by Larry Niven
Table of Contents
Dramatis Personae
Prologue
Part One Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Part Two Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Beowulf’s
Children
♦
LARRY NIVEN
JERRY POURNELLE
STEVEN BARNES
Beowulf’s Children
Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle, Steven Barnes
BOOK TWO IN THE CLASSIC HEOROT SERIES FROM GENRE LEGENDS LARRY NIVEN, JERRY POURNELLE, AND STEVEN BARNES.
Some twenty years have passed since the passengers and crew of the starship Geographic established a colony on the hostile alien world of Avalon. In that time, a new generation has grown up in the peace and serenity of the island paradise of Camelot, ignorant of the Great Grendel Wars fought between their parents and grandparents and the monstrous inhabitants of Avalon.
Now, under the influence of a charismatic leader, a group of young rebels makes for the mainland, intent on establishing their own colony, sure that they can vanquish any foe that should stand in their way.
But they will soon discover that Avalon holds darker secrets still.
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by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle,
and Steven Barnes
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Beowulf’s
Children
♦
LARRY NIVEN
JERRY POURNELLE
STEVEN BARNES
Beowulf’s Children
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 1995 by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle, and Steven Barnes
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
A Baen Book
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com
ISBN: 978-1-9821-2442-7
eISBN: 978-1-62579-758-2
Cover art by Kurt Miller
Maps by Randy Asplund
First Baen printing, March 2020
Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Niven, Larry, author. | Pournelle, Jerry, 1933-2017, author. |
Barnes, Steven, 1952- author.
Title: Beowulf’s children / Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle, Steven Barnes.
Description: Riverdale, NY : Baen Books, [2020] | Series: Heorot series
Identifiers: LCCN 2019053839 | ISBN 9781982124427 (paperback)
Subjects: GSAFD: Science fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3564.I9 B46 2020 | DDC 813/.54—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019053839
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Electronic Version by Baen Books
www.baen.com
For Marilyn, Roberta, and Toni
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The authors gratefully acknowledge
the invaluable assistance of
Dr. Jack Cohen of the University of Warwick
in the creation of the biology
and ecology of Avalon.
And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels
fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought
and his angels,
And prevailed not; neither was their place found any
more in heaven.
And the great dragon was cast out . . .
♦ DramatiS pErSOnaE ♦
Earth Born
Cadmann Weyland: Onetime colonel of UN Forces, Avalon security chief.
Mary Ann (Eisenhower) Weyland: Botanist and chief wife of Cadmann Weyland.
Sylvia (Faulkner) Weyland: Biologist, Cadmann’s second wife.
Zack Moskowitz: Governor of the Avalon Colony.
Rachael Moskowitz: Colony psychologist and Zack’s only wife.
Carlos Martinez: Remittance man. Historian, sculptor, and a hero of the Grendel Wars.
Joe Sikes: Engineer, onetime lover to Mary Ann Eisenhower, and hero of the Grendel Wars.
Hendrik Sills: Pilot; hero of the Grendel Wars.
Chaka Mubutu (“Big Chaka”): Biologist.
Carolyn McAndrews: Onetime administrator and agronomist; heroine of the Grendel Wars.
Julia Chang Hortha: Agronomist, nurse, and minister of the Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship.
Star Born
Mickey Weyland: Mine engineer and forester; oldest son of Cadmann and Mary Ann Weyland.
Linda Weyland-Sikes: Daughter of Cadmann and Mary Ann Weyland, mother of Cadzie Weyland, married to Joe Sikes.
Ruth Moskowitz: Daughter of Zack and Rachel Moskowitz.
Grendel Scouts
Jessica Weyland: First child of Cadmann and Mary Ann Weyland.
Justin Faulkner: Only surviving child of Sylvia Faulkner and her first husband. Adopted by Cadmann Weyland.
Coleen McAndrews: Older daughter of Carolyn McAndrews.
Katya Martinez: Acknowledged child of Carlos Martinez.
Evan Castenada: Skeeter pilot.
Edgar Sikes: Computer specialist; son of Joe Sikes and Sikes’s first wife.
Bottle Babies
Aaron Tragon: Unofficial leader of the Star Born.
Stu Ellington: Mathematician; skeeter pilot.
