Battle of the Ring (15 page)

Finished, she returned to the mirror to admire the results. Obviously she
could not pass herself off as a Starwolf, but she did make a passable Starwolf
pretending to be human. It was a disguise that would not work long, but it
should be enough to get her into a transport and aboard the Methryn. Once on
the ship, she could surely keep herself hidden until they were under way.

Realizing suddenly that she had spent a full hour on her disguise, she
hurried to collect a few things she meant to take with her, mostly extra
clothes. She added to this her helm and navigation manuals and all the
Union credits she had, over eight thousand in all. She was still packing when
she heard her brother enter.

“It’s me,” he called. “Bit of an accident down at
the warehouses, and I got my pants thoroughly soaked helping to clear
boxes.”

At that moment he passed by the door of her room on the way to his own, then
paused and backed up to stand in the doorway. He did not need to ask what she
was planning; that was obvious enough. He also knew better than to try to talk
her out of it, although he did make a token effort.

“Do you really think they’re going to permit that, now?”
he asked. “They’ll throw you out the nearest airlock when they find
you.”

“As that may be,” Lenna agreed. “But I’d rather take
an hour of heaven than stay planet-bound a moment longer. I was born up there,
and it may be that I’ll die up there soon enough. But you worry for
nothing. They’ll not do a thing to hurt me.”

“You’re sure of that, now? You’ve only met the one, and he
threw Lesries through a wall and then shot another to pieces and broke his fool
neck. Some friend you’ve got there, Lenna Makayen, to go betting
your life on his mercy.” He paused a moment to regard her closely.
“Well, I can see for myself that you’re resolved all the same. Be
off with you, then, but hurry. This last hour you couldn’t tell the
howling wind from their little ships going up.”

Lenna stared at him in disbelief. “You’ll not stop me?”

“I thought I made that plain.”

Lenna returned to her hurried packing. “There’s a fair number of
things in the studio I’ve been saving. You can sell them to the next
buyer to come through. Remember that there will be some money coming in on
those limited-edition representations. Keep it.”

“How do I explain your disappearance?”, Iyan asked.
“‘Lenna? Oh, she ran off to join the Starwolves’?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said as she tied the bundle
together. “Say I went back to the Traders. That’s where I’m
likely to end up, so it will likely be the truth in the long run. Tell the
Trade Association to replace me with that kid they’ve had me training.”

“He’s ready?”

“Good enough.”

“And will I be seeing you again?”

She paused and sighed heavily. “How can I say at this time?
Don’t count on it. But if I don’t go out the door now, you’ll
be seeing me again soon.”

“On your way, then,” Iyan said as he stepped back to allow her
out the door. “You be careful, now. What you have in mind is dangerous
enough. But then, you know who you’ve taken up with.”

The problem, of course, was that she did not. She knew that the Methryn was
the abode of such legendary figures as Velmeran, Mayelna, and Valthyrra
Methryn herself, but she also had Sergei to protect her from them. In her own
overactive imagination, Velmeran was a towering, dashingly handsome hulk with
sophisticated wit and daredevil nerve, while Sergei was gentle and pensive.

Her clothing, adequate for a Starwolf, was by no means sufficient to
keep her warm in this weather, and the large bundle under her right arm was a
wearisome burden. She crossed the Mall and left through the door where she had
parted from Velmeran an hour earlier. She could not see five meters ahead
for the snow and mist, and she had no way of knowing if Starwolf transports
were still parked out there, or even for certain where they might be. The
Kelvessa sensed the secondary generators idling in the ships, but she knew only
the direction in which she had seen Velmeran go. Dressed as she was, in this
wind and bitter cold, she would not survive long if she became lost.

Lenna had gone perhaps three-quarters of the distance when she heard the
dull, bone-shaking roar of a transport heading straight up. Seconds later the
curtain of snow parted before her, revealing the right side of a transport
buried up to its hull in a drift. She ran up to the airlock door just behind
the forward cabin and pounded on it with a numbed fist. The door opened
immediately, and a startled Starwolf in black armor stared down at her.

