The Ringworld Throne r-3

by Larry Niven

  ***

  Next down they’d been rolling. By night they camped on a bluff above a river. The vampires left them alone.

  ***

  They reached Ginjerofer’s herds early on the second day. The Reds had fuel waiting. Charcoal and sulfur they had imported from far away, trading away their own wealth, with little yet to show for it.

  Night covered the sun before the cruisers were loaded. The Reds made camp around the cruisers. When the vampires came, the cannon fired over the heads of Red sharpshooters. By dawn the vampire dead numbered forty or more.

  Cruisers carried trade goods, and Vala made gifts; but forty vampire dead were what bonded these species together.

  The third day carried them through Snowrunner’s Pass. The length of a daywalk varied by difficulty of the terrain, by altitude and slope and species; but Vala thought they’d covered two honest daywalks. They could reach the vampires’ refuge by midday tomorrow, if they were crazy enough to travel so directly.

  ***

  In the morning Cruiser Two came rolling down. Warvia rode above the cannon housing, beneath a sheet awning.

  Twuk called cheerily, “Waast! Is it so, that Snowrunner’s Pass is the easiest through the mountains?”

  “When Reds and Ghouls agree, who can doubt?”

  “Vampires think so, too!”

  Cruiser Two was noisy with victory. Even Grieving Tube’s dark head lifted into the light, squinting, and grinned grotesquely before it sank back. Vala didn’t notice Warvia’s silence, then. Red Herders were rarely merry.

  The din roused others. Vala saw wet black heads surfacing in a line along the shore. The River People came no farther, and Vala let them be, while Kay, Chit, Twuk, Paroom, Perilack, and Silack told their interwoven stories.

  ***

  Kaywerbrimmis parked Cruiser Two on a knob of rock above the pass. The view was of unbroken clouds, not what Kay had hoped for, but he would wait. All had bathed in the streams they crossed, twice in three days. If they were not scentless, at least they’d tried.

  (They weren’t scentless now, grinning and touching and word-wrestling to be next to speak. Vala could guess something of how the night had gone.)

  Darkness flowed over them. Vampires began to stream through the pass. Grieving Tube, on watch, alerted the rest.

  Cruiser Two’s heavy cargo, still piled in the pass, must have carried a scent. Kay sighted the cannon starboard of that point and waited. He killed twenty with three blasts.

  The vampires left the pass empty for a while. Then they’d begun darting across. Kay’s passengers used the chance for target shooting, but otherwise let the vampires through. Bolts and bullets could be recovered, but not gunpowder.

  They bunched up again later. Kay used the cannon again, and stopped almost at once. “They had prisoners, Vala. Big slow guys with big hands and big shoulders, wide-bodied women a head shorter, both of ‘em with yellow hair blooming out around their heads like mushrooms. Warvia saw them best. Warvia?”

  Warvia roused herself. “We know the Farming People. Herbivores. They grow and tend root vegetables and keep animals, too, in partnership with Red Herder tribes who defend them. We didn’t see any Reds last night.”

  Paroom: “They weren’t bunched up and they weren’t trying to escape. They were each with their own vampire, ah, companion. I couldn’t get a clear shot. We shot a few that didn’t have company—”

  Twuk: “They sang at us. Grieving Tube played along. That scared them!”

  Kay: “I couldn’t use the cannon because of the prisoners. Not that we were any help to them. What under the Arch would vampires want with prisoners?”

  Tegger said, “Herds.”

  He spoke almost absently; he was studying Warvia, who would meet nobody’s eyes. Still, it was an ugly thought. Double-ugly: it implied uncomfortably high sapience in vampires.

  “The wind,” Kaywerbrimmis said, “was cold and wet and clean in our nostrils until the night was half gone. The vampires started crossing again, and these didn’t have prisoners. They ran. Maybe the smell of their own dead made them nervous. It was fine shooting. Then the wind shifted around and we smelled them, too.”

  Grieving Tube was looking out from under the awning, listening, though her face was deep in shadow. “I would have hunted them, Kay,” she said. “Our music confuses them, freezes them.”

