“Val, this was supposed to be audio only,” Gelrayen complained softly as he realizing that the ship must be supplying a visual image through her own camera pod. “Well, yes Commander. That was Valthyrra’s suggestion actually. We are keeping portions of the ship warmer than usual, for Captain Tarrel’s comfort.”
“Very considerate, especially considering that we supplied her with self-warming clothing before the Methym departed,” Asandi observed, seeming to realize that someone had been having a little joke at the expense of the Starwolves, known for their unfortunate tendency to be a little too gullible. “We will be having a quick meeting to discuss your observations as soon as you can secure the Methryn in her bay. I might add that most of us do plan to dress for the occasion. I will see you soon.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Gelrayen replied, then glared at the camera pod. “Valthyrra Methryn, I was worried enough about our credibility as it was.”
“Commander, I never honestly expected you to go along with that silly idea in the first place,” Valthyrra told him. “You could have simply said no.”
Actually, Valthyrra knew perfectly well that it was entirely her own fault. She had never taken advantage of anyone in her life, even as a jest, and she had found it impossible to resist. Digging into her vast archives of information, she had been able to tell Gelrayen that the Kelvessan had not been allowed to wear clothing, except for their armor, for the first five thousand years of their existence, a time when nudity had been a sign of their status as the property of the Republic as an artificial race. They had gotten into the habit of wearing clothes, and then only when it pleased them, simply because they were now allowed to. No member of the Methryn’s crew had thought to ask what relevance that had to the present situation. Being motivated by an instinct to be helpful, they had gone along with the scheme.
For her own part, Captain Tarrel had done nothing to interfere. She was not entirely certain, but she believed that it had been good for them. Of the few known intelligent races, only humans and Kelvessan were in the habit of wearing clothes. The Kelvessan had no racial identity beyond the rather uncomfortable association of being an artificial race — property and genetic weapons of war but not real people — and they were very good at avoiding the question of what their true identity should be. As long as they could hide their alien and yet vaguely human forms in clothes, then they were able to wrap themselves in the illusion that they were in some obscure manner mostly human. Forcing them to look at themselves, in the collective sense and meaning no vulgar innuendoes that did not apply, also seemed to force them to think about just what it meant to be Kelvessan.
Captain Tarrel had various reasons to be interested in this experiment, enough so that she had actually spoken privately with Valthyrra Methryn on the matter. Whether they knew it or not, the Kelvessan wanted a racial identity of their own. And if they came to feel secure and satisfied as a race in their own right, they probably would lose interest in maintaining the endless war that they had been bred to fight. Either they would go their own way and leave human space to deal with itself, or they would contrive a quick end to the war on terms they would be prepared to enforce. Whichever way things turned out, Tarrel believed that it would be best for everyone involved.
Valthyrra had agreed that it did the Kelvessan good to face such questions, but she doubted that they would come to any sudden answers, although she did agree that beginning the process now would help them to work their way slowly toward a solution over the next few generations. As she pointed out, the real problem that the Kelvessan faced was only of physical appearance; the fact that they still looked vaguely human kept them trapped in the illusion that they needed to act human. The Aldessan of Valtrys, who had executed their actual genetic design, had done them no favor in failing to make their appearance alien and unique enough to differentiate them. Valthyrra was even prepared to suggest that they would be well served by some additional genetic modifications that would be passed through their entire race over the next few generations and slowly alter their appearance, perhaps changing the complete shape of their faces and giving them a full coat of fur.
The Methryn was assigned a construction bay, the very same where she had spent the first six decades of her existence. Once she had dropped her great speed coming down from starflight and had installed herself in orbit, getting herself back inside the bay was simple enough. Such maneuvers were accomplished entirely on field drive, and that was her one function that was not impaired. Valthyrra settled herself into the docking brackets quickly and deftly.
“Secure the ship, and stand by to switch over to external power as soon as the connections are complete,” Gelrayen ordered, then glanced up at the camera pod with a sour expression.
“You might also decrease the ship’s temperature to the normal levels and ask the crew to dress for company.”
“Perhaps they should,” Valthyrra agreed grudgingly. Captain Tarrel accompanied Commander Gelrayen and Valthyrra Methryn into the station only a few minutes later, giving them all just enough time to dress for the occasion. For the sake of convenience, Valthyrra had transferred one aspect of her awareness into a probe, one of the small remotes just like the one that had gone outside the ship with Captain Tarrel in the hopeless attempt to stop Walter Pesca from detonating the missile he had stolen. Valthyrra kept the small machine’s wings fully swept back, making it less cumbersome in the corridors of the station.
Fleet Commander Asandi was waiting for them outside the meeting room, where the Commanders of the other carriers in system and many other Kelvessan had begun to gather as soon as the Methryn had arrived. “Captain Tarrel, I cannot tell you how sorry I am about your young companion.”
“It was entirely my own fault,” she insisted. “I should have been more aware of his condition, but my thoughts were on other problems. I knew that he was having trouble, but I never realized how much.”
“Well, we do appreciate what you have done for us,” Asandi assured her. “Valthyrra, I still feel very bad about asking you to go out and risk such damage on your first flight.”
“It is my job,” the ship replied simply.
“I will get you replacement components as soon as they become available,” he promised her. “Commander Gelrayen, I hardly recognized you.”
Kelvessan did not blush, but Gelrayen still managed to look embarrassed. “That was actually Valthyrra’s idea.”
“And a long story, no doubt. Perhaps it can wait until after this meeting is concluded.”
They were hurried into the meeting room and took their seats; Valthyrra settled her probe on the arms of her own chair, having observed that the remotes sent by several of the other ships had done the same. Captain Tarrel was led to wonder about this apparent change of policy, since none of the ships had themselves been present at any meetings during her previous visit to Alkayja station. Valthyrra began the discussion with a detailed account of her own experiences with the Dreadnought, concluding with a display of the single image of the machine that she had captured when it had lost its shield.
“I was given the opportunity to acquire additional information concerning many of those questions about the Dreadnought that we have been trying to answer,” she said. “I still do not believe that it is fully self-aware, or many of its actions would have been more subtle. But just how clever is it? None of its actions during this incident indicated that it is very clever at all. It responds most often in a very simple, automatic manner. But we have in the past seen it function in a more clever, even unpredictable manner. My own conclusion is that it is a machine, but one that we must be careful not to underestimate.