by Larry Niven
He was, from the look of him, learning far more about Beowulf Shaeffer than he had ever wanted to. He tried to stick to what he knew. "Traveling. Any contact at all with Pierson's puppeteers during that period?"
"No."
"Other aliens? Aliens the puppeteers dealt with?"
That made me smile. "I'm a celebrity among the Kdatlyno..."
*****
~Grendel~
*****
"Can I ghost that story for you?" Ander asked. "Might be money in it."
"Old news. Everyone's seen Lloobee's version," I said, thinking that my story, even edited, could call too much attention to Margo. Lloobee hadn't known of Margo's involvement in the kidnapping, and I hadn't told Ander. I watched him, wondering if he knew.
"I've never turned on to a...mature woman," he said. "What's it like? Why did you break up?"
I shrugged. "It was supposed to be temporary. It stayed that way...didn't have to, just did. Ander, it boggles me a little, too, Margo contracting for a two-year date the way I used to angle for a hot weekend. Aliens scare you; do you ever worry about elderly humans?"
"No."
"They've learned too much. They don't like change. If they could stop civilization in its tracks, they would."
He didn't exactly think that over; he disliked the taste, so he spit it out. "I always figure, if you can't lick 'em, join 'em. So I've decided to get older. Beowulf, General Products gave you a number -- "
"I take it as being for my use only."
His eyes narrowed, but he let it slide. "But you could use it if we needed to know something."
"I might ask a properly phrased question. Ander Smittarasheed, I am out of the aliens business."
Again he let it slide. "After Margo, where?"
"Earth. I had a hell of a time getting back."
"Did you go back for Sharrol Janss?"
I stared. "Of course, for Sharrol and the children."
"Carlos Wu's children!"
I stood up, knowing it was a mistake, and so what? "I'm leaving. If you want to apologize, my phone is -- "
"Beowulf Shaeffer, I just can't see you losing your head over a woman."
I lost my breath. It was as if he'd punched me in the belly. I sat down, but my vision was still graying. Ander watched in amazement. When my eyes would focus again, he asked, "What was that about?"
"Not now." I couldn't breathe.
He sighed. He tapped at the menu board. A squeezebulb popped up, and he handed it across. I found my hand massaging my throat, removed it, took the bulb, and drank. Brandy and soda. Just right.
He watched me drink again. "Stet. Sigmund told me how you got back to Sol system."
"He might possibly have left something out."
"Go ahead."
*****
~The Borderland of Sol~
*****
"Sigmund Ausfaller killed three miners without a thought," I said.
"He was right, though."
"That weapons shop he built aboard Hobo Kelly: he was in love with it. No sane man toys with such things."
"Saved your life."
"He was wearing an asymmetrical beard when I first saw him. He's too short and stocky to pass for a Wunderlander. I've wondered about that for twelve years."
"None of my business, nor yours," Ander said. "Maybe someone was supposed to take him for a gullible tourist, or a fool, or a crazy."
"He's not to be trusted, Ander."
Ander laughed suddenly. Stared me in the face and laughed harder. "That's it! He needed to look crazy. He needed to look crazy enough to plant a bomb aboard a crashlander's ship!"
All I had for answer was a wordless snarl. Tanj, he could even be right.
Our dinners arrived, and Ander's chuckle died. He stared at what was on my plate. Crew snapper is a sea creature as big as a short man's leg, with rows of fins down each side and a jaw built to crush bones. It took up most of the table. It was hideous.
"Have some," I said. "It's an order for two."
We ate in silence for a bit. Ander's eyes kept straying to the crew snapper. He wouldn't touch it. He wouldn't speak of it. Presently he said, "For the record, any further contact with Pierson's puppeteers?"
I said, "Ander, this was an amazing expenditure just so you can hear Beowulf Shaeffer's barroom description of a species that no longer deals with any known world."
Ander Smittarasheed nodded. "What if I say I talked Sigmund Ausfaller out of a free vacation?"
"Maybe, if I didn't know you were recording."
