by Larry Niven
Oliver saw what she was doing and exploded. "LE Gauthier, are you schitzy? We can't lose that!"
"We can live without for a few hours."
"Why did you try to give away Wembleth? A Ringworld native! He's a wonderful find!"
"Wembleth is a prize, all right. I wish we could take them both, but he's still just a local. He doesn't know enough. I want Luis Tamasan! I'd take the Kzin if I could fit him in the ship, but I can't, so we'll question him first."
"Roxanny, he's still a Kzin!"
"You're afraid? He's a kid. They're both teen children. Both their parents were on the Ringworld before the Fleet, and the kids must have been hearing about it all their lives."
Oliver considered. "What would their parents do to get them back?"
"Maybe we'll find that out too, after we know everything they do." She grinned. "Ollie, did you see the look on Luis's face? Like--"
Oliver had, and his voice showed his resentment. "Like he never saw a woman before. All right, Roxanny, have it your way. We'll crawl into the tent with a Kzin, and by Finagle he's the first that gets fed! But we've got way more data than we were sent for, and the trick now is to get home with it!"
The ARMs were involved with erecting the tent. Nobody was looking at Louis when Tunesmith's miniature bust popped up on his dash.
The protector said, "I urgently need to know whether my reweaving system is working. Is the hole getting smaller? How drastically must I act to save something? I need hardly warn you not to fall into the puncture."
Was Snail Darter or its mother ship eavesdropping? Even if this line were private, little glowing hologram heads would be seen. Louis said quickly, "The hole is closing. It's closing. We have company." He turned the holoscreen off.
Now Tunesmith could do no more than listen.
The tent had inflated into a tube with a big airlock, an alcove for vacuum gear, a living space, and silver walls that must hide a toilet. Gauthier inside, and Forrestier outside, assisted the rest to enter.
Acolyte carried Hanuman, but left him in his pressure suit. "The suit takes care of sanitary matters," Acolyte said. Hanuman ooked.
Gauthier had thrown back her helmet, though she didn't move to strip off her suit. Oliver had done the same. The ARMs didn't seem to be excessively distrustful. Louis and Acolyte opened their own helmets. The varying species settled themselves around a small kitchen box.
Wembleth spoke syllables Louis had never heard. A translator voice spoke from one of his pockets: "Good, this is much more room." The hairy man zipped his rescue pod open and wriggled out with a sigh of contentment.
"Wembleth makes number four in a three man ship," Forrestier explained. "We found him surrounded by the dead of some larger, hairier species, gasping like a beached fish, but on his feet and pulling himself toward us by any ruined wall the storm hadn't flung away. We had to stuff him in Mission and Weapons and shut it all off. We've questioned him--he knows things we need--but we can't fly like that, LE Luis. We need to defend ourselves."
"We'll take him someplace he can live," Louis said.
"We'll find a way to moor his rescue pod to your flying thing. We don't have a suit that'll fit him."
'Tec Gauthier was handing out dole bricks from the little kitchen. She made adjustments to give Acolyte a brick of drippy red, then something fruity for Hanuman. "It's the only kitchen we've got, and it's the 'doc too. In flight, in peacetime, this tent buds out from the hull. If we can't deploy it, we barely have room to wiggle. War is hell," she said lightly. "Can I give you something to drink?"
"Surprise me," Louis said. "Tea? Juice?"
"Beer?"
"Better not. And Acolyte's too young."
Acolyte growled.
Roxanny laughed. "So're you, Luis!"
She thought he was a child! He said, "Yes, LE."
She passed out squeezebulbs: something cranberry-flavored for Louis, boullion for Acolyte and Wembleth. "You both grew up on the Ringworld. Did your fathers tell you about planets?"
"We learned physics that way," Acolyte said. "Father--Chmeee--tried to show me what a Coriolis storm is, a hurricane. I'm not sure I understand."
"I'd love to see Earth," Louis said. A working spacecraft! His first chance to defect since the abominable Bram had found him... no, since before that. Since he'd sliced up Needle's hyperdrive motor!
