“I remember,” Consherra said. “Valthyrra came to your rescue.”
“Well, she might not support me so willingly this time, since what I am going to say is even more outrageous. Sherry, do you believe in me?”
“Of course,” she assured him.
“Then turn down your thermostat and follow me.”
He led her quickly to the upper bridge, where Mayelna and Valthyrra were conferring on some matter. They both looked up immediately, well aware that something was wrong by the purposeful manner of this delegation.
“Is there some problem?” Valthyrra asked.
“Perhaps,” Velmeran said. “A ship will come into scanner range in about five minutes, a freighter of the new Class M type and a very tempting target. Although you will find no indication of a trap, it is a tremendous danger to us. We must let it go or we stand a very good chance of losing ships — perhaps even you.”
“And how do you know this?” Valthyrra asked without a pause.
“Do not ask me how I know,” he snapped, irritated and desperate. “I do not believe in precognition — I cannot. And yet the fact remains. I know that if we capture this ship, it will blow up in our faces. Do you believe me or not?”
Valthyrra did not answer at once. She glanced at Mayelna, but the Commander offered no advice. After a long, uneasy moment she came to some decision, for her camera pod moved in a negative gesture.
“No, I do not,” she said. “I know that I encouraged you to explore your talents. But there will be times when you are wrong, and it seems to me that even you are reluctant to believe this. I cannot afford to indulge your whims and hunches.”
Velmeran looked hurt and betrayed. He had thought that Valthyrra believed in him, even loved him in her way. He was not prepared for her to so quickly judge him a fool and tell him so to his face. But if he was hurt, Consherra was outraged.
“You listen to me, you steel-plated ass!” she declared, approaching the pod menacingly. “His untried and oh-so-inexact talent has already saved you from one incident when your befogged scanners could not tell an independent freighter from a company ship.”
Valthyrra considered that. “You are right. Very well, I will make this concession. If a Class M freighter sails past in the next few minutes, then I will scan it as thoroughly as I possibly can. If I detect nothing wrong, then I will permit you to run guard. That way you can be out there in the middle of things, where you might be able to tell us just what is wrong. And when you can explain a little better, then I will listen.”
“Good enough,” Velmeran agreed. “I think that I can get us out of the trouble that you are determined to get us into. I sent my pack on to the landing bay. I trust that you will have our fighters sent down to the deck.”
“It is so ordered,” Mayelna said softly, glaring at Valthyrra.
Velmeran turned and walked away without a second glance.
Consherra seemed likely to follow. She hurried to the edge of the upper bridge to watch him until he left through the lift corridor. Then she turned to Valthyrra in raw, unrestrained fury.
“What do you think you are doing?” she demanded. “What could have possibly gotten into your circuits for you to turn against him like that, after all that he has done for you?”
“Now you just wait a moment,” Valthyrra returned with equal force. “I cannot for one moment believe that he can see the future. It may be that trying to deal with his frightening new talents has unsettled him. I can only hope that he will recover from these fantasies, but I certainly cannot afford to indulge him.”
“Well, you just suit yourself,” Consherra replied. “I am going to take Velmeran to another ship as soon as I can arrange it.”
“You can do that, and I will be rid of both of you. But I can tell you now that no other ship… Oh, dear!” Valthyrra ended ominously. The others looked at her questioningly, but she offered no explanation. Instead her lenses unfocused as her concentration shifted elsewhere. “Velmeran, are you still near a com?”
“I was just getting off the lift,” he replied. “So, you finally found that Class M freighter. Will you let her go?”
“No. Not unless we find a good reason. I suppose that I will have to learn the hard way.”
“Very well, then. I expected no more.”
“Do you still refuse to believe?” Consherra demanded.
Valthyrra turned her camera pod to look at her. “If Velmeran is going to start making predictions, then he is going to have to prove his accuracy before anyone can trust him completely. Even when it means taking a risk.”
Part of the reason that Velmeran found such reluctance to his call to let this one go lay in the fact that Starwolves dreamed of catching Class M freighters. These unique vessels were the freight versions of the big colony and passenger ships. They were rich prizes in themselves, for they carried only the cream of the company trade, as well as bringing a healthy ransom.
Velmeran’s pack was to fly guard for Barman. That, in Velmeran’s estimation, only complicated matters all the more. Barthan was the youngest pack leader except for Velmeran himself, and he was as well the only pack leader on the Methryn who opposed Velmeran’s appointment as Commander-designate. Their enmity, although strong for Kelvessan, was relatively tame by human standards. But it was enough that Barthan would be recklessly eager to prove the younger pilot wrong.
