The Starwolves (11 page)

"The best pilot you have is good enough for me... assuming that he has
the endurance," Dveyella continued after a moment of profound silence.
"Most people cannot maintain hypermetabolism long enough to work in
special tactics."

"I can recommend no one else," Valthyrra declared.

Dveyella crossed her arms as she looked Velmeran up and down very closely.
"What about strength? I am strong enough myself, but I do like to have a
second who can assist in matters of... lifting and removing obstacles."

Valthyrra turned her pod to look at Velmeran. "Do not fail me
now."

"Do you have something in mind?" Velmeran asked.

He was not worried, for he was sure that Valthyrra knew his strength.

Indeed she did. The fighter was quickly unracked and Velmeran approached it
quickly and confidently. It was, of course, no secret that he proposed to lift
the nose of the little ship. That was no small task, for a Starwolf fighter was
twenty meters of heavy machinery, dense plastics and spun carbon filaments. A
great deal of its weight was in the very back; in order to tilt it back on its
rear struts, all he had to lift was about six tons. But he did that easily with
only his upper arms.

"He is stronger than I am," Baress admitted quietiy to his
captain.

That was saying a lot, and Dveyella did not answer. Among their own kind,
size and sex were not good indications of strength. Baress was about the
strongest person she had ever met, and she was herself just a little stronger
still. But Velmeran was even stronger. There was no longer any question about
whether she would allow him to go. Indeed, Valthyrra Methryn might have a hard
time getting him back.

"Suits me," she admitted casually. "Commander?"

"It seems to have already been decided," Mayelna answered
slowly, still loath to agree. "If you are going to run our errands for us,
then we should at least offer you any help we have to give. I had meant to have
Velmeran's pack standing ready to help you get clear..."

"Velmeran's pack is shorthanded," Valthyrra pointed out, as if
some automatic relay had failed to note that the argument was over. She turned
her camera pod to Dveyella. "My drone reports that the Union carrier is approaching
its predicted port. I should have all the information I can get for you
coming within the next few hours."

"If you would care to shed that armor, my first officer wid show you to
your rooms," Mayelna said, her behavior improving quickly as her good
humor returned. "If Valthyrra has your luggage ready."

"Coming!" Valthyrra announced. A remote, a small flat-topped
freight carrier, emerged from the other side of the transport, piled with boxes
and bags as it rolled off toward the lift. Mayelna quickly took Velmeran by the
arm and led him on ahead of the others. Consherra flinched when she saw that;
Mayelna might not be able to stop this – indeed she had not really even
tried – but she would certainly lecture him long and hard until it was
done, and then start over by pointing out his mistakes. She did not notice
Dveyella until the pilot fell in beside her.

"I seem to have walked into the middle of something."

"Oh, do not let those two bother you," Consherra assured her.
"Unfortunately, this is an old argument. Can you keep a secret?"

"Better than you."

Consherra smiled. "I am hoping that the end justifies the means. To put
it simply, Valthyrra wants Velmeran for Commander-designate, and Mayelna
refuses to name him. Velmeran gained quite a beginning of a reputation as a
capable leader during our last battle. Now Valthyrra is obviously
contriving to help him win as much favor as she can, so that Mayelna will have
no reason not to approve the appointment."

"Ah, I see. Well, I have no objection to my part in this game, so long
as Velmeran delivers as promised."

"Do you doubt?"

"If I doubted, he would not be going," Dveyella replied
casually, although she obviously meant it. "But why should your Commander
question his abilities?"

"It has nothing to do with his abilities," Consherra replied.
"Commander Mayelna is his mother."

"Oh!" Dveyella exclaimed with a look of both comprehension
and horrified dismay.

As soon as she was settied into her cabin, Dveyeda asked Velmeran to meet
her as soon as he could, in full armor, on a high observation platform in the
left holding bay. She did not tell him what she had in mind, but he could guess
easily enough; she meant to teach him what she could of the special tricks he
would need to know for this mission. Velmeran found her already waiting on the
platform, leaning with her upper set of arms on the rail, her lower arms braced
wide as she stared down into the depths of the vast bay.