  Kay’s eyes were on Vala. “Whatever. I invited Grieving Tube to join me in rishathra.” Unspoken: the Ghoul woman was about to join the vampires! “She played, we danced. Warvia accused me of abandoning the fight, but the rest got the idea quick enough—”

  In the general laughter, Harpster’s tenor whisper sounded clear. “How was he?”

  Grieving Tube: “Inspired. Paroom, too.”

  “We all—” Kay stopped suddenly, for no more than a heartbeat, but Vala knew at once. “We all joined in. You understand, Vala, we had them backed up at the pass. As soon as we stopped shooting, they flowed through like a wide river. The smell of them, we could have chopped it into bricks to sell to the elderly.”

  Tegger was looking up at his mate. Warvia’s silence disturbed him, Vala thought, but he hadn’t noticed anything more ominous. Kaywerbrimmis said, “I think the Thurl gave us Twuk because she’s small. Inspired decision.” Twuk smiled brilliantly at him. Warvia was looking into far distances, her face like stone.

  “Two-tenths of night passed this way, I think. Then the wind swung around. I didn’t notice right away: the vampire scent was gone, but we had our own smells by then. But Chit saw—”

  Chit: “Vampires trying to creep upon us across the ice. They’re not much darker than snow themselves.”

  Kay: “The wind went gusty and stayed that way. They’d get a whiff of us and look around, and we were conspicuous, I guess.”

  Paroom: “Ten tens of them.”

  Kay: “Toward morning they stopped coming entirely. We left a carpet of vampires dead in the pass.”

  Twuk: “There’s nothing under the Arch like the stink of a hundred vampire corpses. They do avoid their own dead.”

  Vala: “Might keep it in mind.”

  Twuk: “We collected our cargo and our bolts and bullets at halfdawn. Vala, I think we saw the Shadow Nest.”

  “Tell it.”

  “Warvia?”

  The Red woman didn’t look down. “From spin the light of day flowed toward us while we were still in dark. We were exhausted, but I was at my post, here on the cannon tower. The clouds parted. I saw two black lines. Hard to tell how far, hard to tell how high, but a black plate with structures above, high in the center and glittering silver, and its black shadow parallel below.”

  “Not much more than what Harpster told us, “ Vala said, probing.

  A flash of anger, throttled. “I could see the silver curves of the river, this river, flowing into the shadow.”

  “We know of the Shadow Nest.” A new voice heard from: a glossy black shape of uncertain gender and uncertain age slid out of the water and stood erect on the mud. “I am Rooballabl. Welcome to the Homeflow; have free passage of us. I speak the Tongue better than most. I’m told none of you will rish?”

  “Not underwater, Roobla,” Vala said with regret. That would be a coup. “Shadow Nest?”

  “The Shadow Nest is a cave without walls. A black roof fifteen hundred paces around, with open sides. Vampires have lived and bred below since before any of us were born.”

  Harpster spoke without emerging from the awning. Only Vala heard. “Fifteen hundred paces around would be less then five hundred across, in Water People paces. Two hundred for Grass Giants, three for the rest of us. Three hundred paces in diameter, as we were told.”

  Vala asked, “Roobla, how high is that roof?”

  Rooballabl exchanged a quick sequence of honks with someone still in the water. Then: “Fudghabladl doesn’t know.” More honking. Rooballabl said, “Low enough to block rain even in high wind. Understand, only Fudghabladl has been there.”

  “What�
�s the Homeflow like under the Shadow Nest? Can vampires swim?”

  A gabble of honking voices. One came forward—white fringes on his head and along where his jaw would have been—and chattered at Rooballabl. Rooballabl said, “We must hug the bottom when we pass through. None of us go anymore. The water is a sewer, sometimes a whonkee.” Unknown word. “Vampires never swim.”

  Unseen, Harpster spoke. “Whonkee, path of the dead.” Vala nodded.

  Warvia swung down into the cannon enclosure.

  Vala watched Cruiser Two while the discussion ranged. Warvia didn’t emerge. And where was Tegger?

