The Starwolves (24 page)

"Bait?"

"Perhaps," Dveyella agreed moughtfully. "He might be tempting
us to take a chance so that he can trap us."

"He also said that the Sector Commander will soon make his second move
against us," Velmeran added. "I can believe that they have quite a
few tricks up their sleeves that they are now ready to play. We will not have
our own raid ready tomorrow or even next week. I think that we should wait,
force them to make the next move, and see what they are up to."

"Of course," she agreed.

Velmeran glanced up, suddenly realizing where they were going. "Are you
taking us up to the Terraces? Those places are expensive."

Dveyella shrugged. "So what? Piracy pays well."

They followed the northern edge of the lake halfway to the wall of the
cavern, to where the rocky ceiling overhead was now beginning to slope down
quickly. There they found an artificial stream that leaped and splashed along a
stair-step course down a steep hillside. Walkways weaved around and along
patches of forested gardens, so that here, late at night, they might well have
been outside and not deep underground. There were but a very few people along
those paths, as late as it was. The two Starwolves took a table in a small
open-air cafe, nestled on a small platform of rock that leaned slightly out over
the brook.

"In all the worlds I have known, I think that this place is one of my
most favorite, very late at night when no one is about," Dveyella said as
they waited for their meal.

"Do you often come here?" Velmeran asked.

"I have come to Vannkam five times now," she replied absently.
"The first time was nearly fifty years ago. Only thirty years past I sat
on this very terrace with a boy I loved but who would not love me. He knew that
I would be going away as soon as another ship needed me, and he knew that I
would not leave my pack to stay with him. I had not expected that I would ever
try that trick again."

"I have been here twice before," Velmeran offered. "Since
this is the Methryn's territory, we see it more than anyone."

The waiter approached and set down their plates as quickly and discreetly as
he could before retreating. Starwolves were not good for business; their
presence could frighten patrons away and prevent new ones from coming. No one,
of course, was going to tell them that, so they were generally served quickly
and quietly in the hope that they would go away.

"I have been thinking," Dveyella began hesitantly. "I have
asked if you will fly in my pack. That is no longer possible."

Velmeran looked up, startled. "Do you not want me?"

"Certainly I want you," she insisted, although she would not look
up at him. "But Valthyrra Methryn wants you as well, and she needs you
more."

"And what about what I want? Do I not have any choice in the
matter?"

Dveyella shook her head slowly. "Mostly people do enjoy such freedom,
but those of greater ability have the greater responsibility. My own
responsibilities have forced me to this decision, responsibilities to myself,
to you, and to all Starwolves. I hope that you can recognize your own
responsibilities and face them bravely."

Velmeran only stared at her in disbelief. "What are you talking about?
I am only a pilot... a good one, perhaps, but still just a pilot."

"Yes, you do keep saying that. I do not know if you are afraid of the
responsibilities in themselves or because they are at odds with your own
desires." She paused, frowning. "Meran, I have been on half the ships
in the fleet. I have met most of the Commanders and pack leaders, and I have
heard enough about the rest to judge correctly. Someday soon you will command
the Methryn. And if Councilor Lake spoke the truth, that this ancient war will
be decided within our own lifetimes, then you and possibly you alone will win
it for us.

"Meran, do you honestly believe that I am the first person, in all these
years, to find a way into this city? That is actually only the best of three
effective plans that I have. Others have surely discovered some of those plans
for themselves. The difference is that no one has ever decided that the time
has come to try, or knew how to actually go about doing it. You know what must
be done, how it should be done and, I believe, how to make certain that it is
done."

"And you will decide that for me, whether I like it or not?"
Velmeran complained bitterly.

"Yes, by that much the choice is mine," she agreed. "I tell
you that there is much that you must and will do in your lifetime, but I also
promise that you will not face that future alone. If you cannot come with me,
then I will stay with you."

"But... what of your own pack?"

She shrugged, unconcerned. "What pack? Two fighters and a transport? I
have told you that Threl and Marlena want to retire soon. And Baress is no
longer as delighted with the business as he used to be; he is my younger
brother and wished only to stay with me. And I want to stay with you."

"Why?" Velmeran asked in the bewilderment of innocence.

"For love, if nothing else," she replied. "I have never loved
and known that it was real. And I do not believe that you would even know what
love is, or you would have known this long ago."

"But I..." Velmeran began to protest, but hesitated.

"Do you not?"

"Perhaps I do; I do not know. Perhaps, as you say, I do not even know
what it is. I guess that I have always thought of love as a human indulgence. I
have never sought love; perhaps I could have known it before, but I refused to
recognize it. It frightens me, and I do not know why."

"Why?" Dveyella asked. "We are Kelvessan, what they call
Starwolves. We were made for a purpose, yes. But our lives are our own. Are you
afraid to claim the rights and privileges of being a real person, afraid that
you will fail? Decide now whether you are a person or a machine. But I must
leave you if you decide that you are a machine, for a machine can never return
my love."

Velmeran sat for a moment in silence, and Dveyella thought that she saw the
beginnings of tears in his eyes. And that moved her to pity, for she had not
suspected that he was indeed so lonely and afraid.

"I still do not know if I love you," he said at last, not looking
up. "But I think that I could, for it seems that my heart would break if
you were to go away."

Dveyella smiled. "Is that not love?"

She paused and glanced up, for a Feldenneh, a balladeer, was
approaching timidly while the other musicians in her group waited near the
entrance of the little cafe. Canine in form and clothed only in her own thick
coat of fur, she looked to be no more than a large wolf walking with unusual
grace on its hind legs. She held in her arms a gelvah, half harp and half
guitar, the instrument of the Feldennye street balladeer. She stopped beside
their table and dipped her slender snout over the upper neck of her instrument.