He was losing patience. "Any further contact -- "
"None. I've seen enough kzinti to last me. Don't they scare the ARM anymore?"
Ander Smittarasheed said, "You wouldn't remember the old Soviet Union? They used a technical term that translates as 'neutral.' 'Neutral' was any nation that could not conceivably damage the Soviet Union. Puppeteers think like that. If you can hurt them, you have to be rendered neutral."
"Better keep an eye on the planets they'll be passing on their way to nowhere."
"They'll be in range of some Patriarchy worlds, including at least three slave species. After that they're out of known space."
"And the Core explosion is twenty thousand years away. They'll have to turn first. Plenty of time."
"Yeah -- "
"Ander?" I set down my hashi. "Never mind."
"What?"
"They're moving at near lightspeed through normal space? Everything comes on as gamma rays at that velocity! Those planets are repelling gamma rays that'll make the Core explosion look sickly!"
He stared. "But. They could have built ...whatever...built it and never...If they can shield planets against gamma rays, they didn't need to go!"
I felt a grin pulling my lips way-y-y back. Ander had lost his aplomb. I wondered, "What are they running from, then? What are they up to?"
"Maybe it's not dependable, this shield. No, that's stupid," he said. I dug into my fish, letting him run on. "So...what are they running from?"
I said, enjoying myself, "Consider this. Puppeteers don't like hyperdrive. Humans do. Kzinti do. By the time their traveling worlds reach the Clouds of Magellan, we'll have been there for thousands of years. After all, the Core explosion is coming for us, too."
"We wondered if they didn't like the kzinti for neighbors," Ander said. "Or humans. Or all of us together. Known space seems to be packed with sapient species. Maybe the rest of the universe isn't like that."
"They could even be running from their own reputation, but they're not, Ander. They're going too slowly. They'd find all of us waiting, every species that uses hyperdrive, or else something tougher that ate us. And they're not going to where territory is cheap."
"Cheap?"
"Well, they've got their own planets, but even Outsiders pay rent when they use somebody's sunlight. The Clouds will be packed with refugee species and locals, too. If...Ander, I can't see why they would want the Clouds of Magellan at all. They could find something closer. Something in the plane of the galaxy, for the shielding effect, maybe a spherical cluster. Did I mention I was out of the aliens business?"
He scowled. "Yeah, and settled down forever, except you weren't. What happened?"
I thought it through before I spoke. Here was my tale, and whatever Ander could check had better be the truth.
"We ran," I said. "Bad mistake, but I still don't know what I could have done differently. Puppeteers don't come into it. Or...well, I got money from them years ago. I thought the ARM couldn't trace that."
Of course the ARM had, and it wasn't much. But General Products had indemnified Elephant for his hull, and Elephant had given that to me when we were ready to flee Earth. They wouldn't trace that.
Ander said, "Beowulf, what if they've got a low-thrust drive big enough for a planet? The Outsiders could boost them up to speed. They'd use their own drive to turn and then stop over the next two hundred thousand years."
I thought it over. "They wouldn't have to depend on anyone else, then. Yeah.
Puppeteers wouldn't trust Outsiders for their species survival."
"Do you think Outsiders trust puppeteers?"
Nobody knew very much about Outsiders. "Ander? There's a place where there's no Outsiders."
"What are you thinking? Close to a sun?"
"Outsiders and starseeds. We only guess at the relationship, but the best guess is they'll try to rescue the starseeds. Stet?"
"Stet. Maybe they'll make for the Clouds of Magellan."
"The shock wave will drive the starseeds ahead of it, wherever they're going. There won't be Outsiders near the Core. Ander, there won't be anybody near the Core."
I was trying to picture it. Worlds in flight -- "Drive up along the galactic pole, then turn toward the hub. In ten thousand years they'd meet the shock wave from the Core explosion. I saw it, Ander. A shell of exploding suns, fairly tight, fairly narrow. They'd be through it in another five thousand years. The Outsiders are gone. All the sapient species are gone, too, dead or fled or hopelessly mutated and still mutating. Thousands of worlds would have been sterilized -- maybe millions -- but they'd still be covered with free oxygen and organic sludge and maybe even deep-sea life. All ready for easy terraforming. That's it. They're headed for the Core."