  The River People had observed the vampires for generations, but from their own viewpoint. Vampires sporadically rolled corpses into the Homeflow, hundreds at a time, from ten to twenty species including their own. A turn later there would be a glut of fish. That used to be worth knowing … but old Fudghabladl hadn’t been near the Shadow Nest in twenty falans or more. Fishing aside, nothing that lay beyond was worth traversing the Shadow Nest.

  Vala dropped her voice. “Harpster. Corpses rolled into the Homeflow are lost to you, aren’t they?”

  “Fish eat them, and Fishers eat the fish, and in the end all is ours.”

  “Flup. You’re being robbed.”

  “Vala, vampires are animals. Animals don’t rob.”

  Rooballabl: “None but the River People may come to the Shadow Nest and leave alive. Why do you ask these things? Why are you here, so many species?”

  Beedj spoke before Vala could. “We go to end the vampire menace. We will attack them in their home. Hominids who cannot travel have supported us.”

  The River People discussed that. Vala thought she saw silent laughter.

  Maybe not. Rooballabl said, “Valavirgillin, we think we saw a Ghoul among your number.”

  “Two of the Night People travel with us. Others parallel our path as friends. They don’t like sunlight, Roobla.”

  “Ghouls and vampires are all People of the Night.”

  Did Rooballabl mean they were allies? “They compete for the same prey on the same terrain. Truly, it’s more complicated than that—”

  “Are you sure they stand with you?”

  For all of a falan, Vala had wondered at the Ghouls’ motives. She said, “Yes, quite sure.”

  “We could not travel with you.”

  “No.”

  “But if you will roll your wagons along the Homeflow, we can travel alongside, Fudghabladl and I. Tell you things. Take vests, teach our lessons downstream.”

  They began working out details. This was unlooked-for luck, and Vala knew she must pursue it, though Tegger and Warvia were nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 7

  Wayspirit

  Tegger knelt with his back to a big pale rock, his heels under his buttocks, quite still. The scrub was all around him, hiding him.

  This was how Reds hunted. And Tegger was hunting through his mind, seeking Tegger. His hands played idly with his sword, honing the edge.

  Thoughts played over the surface of Tegger’s mind. If he let them go deeper, he’d be thinking of Warvia. He knew he couldn’t face that.

  The water’s steady roar had him nodding. He would not hear any creature approaching. Perhaps he would smell it, or see motion in the scrub around him. His sword was defense enough.

  All the action was at the shore. At some point the negotiations had become a swimming party.

  A sword could be used on oneself. Just turn it around. Jump from the top of a rock? The thought merely skimmed the surface of his mind.

  “Tegger hooki-Thandarthal.”

  Tegger jumped and was on the rock, his blade swinging in a full circle before his mind caught up. Vampires don’t speak. What …

  A voice just louder than the river, so low that Tegger might have imagined it, said, “I cannot harm you, Tegger. I grant wishes.”

  No living thing was in sight. Tegger asked, “Wishes?” Had he been found by a wayspirit?

  “I was a living woman once. Now I help others in hope of making a better self. What would you have of me?”

  “Want to die.”

  Pause, then, “Such a waste.”

  Tegger heard a rasp of effort deep beneath the whisper. Somehow he could not believe that his sword would be fast enough. He said, “Wait.”

  “I wait.” The whisper was much closer now.

  Tegger had twice spoken without thinking. Now: he had evaded a quick death. Did he want that? But if wishes could be granted …

  “Something happened last night. I want it not to have happened.”

  “That cannot be.”

  Every man on Cruiser Two, whatever his shape, chemistry, diet, had mated with Tegger’s mate. They have to die, he thought. But the women? … All who know. Warvia, too, he thought, even as his mind was rejecting the notion.

  They did this to Warvia, to me. It was the vampires! Shall I kill half of us with a wish? Undefended, the rest would die. Ginjerofer’s tribe— He saw, suddenly, how the Red tribes would fall before an expanding vampire plague. Men and women, unable to trust one another, would separate in rage. Families and tribes would disintegrate. Vampires would take them one by one.

  Tegger said, “I would have you kill every vampire under the Arch.”

  The whisper came. “I have no such power.”

  “What power have you?”

  “Tegger, I am a mind and a voice. I know things. Sometimes I see things before you do. I never lie.”

