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contact with the unknown attackers,
using a small fleet of drone cruisers as bait. Tarrel did not expect to be
given command of that mission herself.
    She
hurried out into the corridor the moment the meeting adjourned, hoping to
demand some word from Commander Lake on several subjects. She was almost
surprised to find that he had waited for her; in her own philosophies, she had
believed that he had been trying to shun her company since his promotion.
    “You
wanted to talk?” he asked casually, almost daring her to be angry.
    “I
want to talk business at least,” she responded. “If nothing else, I would like
a better idea of what you expect of me. ”
    “That
is not unreasonable,” he agreed. “We can speak privately in my station office.
Will you accompany me?”
    “Is
that an order?”
    “If
this is business, then it is an order.”
    They
walked together, for his offices were only a short distance down the corridor
on that same level. Tarrel refused to be intimidated by any man she had taught
to be half-way good in bed; she had never kept his company for the sake of his
sexual abilities, but because they were like minds. While his response so far
seemed to argue otherwise, she was satisfied that he was not going to pull rank
on her simply as a ploy to keep her silent. They could still talk. Once she
felt certain of that, she found that she was no longer so anxious or annoyed
over the matter.
    Despite
his words, Lake took her not into his office, but into his private quarters.
The Carthaginian’s shuttle bays were no larger than this suite of apartments,
its decor rich but understated. He watched her as she looked about. When she
saw him staring, he smiled wryly as if sharing some subtle jest.
    “Would
you like something to drink?” he asked.
    She
shook her head. “Not while I’m working. You know me better than that.”
    “Are
you working?”
    “I’m
thinking about business. You pay me to think, remember?”
    “I
suppose I do,” he agreed. “So, what are you thinking?” “First of all, I’m
thinking that you might be using me as bait.”
    Lake
considered that briefly, and decided that he should pour himself a drink. “Do
you know, the trouble with my new job is that I often have to think like a
mercenary. I wish that there was no need of mercenary thinking in the military,
but there it is.” “You propose to send me out to face that thing again, and you
expect me to be understanding?”
    “No,”
he agreed simply. “It might not be fair to ask you to stand up to that thing
one more time. If cannon fodder would get the job done, I would send those
fossils I have to keep around as resident experts. You seem to have some idea of how to handle this situation.”
    “I
keep running away?” Tarrel asked.
    “You
do have to survive long enough to learn something.
    And
that is very much the point. I’m going to give you a small convoy of old ships,
anything we can find in a hurry that is nothing but scrap. We can have those
slaved to your navigational system so that they will fly in formation around
your own battleship, and then we’ll send you to locate the area where that
thing was last known to be. When it starts nibbling away at your convoy, you’ll
know that you’ve made contact and you have a few moments to attempt
communications. If they don’t answer, then you get the hell out.”
    “You
seem to believe that this is not Starwolves.”
    Lake
shook his head. “Starwolves don’t behave like that. They can be damned
dangerous, especially if they catch you doing something they don’t like. But
they do live by certain rules of their own making. I can’t say that I really
give you much hope of success, but we might learn something more by provoking
another attack. If they don’t talk, and if you don’t find some way to fight
them, then find yourself some Starwolves and discover what they have to say on
the subject.”
    “If
the Starwolves really are behind this, that would be looking for