else. She nestled
closer against him, touched by his sincerity.

“Well, you have better luck with your duty mates,” she said as
casually as she could. “I have been wondering why we have no child of our
own.”

“I was not aware that you desired a child,” Velmeran said
simply. Female Kelvessan found it nearly impossible to conceive if they did not
desire it. They could, in essence, practice contraception by force of will. If
Consherra was not pregnant after two years, it was only natural to assume that
she preferred matters that way.

“For a long time I did not,” she answered.

“Then what is the problem?” he asked with frustrating
simplicity.

“I just wanted to know if you desired a child. A child that would be
your own as much as mine, different from your duty matings. And so your
decision as well.”

“So? Do you recall the first time you took me to bed two years ago? I
knew then that little wolflings could come of it.”

“Does that mean yes?”

“If that is what you want,” he said, and laughed at himself.
“I really do know better than to say ‘I want what you want.’
But sometimes that is a valid answer, like right now.”

“The prospect does not frighten you?” she asked skeptically.

Velmeran laughed again. “You know me well! Of course it frightens me,
with my talent for worrying. I worry about the ones that are not even supposed
to be mine. Still, the one thing that does frighten me most...”

“Yes?”

“That I might turn out to be the type of nagging, overprotective
parent my mother is.”

Consherra laughed, aware that she was being teased. Velmeran jested about
the things that were important to him. She thought that he was privately
delighted with the prospect of a child that he could call his own, much to her
relief. She pulled the heavy blanket tight about them. Shipboard temperatures
were low, uncomfortable by human standards. And the Kelvessan themselves found
it a bit chilly when their powerful metabolisms were running low.

“Now?” she asked uncertainly. “I know that it might not be
the right time... “

“No, there is no better time than now,” Velmeran insisted with
sudden urgency. She had reminded him of his own predictions, and especially the
part that he had not told her. He knew his duty, that he needed to sire as many
little ones as he could in case he did not return. And he wanted to have at
least one child by his chosen mate, the child he thought would be most like
himself.

“You! Come with me!”

Consherra glanced up from her console, startled, as Dyenlerra ascended
the steps to the upper bridge. Consherra knew trouble when she saw it, but she
could not imagine what this could be about. Dyenlerra was politically neutral
as far as the management of this ship was concerned, and Consherra was herself
the only serious troublemaker among the senior officers. Mystified, she
hastened to follow.

“Well, what brings you into my domain?” Mayelna asked, equally
mystified, as she glanced up from her own console.

“Business, of course,” the medic replied promptly. Then she
turned to Valthyrra, who had folded her boom to rotate her camera pod around
into the upper bridge. “I recall hearing some time ago that you were in
need of a visit to an airdock for overhaul. Is that true?”

“Ah well. So it is,” the ship admitted regretfully. “I
have been planning to make the arrangements soon.”

“Make them now, immediately,” Dyenlerra ‘ordered sharply.
“Consider that a medical order, if you prefer.”

“Indeed?” Valthyrra said, at a complete loss. “Since when
has my health become a matter for your concern? It is usually Tresha’s
province as chief engineer to bore me with the details of my decline.”

“I am not concerned with your health, you pretentious pile of scrap
metal!” Dyenlerra snapped. “I am thinking of Velmeran. He is about
to blow a gasket under the stress of his demands. Those months in airdock will
give him the freedom to rest.”

“Is it that bad?” Mayelna asked.

“Commander, Kelvessan are not easily knocked out of their orbits by
anything, but it can happen,” the medic explained. “Velmeran is
under tremendous pressure, dealing with the responsibilities of command as well
as trying to make some sense of his new talents. He is also his own worst
enemy, as seriously as he takes his responsibilities, both assumed and
real.”

“Yes, of course,” Mayelna agreed. “I have always thought
that he takes too much upon himself, but we are fortunate that he does.”

“Well, it is not at all fortunate for him,” Dyenlerra declared,
and frowned at her own thoughts. “This accident gave me a chance to run a
final series of tests on our good Commander-designate, and I was able to
confirm something that I have suspected. You see, our race has been in
existence for quite some time now, and it is about time for something to
happen. Our genes might be protected against deterioration and random mutation,
but we are still subject to the forces of evolution. And, while our strongest
do not often survive, the practice of taking duty mates has ensured that they
do reproduce....”