"Fair night, noble Starwolves," she said in a rich, velvety purr.
"If it would please you, I have a song that I would give you."

"It would please us greatly," Velmeran replied, reaching for a
coin in his belt pouch. But the Feldenneh quickly laid a slender hand on his
arm.

"Please, it is my gift to you," she said. "The Feldennye do
not forget that we come and go as we please because of you. A small gift,
compared to what you give us. The people of the wolves are gracious."

"Who is a wolf?" Velmeran teased.

The balladeer smiled. "I have for you a very, very old song, as old as
my own world. I fear that my poor translation does not do it justice."

She nodded to her fellows and struck the opening chords, then lifted her
delicate muzzle to the night and sang.

Fair night, and darkness surrounds us softly,

Hidden where none in the world may see.

Here we are alone.

This night is our own.

Fair nights that we share joyously.

Come love, for love is the force that binds us.

Short is the time that we call our own.

Though night soon must fly.

Love will never die.

It lives in the cherished memory of this fair night.

The balladeer reset the tone lever of her gelvah and shifted smoothly into
another song, now playing solo to the accompaniment of her fellow musicians.
She turned and walked slowly away into the night as she continued to play, and
the music carried clear and bright through the dark and deserted streets.

Dveyella rose and held out a hand to her companion. "Come. I know where
we can get a room for the night, one cool enough to be comfortable to us."

"Why do we need a room?" Velmeran asked innocently.

Dveyella smiled tenderly. "Meran, promise me that you will never
completely grow up."

They left together, silent and unnoticed, descending the curving path back
toward the hotel at the port entrance. Near the top of that same passage, on a
bridge overlooking a short waterfall, the balladeer paused to sing again. Her
words carried through the clear, still air, echoing among the rocks of the
underground stream, but still did not reach the sharp ears of the two
Starwolves. For they were already gone.

Fair night, fair night delay!

Night is the realm of love.

Cherish the moment that love's fortune has spared you.

This night shall pass, and the light of dawn shall find you,

Disturbing your dream of love.

Beware! Beware!

Or night shall pass,

And dawn will find you alone.

Vannkarn was at its best in the later hours of the morning, from the time
when the shops first opened until the midday meal. Then everyone seemed to be
out and about the city; men the avenues were cheerfully noisy and all the
stores from the simple stalls of the port market to the elegant and expensive
shops of the Terraces, were filled with eager and alert buyers. At this time
even Starwolves could mingle freely with travelers, tourists and native cave
dwellers and no one seemed to take much notice.

But that morning it was too easy for Velmeran to dream of other things,
after all that Dveyella had taught him the night before. It was not accurate to
say that he had lost his innocence; that was a tall order for anyone, but she
had put a sizable dent in it. At the very least he had learned that there was
considerably more to this matter than he had thought; he had taken a mate, and
now had to consider the consequences. True, his old loneliness had vanished and
he felt more at peace with himself than he had in a long time. On the other
hand, his cherished privacy was thoroughly and irrevocably invaded. He was
frightened by the prospect that Dveyella might turn up pregnant, as
unlikely as that was, and yet he was only too eager to try again.

Unfortunately, he did not seem to have any choice in the matter. Dveyella
had decided that this was what should be, and he could not say no. Which was
his own shy way of admitting that he wanted it just as much. Some things simply
had to be, regardless of the risk. Let others think what they will. He was
happy. Worried, but happy.

They were making their way through the crowded avenues leading to the more
expensive shops of the upper Terraces when it came. Velmeran stopped suddenly
and turned with abrupt swiftness. Dveyella saw the beginning of that move and
interpreted it as one of alarm and in the same instant turned also, a gun in
each set of hands. Two score humans nearly died of fright in the following
moment, but that was all Dveyella could see.

"What is it?" she asked softly, putting away her guns.

"It seemed to me that I heard someone calling me," Velmeran
replied uncertainly. "Someone is looking for me."

"Who?"

"Commander Trace, actually," he said, and shrugged at his own
unwillingness to believe what he had just said.

Before Dveyella had any opportunity to comment, Donalt Trace himself
appeared as if summoned by the mention of his name, approaching from a side
street not fifteen meters away. He wore dress uniform, as he had the night
before; towering a head above anyone else in the crowd, he could have no more
disguised his identity than the two Starwolves might have. Having seen them as
they passed, he now hurried after them as they waited.

"Val treron de altrys caldayson!"
Dveyella exclaimed softly
in Tresdyland before switching back to Terran. "Speak of the devil and he
shall appear! But how did you do that? Telepathy of that order is a purely
Aldessan trick. You are worth more than I thought."

Velmeran had no time to reply to that, even if he had an answer. He turned
to the approaching Sector Commander and bowed his head as well as his armor
would allow.
"Val edesson.
Commander Trace."

"Good morning to you, young Starwolf," Trace answered pleasantly.
"I certainly hope that I have the pleasure of addressing Pack Leader
Velmeran. I have been most of the morning looking for you."

"Oh? Surely there are not that many Starwolves in Vannkam."

"As a matter of fact, there were five hundred and seventy-nine at last
count," the Commander said, indicating for them to proceed to a small
open-air cafe just ahead. "And, if I may say with no malice intended, they
all look alike to me. But there are very few in black armor, and I believe that
I have learned to recognize the two of you."

They took a corner table at the cafe, as far from the open as possible.
Although feared and often hated, Starwolves in armor generated intense interest
in themselves. But for a pair in black armor to be seated at the same table of
a fashionable cafe with the towering figure of the Sector Commander was a sight
never before seen in the long history of Vannkam. Commander Trace was
apparently unconcerned about the amount of attention they drew. He ordered
cold drinks, nonalcoholic, for them all. And yet, for all his urgency, he
seemed at a loss to know how to begin.