The Starwolves

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  "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."

  "What?" Trace demanded incredulously, his consternation growing when he realized that he had no options. "How did you do that?"

  "It was just luck, I am sure," the Starwolf replied, his innocent tone all the more mocking. "I certainly am not smart enough to have figured that out for myself."

  "You were smoke-screened," Councilor Lake said, laughing.

  Commander Trace could see that he had been tricked, but he still refused to believe that a Starwolf could defeat him outright. The second time Velmeran led him through an elaborate pretense in a game that lasted nearly half an hour, letting him build up his confidence before moving in for a sudden and unexpected kill. And for their third game Velmeran defeated him in only five moves, just to prove that he could. By then Trace decided that Velmeran was a practiced master at the game and refused to play again.

  Donalt surrendered his seat to his uncle after the third game. Privately he believed that if anyone – human – could defeat this Starwolf, it would be Councilor Lake. But at that moment, even before the game began, Javarns entered with a message.

  "Excuse me, Commander," the servant said from a safe distance, hardly daring to enter the room. "Your secretary is calling. It seems that a courier has arrived from Bineck. The Station Commander has come himself and wishes to speak with you."

  "I am sure he does!" Commander Trace remarked sarcastically. "Lie to me, more likely. Starwolf, you must have hit that place hard for him to come himself. You were there. Special tactics, I believe you called it. Can you give me an honest report?"

  "We got what we were after and got away," Dveyella replied. "My ship was scorched in an explosion, but that was the extent of our damage. We did not leave much of the station, I fear. That was the diversion that got us back out."

  "So I thought," Trace said as he rose, and bowed to the Starwolves. "Will you excuse me? This has been a... memorable evening."

  "Well, my young Starwolf, you have just met the Commander of the Rane Sector Fleet," Lake said after his nephew was gone. "You have made a reluctant friend, but also a bitter rival."

  "A rival?" Velmeran asked, sitting comfortably back in his own chair.

  "Certainly. You have proven yourself superior to him at the chessboard, and that was surely a terrible blow to his pride. I suspect that he will not be satisfied until he has challenged you in real battle."

  "But how could I be of any consequence to him?" Velmeran asked. "He is a Sector Commander. I am just a Starwolf, a junior pack leader."

  Councilor Lake brushed that aside impatiently. "I may know little of your kind, but it seems obvious to me that you are something special. If all Starwolves are like you, then heaven help us. I only have one Don."

  "You seem to place a great deal of faith in him," Velmeran observed.

  "Don is my weapon, carefully and completely trained for the sole purpose of defeating Starwolves," Lake said with deliberate pomposity, underscoring his own lack of enthusiasm. "Don's entire life is designed around a single function. One day if all goes according to plan, he will fight Starwolves and win. Or he will himself be destroyed in the attempt."

  "You do not seem to be particularly concerned, whichever way it might turn out."

  The Councilor sat back in his chair, frowning in serious reflection. "I think that I am going to tell you something that could get me shot for treason if certain of my colleagues found out. Although you people do not realize it you have won the war. The Union is on the decline, in terms of population, economics, industry and technology at a rate so alarming that not one member of the High Council can deny that our doom is at hand. The Union is so overgrown that it will take awhile for the beast to die. And after five hundred centuries, another ten or so is not all that long.

  "Now I do not want you people taking credit, as patient as you have been. You have been bleeding us steadily for quite some time, but you have not been a direct threat to our survival since the days of the big battles. Now, however, we suffer from so many ills that your actions can mean life or death to us. And this is the time that will decide our future. If Don can turn the war against you in his own lifetime, then there is a chance that our civilization will get up off its deathbed and start growing again. If he fails, we will not have a second chance."

  "But if we are not destroying the Union, what is?" Velmeran asked.

  "We see the results, but we can only argue the cause," Lake explained. "Personally, I believe it is because we were not meant for civilized life. Nature gave us hands and a brain so that we could tie a rock to a stick to make a better club. All the rest has been our own idea. Then we began the process of removing ourselves from our environment, the circumstances and conditions that shaped us. Our evolution has stalled out; our civilization promises equal chances for both the weak and strong, and nature intended harsher rules. Cut off from any shaping influence, our species has begun to decline right down to the genetic level.

  "The genetic code that defines a human is becoming too foggy and ragged to read properly. Over a third of our population is genetically sterile. Random mutation has driven infant mortality to levels that we have not known since the dark ages. Mental deficiency and mental imbalance claim a quarter of the population. Do you wonder if we are not in trouble? Our race is dying out, for want of proper maintenance."

  "But, is this so throughout the Union?" Velmeran asked.

  "No, not everywhere," Councilor Lake said, shaking his head. "Three highly mutated races are thriving – or would if we left them alone. And the independent merchants are themselves a race apart. Those four groups might survive, but I doubt that any one of them will replace us. Only you people can do that."

  "Us?" Velmeran asked, surprised.