There had to be a way to speak to Roxanny Gauthier alone.
Her suit wasn't quite a skintight: it only hinted at a shape that made his heart turn over. A strong woman, an athlete. Her face was severe, with a square chin and a straight-edged nose. She'd be in her fifties, Louis judged, based on body language and the way Forrestier deferred to her... unless she ranked him. Her hair was a sparse black puffball; she must depilate or shave her scalp periodically.
It took Louis by surprise, after all the hominids he'd met, how much he longed for the sight of a woman.
But she was asking something. "Do you know anything about a big transparent ship?"
Louis shook his head. Acolyte was less cautious. "Like a General Products ship? What would we see, a glass bubble?"
"Yah, a big glass bubble. What do you know about General Products hulls?"
"Luis's father came here in a Number Two," Acolyte said. He was giving too much detail. He'd be caught in inconsistencies, Louis feared... but Chmeee must have described Liar, which had been a Number Two, when he told his son of the first expedition.
And Acolyte was enjoying himself.
"A huge glass bubble filled with gear. Massive machines inside," Gauthier said.
Forrestier said, "Or four flames moving across the sky. It's got four fusion motors. It was stolen, maybe by your Chiron."
Louis said, "Chiron doesn't tell us everything. Or anything."
Roxanny said, "Actually it was stolen twice, first by the Kzinti, then from the Kzinti. We didn't see it reach the Ringworld, but we think it's here. We want it back."
"Tell us about the Chiron expedition," Oliver ordered.
Louis improvised. "Dad says it took two years, and it was way cramped." Stick to what you know where possible--"My mother came on the first expedition. She says Lying Bastard started as a Number Two and just grew out of all proportion, bigger every time a puppeteer thought of another safety feature. In the end Lying Bastard was a big flying wing with the General Products cylinder stuck into it. The stasis field enclosed the cylinder, but they lost everything that was on the wing." All of that would be in ARM records, including Louis Wu's own speculations. They'd find Louis's description of Chiron there too.
"So when Chiron built his ship, he wedged everything inside the hull. I've been in it, but not since I was this high, and it was already cramped--"
"We would like to talk to Chiron," Oliver said. "Where may we find him?"
Acolyte said, "Chiron has told us most explicitly that we must not tell anyone how to find him."
To Roxanny Oliver said, "Long Shot was in the hands of Kzinti. Puppeteers might find that distressing, don't you think? A puppeteer might act to get it back." He asked Louis, "Did Chiron's ship have a name?"
"Paranoia," Louis said without cracking a smile.
"How is it armed?"
"Paranoia has no armaments at all," Louis said, "barring tools which may be turned to that end. We're not to speak of those."
"Where on the Ringworld did your Paranoia land? Was it near the GreatOcean, where the first expedition left Teela Brown?"
Louis hadn't decided that either. "Can't say."
"Boy, you don't seem to have anything at all to trade," Roxanny Gauthier said. "What would you like to know from us? Did Chiron tell you what questions to ask?"
"He wants to know if the
Ringworld is going to heal. I can see that the rupture's sealing itself. Even so, what can you tell us about the Fringe War? Is it about to go away?"
"I doubt it," Roxanny said.
"Or is it going to get so big and violent that it shatters everything?"
"That doesn't have to happen," she said firmly.
Oliver laughed. Roxanny looked around in annoyance, and Oliver said, "Just a passing thought. How old are you, Luis?"
Louis had planned to be in his thirties, but both ARMs seemed to think he was just past puberty. For some reason this delighted him. Tanj, why not? He said, "Eighty falans and a bit."
"And a falan would be?"
"Ten rotations of the sky."
"About seventy-five days? Thirty-hour Ringworld days?" Oliver was whispering to a pocket computer, bigger than a civilian version. "You're about twenty years old, Earth time. I'm forty-six. Roxanny?"
"I'm fifty-one," she said without hesitation.
"We take boosterspice, of course. It keeps us from getting old. What crossed my mind," Oliver Forrestier said, "is that this is the first human woman you've ever seen other than your mother, Luis."