“Are you going up soon?” she called over the wind.

“Right now, in fact. They just called down to say that everyone
was accounted for. Another minute and you would have been left behind.”

He reached down for her bundle. Although it was nearly a third of her
weight, she did her best to lift it up with the contemptuous ease a
Starwolf would have displayed. By the time that she had climbed aboard, the
pilot had gone to stow her package. A lucky guess showed her which button
closed the airlock. She collapsed in one of the four seats behind the forward
cabin, too cold to be properly frightened.

“Did you miss the call?” the pilot asked as he returned.

“I was not in armor, and I did not have a radio,” she explained,
hoping that was a valid excuse. She slipped into the curious Starwolf accent
with amazing ease.

“That must be the best disguise that I have ever seen,” he said
as he passed. “You look almost human.”

“Thanks,” Lenna muttered. The truth was that she was fearful
that melting snow caught in her hair was threatening her makeup.

The pilot took his seat in the forward cabin and she heard him strapping in,
so she did the same. Moments later she felt the transport lift straight up on
its field drive. Then she was flattened into her seat by at least
twenty-five G’s as the little ship climbed steeply. Her space-bred
ancestry allowed her to endure this with little discomfort; no true human could
have remained conscious under that unrelenting stress. Some would not have
survived.

It did not last more than five minutes, presumably all the time it took to
get this ship into orbit. She released her straps and searched the rear cabin
until she found a small mirror. Quickly reassured that her disguise had not
suffered, she went to the forward cabin for a look out its wide windows.

The first thing she saw was the Methryn, no more than twice its own length
away and completely filling the forward view. She had seen pictures of the
carriers and knew their specifics, but nothing could accurately convey the true
size, power, and majesty of these vast ships. The transport overtook the larger
ship rapidly, passing beneath its broad belly, making for the small bay that
stood open near the front, a pocket of intense light against the blackness.

“Who are you, anyway?” the pilot asked as he maneuvered into
position.

“Consherra.” She offered the name of the only female Starwolf
she knew, the one that Velmeran had named his mate.

“Consherra!” the pilot exclaimed incredulously. “Well, you
are late. I had thought that you had not gone down in the first place.”

Handling arms reached down from the bay to pull the transport in, and
the thick bay doors swung shut beneath it. This was not one of the two immense
holding bays, of course, and it had looked insignificant against the bulk of
the ship. But it was larger than any warehouse in port Kallenes, as Lenna could
see now.

“We are home,” the pilot announced as he hastily closed down all
the systems aboard the transport. “Half a moment and I will have it open.
I suppose that you want to go straight to the bridge.”

Lenna nodded absently. She was too busy thinking ahead to what she should do
next to truly appreciate that she was actually aboard the Methryn, and the only
uninvited guest the ship had seen in her eighteen thousand years.

Lenna stared as she stepped down out of the transport. The smooth inner
panels of the bay doors had folded shut to form the featureless deck on which
she now stood, still cold with exposure to space. The walls of each side of the
bay were filled with racks of two different sizes, the smaller holding
transports such as she had just ridden while the other held capture ships and a
large type of transport. They were lifted into place by rectractable handling
arms such as the set that held her own transport a meter above the deck while
five crewmembers in white armor trimmed in black hurried to service it.

“Here!” a voice called from behind. She turned quickly, and the
pilot tossed her bundle into her arms. The weight nearly knocked her over backward,
and she strained to get it under control before the Starwolves noticed that she
was not as strong as themselves.

“Are you going up to the bridge?” the pilot asked as he leaped
down beside her. He started toward a shelflike area at one side of the bay, and
she thought it best to join him until she could slip away.

“If we are getting under way soon, I should be there,” she
answered, recalling Consherra’s duty as helm.

“We will be getting under way immediately. They were waiting for
me.”

“I should be in my armor, but no time now,” she said with a
touch of regret. In fact, she was wondering if she could hide out easier if she
could get herself into a suit or armor, letting the lower arms hang free. She
had not yet considered that the Starwolves spoke a language of their own.