  "Yes, of course you." The Councilor drained his glass in a quick swallow and reached for the decanter. "You people are best suited for life as a space-faring race, and for all the reasons that we are not. Machines are your native environment; they can neither dominate nor intimidate you. Have you ever considered the civilization you would build, the lives you would lead, once freed of the task you were made for?"

  "Why do you think I fight you?" Velmeran asked in return. "It was intended that we reestablish the Terran Republic, and then remain to defend it. I doubt that it was intended that we should replace you."

  "That is fairly much what is likely to happen," Councilor Lake said. "Soon the day will come that we can no longer fight you. The Union will be dissolved and your Republic will return, and the Starwolves will be left to nurse humanity through its old age."

  The Councilor sat back and drained his second glass, then crossed his arms and sighed heavily. "That might seem a very dismal prospect, at least for us. But I am satisfied. So many ages have come and gone, and they left nothing behind but ruins. At least we are fortunate enough to have you. The Starwolves are our replacement, made to order, man's own idea of what the superman should be. You are the offspring of the human race, whoever made you. And, I will be the first to admit, you are our betters."

  "Then why do you fight us?" Velmeran asked inn
ocently.

  Councilor Lake afforded him a startled glance. "Because I am human, for good or ill, and I will not go down without a fight. And I am Jon Lake, High Councilor and ultimate ruler of this entire sector. We have each inherited a duty and I will do what I can to buy time for the Union, even knowing that it must be defeated in the end."

  Velmeran only shook his head. "I still do not understand."

  "Really?" Lake asked. "I had thought you might. We each have a duty, being who and what we are. The only difference is that my duty is at odds with my conscience. To ease my conscience, the least – and yet the most – that I can do is to warn you of what is coming."

  He paused a moment, glancing quickly about the room as if to see if they were indeed alone, then leaned closer to the two Starwolves. "The best minds, human and mechanical, at our service have long been contemplating the problem of fighting and destroying Starwolves. Now we are ready to test our ideas. The first you have seen, and dealt with effectively. The second trap for your fighters is something that you have not seen in a long time, and I fear that it will take Starwolf lives before you remember how to deal with it. The third is something altogether new – Don's own idea, I might add – and that, my friends, is a truly awesome weapon that could well be a threat even to your big ships. Now, that is all the warning that I can allow myself to give. Make of it what you can."

  * * * *

  "I am sorry that Don could not make it back," Councilor Lake said as he escorted his guests to the door. "He was on remarkably good behavior tonight. I think he learned a thing or two."

  "So have we all," Velmeran answered as Javarns assisted him with his cape.

  "Yes, so have we all," Lake agreed. "But I am satisfied... Ah, that will be all, Javarns."

  "Very good, sir," Javarns said, turning away. "I will get the valuables back out of hiding."

  "Don't let him fool you," Lake said quietly. "I think he was delighted to have a chance to take a good close look at Starwolves."

  "Perhaps, but he will never trust us," Dveyella said.

  "At least he learned that you are not murderers and thieves."

  "Shall we do it again sometime?" Velmeran asked.

  "Of course. Your place, next time?" the Councilor asked, smiling mischievously.

  "You will probably be welcome, but call ahead for reservations." Velmeran paused a moment, and reached into his belt pocket to pull out a wallet. "Give this to Javarns with my compliments. He will probably want it back."

  Dveyella frowned and drew a watch from her own belt pocket. "He will probably want this back as well."

  -11-

  "This has been a strange night, and no doubt about it," Dveyella remarked. "Still, I would not have missed it."

  Their tram glided silently atop its elevated rail across the width of the city. It was near the middle of the night; the walks and avenues were nearly deserted, and the city lighting had been reduced to a gentle, velvety twilight. By this time there was hardly anyone about but Starwolves, and they had the city mostly to themselves.

  When Velmeran did not comment in turn, Dveyella glanced over at him. He sat alone and, for the moment, seemingly unaware of her presence, so lost he was in his own thoughts. She walked over and sat down close beside him. "Meran, do you know what to make of it all?"

  Velmeran frowned and shook his head helplessly. "I feel like we are living out that chess game. Councilor Lake has explained the rules, and now he has turned over his seat to the Sector Commander for us to play out the game. I only hope we do as well in life as we did in practice."

  "We?" Dveyella asked, and shook her head. "You, Meran. This game is yours. Do you accept what he told you?"

  He shrugged. "I do not yet know what to think. The good Councilor Lake might have been in his cups for all I know, considering how well he likes his wine. There is some investigating I mean to do, and I intend to check his theories with a higher authority."

  "Who?"

  "Valthyrra Methryn, of course. But, beyond that, it is not my concern. I am only a pack leader, and I can do nothing but pass on the warning. Still, it does explain one thing."

  "What?"

  "Lately I have seen Union officers and Commanders try things that were incomprehensible except for the excuse of rank stupidity, and I have always found that hard to believe. Perhaps that is exactly the case after all."