Roxanny was smiling, a reluctant smile. And Louis was flushing, suddenly aware that his eyes had lingered too long on Roxanny Gauthier; that he'd edged closer to her than the cramped quarters demanded; that he couldn't look at her and talk coherently. The close air must be alive with pheromones... Roxanny's and Oliver's too. And as Oliver was the first human male he'd seen or sniffed in twenty-odd years--and no room for a shower aboard Snail Darter--it wasn't surprising if Louis felt both horny and threatened.
"Sorry," he said, and eased back by an inch.
It crossed his mind that intimidation could take many forms. They wanted something from Luis: information Louis Wu would have to make up, but still--
Roxanny laughed lightly. "Never mind. Luis, would you like to see Snail Darter? Acolyte, we can't take you aboard. It's too cramped. Luis can tell you about it afterward."
Hanuman's eyes met Louis's, but he said nothing. Wembleth and Acolyte had begun a halting conversation. Wembleth found the Kzin fascinating. Louis closed his faceplate and followed the ARMs out.
The ship was awesomely cramped.
Three seats faced away from each other around a central pillar. One seat was occupied. There was a pucker next to the airlock door for the now-detached tent. A hole in the floor led to a cavity the size of a man: the Weapons and Mission Room.
Roxanny entered first. She slid into the second seat. "LE Luis Tamasan, meet 'Tec-Two Claus Raschid. Claus, Luis," she said. "Not quite a native."
Claus turned around and offered a hand. He was darker than Roxanny, taller than Oliver, and his arm had a long reach. "Luis, I'm the pilot. Sit there."
Louis had hoped to talk to Roxanny alone, or even Oliver alone. They'd both come along, a little too closely agreed for Louis's comfort, leaving Acolyte and Wembleth (and Hanuman) alone in the tent.
Louis slid into the third seat. He felt planes shifting, adjusting to his height and weight and the bulk of his pressure suit. Basic seating: it fit him imperfectly.
Roxanny Gauthier tapped an instruction into her chair arms, using both hands. A crash web held Louis before he could move.
The force field in a crash web would protect a passenger in a collision; it was also useful for police work.
Louis didn't react right away. How would Luis react? Frozen in panic, at least long enough for Louis to think. And then what?
"For your protection. You did say you wanted to see Earth," Roxanny said, smiling like a cat.
Oliver slid in through the airlock and then down through the hatch, into the fourth chair. The Mission and Weapons Room fitted Oliver like a tight suit.
Louis wriggled a bit; the field permitted that much. He asked, "Are we going to Earth?"
"Back to Gray Nurse, anyway," the third crewman said. "We'll be there in an hour. We'd better be. Roxanny, you left the kitchen 'doc behind."
"We had to," she said.
"Stet, but if anything goes wrong--stet. Luis, the carrier Gray Nurse is our first stop, and people other than us will decide where you go from there. I expect that's Earth, or at least Sol system. And hey, you can tell us some things while we're on route. Chiron can't stop you now. You'll be the second Ringworlder to reach human space."
"Don't go through this hole," Louis said.
All three ARMs turned their heads to look at him. Roxanny asked, "Why not?"
That was a tough one. Louis Wu was certain that Tunesmith wouldn't allow an ARM spacecraft to escape this easily. Something would block them... but why would Luis Tamasan say something so out of character?
He said, "Chmeee says he left the world through Fist-of-God. My father came through a different puncture. Neither of them saw anything like this... shimmer. Fist-of-GodMountain isn't repairing itself, is it? But this hole is."
Claus said, "So is Fist-of-God. The crater closed itself weeks ago, before we noticed. We were hoping you could tell us about that."
Tunesmith must have tested his reweaving system, Louis guessed. Luis said nothing.
Claus Raschid had something on a virtual screen. "Here we are. Luis, try to follow this. The nearest puncture we know of is a million miles away. Too far. They'll track us across the surface. Every tanj species in the Fringe War will want us as bad as we want you, because of what we might know. But we might escape if we go through immediately, right here, and with our motors off." The ship lifted. "Here is where Gray Nurse is waiting, our mother ship, in the dark, up against the Ringworld floor--"
Below them Oliver was yelling, "Raschid! What are you playing at?"
