Velmeran did not need long to find the tunnel entrance, for it bore its own markers. Two red beacons pierced the murky water, below which shone the white radiance of the tunnel's lights, illuminating the striking blue of the tunnel walls. He aimed his ship toward that opening, aligning with the passage early both to insure that his shields would be centered and to have a look up the tunnel. Activating his accessory cannon, he began his run. He was committed now. If he did find the passage blocked, the cannon had better be enough to clear it. Otherwise the others would be alerted to his failure by the explosion of his ship.
His fighter shot up the tunnel like a bullet within the barrel of a rifle. Soon he could see that the passage was clear to its end, although the illumination decreased to almost total blackness near the far end so that no betraying glow would be seen from the inside. He had passed two sets of sea doors, both invitingly open. Were the Lakes so confident that this way would remain unknown that these doors were always open? Or were those doors for use only in severe weather outside, isolating the underground lake from betraying disturbances?
Velmeran's fighter shot out into the lake and he arched up sharply before he ran out of traveling room. The calm lake suddenly erupted into violence, a massive column of water rising toward the cavern ceiling as it was carried aloft in the atmospheric shield, collapsing back like a fountain as it was discharged. Velmeran followed the curve of the cavern roof, dropping his atmospheric shield altogether and bringing up his debris shield and defensive screens. Even as the column of water collapsed it leaped back up again, each time ejecting a black fighter.
At first the fighters flew high over the city as the packs reformed, then dived down in groups to dodge and dart among the buildings and avenues. For the first minute or so they might almost have been at play, slipping in and out among the suspended walkways and elevated tramways, making it plain to anyone about that Starwolves were here and they should take cover, which they did quickly, the small, early morning crowds seeming to evaporate in an instant.
Now the Starwolves went to work, turning their lesser guns on unimportant targets. Most of those packs were there just to create a diversion, darting in and out so fast that the entire city seemed overrun by thousands of wolf ships, keeping the population frightened and in hiding. Skyways and tram tracks collapsed under their assault. Wooded parks and sculptured gardens exploded in flames from the bolts of their larger cannons. The Starwolves had no complaint against the civilian population, and they destroyed nothing that could not be easily repaired.
Only the Unioners knew what they thought of the sudden plague of Starwolves inside their impenetrable city. Only a very few knew of the underwater tunnel and, with the dome still intact, there was no logical explanation for how they might have appeared. And once inside the cavern, there was nothing that could be done about them. All the planetary defenses lay outside. And Union pilots could not get their own fighters and stingships inside, even if the Starwolves had. For once they held an entire city for ransom, for as long as they dared.
The only thing that Councilor Lake could think about that morning was that it was entirely too early to be up and about, especially after spending half the night and a bottle of wine with a trade delegation. But this was the time to act on getting these new missiles installed in a number of freighters for a better test of their effectiveness. Especially since he and Donalt Trace were in complete disagreement on the effectiveness of the last test.
"I consider it a success, since it did kill a Starwolf," Trace argued. He was seated at his desk, reading the review of the incident, while his uncle stood near the window that overlooked the city.
"And I consider it a failure, since we lost the freighter," Lake countered. "Obviously our goals differ."
"Are you telling me that you would just as well abandon this entire project?"
"No, not yet," the Councilor said, turning to look out the window.
The first thing he saw was a familiar black shape streak past. He blinked, but it was already gone and he was not even sure that he had seen it. Had it been only a manifestation of his fears come to haunt him? Of the wine? His senility? But he looked again, this time more closely, and saw that his beautiful city was being overrun with wolf ships. How could an invasion force have gotten this far without his being aware? The dome shield was rigged to fail, but only after a few determined shots that he would have heard. And yet, when he glanced up, he could plainly see that the dome was still intact. Suddenly he understood — only too well. He had left the door open for them.
"Don, do you remember that young Starwolf we had up for dinner?" he asked casually.
"What, Velmeran?" Trace asked without looking up from the report he was reading. "What of it?"
"Well, he seems to be paying us a return visit."
The Sector Commander glanced up, and saw at once what he had meant. It seemed that wolf ships were coming out of nowhere to fill the interior of the cavern. And he knew exactly what it meant. He leaped from his seat and was out the door before his uncle could do a thing to stop him.
"Don! Wait!" Councilor Lake called after him. "You are running into a trap. What do you think you can do about it?"
He paused, aware that it was already too late. Donalt Trace was running to meet his fate at the hands of a Starwolf he owed a life. It did not matter that he knew where to find Velmeran, for that knowledge in itself did not give him the power to stop it. Would he realize that in time to save his life?
It took less than two minutes to get all the packs inside the city. By that time the streets of Vannkam were completely deserted; if modern man was not as intelligent as his predecessors, he was also less brave. The Starwolves prowled the passages of the city that, by all appearances, was completely empty, a marked contrast to the Vannkam they knew on port leave. As long as they did not fire directly into the shops and buildings, there was little danger of hurting anyone.
The city was not completely defenseless, although it might as well have been. Scores of automated sentries began to amble out of the many buildings, alerted to the attack by their master controllers. These machines were never intended to fight; they served police duty, walking the halls of empty buddings at night or strolling dimly lit walkways. Even their biggest guns were inadequate against the defensive shields of the black fighters. Once the Starwolves realized what was firing at them, they began to use the automatons for target practice.
As soon as all of their ships were inside the cavern, three of the packs broke off from the rest to gather in loose formation above the city. The transport, the last ship to emerge from the lake, hurried to join them.
"Baress, are you ready?" Velmeran asked over ship's com. In a sense, Baress had the most important task. They could leave without the memory cell if they got into serious trouble. But they could not easily get away until he destroyed the generators that powered the dome shield and planetary defenses.
"Ready and willing," he replied, breaking away from Velmeran's pack to set himself in the lead position for the others.
Baressa and Kalgeran led their own packs as they followed him, shooting across the city. The entrance of the corridor leading to the power complex lay in the north wall of the cavern, down at street level. It was a tight fit for the fighter, but no more than the underwater tunnel. Here, however, they could expect some opposition, sentries and guards with guns, and blast doors that could be secured. Baress would go in first to lead the way, and his fighter had enough firepower to clear any obstacle except solid rock. He found the entrance and dropped down to street level, beginning his run.