  "Well, I want you to explain one thing to me," Dveyella said firmly. "What was all that business about Valtrytians? I know that the Aldessan are not one of our grand secrets, but we generally do not talk about them either."

  "I know," Velmeran agreed. "But it did have its desired effect."

  "What effect?" she demanded.

  "Councilors and Sector Commanders through the years have dreamed of defeating the Starwolves," he explained. "I just thought that it should be understood that, should the Union ever manage to get rid of the Starwolves, it would still have the Valtrytians to face."

  "Oh, I see," Dveyella replied thoughtfully, and smiled. "Meran, you are diabolical."

  Velmeran nodded. "It runs in the family."

  "So what are we going to do about it?"

  "About what?" Velmeran asked, but she quickly signaled him to silence. The tram glided up to its boarding platform, and the door snapped open. Dveyella took him by each of his left arms and all but pulled him out of the car. He did not even have a chance to protest until she had him outside and halfway down the boarding ramp.

  "Surveillance," she explained. "Starwolves are under constant surveillance – so is just about everyone else, for that matter. And what I am going to tell you is the last thing that I would have overheard. They cannot listen in if we are in the open."

  "How is that?" Velmeran asked. "They would have sonic scanners."

  "But I have a drone," she said, indicating the small device at her belt. "It broadcasts both a high-frequency tone and a jamming wave at matching frequencies, producing a pulsing vibration that blocks both conventional microphones and the crystal receivers of sonic scanners. All they can pick up is a droning sound."

  "How did you come by such a thing?"

  "Special tactics. We like to make a personal reconnaissance, when we can. And we do not want our plans overheard. And be careful to speak only Tresdyland. As far as we can tell, it is an unknown language to the Union."

  They came to the edge of the underground lake and Dveyella paused to look over the edge of the thick cement rail into the dark water far below. The lake was not a natural feature of the cavern; rectangular in shape, two hundred meters wide by three hundred long and smoothly cemented all around, it looked more like an immense swimming pool. The back end ran up against the cavern wall, while the inner end, where they now stood, cut well into the city. The south side was dominated by the port hotel, while the north side, steeply terraced and overgrown with carefully tended gardens, harbored the very best of the city's shops and outdoor restaurants.

  "It happened when I was here about thirty-five years ago," she explained. "I was just a new pilot in the pack then, so it was that I was poking about the city alone. I was standing at this very place when I saw a large, dark shape moving toward me underwater. The thing was nearly twenty meters in length and it passed beneath the street directly below me, and as it did I could see clearly that it was a machine.

  "After that I did a little investigating. First, I discovered that the lake is seawater. Then I found that it has a tide; the entire level rises five centimeters for noon tide. The lake is down in this hole so that its level is that of the sea. And there is a tunnel directly across from here, in the outer wall; the sea is seven kilometers in that direction. This, my friend, is a secret way into the city, a bolt hole for high officials should Vannkarn ever come under attack."

  Velmeran leaned well out over the rail to peer down into the water, although the only thing he could see was his own wavering reflection. He glanced back at Dveyella. "This is how you propose to get into the city?"

  "Of course."

/>   "Do you also propose to swim?"

  "No, we fly in," she replied, obviously pleased with herself. "Seawater is hardly more dense than some of the mediums we can fly in, such as deep into the outer layers of the gas giants."

  "Water has no compressibility," Velmeran pointed out, although hesitantly. Already he could see a way around that.

  "Atmospheric shields can be adapted to handle that," Dveyella provided the answer for him. "Compressibility is no problem when you are flying inside a column of water moving at graduated speeds. I have worked out the modifications that permit it, and the computer promises that it will work. And what works for a fighter will work for our modified transport – which we will need to carry the memory cell out of here."

  Velmeran glanced at her sharply. "This is not Bineck; you know that. Surveillance is too tight."

  She only shook her head. "We can always get down undetected through the magnetic corridor, and Vinthra's magnetism is proportionally strong enough to offset its more advanced scanners. And we will fly underwater from the core of the magnetic corridor to the sea entrance. It will take a couple of hours' travel time due to reduced speed, but it will work."

  Velmeran paused a moment to consider that. If they could just get fighters into the cavern undetected, then they could get what they wanted and be away with little trouble through the dome – by shutting down the protective shields from the inside.

  "The first thing is to prove that a fighter actually can fly underwater," he said. "We are going to need a lot of help, and a little proof can break through quite a lot of resistance."

  "Of course," Dveyella said. "What do you think I want you for?"

  "Me? You want me to test the theory?"

  "It is no theory. The computer says that you can take a fighter up to nearly four thousand kilometers per hour underwater."

  "Then I will do it," Velmeran reluctantly agreed. "But I want to see your computations."

  "Of course!" she laughed. "Come along. In spite of Councilor Lake's generosity, I am still hungry. Besides, I do not want us to be seen standing here too long."