Louis tried to yell louder. Being immobilized was driving him frantic. "Drop something first! See what happens to it!"
"I'm getting us home," Raschid told Oliver. The ship eased sideways. Now it was above the puncture. "All power sources off. Luis, if we had the auxiliary fuel tank I'd drop that, but I don't."
They were falling. Louis glimpsed the tent sitting alone on the scrith. They'd be all right, he told himself; they had Hanuman to guide them. The hole expanded. It was full of stars.
Snail Darter smashed down into something that gave.
Crash webs caught his captors recoiling upward. Louis felt his brain bounce in his skull. Already in a crash web, he recovered first... still immobilized. He could hear Oliver screaming below him.
Claus shouted, "What did we hit?"
"Get us out! Get us out!" Roxanny screamed.
Reweaving system, Tunesmith had said. How strong would threads made of scrith be? Strong enough to stop a falling spacecraft? But they'd cut through the hull. The hole must be laced with them.
"The thrusters are dead," Claus said.
"Where are they?" Louis demanded.
Claus craned around to snarl at him. Louis asked, "They're on the bottom, aren't they?" It was ancient habit: shipbuilders tended to put thruster motors where they would have put rockets. "Whatever's in that hole, mending that hole, it's cutting the thrusters apart. We'll sink into it. How long before it reaches the power source? What do you use for a power source? Where is it?" Babbling, he was babbling. Why hadn't the stasis field been triggered? But if that happened, they might be here forever.
Claus was slow catching up. Roxanny Gauthier said, "Midship. It's a battery. If anything cuts into it--"
The ship was indeed sinking inch by inch into the puncture. Worse, it was beginning to tip over.
Claus was staring at them, not getting it. When he did, he yelled in terror. His hands danced above the controls.
Roxanny shouted, "Wait!"
The hatch in the floor closed. Oliver's yell chopped off.
A rocket motor bellowed. The cabin section detached and rose fast, wobbled, then steadied. Claus took over manually; the cabin tilted far over, fell, tilted upright again.
"You killed him!" Roxanny said. "Oliver!"
"He was sitting in the wrong place." Claus glared at Louis Wu, who was in Oliver's chair; then at Roxanny. "Wasn't that you yelling, 'Get us out'?"
The tent billowed in the exhaust as the escape pod thumped down. Recoil threw Roxanny and Claus several inches before their crash webs caught them.
Through the wall of the tent Louis could just see that Acolyte and Hanuman were spreading the rescue pod open for Wembleth to enter.
A brilliant light flared from the direction of the puncture. Then that side of the cabin blackened. Louis yelled, "Roxanny, let me loose!"
"Wait it out, Luis."
A shock wave slammed the cabin.
"They're dying out there! Let me loose! Claus!"
Claus said, "Here." His hand moved, and Louis was free. He rolled out of his chair and into the tiny airlock.
The tent was splayed out in fragments like an exploded balloon. The blast had scattered its contents. Wembleth and his rescue pod rolled gently past, Wembleth tumbling like clothes in an Oil Age dryer, as Louis wiggled out of the airlock.
Acolyte was trying to find his feet, falling over, trying again. Hanuman was not in sight. Wembleth must have regained his senses: he was curled in a tight ball now, still tumbling.
"Acolyte? Are you all right? Pressure okay?"
"My suit is holding pressure. Do you see Hanuman?"
"No."
Wembleth was nearest. Louis flashed his attitude jets, dropped ahead of him, and ran alongside the balloon, pushing to stop its spin. The Ringworlder tried to help. They got it stopped, though Wembleth was unbalanced... off balance because Hanuman was clinging tight to him, face to chest. Hanuman still wore his pressure suit.
"Acolyte, I've got them both."
They walked back toward the ruined tent. Acolyte, Claus, and Roxanny joined them. Roxanny was carrying something heavy, an oblong brick she hugged to her breast.
