The Gripping Hand

by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle

"Enemies of our enemies," Bury said. "We can but watch with patience. Allah has been merciful."

  "Joyce, there are many answers to your question," Victoria said. "Their history. The Khanate has had few successes with alliances."

  "Given their record this is not surprising," Omar said.

  "All true. They treat their allies with contempt. They did not honor the terms they had made with us. And now they see unlimited potential if only one of their colony ships survives to roam Imperial space."

  "Unlimited," Glenda Ruth said. "Crazy Eddie. An entire clan."

  "We see it, too," Victoria said. "As do Medina and East India. Call it an entire culture."

  Sinbad's control bridge was dark except for the navigation screens. Freddy had closed it off from the lounge. He had set the pilot's couch for massage mode.

  Glenda Ruth noted Freddy's relaxed posture. "Hi."

  "Hello."

  "I saw some activity on the screens."

  Freddy nodded. "The battle's started up again. I told the Commodore. There's not much we can do about it, for another fourteen hours, so there wasn't any point in rousing the others."

  And you're not saying why you didn't call me. "What do we do when we get there?"

  "Good question," Freddy said. "On this course we'll shoot past at about two hundred klicks a second."

  "That's not much use."

  Freddy showed some irritation. "If we slow to match velocities, we'll be forever getting there. The idea is that we can boost our thrust at the end if somebody needs our firepower. Otherwise it's safer to go through fast and backtrack."

  "Good news from all over," Glenda Ruth said.

  The main screen flared, a blue flash. She stared at it. "Freddy—"

  "It's all right. You don't have to watch."

  Her voice was almost patronizing, though it came three seconds later. "Freddy love, there's not much point anyway. All I'm seeing is colored lights. Why don't you tell me what's happening? Pretend it's a race."

  "Race. Okay." A touch zoomed the picture, expanded

  the center of the maze of colored lines. Lasers were splashing across black and coal-red balloons of varied size. One was inflating, green, blue, a white flash like a nova. "They began with twenty-six big ships. After twelve hours of fighting it's twenty-three. They're not moving much, but your brother would recognize that dance they're doing. Ship A floats behind Ship B. Ship B takes the heat for a while. You can't do it unless the enemy is all in one direction. Ship A sheds some energy, then drops the Langston Field just as it passes from the other ship's shadow. Fires everything. Turns on its Field again . . . oops."

  "Doesn't always work?"

  "No. Twenty-two."

  "Uh-huh. Freddy, that was twenty-six clans of the Khanate. Each ship is an extended family. The ships are different sizes because some families are bigger, or richer. It's worth remembering that Moties don't flinch at extermination."

  Freddy looked at her.

  "What are they doing now? Freddy, there goes another one!"

  "Caught you looking." He turned. "Where's the cloud?"

  "No, it just winked out. There, another one."

  "No, my love, that one's not dead." He slapped at the intercom keys. "Commodore! Mister Bury!"

  Bury's image appeared on the intercom screen. "I saw. Kevin? Two ships have fled through the Sister. I think they are all in motion. There goes another one, yes, Freddy?"

  "Yes, and another one just died. Five down, three gone through, and the rest are converging on the Sister."

  "Okay. Atropos won't have to fight." Renner sounded tired, and there was no image on the screen. "Freddy, we'll have to go through, but that won't be for fourteen hours. You have the watch. I'd appreciate it if you'd work the navigation problem. It lets the rest of us get some sleep." There was a moment of silence. "Horace, we've got to talk to the Moties. We can't go through the Jump alone."

  "So I had surmised. Go to sleep, Kevin. I will negotiate."

  Kevin Renner set his couch to full recline and closed his eyes. He heard Bury's voice, brisk but with a thread of

  fatigue in it. "Omar, we will need as many warships as can be assembled to accompany Atropos and Sinbad through the Sister . . ." And then it all faded out.

  * * *

  "Urgent message," the computer announced.

  Renner sat up at the console. "Put it through."

  Eudoxus showed on the screen. Renner punched in questions: Base Six was a bit under four light-minutes behind him.

