“Well, I really screwed it up this time,” she said softly. “I have not been in this much trouble since the time Dveyella was going to take him away from me.”
“Maybe not,” Mayelna said as they turned toward the lift, getting out of the way as the bay crew began to remove the wreckage of the fighter. “Velmeran will not want to leave, and I trust him to say so.”
“Why would he not want to leave?” the ship asked bitterly.
“Because you are still the best fighting ship in the wolf fleet, in spite of yourself,” the Commander insisted. “He needs you as much as you need him.”
“I was not exactly helpful when he needed me this time,” the probe’s camera pod sagged, the mechanical equivalent of a dejected sigh. “Just now I feel old and useless.”
Mayelna glanced at her and smiled. “You know better than that. And, if it is any consolation, I will tell you that he makes me feel very old from time to time.”
The medic took Velmeran to a private diagnostic chamber and locked the door, forbidding even Consherra to enter. She cautiously removed him from his scorched armor, sometimes having to force catches that were now reluctant to open, then set her naked and nervous patient on the table and gave him a very thorough examination with her most accurate and sensitive scanners. She was soon satisfied that he was neither burned nor had suffered internally from shock or buffeting. She finished by bringing up a very large and intimidating microscopic scanner and, to Velmeran’s astonishment and profound embarrassment, aimed it at the portion of his anatomy that made him most nervous.
“The monitor in your suit controls says that you took a sustained heat of over twenty degrees above body temperature,” she explained without looking up. “We can take a surprising extreme of temperatures, even heat, for limited periods of time. But you were in that overheated suit for some time, and too much heat for too long can damage the genetic code you carry, perhaps resulting in sterility.”
“Sterility?” he asked cautiously.
“Which, fortunately, you do not have to worry about,” she said as she switched off the machine and pushed it out of the way. “At the very most, you might be unable to have a successful mating for several days.”
“And there might be some danger of genetic defect?” Velmeran inquired.
“No, of course not. Have you ever heard of a Kelvessan with genetic defects? It cannot happen.” She secured the machine in its storage cubby and tossed pants and shirt to her patient. “You recall what happens in cell reproduction? The DNA chain splits in half, and a special molecular machine runs up each half, pulling out amino acids and sticking them in the proper place to form two identical chains. In most natural organisms this little machine occasionally makes mistakes, sticking pieces where they do not belong.
“But our little replicator is smaller than that. It has the ability to check itself. When it finds a mistake, it will either back up and correct it or break the DNA chain to prevent cell division. In our species, an uncorrectable defect results in termination of the pregnancy at the time of conception. After the first few cell divisions, the loss of one or two defective cells at a time has no lasting consequences. Neat trick?”
“I suppose,” Velmeran agreed. “They must have thought of everything when they made us.”
“Perhaps. There are certain failings in character that could have been corrected genetically, but I have no real objection. If they had tried to make us absolutely perfect, we really would have been machines.” She paused and shrugged. “Speaking of conception, Baressa tested out pregnant this morning. She was impressed with your efficiency.”
“Efficiency is one of my strong points,” Velmeran said as casually as he could, although he did not hide his dismay well. In fact, he was fortunate to be sitting down when he heard that. “Who knows?”
“Well, I do, of course. Consherra knows. I am sure that Valthyrra knows, and Mayelna might.”
“That is quite enough. This is supposed to be Baress’s child,” Velmeran reminded her.
Dyenlerra frowned. “I wish that I could understand your objection. Any other male would be delighted to be in your position.”
He shrugged hesitantly. “When… when Consherra first came to me, I made a promise — to her, I think, and certainly to myself — that I would never compare her to Dveyella or do anything to make her think that she is not my first choice.”
“And this is the simplest way to prove it?” the medic asked. “I guess that I can understand that. But have you ever thought that this is a selfish act on your part? Consherra wants you to mate, and it does not worry her. What does worry her is your refusal. She blames herself.”
“Then I have no real choice, do I?” he asked.
“That is for you to decide,” Dyenlerra told him.
Consherra herded the entire pack before her, sending them firmly and quickly into the common room that served all their cabins, sparing one hand to pull Velmeran behind her. There were, however, several others besides just the Helm and the nine pack members. Three other pack leaders were there as well: Shayrn, Daeryn, and the redoubtable Baressa. This was clearly a council of war — perhaps even a mutiny. Just yet they were not sure which, and they were waiting for Velmeran to tell them what to do. And, if it seemed that he was still undecided on the matter, Consherra was not.
“Pack your bags!” Consherra told the younger pilots. “We are leaving here as soon as we can if we have to pack a very large dinner and depart in our fighters.”
“Wait a moment,” Baressa said firmly. “Meran, I stand with you in this. But first I want to know just what did happen out there. As I understand it, you warned Valthyrra of a trap and she ignored you?”
Velmeran shrugged helplessly. “I told her that I could predict the future. Naturally, she found that difficult to believe.”
The older pilot looked startled. “Indeed? If I may dare to ask, can you predict the future?”
“He made three predictions in a row, and they all proved true,” Consherra answered for him. “He said that we would find a Class M freighter long before it came into scanner range. He said that her crew would abandon the ship intact, and that it would explode.”
“Explode?” Daeryn asked.
Velmeran shrugged. “Once it was close enough to get a fix on the Methryn, it drove itself straight at her in the hope of getting close enough to blow itself up in her face.”
“With what?” Baressa asked. “A conversion device that large should have scanned.”
Velmeran glanced up at the others for the first time, roused from his own thoughts. “There were three conversion devices of tremendous size. Valthyrra saw them, I am sure, but simply assumed them to be the ship’s generators. Which they were.”
“But generators cannot be made to explode,” Baress protested.
“Any generator is a conversion device that can be made to explode,” Velmeran said. “Class M’s have limited sentience, apparently enough to override their safeties.”
“That is so,” Baressa agreed. “But where does that leave us? You knew what was going to happen, and Valthyrra ignored you. She is still at fault in this matter, since it could have been avoided.”
“I do not know,” Velmeran said uncertainly, once again seemingly unaware of the others as he retreated back within his own thoughts. “It might be tempting to hold Valthyrra to blame, but I cannot. Even I could not believe completely until I had proven myself.”
“That is still no excuse for her to treat her best pack leader like that,” Consherra said hotly. “Any other ship would consider herself very lucky to have Velmeran, and willing to pay him the attention he deserves.”
“It is up to Velmeran,” Baressa said, gently reminding them of who was the real leader of this group. “If he goes, then I will go with him.”
“Me, too!” Shayrn agreed enthusiastically.
“And me,” Daeryn added.
Velmeran glanced up, confused, as if suddenly aware of what was going on.
“Wait a moment!” he protested. “Who said anything about taking half the packs on this ship and going anywhere?”
“You did,” Shayrn insisted.
“I did?”
“Actually, Consherra is the only one I recall having anything to say on the subject,” Baressa said. “What do you have to say?”
