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…”
