"Perhaps you still hold the mistaken idea that we were bred out of human stock," Dveyella said. "But that is not so. We were generated out of an entirely artificial reserve of genetic stock. Culturally we share a part of the same heritage. Physiologically we are so unrelated that we can barely share the same environment or eat the same food."
"Yes, I can see that," Trace agreed. "As you may know, legend has it that Starwolves were created by interbreeding humans with wolfish traits."
"No, our name refers only to our manner of attack," she explained. "We began by calling our fighter groups 'wolf packs'; you were the ones who gave us the name Starwolves. Besides, we are in general agreement that the wolf was a legendary creature that never actually existed."
Councilor Lake stared at her in surprise. "Is that so?"
"It is only a theory, but a sound one," she said. "Wolves were described throughout ancient legend and literature as possessing a wide variety of magical traits. They were given the power of speech in every old legend that I can recall. Shakespeare placed them firmly among all other magical creatures. Tolkien went so far as to suggest that they were only spirits of darkness who could not bear the light of day."
"You certainly seem knowledgeable of scholarly matters," Lake observed, seemingly amused. "Hardly what I would expect of a warrior."
"We all have selective total recall," she explained. "When you have been around for a few years, you tend to accumulate an amazing volume of facts and information. Nor have we ever been under the impression that ignorance is necessarily a soldierly attribute."
The old Councilor nearly choked on his wine, especially when it became apparent that the Sector Commander was unaware that he had been insulted.
Dinner and dessert were soon past and Councilor Lake retired with his guests to the game room. The Councilor was able, with Dveyella's help, to convince Velmeran to meet his challenge in a game of chess. The Starwolf was not at all certain that he wanted to cross wits with the Councilor in so direct a manner, especially since he was under the disadvantage of having no familiarity with the game. He was no more pleased when Donalt Trace took his uncle's place at the game table. Councilor Lake quickly recited the rules, plainly dubious that even a Starwolf's absolute recall was up to such a challenge.
"Are you ready?" Trace asked, equally dubious.
"Yes, of course," Velmeran assured him.
"Oh? Then proceed."
"After you," Velmeran offered in return. The Sector Commander sat in silence for a long moment as he contemplated his strategy, carefully selecting a pawn and moving it forward in bold attack. Velmeran casually sent out a pawn of his own, and the battle continued briskly for several moves to come. After that the Sector Commander began to slow down, although Velmeran continued to move pieces as if he selected them at random.
"If I may be so bold," Councilor Lake said hesitantly to Dveyella, who sat beside him on the sofa beside the game table. He spoke slowly, obviously embarrassed. "Since you ladies only come to port in armor, there is no way to tell. But I have always wondered — since you have two sets of arms — whether you also have two sets of breasts."
Dveyella sat for a moment in bemused silence, the only sound that of her suit cycling on. Before she could reply, Trace roared aloud with laughter. "Ah, you lecherous old fool! There are no wolfettes among the pictures in those magazines you have taken to looking at… to refresh your memory in your old age."
Councilor Lake swatted indignantly at the accusing finger that was waving in his direction. "There is nothing wrong with my memory. I look at those pictures to remind myself that I am not so old after all."
"Can a horse do this?" Velmeran asked suddenly.
"Yes, a knight can do that," Trace snapped.
"We have only the one set," Dveyella answered softly.
Councilor Lake only shook his head slowly. "It still amazes me, the knowledge our ancestors must have had to build those big ships and then fill them with Starwolves. We could not hope to duplicate either."
"We have never tried," Trace remarked without looking up. The two Starwolves tried not to look surprised, but to them that was a dire threat. The only thing they could not fight was themselves.
"Actually, our genetic design and engineering was accomplished by the Aldessan of Valtrys," Dveyella said quickly, changing the subject.
Commander Trace stared at her in open amazement. "Valtrytians? Now you speak of myths and legends."
"Not so," Velmeran insisted. "The language that we speak among ourselves is Tresdyland, the language of the Aldessan. And our names are of Valtrytian origin."
"Then you have seen a Valtrytian?" the Councilor asked, greatly awed.
"No, but I have seen their ships," Velmeran replied. "There is considerable trade between us, and they are always there to help."
That, Dveyella realized, was a slight but obvious exaggeration. But she also believed that, whatever he was leading to, he had just made his point and these two worthies had swallowed the bait. And the Sector Commander must have swallowed his whole; he sat back in his chair, his arms crossed, and snorted with derision at the young Starwolf's apparent inability to protect trade secrets.
"So that is it. I always did wonder what you pirates did with all the loot you do not sell back, and who maintains your technology," he said. "But what do the Valtrytians have against us?"
Velmeran shrugged innocently. "They do not like the way you do business."
"And what business is that of theirs?"
"The Aldessan are a very old and wise race," he explained. "They have a strong belief in the concepts of freedom, self-determination and the rights of the individual. Naturally they find you objectionable."
"That still does not make it any of their concern."
"Your great and glorious Union is of no concern to them. If you had ever become a big enough nuisance to be a problem to them, then you would have learned the meaning of real trouble. As it is, they have only provided technical assistance to the Terran Republic in the matter of ships and pilots."
"But there is no Terran Republic." Trace pointed out what seemed obvious.
"We are the Terran Republic," Velmeran said.
"You? Just look at you! A band of thieves, dependent upon your petty piracy to keep food in your bellies and your ships in space."
"We may not be Robin Hood," Velmeran replied evenly. "But you are hardly democracy and free enterprise, whatever you pretend. We have kept you to your own space for fifty thousand years. Enough said?"
Trace looked at him in surprise, recalling only too well how the Union had declined, and knowing that the Starwolf spoke the truth. Then he sat back and laughed. "Yes, we do understand each other. We know, beneath all the rhetoric, how matters really stand."
Velmeran smiled. "At least you are an honest man."
"And you are a pert Starwolf," Trace answered. He moved a piece, then watched closely as Velmeran moved another. He glanced up reprovingly at his opponent. "You cannot play chess defensively, or you have lost from the start. You have to make sacrifices."
"I know what I am doing," Velmeran replied. "I refuse to make sacrifices. It is a wasteful, careless way to make war."
"It is only a game!" Trace replied with enough irritation to prove that beating this Starwolf was a matter of life and death.
"You know, Don, there is some logic in that," Lake said.
"What?" Trace stared at him in disbelief. "He has yet to come up with anything I recognize as a strategy. This game will be over in a minute."
"No doubt," Velmeran agreed quietly.
They proceeded in silence through two more rounds of moves before Trace sent his queen in for the kill with a decisive gesture. "Check."
Velmeran shook his head. "I think not."
He sent his king to temporary safety. Trace made the first of two moves that would put his opponent's piece back into check. Velmeran ignored it, moving a piece on the other side of the board. "Check."
Momentarily startled, Trace moved his king to safety. Ignoring the rook pursuing his own king, Velmeran sent a bishop in from the other side for the kill. "Checkmate."