  "Kevin, the fleets of Byzantium are delayed. They will not reach the Sister in time to accomplish anything. Shall we send them elsewhere? Also, we have detected objects on an intercept course with Sinbad. Three unidentified ships on this vector." There was a twitter of binary data. "They should be twenty-six minutes from intercept when you receive this."

  Renner thought it through, then sent, "I assume Byzantium is still your ally. Ask them and any other allies to join you at Base Six. Help to secure the Sister. We will look at your unidentified ships. Our present plans are unchanged. We will follow the Atropos group through the Sister. With luck you will secure the Sister from this side." Kevin thought for a moment and shrugged. Why not? "Godspeed." Renner clicked off. "Mr. Townsend?"

  Freddy Townsend's picture said, "What's up?"

  "Screen two." They studied the screen together. Black space and stars, and three dots approaching from low and thirty degrees off the port bow, a degree below the Pleiades.

  "Sinbad's detectors haven't seen them yet," Freddy said. "Maybe now that we know where to look . . ."

  "Right." Renner punched in commands. "Three targets acquired. Constant bearing, and closing, thirty thousand klicks. They're not throwing anything at us yet, Freddy." He watched violet-white lights weaving about him and said, "I'd say our allies are already alerted, but call them anyway and make sure Rawlins knows, too."

  "Wake anyone else up?"

  "Call Joyce." Bury was fast asleep. His readouts were

  a little jagged, a bit disturbing. The Moties slept, too, and Kevin considered. "We don't need a translator, do we?"

  "Let her sleep. Death makes Glenda Ruth twitchy."

  Joyce Trujillo was awake: Kevin could see her screen alight past the back of her head. "Hi, Joyce. Battle shaping up. Freddy, have you got any of the other ships?"

  "Signal from Ten, but I can't read it. Warriors. I'm waking Omar."

  "Swell."

  Omar uncurled and sat up. What followed was a rapid exchange between Sinbad and its twenty small Motie Warrior fighter escorts. Omar said, "You are to be protected."

  Irritating. Kevin said, "If I tell you that I am a Mediator-Warrior—"

  "Ships Six through Twenty deployed between us and Bandit Cluster One. Ships One through Five in reserve. Expected attack at high velocity, two clusters of fighters around a fuel tank, expected to separate, plus a Master ship. These are some random ally of the Khanate, arriving late but obliged to protect the Sister from capture by East India and Medina."

  "Much better, Omar. Might they be aware that the Khanate has abandoned them? Give me your best guess."

  "They will not guess that, because the Khanate need not have told them what the Sister does. Ship One suggests you activate your Langston Field now."

  Renner did that. Screens went black, then lit one by one as he raised cameras.

  Violet lights were diminishing toward the Pleiades. "Omar, did all of our escort go off to fight?"

  "Omar's off," Freddy said. "I see four Warrior fighters still with us, not holding any special position. Dammit—" He didn't have to finish. Glenda Ruth was watching Joyce's screen with bright eyes.

  Joyce spoke to her, a near-whisper in the dark cabin. Kevin wasn't meant to hear. "Are we going to fight, do you think?"

  "To fight, or to timidly hide behind our allies? Hmm." If Glenda Ruth hadn't meant him to hear, Kevin didn't believe he would have. "Joyce, we tried to put everything

  we know in the message to Weigle. We even duped
your tapes as a supplement."

  " 'Even'?"

  "Barring that message, whether or not it went through, everything mankind knows about Moties is right here in Sinbad.''

  Three enemy dots had become a spray of lights. Sinbad's Warrior fighters were dancing, an unpredictable pattern. The enemy began to dance, too. When the enemy is light-seconds away, it is possible to dodge laser beams.

  "The thing is," Glenda Ruth said, "if Sinbad has to fight, it'll be a very bad sign."

  "It's likewise true that my holos may be the most important thing to emerge from Mote system."

  "Point."

  "I've read about space-fleet engagements," Joyce said. "They all say the same thing. They'd be boring if they weren't terrifying. I didn't really believe that before."

  The weaving lights of the enemy ships had converged to one blurred point and stayed that way. Renner frowned. What did they think they were doing?