“Have you heard what the trouble is?” the pilot asked as she
stopped before the lift door to press the call button. “I was wondering
what Velmeran had to say.”

“Oh, I have not seen Velmeran since I left on port leave,” she
answered quickly, and it seemed to her a very good answer. She did not even
know if Velmeran had left the ship. She certainly had not seen any Starwolves
she had thought might be Velmeran.

The transport pilot, however, found that a very astonishing answer. Kelvesan,
with their insatiable curiosities, were natural if benevolent gossips. They
were also remarkably gullible. If Velmeran and Consherra were avoiding each
other’s company during port leave...

The lift snapped open and they quickly stepped inside, the pilot setting the
controls for his own destination and then on to the bridge. The doors snapped
shut and the lift started off with its customary lurch, causing Lenna to
stagger. This lift was the fastest she had ever known.

“Valthyrra does need that overhaul,” the pilot observed,
smiling.

Lenna only nodded. She had good luck with this particular Starwolf, but she
was beginning to think that she had been with him too long. Sooner or later he
was going to ask her something and she was going to say the wrong thing. Or,
worse yet, the real Consherra was going to be standing on the other side when
that door opened. She did not know that he was sharing her game by speaking
Terran to her. Then it seemed that the lift began to pick up speed like a
fighter going into battle. As the stress increased she moved slowly backward
until she was leaning against the rear wall of the lift. Still the force
continued to build, until she released her bundle to concentrate on fighting
the crushing pressure. Flying alone and empty, she had occasionally pushed her
freight shuttle to G’s as high as this, but she had always been supported
by a cushioned seat. The Starwolf might have been immune to those stresses,
standing idly by the door. But he was aware of her distress, and was regading
her closely.

“Are you well?” he asked. “The Methryn is accelerating to
starflight, but we are pulling no more than thirty G’s.”

Thirty? Only her Trader heritage kept her conscious during this, unprotected
and penned against a metal wall. The pilot suddenly realized what the problem
was. He stepped over to her and lifted up her cape, and discovered exactly what
he expected not to find. He checked her quickly for weapons, retrieved her
bundle, and returned to the lift controls. Pressing a button, he leaned slightly
forward to the speaker.

“Attention, bridge!” he said sharply. “Cut acceleration. I
repeat, cut acceleration immediately. Class Two intruder alert. Intruder
has been apprehended on lift five.”

He looked over at Lenna, who smiled weakly. The next moment she
collapsed to the floor as the stress of acceleration disappeared.

“This is Valthyrra Methryn,” came the reply momentarily.
“Do you consider the intruder to be under control and not dangerous?”

“No problem here,” he replied. “I suspect this to be a
stowaway rather than a spy or saboteur.”

“Very good. I am bringing you straight up to the bridge.”

Velmeran knew that something was wrong when he felt the Methryn cut
acceleration and he was on his way to the bridge immediately, so that he was
there within a minute of Lenna’s arrival. He was starting up the steps to
the upper bridge when he looked up and saw Lenna, pale and shaken, seated at
the Commander’s console while Mayelna, Consherra, and Valthyrra’s
camera pod faced her from three sides. Realizing exactly what had
happened, he turned and retreated quickly the way he had come.

“Just a moment, Velmeran,” Mayelna called after him.

He paused and reluctantly returned to the upper bridge. Ignoring Lenna,
who was staring at him in complete astonishment, he smiled sheepishly and
shrugged. “She followed me home, Mom. Can I keep her?”

“Ah, so you are the mysterious young Starwolf who inspired this lady
to attempt the foolhardy,” Mayelna said.

“You... you are Velmeran?” Lenna asked incredulously, even paler
than before. “The Velmeran?”

“Of course he is,” Mayelna answered irritably. “Who did
you think he was?”

“Well, he said that his name was Sergei Rachmaninoff,” she
explained.

Valthyrra nearly popped her lenses. “Sure, and I’m Fanny
Mendelssohn!”