"You know, we Kelvessan are truly amazing fighting machines in our own
right," she began almost absentiy. "I have been told that we can be
over a hundred times stronger than an ordinary human of the same size, and our
reflexes are thousands of times faster. And yet most of us know little of just
how much we can do. For the purposes of today's exercise, Valthyrra Methryn has
consented to turn off the buffer fields in this bay. Let me begin with a simple
demonstration."

With that she casually leaped over the rading. Velmeran was not caught
by surprise; he had figured out what she intended to do, and watched with
interest. The static field that took the place of gravity was only a fair
substitute for the real thing. It seemed like one standard gravity only to
stationary objects, but decreased as objects moved faster relative to the
motion of the ship. An ordinary human could have easily taken a fall of five
meters. But Dveyella was jumping nearly the entire height of the bay, almost
one hundred and fifty meters. As easily as she landed, it might have been only
two.

Velmeran followed without waiting to be asked. The long fall was not so bad
as he had anticipated, for it gave him time to prepare for his landing. Since
he had the strength to kick open an airlock, he wisely allowed his legs to
catch him. He landed almost gently, just slightly off-balanced by the
top-heavy burden of his armor.

"Very good," Dveyella remarked. "That is about the most that
you should ever try to jump under one real standard gravity. Remember that
it is not how far you jump, but how hard you hit that limits you. Higher
gravity decreases the height you can jump."

"What is the most I should be able to take?"

"Oh, you should be able to survive an impact speed of three hundred
kilometers per-hour or more," she said, looking him over. "And by
survive, I mean that you should be able to pick yourself up and continue on
without pain. You can endure more, but it will hurt. We do have our limits, one
of them being our suits. Do you know that we can actually take more stress than
our armor? Well, what goes down must often come back up."

Dveyella indicated a docking tube about fifteen meters to Velmeran's left
and thirty straight up. She jumped from where she stood. Her body rigid and her
arms spread wide for balance, she seemed almost to be flying for the long
moment that she was in the air. She caught hold of the edge of the tube and
flipped herself atop in a graceful move. Velmeran, knowing that he lacked the
experience for anything that elaborate, made a much simpler leap from
almost directly below the tube. He overshot by nearly ten meters, but arched
gently over to land in the very middle of the tube.

"Well, you made it on your first try," Dveyella remarked.
"Most people need a little practice to be able to jump that far. You seem
to have a natural talent for this."

"Talent has less to do with it than common sense," Velmeran
answered as he peered over the edge. "The easiest way is always the
surest."

"Words to live by," Dveyella agreed. "That is why I jumped at
an angle, showing you one of my fanciest tricks from the start. Most people
would have tried to do it the hard way, and they learn their limitations very
quickly."

"I prefer to face my limitations from the cautious side. I like
surprises as well as anyone, but a limitation becomes a failing when it catches
you by surprise."

Dveyella laughed. "That is the lecture that I was supposed to be
giving you. Is there anything you do not know?"

"I just indicated that there is," Velmeran said. "All this
business is new to me. Is it very likely that we will have to fight?"

Dveyella shrugged and sat down on the machinery that joined the docking tube
to the wall. "That depends upon how chance works for us. Sometimes
everything goes as smoothly as you could want. Other times everything seems to
go wrong. Usually it falls somewhere in between."

"What about my armor and my fighter?" he asked. "Will they be
good enough for what I need?"

"I have already requested a new suit for both of us," Dveyella
said, glancing down at the burnt scoring on her lower right arm that could only
be bolt flash from a deflected hit. "There is really nothing better
than ordinary flight armor, since anything sturdier would also be heavier. Our
fighters are exactly the same, since we use the same auxiliary guns and other
accessories as we need. Your fighter will be good enough, as long as she is in
prime condition. How long have you had her?"

Velmeran shrugged. "As long as I have been flying."

