Kalfethki and two Feldennye worlds. I do not see you as one not to take advantage of a resource, and each does have something to offer.'
'True enough, and I do admit it. We have been using Feldennye in clerical and highly skilled technical areas for some time now. We have no choice. Our own people can no longer do what they can. The Kalfethki are useful in some tasks, but they are also a tremendous security problem. I think that our new Shepherd sentries are much better.'
'I did not find them all that dangerous,' Dveyella commented.
'You did not?' Trace asked, eyeing her skeptically. 'Do you think that we would do better with Kalfethki guards?'
'No, your sentries are superior to Kalfethki warriors — which, I am afraid, is not saying much. Your machines are loyal and more difficult to kill.'
Trace laughed in private amusement. 'I would suspect you of smoke-screening me, if I didn't know what you did to my sentries at Bineck. One, they say, was picked up and tossed down a stairwell.'
Now Dveyella laughed, pointing to her contrite mate. 'Ask him about that!'
Trace stared at him in amazement. 'You picked that thing up yourself? My dear Starwolf, those mechanical beasts weigh over two tons!'
Velmeran shrugged. 'It was not all that heavy. I thought that you had a better idea of just how strong we are.'
'So I've heard.' He paused for a moment, frowning at his own thoughts. 'Does it never bother you, knowing that your race was made for a purpose?'
Velmeran frowned as he considered that. 'Yes, we do think about it often enough. We know that we were made for a specific purpose, and that we would not exist at all except for that purpose. But I prefer to think that we were designed not for the specific purpose of flying starfighters, but for the more general function of space travel. Consider the independent traders, who have lived aboard their ships for tens of thousands of years now. They have become as much like us as nature can manage: small, strong and quick.'
'And yet it seems to me that you are still as tied to your assigned task as if you had been a living machine,' Trace observed. 'Having been born a Starwolf aboard a Starwolf ship, you had little choice in the matter.'
'Actually, very few of us are pilots.'
'True, but you are a warrior and a leader. I can see that clearly enough just talking with you.'
'Then, in a sense, our destinies are largely guided by our abilities and opportunities,' Velmeran said. 'My choices were no greater or less than your own. You are of the Lake clan, and you are the warrior of your generation. And so you were destined to be what you have become, or were shaped to be. Where then is your freedom?'
'I could have refused,' Trace insisted.
'Could you? Have you ever thought about what your other choices might have been?'
'I cannot be anything but what I am,' Commander Trace said, perhaps to avoid a more direct answer.
'That is also the truth for me,' Velmeran said, and rose from his chair. 'I am afraid that we must go now, since we both have packs waiting that must be back to the ship by noon port time.'
Trace rose as well to stand towering above the two Kelvessan. 'Then this must be our final farewell as friends, for if we ever meet again it will be as enemies. You are at least my equal. Time will tell which of us is the better.'
'And who will that be?' Velmeran asked.
'The one who makes the fewest mistakes, of course.'
'Well, what do you make of it all now?' Dveyella asked as they made their way quickly to the tram port.
'I think that Councilor Lake was telling us the truth after all,' Velmeran replied absently. 'Donalt Trace has something very much on his mind, something far beyond the petty mischief that Sector Commanders have always made for us. He is making plans for that last big battle. Gotterdammerung.'
'What?' Dveyella asked.
'Ragnarok,' he added, to her complete mystification.
He seemed to have resorted to a language that was neither human nor alien.
Dveyella would have asked for further explanation, but they were within sight of the tram platform and their packs were waiting. They had been in port less than a day, but to Velmeran it seemed like several. He wanted to collect his students and retreat to the ship before anything else could happen.
The first thing he saw was that Tregloran had ignored the warning about bringing home small, furry animals. Then he saw that this particular animal was neither alive nor real.
'Treg, what is that… that beast?' he demanded.
'Ah, Captain!' Tregloran replied jovially. 'This is my wolf.'
'Your what?'
'My wolf,' the younger pilot replied. 'An authentic replica of a real Terran red wolf, about one-tenth life-size and handmade by the nicest lady you could ever hope to meet… for a human.'
'That is a fox, authentic in detail and about life-size,' Dveyella said.
Tregloran returned an exaggerated look of indignation. 'I have her word!'
'Let me tell you a story,' Dveyella said, indicating for them to proceed up the ramp to the tram. 'I read this many years ago, although I do not recall who wrote it. I am inclined to say Aesop, although I know that it was one of the Roman poets.
'It seemed that there was once a nursemaid who was having trouble with an unruly child. Finally she threatened to feed him to the wolves. A credulous wolf, passing by at that moment, overheard and sat by the door all night, waiting for a free meal that never came.'
Tregloran glanced back. 'Meaning?'
'Meaning that if you are a gullible wolf, do not believe everything a human tells you. Especially if it sounds like a bargain.'
The Starwolves filed into a tram waiting at the bottom of the inclined shaft, the other passengers allowing them a car to themselves. The students' first port leave was drawing to an end.
'What does this do to the Councilor's theory of the decline of human intelligence?' Dveyella asked as the tram began its rapid ascent.
'Humans have always had a gift for deviousness and an ability to he shamelessly,' Velmeran replied. 'And we have always been uncomplicated souls, our gullibility at odds with our own intelligence. It seems that human duplicity is still as great as Kelvessan simplicity.'
Tregloran, in the seat ahead, glanced back over his shoulder. 'If it gives you two any peace of mind, I should tell you that I was not fooled for an instant. I know a fox when I see one.'
'Then why did you buy it?' Velmeran asked.
Tregloran shrugged. 'Because I like it.'
12
Mayelna glanced up as a pair of freight tenders emerged from the bottom of the monitor screen. Valthyrra Methryn had more than her share of audacity, setting herself in orbit just ahead of the station and then flying backward to face it, the cannons of her main batteries open and extended. Valthyrra seemed to court trouble, and yet her record was surprisingly clear of such undesirable incidents. She knew exactly how to play the game, and Mayelna knew better than to interfere.
'That is the last of it,' Valthyrra reported as she swung her boom around to the recessed area of the upper bridge. 'I am securing the holding bays.'
Mayelna nodded, not looking up from the readout on her main console monitor.
'The last of the packs are in,' Valthyrra continued. 'We have fourteen crewmembers planetside due to come up on the last two transports within the quarter hour.'
Mayelna nodded again.
'Velmeran and Dveyella are on their way up to the bridge.'
