Keru was chastened. So many of the symbionts in his care had died because of the hatred of a few fanatics, because some people just couldn’t accept their right to live the way they did. How could he stand here now and judge Torvig for the way he was? “I guess you must be pretty disappointed in us, then. Or at least in me.”

“Oh, no, sir! I knew some discomfort and adjustment were inevitable. And you haven’t tried to have me killed or anything. Indeed, I’ve learned quite a lot from our interaction. So it’s all for the best, sir.”

The big Trill stared at the little Choblik for another long moment. Then he reached out to shake the cadet’s bionic hand.

Chapter Fifteen

Captain’s Log, Stardate 57207.4

We are now four days into training, and the star-jellies and Pa’haquel appear to have established a comfortable working relationship. After the initial disruption, the Pa’haquel seem to be managing the jellies’ hormonal influence on their moods effectively. Apparently the effect is not as strong as their telepathic influence. Meanwhile, more jellies have allowed themselves to be boarded by Pa’haquel, and practice maneuvers have been going well. This morning, Elder Qui’hibra led the school of jellies in a practice hunt of the plantlike sailseed creatures that pervade the region. The jellies took to it surprisingly well, tracking down two in the course of a few hours and destroying them both quite efficiently. So far, it looks as though the jellies will make excellent hunting dogs.

Now if only I could decide whether this is a good thing or not.

Qui’hibra looked around the control center, still unable to adjust to how empty it was. Normally, almost any place he went on a skymount was bustling with activity, as clan and crew carried out the tasks that the live creatures’ own metabolism had done originally. But now the skymounts they occupied were live, and fully capable of managing their own functions. Indeed, now that they had adjusted to the collaboration, they could respond to a hunter’s thoughts faster than he could speak them, making for a greatly improved reaction time. He had been able to spread out his skeleton crew, already only a fraction of any one mount’s normal complement, among six livemounts (as many were now starting to call them). The livemounts’ performance in the hunting drill against the sailseeds had been freakishly efficient, despite—or perhaps because of—their frivolous attitude toward it. They had chosen to treat the experience as a form of play, and had taken to it quite eagerly. Qui’hibra was not troubled by that; indeed, he welcomed their enthusiasm as a sign that they would take well to the Hunt. And the enthusiasm they had induced in their occupants had been good for morale, heightening the hunters’ alertness and energy rather than distracting them. The few people with Qui’hibra in the control center had been a bit distracted by his uncharacteristic good humor, though, so he had done his best to restrain his enthusiasm and maintain a properly stern visage. But inside, he’d revelled in a sense of youthful predatory glee that he thought he’d lost ages ago.

Now, though, Qui’chiri did not seem too pleased about the livemounts’ efficiency. “This is ridiculous,” she said. “This place is so empty. How can we support whole clans this way? How can a mount be home to hundreds if seven or eight can run the whole thing?”

“There is still much room for occupancy,” he replied.

“Yes, many could live here, but what would they do?How could they be happy without purpose? And what happens to all that youthful male aggression if it cannot be sated in the Hunt? This is why the sedentary peoples have so many wars—because they have nothing better to do with their hostilities. And when they do not war, they wallow in depravity and indulgence and the other sins of leisure. Must we see the Pa’haquel reduced to that?”

“There are other ways we can find to be useful. Look at the crew of Titan.They toil in science and learning, seek ways to better people’s lives.”

“Pfa. Most of it is sophistry, nothing anyone will ever need. They just imagine it keeps them useful. And it has caused us no end of trouble.”

“Good point.” He exchanged a small smile with his daughter—not mount-induced this time, but the genuine good humor that, since his last wife had died, he shared only with Qui’chiri. “I have no answer beyond hope. Hope and trust. I trust the Pa’haquel to find ways to lead lives of meaning, no matter how our circumstances may change. No matter what, we exist to preserve the balance.”

“Well, females trust in the tangible. I will believe it if it happens.”

Before Qui’hibra could respond, a hail came in from another livemount in the school. “Elder,”came the voice of Huntsmaster Chi’tharu. “We have detected a group of spinners on the other side of this star system. I think they would make an excellent next test.”

“How many?”

“Four, Elder.”

Qui’chiri appeared skeptical. “Spinners can be dangerous, Father. Perhaps it is too soon.”

“Yes, they are dangerous,” Qui’hibra said. “That is why we should not pass up a chance to kill them. If they have come to this system to procreate, we should prevent it. And the danger to a skymount is not that great.”

“If the mount is accurate in its aim.”

“I have confidence in these mounts. They have done their job well.”

“Against things that cannot harm them.”

“And now we must learn how they react when faced with things that can. I have made my decision, Chiri. And I advise you to think confident thoughts—for the benefit of our host,” he finished, gesturing at the mount around them. Qui’chiri fell silent and nodded in understanding.

“All fleet,” Qui’hibra said into the comm, “the hue and cry is given. Proceed to intercept the prey, maximum warp.” He paused. “Mount, would you hail Titan,please? And ask Commander Troi to come to the control center.”

A moment later, an image of Riker appeared on the sensation wall. “Riker. We have detected prey on the far side of the system. We are proceeding to engage them. I recommend you follow and observe.” Even as he spoke, he felt the mount building up its energies to warp.

“What kind of prey?”

“Spinners. They are not sentient, so you should have no concern there. But they can be a hazard. They are vast sails of fine mesh, light in mass but as wide as fifty skymounts, rotating and given rigidity by a set of heavy nodules around their perimeter. Normally they travel propelled by light pressure, but the nodules contain maneuvering jets. The spin induces a magnetic field which they can also use for maneuvering, or to gather hydrogen for their jets. The mesh absorbs energy and can change its shape magnetically. If a starbeast or ship approaches too near and is too slow to dodge, the spinner will wrap around it, encasing it in multiple layers of sail, and drain its energy away.”

Riker frowned. “How great a risk does this pose to the star-jellies?”

“Little, if they perform as well as before and avoid being caught. Spinners are flimsy, slow-moving things. The main peril is that they are hard to kill. Blast a hole through the sail and it is barely felt, since there is so much sail remaining, and the energy of the blast feeds it. You must strike the nodules, which contain its organs and what little brains it has. But they are small moving targets and there are eighteen per spinner. I would call it more of a challenge than a risk. The kind of challenge that would make excellent training.”