Dveyella only sat and stared at him.

"She has never taken a hit or had a major breakdown in any
component," he continued, somewhat defensively. "I consider her as
good as the day she was built."

Dveyella could only assume that either the ship must be getting shabby or
else he had not been using it all that long. She suspected the latter, and now
she was sure of it. "Velmeran, how old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

"And you already lead a pack?"

"Because I am about the best pilot on this ship."

Dveyella laughed. "At least you believe in being straightforward about
it!"

Velmeran only shrugged. "I have no false vanity. I cannot take credit
for being what I was designed to be. My mother was the best pilot that this
ship has seen for some time."

"And your father?" Dveyella asked.

He shrugged again. "Mayelna has never seen fit to enlighten me. But I
do not doubt that my father was... worthy, considering how discriminating she
can be. Do not worry about me. I know what I can do and what I cannot do."

Dveyella shook her head slowly. "I still cannot help but think that I
have been flying twice as long as you have been alive. But Valthyrra Methryn
does recommend you highly."

"Valthyrra Methryn seems to have plans for me," Velmeran
remarked as he chose a sturdy connecting rod to sit on.

"Valthyrra obviously thinks a great deal of you, and I trust what the
ships think. They have been around so long, and have seen so many people come
and go, that they can tell," Dveyella said, keeping her real thoughts to
herself. She wondered how much he really knew about the plans that Valthyrra
had for him; somehow she suspected that he knew more about what was going on
than anyone thought. This was the most interesting ship that she had been on in
years. "And do not think that you would fly in my pack if I did not trust
you."

"How did you come to lead a special tactics team?" Velmeran asked.

"By being as good as they say you are," she explained.
"I was asked to fill a vacant place – just like you – and I
was asked to stay. After fifty years I am now the senior member of the
pack."

"They all died?"

Dveyella shook her head. "Some, but mostly they retire back to the
regular packs. Marlena plans to go soon, so I might keep you if you do well
enough, and if you want. Have you thought about it?"

Velmeran considered that a moment, and shook his head slowly. "No, I
have not. I have a pack... I might not be the best leader, but I have a
responsibility to my pack." But then he paused as a new thought occurred
to him. "Maybe that is what Valthyrra has in mind for me, though."

"Why would you think that?"

"I have been a source of dissension lately," he explained.
"After our last battle, part of the crew has come to look upon me as
something of a hero, while others – a few others – only resent me.
Valthyrra and the Commander have problems enough without me in the middle of
it."

"I have been told something about pilots who refused to go out until
they were certain that the trouble was real," Dveyella said. "Would
it surprise you to hear that this is not the first time in recent months?"

"No, I suppose not."

"I also heard that you were indeed something of a hero..."

"According to Consherra!" Velmeran said accusingly.

"By Consherra, yes," she agreed reluctantly. "The pilots
think otherwise?"

"My opportunity for heroism arose because I was out there alone,
unsupported by pilots who did not want to trouble themselves until they were
sure that they were needed," Velmeran explained hotly. "Two packs
against a system fleet, and it was mostly over before the Methryn could get a
single fighter out. Management is by no means prepared to allow them to forget
it. You can surely see how that could cause resentment."

"Envy is the seed of resentment."

"Witticisms do not run the starship," Velmeran said. "This
comes as a good opportunity to get rid of me gracefully. I can leave the
hero, to a task more suited to my abilities."

"You think they want to be rid of you?" Dveyella asked in
amazement. "The Commander is your own mother."

"And you might recall that she did not protest strongly," he
reminded her. "Mayelna is a good Commander, but she works hard at it.
She learned long ago the flaw in our standards of advancement, that being a
good pilot does not necessarily make one a good leader."

"Valthyrra Methryn has something in mind for you, and I doubt that she
would willingly let you go," Dveyella said. She rose slowly and shifted
her shoulders to settle her armor into position, then turned back to Velmeran.
"Perhaps you would be the most use here. We will go get Keth, and you
can see for yourself what you think."