“Of course!” Valthyrra exclaimed suddenly. “Of course!
That is what I have been trying to remember. Deep within me are certain
instinctive memories that were given to me when I was first made. One told me
to wait and watch for the Dvannan Kelvessan, the High Kelvessan, who will be
different from those who have come before. When Velmeran pulled his telepathic
trick, something had been trying to push that memory to the front of my
mind.”

Dyenlerra nodded slowly. “Of course. And you would have saved me a
fair amount of trouble if you had called up that information when you were
supposed to, instead of losing it in that scrap heap of data you call a
memory.”

Valthyrra’s camera pod struck an indignant pose.

“Wait a moment,” Mayelna interrupted. “You mean that
Velmeran...”

The medic nodded again. “Dvanna Kelvessa. He is not like you or
me.”

“And just how is he supposed to be different?”

Dyenlerra shrugged. “I am not yet certain of every smallest detail,
but we do know the important points. His psychic abilities are the most obvious
difference. Others are more apparent, once you recognize them as racial
differences. Dvannan Kelvessan are slightly taller and a good deal stronger
than the old model. The indication is that they are smarter in certain ways.
And they live longer. Our life expectancy has increased from three hundred to
three hundred and fifty years. I am sure that Velmeran, barring accident, will
live to see three or four thousand – the Aldessan live thirty-five
hundred. But his regenerative powers are such that he may be functionally
immortal.”

“My Velmeran?” Consherra and Mayelna asked at the same time, and
glanced at each other.

“Yes, our Velmeran,” the medic continued. “Also, early
Kelvessan did not look that different from modern humans. Now we are very hard
to mistake for human. The High Kelvessan, although very good-looking by our
standards, are diverging even more. The elfin qualities are taking on a curious
feral appearance. His eyes are larger, and his skull is elongated. Humans have
their brains mostly above their eyes, and high foreheads. Our brains are retreating
somewhat behind our faces, the way the Aldessan or Feldenneh are. Our brain
shapes are changing: our areas are becoming more compact and efficient. I wish
that I had kept Dveyella for autopsy.”

“She was Dvanna Kelvessa?” Valthyrra asked.

“Certainly. Dvanna Kelvessa have been around for nearly a hundred
years now. Velmeran is just so unique that his differences cannot be
overlooked. I have already positively identified five others on this ship. That
oldest duty child of his certainly is. Baress is Dvanna Kelvessa, as his sister
was. As well as the twins Tregloran and Ferryn. However, their mother Baressa
is not.”

“Who is the fifth?” Consherra asked.

“You are, of course,” Dyenlerra said, confirming her suspicions.
“The rule, with no exceptions that I have yet seen, is that High
Kelvessan are natural telepaths. There are also readings on the medical
scanners that cannot be denied. And, as I indicated, you can tell by sight once
you know what to look for.”

“Then, if our race is beginning a transition period, how long will it
take for the Dvannan Kelvessan to replace the old ones?” Mayelna asked.

“The process should proceed fairly quickly now,” Dyenlerra
explained. “You see, they have the genetic advantage. A mating of the old
and new always produces a child of the new variety, never one of the old or
even a half-breed.”

She paused, for everyone was watching Consherra closely, for the first
officer was preoccupied with feeling the shape of her skull. She found it
rather unsettling to be told that she was something other than she had always
believed herself to be. It made her feel very alien and alone, and she could
well imagine how Velmeran was going to react to this; he felt alien and alone
as it was.

“Shall I send for a mirror?” the medic asked. “Dear girl,
you are not going to turn into a Faldennye.”

“Besides, what do you have to complain about?” Mayelna asked.
“I feel like an obsolete model, out-of-date technology.”

“Returning to the matter of Velmeran,” Dyenlerra reminded them.
“He needs our help more than ever just now. To begin with, our other
telepaths need to develop their own talents. Velmeran needs Kelvessan he can
relate to on his own level. Velmeran did tell me that you are the most
promising psychic on this ship.”

“Yes, although a child compared to him,” Consherra admitted.
“Tregloran is a better pure telepath, but he has less luck with related
talents.”