  They were withdrawing, the Warrior ships protecting the Master. Sinbad's entourage were too many for them.

  * * *

  Bandit Cluster Two was bigger. They went past at six hundred klicks per, firing once. Cluster One's beams impinged on Sinbad at the same time, the attack easily absorbed by Langston Fields. Cluster Two decelerated to join One.

  Atropos reached the Sister and took up station there, without incident, surrounded by East India Trading's Warriors and the remnants of the Crimean Tartar war fleet. The Medina outriders were already arriving.

  A third Bandit Cluster arrived, too. With Cluster One/Two they gathered their forces into a complex pattern half a million klicks out and forward of the Sister, then held station.

  Freddy Townsend recorded that and later played it for

  Renner at high speed. "Sir, it ought to make a pattern, but I can't see it."

  "Omar, who are these?"

  "Three families, one local, none of any consequence. The Khanate's contract to depart Mote system must leave enough wealth behind to back any number of alliances."

  "Okay. There aren't enough to attack us. They're expecting the Khanate to come surging back through the Sister. Then when we flee, these guys block our path."

  "What's in that direction?"

  "It doesn't matter. They're not between us and what we want. They only think they are. Freddy, how close are we to the Sister?"

  "Three hours, but we'll be going through at two hundred klicks per, unless we increase thrust. Another three hours if we miss the pass."

  Bury was asleep. His telltales seemed to have settled down: he was resting well. Give him another hour, Renner thought. "Belay thrust increase. Omar, we need a conference with our escorts and allies. Freddy, please call Commander Rawlins."

  "Let me be sure of this," Rawlins said. "We're going through the Sister. Me first, and I'm to try to protect the lot of you. What from?"

  "Whatever the Khanate has left as doorkeeper," Renner said. "Opinion is divided on just how much that will be."

  "Okay," Rawlins said. "Standard convoy escort through a Jump point. I can do that, but the Moties will have to cooperate. Shall we work out the courses, or will you?"

  "Your job," Renner said. "I've been away from it awhile. You'll do it better. Now, we're six hours behind you if Townsend's maneuver works, thirteen if it doesn't. You'd better not wait. We'll follow you."

  "Yes, sir. Okay, I go in and cover the forty-seven Motie alliance warships you're vectoring in. Then when we're all through, we make for Agamemnon at flank speed."

  "Everything that gets through," Renner said. "You've got a copy of my report to Agamemnon. Relay that if you can. The important thing is to keep the Khanate from getting out to the Empire. Don't you agree?"

  "Yes. All right. Sir. Okay, but there are too many ships for me to cover them all. I'll have to send some through in a dispersion pattern. It’ll work out the course vectors and send them over within an hour. As for Sinbad, you're moving too fast, it would take hours to match velocities."

  "We don't have hours. We're too slow anyway, with Mr. Bury aboard."

  "Exactly. We'll fight what we find there while you and your escorts go right on past. They won't be expecting that."

  "That's the way I see it," Renner said.

  "Then we all go on. Commodore, I suggest you work on the message to Balasingham. He isn't going to like seeing a bunch of Motie ships coming at him."

  "Right. Thanks," Renner said. "Omar, make sure your people understand. Commander Rawlins will have his computers work out a course for every ship. It's important they follow directions exactly.''

  "Understood," Omar said. "Thank you."

  "Okay, Commander, we'll wait for you to call. Thanks." Renner turned to Freddy Townsend. "So. Still think we can get through at two hundred klicks?"

  "Piece of cake."

  "Just what is happening?" Joyce asked. "Freddy?"

  "Give me a minute," Freddy said.

  "Omar," Renner said. "When you can spare a moment, we have a job for your Engineer." He tapped furiously and a series of diagrams appeared on the screen. "I need this set up."

  "The Flinger, Kevin?"

  Bury. "Yeah." Renner glanced at Bury's medical readouts. They'd settled to normal. "Glad you got a good rest. We're going through, and we don't know what's on the other side. I want to erect the Flinger."

  "Indeed." Bury sighed. "In that case—Cynthia, I believe you should open the sealed locker in Compartment Eight. We may need its contents."