He said, "Well." And thought again and said, "At least it's different."
"Is this what you came for?"
"Beowulf, I believe I can tell Sigmund it was worth the trip. Now, will you tell me what happened to Feather Filip and Carlos Wu?"
"Yeah. And Carlos Wu's autodoc?"
He shrugged it off. "Feather Filip vanished from the same time and locale as you and Carlos Wu and Sharrol Janss. I'm supposed to find out who's dead."
It wasn't a slip of the tongue. He put the question that brutally quite deliberately. Maybe it got him what he wanted; because the blood was draining out of my face again. I found my hand at my throat, massaging.
I said, "Nobody should have to eat with you, Ander."
He looked at the monster on my plate and again wouldn't give me the satisfaction. "Who's dead?"
Me! I said, "At least Carlos. You want it from the beginning?"
"Why not?"
*****
~Procrustes~
*****
"So there you have it," I told Ander. "Carlos is dead. I saw Feather shoot him before she shot me. Sharrol and the children must have gotten away. Feather stayed to put me in the 'doc, then used the other boat.
"She left me marooned on a desert island. I think she'd already given up on catching Sharrol. Otherwise, why would she need me for a hostage? I can't guess where they all are now, but if Feather was holding Sharrol, I think I'd know it."
"How?"
"By now she must know I'm gone. She could advertise on the personals net. There hasn't been anything like that."
Ander held his peace. No point in his telling the poor crashlander that his story leaks like a NASA spacecraft. From the way I'd told it, Ander could only guess that Feather had covered her back trail. Sharrol and the children must be as dead as Carlos, and Beowulf Shaeffer didn't have the courage to face it.
If he bought it, Ander would be hunting Feather, not Carlos.
"And I live in Pacifica because anywhere else I'd need pills to protect me from sunlight. Feather might trace that. Ander, can you do something about Feather? I keep expecting her to pop up behind my ear."
"I'll see what I can do. She's ARM responsibility. Could she be dead?"
"For all I know. Carlos cut her. I don't know how bad, but I saw blood."
"Carlos...yeah. Sigmund isn't going to like that. What do I give him for proof?"
"You might find traces of him on the island, but I doubt it, Ander. I think Feather dumped him in the hopper for biomass. The closest you'll get to any remains of Carlos Wu is right here." He didn't understand. I stretched my arms, flexing my still not quite familiar body. "Not the fish, Ander. Me."
"Stet. Which island?"
"On another matter," I said. "Carlos Wu's experimental autodoc is a very valuable item. I propose to sell it to you."
Ander studied me, mildly amused. His hands wandered into pockets and came out with a silver match and a box of fat green cigars. He said, "Your bargaining position isn't that terrific."
Was he really going to fire up that thing? Tobacco, it had to be tobacco.
I tore my eyes off his hands. "Cheap," I assured him. "I can't touch it myself, after all, and you can't afford to lose it. Look at me! That thing rebuilt me from a severed head!"
"Buying up your trash is not exactly in my job description."
"I'll sell you the location. You collect it and do with it as you will. One hundred thousand stars."
Ander smiled at the number, conveying that it was too high even to be funny. He said, "They wouldn't let me smoke on the ship. Want one?"
"No," I said, watching all my problems solve themselves. Well, half my problems. I could run clear off the planet while Ander worked at getting himself out of a cell. But he'd chosen the wrong restaurant, and I didn't believe it, anyway. He'd delayed too long; his body language was wrong.
I said, "Wait up. Don't light that."
He sat there with the cigar poking out of the center of his grin. "I thought you'd let me do it."
I said, "I toyed with the notion. If it was just a matter of you going to jail, Ritz, that might improve my leverage. I could make you an offer you couldn't walk away from."
"You used to have the tobacco habit yourself."
"But I gave it up to make Sharrol happy, and tanj if my sense of taste didn't come back. Ander, put those things away. Pacifica is a big spaceship."