Chaka Mubutu (“Little Chaka”): Biologist; adopted son of Big Chaka.
Trish Chance: Bodybuilder.
Derik Crisp: Hunter, Grendel Scout supervisor.
&n
bsp; Toshiro Tanaka: Sensei to the Star Born; karate and yoga instructor.
Grendel Biters
Carey Lou Davidson
Heather McKennie
Sharon McAndrews
Others
Cassandra: An artificial intelligence.
Old Grendel
Long Mama: Not precisely an eel.
Tarzan, Zweiback, and others: Chamels.
Cold One: A snow grendel.
The Queen: A lake grendel.
Asia: A scribe.
♦ prologue ♦
campfire
“Once upon a long, long time ago, our parents and grandparents left a place called Earth. They traveled across the stars in a ship called Geographic to find paradise. But their paradise turned into a living hell . . . ”
The campfire jetted white flame as it reached a gum pocket in the horsemane log. The flame held for almost a minute, then died back to glowing coals. A cast-iron skillet balanced on firestones sizzled in the embers. A sudden gust momentarily sent sparks toward the misty night sky and the stars frozen overhead.
A dozen wide-eyed youngsters were packed shoulder-tight on makeshift seats of logs and stones, huddled expectantly in the dying firelight. They had waited all their lives for this night.
Justin Faulkner’s voice growled, caressed, leapt, burned hotter than the ebbing flames. “From the stars they came,” he stage-whispered. “Seeking to build homes where no human had ever walked. Avalon was a land untamed, stretching beneath a sky strange to human eyes. A paradise for the taking. These men and women were the best, the smartest and the bravest Earth could offer, two hundred chosen from eight billion people. Our parents. They are the Earth Born. But they didn’t know the truth about their new world, a truth that you—” His long sensitive fingers, sculptor’s fingers, bunched and stabbed as if each and every child were guilty of unspeakable crimes, “—you Star Born, have never been told . . . until now. Until this week. Until tonight.”
Justin’s voice carried the authority and infinite wisdom of all his nineteen years. None of the children was older than thirteen. Now they were youngsters, Grendel Biters. Tonight would be their first step toward becoming Grendel Scouts. At dawn they had left the human settlement called Avalon Town and hiked across the plain, along the Miskatonic River, then up Mucking Great Mountain along the minor tributary called the Amazon. Lunch and dinner were little more than stream water.
Their curious and eager shining eyes were black and brown and blue and jade, carrying genetic gifts from every people of Earth. Their limber young bodies were as perfect as the night stars, their minds filled with dreams more incandescent still. These were the exhausted young inheritors of a world new to Man.
“. . . the rivers were filled with a fish they called samlon. And they caught the fish, and ate the fish . . . ” Justin slipped a knife from his belt sheath. He poked its point about in the smoking pan, skewing a morsel of sizzling meat. He held it up, worrying the ragged, black-burnt chunk of flesh with his teeth. Then he passed both pan and knife to his right, to a ten-year-old girl with blonde, shoulder-length hair.
She bit gingerly at first, then harder to tear a piece loose. The texture resembled tough beef, not at all like fish. She chewed—and the meat bit back. She clawed at her throat, gasping, but managed to pass both pan and knife to her right. A boy, dark-skinned as the surrounding night, made a choking sound, and whispered “Water . . . ”
Their eyes misted. Some struggled with wretched coughs, but no one moved. The pan circled the campfire until there was nothing left but smoking iron.
“But one night, the river which gave life to the colony brought death. Even now, even here, high up on Mucking Great, if the wind is very quiet, on a night like tonight, you can hear old Misk calling . . . ”
Justin trailed off. With superbly theatrical timing, the wind dwindled to a murmur. There in the distance roared the mighty Miskatonic, rushing past the foot of Mucking Great . . . or was that only the Amazon?
“The samlon developed legs, and teeth, and a taste for human blood. They became . . . grendels. They clawed their way from the river, gasped air, and found it good. They moved so fast that other animals looked like statues to them. They slaughtered everything they saw. Our parents fought back, but it was no use. The camp was lost. Cadmann Weyland led the survivors here to his stronghold on Mucking Great, where they made their last stand.