“My scanners detect nothing to cause any concern,” Valthyrra reported as the two packs closed on the unsuspecting freighter. “No bombs. No missiles. Not much in the way of rich cargo, either. Barthan, are you willing to go after this thing?”
“Of course,” Barthan replied. “I am not concerned with false prophets.”
“Just remember that he has not been wrong yet,” Valthyrra reminded him.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Velmeran answered. “They are going to drop out of starflight and abandon ship the moment you show yourself. You will not have a chance to fire a shot.”
Barthan did not answer, since he was already moving in on the freighter’s tail. The ship’s crew must have been aware of the pursuit, but they did nothing to evade. Instead the big ship began to drop speed quickly, falling out of starflight. That was the age-old gesture of surrender, the crew offering the ship intact in exchange for their lives. Barthan honored the request, falling back slightly from his attack position. Taking a ship intact was a rare and welcome occurrence, but this once Barthan regretted it. He disliked having to see Velmeran’s prediction prove true.
“They are giving up without a fight,” he reported. “Have the capture ships move in.”
“No, let it sit!” Velmeran interrupted. “It is going to explode if we try to move it.”
There followed a long, uneasy silence as Valthyrra considered that. The odds were getting uncomfortably high against her now. Velmeran had called it twice in a row on this ship, and it seemed logical to suppose that he really did know what he was talking about. Logic also told her that he could not possibly know. The unavoidable fact that she was ultimately a machine was to her disadvantage in this matter. In the end she could trust only what she could see.
“Velmeran, I am not going to argue with you,” she decided at last. “You have given your warning, and that is the limit of your responsibility. I am bringing it in.”
“Now I know how Cassandra felt,” Velmeran muttered in disgust.
And, like Cassandra, he was ignored to the end. The crew and a fair number of passengers had just escaped in a pair of launches, and now the Methryn’s capture ships approached. Two of the curious machines moved in to either side of the silent drive housing, unfolding their three pairs of handling arms to lock themselves tight against the hull. Velmeran remained close the entire time. Valthyrra might have relieved him of responsibility in this matter, but his own conscience had not. The two capture ships, working in unison, used their own engines to accelerate their burden gently back toward the Methryn.
“Clear out!” Velmeran ordered suddenly. “That ship has a sentient computer system, and it is waking up to carry out its final orders. Get away from it now!”
His warning was no longer necessary, for every Starwolf inside the Methryn and out could sense the main generators of the ship as they powered up. A moment later the freighter fired its engines and began to fight the capture ships for control. In spite of their best efforts to turn it away, the freighter began to accelerate straight toward the Methryn.
“Get clear!” Valthyrra ordered. “Get away from that thing so that I can blast it.”
The two capture ships needed no warning; their crews had begun the task of casting loose the larger ship the moment they realized they could not control it. One of the capture ships leaped clear immediately, but the second had only just released its hold as the freighter came about to orient on the Methryn. Pinned against the freighter, it slipped down the length of her hull, fending off actual collision with its three pairs of handling arms. Suddenly it was brought up short as one of its arms became firmly trapped in the open hatch of a launch bay. The mechanical arm was too tightly pinned to pull free, and too powerfully constructed to rip loose at its joints.
“Methryn, hold your fire!” the pilot of the capture ship called frantically. “I have an arm caught in something. I cannot pull free.”
“Valthyrra, keep your distance from the thing,” Velmeran advised. “Try to get it to chase after you. Buy us time. Capture ship, maneuver around to stretch that trapped arm out to its full length. Retract the others out of the way, and stand ready to run.”
Velmeran darted in beside the massive drive housing of the freighter, orienting on the relatively small shape of the pinned capture ship. As he closed, he sighted on the outstretched arm that pinned the capture ship and fired. Bolts from his fighter’s cannons bit into the hard metal of the arm, blasting through in an explosion of superheated metal. Velmeran knew that he had run out of time; the freighter had cut acceleration, which meant that it was working its generators to a forced overload. The capture ship shot away as the arm snapped and Velmeran circled around to follow. In the next instant the freighter exploded with a force that would have shattered a small planet.
That blast of raw energy expanded outward in a fiery sphere, for an instant assuming the size and brilliance of a star before it began to dissipate rapidly. With nothing left to feed those flames, it was gone in almost the next instant. The freighter itself had been vaporized in that blast, leaving only a scorched capture ship still running under its own power, and the battered shell of a single fighter. It tumbled end over end, its wings and fins ripped away and its hull cracked and broken, so hot that twisted portions of it glowed dull red.
“Velmeran?” Valthyrra called anxiously.