“Very well,” Maeken replied uncertainly, ill at ease since there was nothing she could physically address. “Your destination, course, and speed are listed in your records. Have you scanned your flight information?”
“Yes, Captain. We are clear to proceed.”
“Then you may get under way when ready,” Maeken instructed. “Please inform your support convoy to follow at the prescribed distance.”
“Yes, Captain. I am beginning acceleration now.”
The beast was moving? Maeken glanced about the bridge; wondering if they were going to maintain this leisurely pace all the way into light speed. Officers were seated at their consoles on the main bridge, several steps lower than her own raised platform, watching attentively as the machine ran itself.
“We are under way and moving toward our assigned flight path,” the ship reported. “System control reports all clear. Do you have any additional orders?”
“No, that is all,” Maeken replied, hoping that she had told the beast everything it needed to know to get itself under way. “Get me Commander Trace on the com.”
“One moment.”
“Trace here,” he answered almost immediately.
“Yes, Commander, the ship informs me that we are under way,” Maeken said, leaning over the microphone in the arm of the chair. “Everything seems to be functioning perfectly.”
“Excellent! What do you think of her?”
“Ah… ask me again when I have seen if it can fight.”
Trace laughed. “Too slow for a warship? I’m afraid that the Starwolves still have us beat in that regard. If she gives you any problems, just tell her to explain herself.”
“Yes, Commander,” Maeken answered, and hoped that she did not sound too dubious in that reply. She shrugged to herself and leaned back in her oversize chair, watching numeric and graphic displays flash across the main viewscreen superimposed on the starfield that was the ship’s forward view. Most of it was beyond her present understanding.
“Computer?” she asked suddenly, remembering one important omission.
“Yes, Captain?”
“Do you have a name?”
“Yes, Captain. I have a name for my own use, as does the ship itself,” it explained. “I am Marenna Challenger.”
Maeken nodded to herself. This ship was a perfect antithesis of a Starwolf carrier. She was impressed, although not greatly. But she was hopeful. Soon they would see if the theory behind this ship was as sound as Commander Trace obviously believed. The Fortress was going out to hunt.
3
Consherra knew that something was wrong when she saw Velmeran enter the bridge, fully dressed in armor. The Methryn was hunting, laying in wait beside a major lane, and her on-duty personnel had to remain suited and ready for battle. But that did not include Velmeran, since his pack was not due to go out. She slipped out of her seat on the middle bridge and hurried to him, leading him back from the bridge into the outer corridor. She was surprised when he responded to her attentions by holding her close and kissing her. Velmeran turned to her in open affection of his own initiative only when he felt troubled and insecure.
“Trouble?” she asked, reluctant to end this rare moment.
“The worst,” he answered. “Do you recall when I was laying plans for our raid on Vannkarn? I was uncertain that anyone would believe in me.”
“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.”