“And there—” Justin’s thin finger cast an unsteady shadow toward the irregular chunk of stone called Snailhead Rock. “That was where my father died, torn to pieces by the ravening horde. And there on the verandah is where Phyllis McAndrews was killed, still screaming reports to the orbiting crew of Geographic. And there . . . ” Justin was lost in the story now, beginning to hyperventilate. “. . . others were caught, torn apart and devoured by frenzied grendels moving faster than eyes can see. Down there by the cliff edge—” The dark hid it. “—two men waited in a wrecked skeeter while grendels battered the walls in with their heads. And there was where Joe Sikes sent a river of fire flowing down, finally killing the grendels, saving every human life—”
Pause. The wind had picked up. When it lulled there remained no sound save the rushing waters.
“That was a long, long time ago. But sometimes on a night like tonight, if you press your ear to the ground, you can still hear the screams of the dying, as teeth tear their flesh open and devour their vitals. And you can thank the spirits of the dead that there is no longer anything to fear.
“No more monsters, no more grendels . . . ” Justin paused for effect. “But if there are spirits of men, who can say that there are not spirits of monsters as well?”
His audience’s young eyes were wide, and still. Their chests hardly moved as they struggled to keep control. The dogs were tethered well away from the campsite, and now, sensing the children’s fear, they began to growl and strain at their leashes.
“Some say that the spirits of the dead war nightly, up here on Mucking Great Mountain. Our dead parents and grandparents pit rifle and spear and knife against fang and claw and speed, night after bloody night. They don’t want to—but they must. Because if they lose, just once . . . just once . . . ”
He narrowed his eyes fiercely. “The grendels will claw through the portal that separates life from death, and return to ravage Avalon again. And not just Avalon. They’ll go across the stars as we crossed between stars, back to Earth . . . ”
A light dew of sweat dampened his forehead. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “What was that? Was that a scream? It sounded almost like a scream, a human scream. The scream of a soul already dead, but dying yet again. A soul now cast into some deeper, more terrible pit. And is that another? And another . . . ?”
The boys and girls strove to still their breathing and quiet their heartbeats, attempting to capture every word.
“But if the ghosts of the humans are dying once again then—”
There was a terrible shriek, and from beyond the ring of firelight lurched a woman soaked in blood. She staggered, one hand held piteously to her cheek. One eye was clotted with gore and the other was insanely wide, as if witness to all the terrors of hell.
After her, in a blur, came something inhuman.
Ten feet of hissing reptile bounded into the firelight: splay-clawed, barb-tailed, eyes dead to gentleness or love, merciless as glass.
It smashed her to the ground, perched atop her and howled—!
The children scrambled in all directions, screaming, crying. Then silence, save for the crackle of the fire. The woman’s bloody body lay still upon the ground, grendel perched above, triumphant—
And then she sat up, sputtering with mirth. “Justin Faulkner, you are an utter bastard!”
“It’s the company I keep, Jessie.” He grinned like a shark. “All right, round ’em up!”
The “grendel” sat up, and a stocky, muscular Japanese boy of about seventeen Earth years climbed out of its hollow belly. His face was darkened with charcoal, a
nd he laughed so hard he could barely breathe. Jessica slapped him on the back. “You should make some little tiny buildings, some miniature artillery, and do a giant monster movie, Toshiro.”
“Godzilla versus a four-hundred-foot grendel?” He shrugged out of the grendel skin. “You know, if we hadn’t had to rebuild Tokyo every six months, Japan would have ruled all of Earth.”
From all around them, just beyond the reach of the firelight, larger human figures returned, shepherding their younger siblings back to the firelight.
“Come on back!” they roared. “Sissies!”
Shy, embarrassed, the stragglers returned by ones and twos. They protested loudly but hid grins behind small heads, and wrung crocodile tears from laughing eyes.
Tentatively, then with growing enthusiasm, they examined the hollow grendel carcass, its thick forelegs and wide jaws, its stubby spiked tail. They ran their small fingers along its scales, each imagining that it was his father, her grandmother who slew the dragon.
Justin took his place at the center by the fire, and this time spoke in a normal voice. “All right, it was a joke. Not a pointless one. We want you scared. Grendels are dangerous. The Earth Born killed all the grendels here on this island. As children, you’ve been safe here all your lives. Now it’s time to learn about your world, all of it, not just this island. We are the Star Born. This world is ours.