"Make you nervous?"
"Ander, don't tease the kzinti."
The breath caught in his throat. The match and cigar disappeared with minimal motions of his hands. Then his head turned casually.
They looked at him, three big males with glossy orange coats and carefully closed mouths. Looked away again. They weren't doing anything threatening. Maybe they hadn't even noticed. Riiight. Kzinti living in Pacifica might never have smelled tobacco, but any who had would not forget.
Ander seemed calm, almost sleepy, except that his breathing was a little ragged and there was sweat trickling down his neck. The cigar had been for my benefit, but he really hadn't noticed the kzinti. Mankind had claimed this world, hadn't we? Kzinti didn't belong here, did they?
He sought the thread of conversation. "You don't know where Feather Filip is, and you last saw the magical autodoc a year and a half ago."
"Exactly. I don't know that Feather hasn't been watching for me to come back and get it. There were lamplighter islands in line of sight. She could be watching for me with a pair of mag specs."
"Or she could be anywhere on Fafnir. But if I find her, she can take me to the island."
I kept silent.
"I can reach some funds. Tell you what," Ander said. "Take my entire expense credit. Five thousand and change. I'll have to live on credit till Sigmund can send me more."
"No, no, Ander. I want a hundred thousand."
"I'd have to beam Sigmund. I'd have to tell him what it is for. Where does that leave me?"
"Tell him I want two hundred thousand. Keep half yourself."
"Beowulf, what you have to sell is a tool that's been left under seawater. The technology is in records left behind by Carlos Wu."
"Did he leave records of his research? You don't know that. Encrypted? You don't know. I don't, either. Could the Fafnir government get the techniques by studying the autodoc itself? We don't know."
Ander laughed at that. "What are you going to tell the Fafnir bureaucrats? You stand five ten, maybe, but you can produce records that show you seven feet tall? Records can be faked, Beowulf. I'm your only customer."
This was fun. I had his attention, finally. "What if we take a stunted kzinti -- there are a few -- and skin him, and before he suffers too much trauma, we shove him in Carlos Wu's 'doc. Would it rebuild him into a passable human? A perfect spy?"<
br />
He guffawed. "That is really ridiculous."
"Oh, maybe. But there are wealthy kzinti families on Fafnir."
"They don't know how tall you used to be, either! Anyway, dealing with kzinti is crazy dangerous. Beowulf, I've got nearly six thousand, and you can have it all. Otherwise you'll have to wait while I tell Sigmund Ausfaller what you're selling, and Sigmund makes a counteroffer, and you settle, and he finally sends credit, all by hyperwave across ten light-years. And if I find Feather while you're waiting, you get nothing."
"Good enough. Tell him two hundred thousand stars -- "
"One."
"One. Half in advance, half when you've got the 'doc. I'll be here at the Pequod until the money comes in." I stood up. "It's midnight. Pay my consultant's fee at the hotel desk." I walked out, thinking I'd timed that nicely.
* * *
I stopped at the desk to learn my room number. I told them there would be a payment entered against room charges.
My backpurse was hanging in the sleeping plates. I checked through it. Someone might have searched it...someone had. Sharrol, looking for what might identify me as a family man. She'd found and removed my two holos of her, one with Tanya and Louis but not Carlos, the other more recent, pregnant, with Jeena at her breast.
Twenty minutes between the plates would do me a world of good, I thought. Four hours would be even better.
No time.
I rode an elevator to the roof. There I paused, gazing idly up into the black oceanic night.
Sanity check: Was I being watched? In what fashion?
ARM cameras are little transparent disks you apply with a thumb to a flat surface. They don't cost that much and are impossible to spot. My room would be a good place to scatter a few. So would the lobby doors and the line of transfer booths behind me on the Pequod's roof. But Ander had had no chance to set them...had he?
I wished that I'd known Ander Smittarasheed better. I hadn't learned much today. He had the instincts of a cop; he'd treated me as a felon ready to escape. He remembered me fairly well. Strong as hell. What else?
