A short time later, Velmeran stood at the window of the rear observation platform, watching as the last of the fighters returned to the ship. Dveyella's star was now a point of tight far behind, but he meant to stay and watch it recede into the distance until it was gone. Just as her body was long since gone, consumed by its fiery touch.
He had returned to the bay and had waited long enough to see that his pilots were safe. But he did not approach them or allow them to know that he watched. They were frightened and confused, for this was the first time that they had seen death. And he knew as well that they grieved with him, and for him. They would not have known what to say if they had had to face him, and so he spared them that pain.
Something had occurred to him, almost as a shock, as he had stood there in that dim corner of the bay. The crewmembers hurried about their duties. The fighters had come in, and the pilots had departed to their own cabins. Life did go on, just as time had not hesitated for an instant. The life that had been Velmeran and Dveyella was dead and past. But the life that was Velmeran alone remained, with duties and tasks to be done. Even if he had met death with her, or in her place, little else would have changed. That simple, self-evident realization had the ability to surprise, and he had taken it with him to the observation platform to gnaw upon in his thoughts as he waited out the Methryn's departure.
Dveyella had said that he should recall her in happiness and joy, not in bitterness and sorrow. And as much as he was consumed in grief, as much as he would have liked to indulge in the self-pity of the belief that he would grieve forever, he knew that it would not always remain so. He had been surprised that life continued after her death because he had never envisioned a future without her, and he had tried to deny that he could live without her even as that dreaded future became present reality. As long as he continued to live, he would continue to be challenged by the future just as he was stalked by the past.
Below he could hear the closing of those big doors as the bays were sealed, the distant vibration as fighters in their racks were being transported up to their storage bays. He looked back at the distant star a final time, striving to impress that vision forever upon his memory, aware that this glimpse would be his last. A moment later the Methryn leaped into starflight.
In the time that followed, as his grief became numbed by acceptance, Velmeran came to realize that he regretted most the lack of something real and solid that stood for the short time that he and Dveyella had spent together. At least, if he had nothing material to stir his memories, he still had the memories themselves. Cherished memories.
And a dream.
Gradually he became aware of that dim, curious feeling that had underlain his pain and confusion from the start, like the drone note of a song on the balladeer's instrument. Surprisingly, he found it to be courage. Not the thing that he had always assumed to be courage, the bravery required to get inside a wolf ship and face danger and death. This courage was an inner strength, a confidence that was new to him. Dveyella had made him content to be Kelvessan and a Starwolf. Curiously, that contentment remained. Together with courage, he wondered if it gave him the strength to face what he had always feared. To face himself, what he was, what he did not like in himself and what he wanted to be. Indeed, he was certain of that strength, and it delighted him.
Courage of this sort was the seed of resolution. And resolution combined with a dream was the foundation of the future.
At last he slept, exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. Kelvessan never slept unless they were very tired. Ordinarily he did not much like it, this unfamiliar and disquieting retreat into oblivion, but this time he welcomed it as a temporary escape from his torment.
As few as his hours of escape were, he awoke to a greater sense of peace than he had known, or at least a greater sense of acceptance. He was by no means free of the pain, nor would he ever be completely free of it. But this awakening was in some ways a rebirth, for this was the beginning of a new life. His short life with Dveyella had come to a sudden end. Nor was this a return to the life he had known before she had come, for he was by no means the same person. That Velmeran had been a child, unsure of himself, of what he was or what he wanted, afraid to try because of the greater fear of failure.
The Velmeran he had become was still a child in many ways, he knew that, still afraid of others, perhaps even more afraid of being hurt. But he no longer needed others, certainly not someone braver and surer than himself to lend him strength. He knew for the first time what he was, as a Kelvessan and as a person, and he accepted it even if it did not completely satisfy him. He knew as well what he wanted. No longer would his existence be defined by what was expected of him, only what he expected of himself.
The Methryn remained in starflight. Velmeran had no idea where she could be going, and he did not particularly care. Both Mayelna and Valthyrra stayed well away, and he was glad for that. For a time his only contact with the ship outside his cabin door was a simple remote that brought him food from time to time. As long as it appeared that he was to be left alone, at least he could take some advantage of it. Valthyrra, impatient to know what he thought and felt, was at first mystified and then delighted to discover that he was making extensive use of his access terminal to the ship's computers. She was even more surprised when she figured out what he was planning to do with the data he sought. Problems did have a way of working themselves out, she realized with satisfaction.
The Methryn's destination was Alliolandh, a planet of a small system just on the fringe of the Rane Sector. Alliolandh was a rugged, barren world, cold and wet, empty of all but the most rugged life because nothing else could survive there. It was the type of place the Starwolves could appreciate, one of a few places in Union space they could visit without being concerned that Unioners were watching them.
Velmeran was on the com as soon as he felt the Methryn leave starflight, asking to know where they were. Korleran, the communications officer, hardly knew what to make of that question, and she did hesitate when he asked her to relay his request that his fighter be brought to the deck as soon as possible. Apparently her delay was to consult with a higher authority, for Valthyrra herself came on a moment later to assure him that it would be done. The incident left him to wonder if the crew was beginning to think that he had fallen out of his orbit. Soon, he reflected, their suspicions would either be confirmed or denied.
It was planet dawn over the area where Velmeran wanted to make his run, and so he landed his ship on a narrow stretch of beach backed by rugged peaks and ridges of broken rock to wait an hour or so for daylight. The morning wind was cool and fresh, so he took off his armor to sit naked in the sand and watch the rolling waves. This was a rare privilege, for the Starwolves had no planets of their own, only a very few places where they could put aside both their armor and their shells of remote dignity.
Curiously, the Kelvessan did not consider themselves at odds with nature. As completely engineered as their own race was, they remained living animals. Although their own world was a machine, they welcomed planetside life with fascinated delight. There were, of course, many aspects of nature that frightened them: the unaccustomed openness that they normally associated with empty lifeless space, the great beasts in the wild and the strange sounds in the night. Those were unwarranted fears, born of unfamiliarity, since there were few things in nature that could harm them. Still they welcomed, even longed for it, perhaps because they recognized it as something they thought that they could never have.
As soon as the morning sun was well up, Velmeran put himself back into his armor and returned to his ship. He realized, as he took his fighter above the tumbled heights, that he could not have wanted a better day, at least not on this turbulent world. For a time he flew along the coastal mountains, weaving around rocky peaks and up narrow valleys, just for the joy of flying. He told himself that this was an evasive maneuver, knowing that Valthyrra was surely watching, that her attention would soon turn to other matters if she thought that he was only prowling up and down the coast. The truth was that he was just a little frightened. His computer projections insisted that this could be done, but his doubts remained. Failure would surely mean his life; even if he survived the crash, he doubted that he could get out of his suit before he drowned. But this had to be done.
He turned out over the open sea, still keeping his speed down and his attitude low. At the same time he fed his microdisk into the ship's computer, waiting nervously as it digested the instructions he gave it. But it was agreeable, quickly indicating that it was ready. At his order the on-board computer began to reform the atmospheric shield that protected the ship like an invisible shell. Slowly the shell narrowed and elongated, altering its already tapered form to become a slender shaft a hundred meters long and no wider than the tips of the fighter's down- swept wings.
Velmeran made a final check of his scanners, insuring that he was indeed over open, clear water. Then he