  Useless creature. “Wayspirit, your good intent exceeds your means. What if I wish for a fish to eat?”

  “I can do that. Will you wait?”

  “I will, but why?”

  “I must not be seen. I could much more quickly tell you how to get your own fish.”

  True, the shore was very active. “Do you have a name?”

  “Call me what you wish.”

  “Whisper.”

  “Good.”

  “Whisper, I want to kill vampires.”

  “So do all of your companions. Will you rejoin them?”

  Tegger shuddered. “No.”

  “Think what you will need. By now you must know that the vampire’s power reaches farther than your sword—”

  Tegger moaned, his head bowed low, his hands over his ears. The whisperer waited him out, and presently said, “You will need defenses. We should make a list.”

  “Whisper, I don’t want to talk to any of them.” He was beginning to remember that for a falan of nights among the Thurl’s people, he and Warvia had tried to explain why their monogamous nature made them superior to the lure of the vampire. It made the other species irritable.

  Whisper said, “The first vehicle is abandoned save for Harpster. Harpster sleeps. Even if he wakes, he will not disturb you. Take what you will need.”

  ***

  Vala was wishing she could get into the spirit of the thing.

  The water was cold. You had to stay active to stay warm. Everyone seemed to be washing each other. Discussions involving physiognomy or rishathra could be answered by pointing. Chitakumishad and Rooballabl were trying to work out an arrangement that would leave Chit’s mouth above water. Beedj and Twuk were watching and making suggestions. Any parasites had been washed away, but Gleaners were good at finding a phantom itch.

  Barok turned, grinning. His hands took Vala’s shoulders and firmly turned her around. He scrubbed her back briskly with some scratchy sea-vegetable thing.

  It was all wonderfully friendly, as it can be among species who don’t compete for the same needs. All would be well if only Warvia and Tegger would come running out of the payload shell, hand in hand.

  She looked over her shoulder. The river sounds would drown her lowered voice. “Sabarokaresh, I need your help. You and Kaywerbrimmis and Chitakumishad.”

  Barok continued his work. “What kind of help?”

  “Come with me when I look inside Cruiser Two.”

  His hands stopped then. He looked around. “I don’t think w
e should disturb Chit.”

  “No. Do you think he’ll get that to work?”

  “Might drown himself. There’s Kay over there. Unusual view.”

  Kaywerbrimmis was lying on his belly, mostly in the water, drawing maps in the mud with his fingertips. An unidentifiable River Person was advising him. Vala pulled herself up on his other side and asked, “Learning anything?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Give me a few breaths of your time, me and Barok?”

  He looked around, studied her face, decided not to ask. jumped to his feet and was pulling her along, as naked as she and Barok. There was no chance for Vala to go to her piled clothes.

  She might have liked going naked, if the rain would ease off. Was clothing really that dangerous? But it wasn’t just a matter of keeping clean. A vampire night learn that there was blood underneath the scent of woven cloth or cured leather.

  It wasn’t her clothes she wanted. It was her pack.

  A pack would look incongruous on a naked woman.

  … Oh, no doubt it would be all right.

  When the three were out of anyone’s earshot, Vala asked, “Kay, how did Warvia act—”

  “Rished with all of us.”

  She stepped up onto the running board. “Bother her?”

  “It did. A few times she tried to go outside. Maybe just to get clear of us, maybe to go to the vampires. They would have had her anyway. She’s wrong about being immune.”

  “Kay, nobody believed that—”

  “Warvia did. I couldn’t let her out. Come daylight, we tried to calm her down.” He was talking through clenched teeth. “No good. Maybe a woman. Or someone who wasn’t there. Could get her talking.”

  “I’ll try,” Vala said. She opened the trick lock and entered the payload shell.

  It wasn’t quite dark. Light glared down from the gun tower. Vala sniffed at the ghosts of old cargoes and waited for her eyes to adjust.

  Gunpowder. Minch and pepperleek. Great masses of grass for Twuk and Paroom. Soap: strange stuff made by a species far to starboard. She sniffed for old stenches, the fear-sweat of people hiding from attackers, agony of the wounded; but those had been cleaned away. There was no smell of blood.