Maeken Kea resumed her nervous pacing for a moment, then hurried back to her seat to consult the monitors on her console. Trace smiled privately. Except when penned to her seat by accelerations, Maeken fought her battles with a display of physical rage and strength equal to her amazing mental agility.
“Well done, Captain,” he said, moving to one side of her chair.
Maeken glanced up at him. “Whatever for? Velmeran called the shots. Brilliant moves, but he left an answer for every problem. This was just to see how well his fighters work against this ship. Now he knows better.”
“Will he be back?”
Maeken frowned. “I really suspect that he is just trying to slow us down until the Methryn can be repaired… which indicates that we must be gaining on her. This attack bought him a little time, but not all that much. He has to come back. I just wonder what he plans to do next.”
Velmeran called a meeting in the Methryn’s smallest council room the moment he returned to the ship, and for as soon as the requested members could arrive. This was no problem for most, although Lenna had been trying to sneak in her required eight hours of an activity that Kelvessan did not need, and she had only just started the third. And Dyenlerra had caught Tregloran before he was able to escape; only a direct request from Velmeran was able to get him out of the medical section.
“Well, I would not exactly call it an exercise in futility,” Velmeran began suddenly. He had been sitting at the table, deep in his own thoughts, waiting for the others to arrive. Lenna had just sat down at the table, propped her chin in one hand, and appeared to go to sleep. He regarded her briefly and continued. “I did have my first good look at the Challenger and I know what she can do. Obviously the Methryn cannot fight her, and the packs are not much good either. I guess that I will have to do it myself. Damage report.”
When Valthyrra did not respond, he reached over and gave her camera pod a sharp rap. She turned to look at him. “Damage report. What was the final score? I left before the game was over.”
“You did not miss a thing,” Valthyrra answered. “We have six wrecked fighters and two injured pilots… slightly injured, but they will not be flying again for a few days. You trimmed the Challanger of seventeen guns and fourteen engines. Ordinarily I would say that you came out slightly ahead.”
“No, not this time,” Velmeran agreed. “Don designed his ship entirely too well, and Maeken Kea is every bit as smart as I was afraid she would be. Not only did my plan to force them to expose their engines fail, but she used it against me.”
“As you were afraid she might, as I recall,” Mayelna pointed out.
“Recognizing your mistakes before you make them is hardly an asset, not when you go ahead and make them.” He looked up as Tregloran entered and quietly took an empty place at the table. “Ah, here he is at last, the Kelvessan cannonball. Explain to me one thing. Did you keep your main generator from overloading by keeping the power lines open with a rather surprising exercise of your newly acquired talent?”
“Why, Treg! I never knew you had it in you,” Consherra exclaimed. She was the self-appointed trainer of psychic talents to the Methryn’s handful of mutant Kelvessan. Tregloran looked insulted.
“And why not?” he demanded indignantly.
“And why not?” Valthyrra repeated that question. “It is hardly surprising, when you consider that nearly all the Dvonnan Kelvessan that we have identified so far have been fairly closely related.”
Everyone, except for the apparently dozing Lenna, regarded her questioningly. As the implications of that became evident, Velmeran and Tregloran turned to look at each other.
“No, not you two.” Valthyrra laughed. “I have been able to put together a vague history of the Dvonnan Kelvessan by lengthy consultation with the other ships. There seems to be two distinct clans of mutants that arose separately at about the same time some ninety years ago — although I suspect that some link between them has yet to be found — originating from a single parent who was not Dvonna Kelvessa himself.”
“Both male?” Velmeran asked.
“That is not surprising,” the ship explained. “It is our system of taking duty mates that has contributed to the mutation. As I said, these clan progenitors are nearly but not quite mutant themselves, but remarkable people and very desirable duty mates, and their unions were often with females like Mayelna and Baressa who are themselves near-mutant, and whose union produced true mutants. Commander Fverran of the Schaylden originated the larger group that gave us Baress and Tregloran, while the smaller but somewhat more talented clan descended through Commander Tryn gave us Velmeran and his sisters Daelyn and Consherra.”
“Me?” she asked. “Where do I come in?”
“Do you remember your father?”
“My father? I barely remember my mother.”
“Well, I remember that both the Kalvyn and I were at Home Base several months before you were born.”
“Yes, but…,” Consherra faltered, aware that everyone was staring at her. Even Lenna opened one eye. She frowned, then gave the camera a hard stare. “Do you know this for a fact, or are you just supposing?”
“Call it an educated guess. Although I could not help but notice that Tryn did remember you.” She turned her camera pod to look at Velmeran. “The two of you should produce some amazing offspring.”
Lenna blinked sleepily. “Oh hell, we’re just one big, happy family! How does that work out, anyway?”
“We do not have the problem you must be thinking of,” Mayelna answered, obviously amused with the whole affair. “Close inbreeding can be advantageous for us, as long as we do not make a habit of it.”
“Well, it’s strictly your affair,” Lenna said as she again propped her head in her bed, closed her eyes and, to the mystification of all present, appeared to go to sleep. They were still staring when she opened her eyes a final time. “I should point out, however, that you are straying from the subject.”
Velmeran started and stared accusingly at Valthyrra. Everyone present knew from experience that she could not only change the subject but lead it on a merry chase before someone remembered what they were supposed to be talking about. Valthyrra recognized that stare and looked away quickly.
“Now, it seems to me that we were discussing the problem of one very large ship,” he began, sitting back in his chair. “I have now either tried or rejected every idea I can think of — “
“Just how certain are you of that?” Consherra insisted suddenly, although she was not talking to Velmeran but to Valthyrra. “Have you actually discussed the matter with Commander Tryn?”
There was a long moment of silence as everyone, including Lenna, regarded her with a mixture of surprise and mystification.
“No, I did not,” Valthyrra answered. “It is a possibility, but some other crewmember of the Kalvyn, one of Tryn’s offspring, could have easily been your father.”
“That is true, of course,” Consherra agreed softly, then noticed that Velmeran was watching her with an expression of forced patience. “Sorry.”
“I quite forgot what I was saying.”
“You have tried everything,” Lenna reminded him.
“Ah, yes.” He shrugged. “The answer is simple. If — “
“But how can that be?” Consherra interrupted again. “You said that the Dvonnan Kelvessan have been around for about ninety years, and I am going on seventy. I doubt that Commander Tryn had any children old enough to have been my father.”
“Mutant children, perhaps,” Valthyrra answered. “He could have had nonmutant children from earlier matings who share his ability to sire mutants.”
“Oh.” Consherra was utterly disappointed, to everyone’s surprise.
“As you were saying,” Mayelna prompted.
Velmeran looked up and hastily closed his mouth, which was hanging open. “Yes, I was…”
“But you obviously think so,” Consherra insisted.
“Yes, I do,” Valthyrra answered. “Are you not aware of how much you look and act like Velmeran? If you were just a bit taller, you could almost pass for Daelyn.”
Consherra considered that, felt her small nose, and shrugged. “I guess so. And he did remember me.”
“But is that any real trick in a race that has selective recall?” Lenna asked. “And besides that, you all look alike to me.”
“Actually, you do have a point,” Consherra admitted with disappointment.
“Tral de lessan!” Velmeran exploded. “So you happen to be my half sister. Is that so bad?”
“Bad?” Consherra regarded him in complete surprise. “Nothing could make me happier.”