  The brown Motie Engineer had been studying the screen. Now she chattered to Omar.

  "Problem?" Renner asked.

  "No, she understands the mechanism and its purpose. It will be done in less than an hour. Indeed, she says she can make considerable improvements—"

  "No!" Bury said. "My ship, and by the Prophet, no! Leave it as it was designed."

  Renner was chuckling, but stopped when he saw the medical readouts. "Omar, I think it will be best if the system works as I expect it to. We can leave the improvements for another time."

  "Very well." Omar spoke rapidly. The Engineer and Watchmakers went aft to find their pressure suits.

  "Please," Joyce said. "Won't somebody tell me what's happening?"

  "What's happening, or what we think is happening?" Glenda Ruth asked.

  "Both!"

  "I would appreciate the information myself," Bury said.

  Kevin kept an ear cocked. Freddy, too, was listening, though he had his own work.

  "Not for the record, my opinion only." The screens showed a chart of the Mote system. Glenda Ruth said, "The Khanate sent its main war fleet through the Sister while the Masters and their colony ships stayed behind. East India and Medina made it too hot for them, and they fled through as well. We figure they'll be headed for the Jump to New Cal, but they'll have to find it first.

  "Meanwhile, our group is heading toward the Sister. There's another squadron of alliance ships that can work it so they get there just ahead of us. Atropos goes in with those. If there's nothing there to shoot at, they'll head directly for Agamemnon at the exit point. We'll follow at our own speed."

  "Oh," Joyce said. "Of course. We know where it is."

  "So we ought to get there first . . . Atropos and the Medina fleet, that is. Rawlins goes directly there, so the Khanate won't know just how strong we are."

  "But we're expecting trouble."

  "The Khanate is entirely likely to leave a sniper or six," Glenda Ruth said.

  "But they know how many ships we have. Don't they?"

  "How could they possibly know what we'll take through? Anyway, that's why Atropos goes first. He goes

  through and we follow, as many as we can. Some snugged up behind Atropos, the rest in a crazy-quilt pattern. The notion is that some get through. A lot get through."

  "Oh."

  "Something else they won't expect," Freddy said. "Or rather they will expect-—"

  "Jump shock," Omar said. "They will have experienced it. Eudoxus says it is formidable—but less so for you than us. Th
ey will not expect you to recover as quickly as you will. Our Warrior officers agree. It is a good plan."

  Atropos went second. First there was a fan of twenty East India warships not much larger than Imperial corvettes traveling at high but different speeds. Their mission was to distract whatever enemy waited on the other side of Crazy Eddie's Sister.

  Freddy Townsend watched in appreciation. "Any regatta commodore would be proud of that performance."

  "Or fleet admiral for that matter," Renner said. "All right, there goes Atropos." Alliance warships huddled close behind the Imperial cruiser, in what would have been called "line ahead" in wet-navy days. Now they vanished one by one as Sinbad hurtled toward the Jump point.

  Sinbad's Warrior entourage would have been visible if the Field were not up. They were needed for more than protection. Freddy Townsend was using them for triangulation.

  The Sister was thirty seconds away.

  "If we make this, it'll be a record," Freddy said. "Will I be allowed to file it?"

  Kevin said, "Not my decision. And if we miss, we can try again, of course, but that's three hours down the recycler, Freddy, and I don't know how important three hours is. Give it your best."

  "Always."

  Victoria and Omar concurred: any decent Warrior pilot could do this. With twenty Warrior pilots to triangulate, even a human pilot had a chance.

  Kevin never saw Freddy hit the switch.

  7

  Jump Shock

  Among other evils which being unarmed brings you, it causes you to be despised.

  —Niccolo Machiavelli

  In the two days before the Khanate ships found them, Jennifer had little to do but watch Terry, and talk to Pollyanna, and pray. The God of mankind was God of the Mote, too. She prayed for solutions that would bring peace to both kinds of mind.

  When the Khanate ships approached, Jennifer looped Freddy's stored data on the Contraceptive-Longevity Worm. The Khanate Warriors found it running when they burst through the wall.

  For a time they ignored it. Two Engineers, four Watchmakers, and a Warrior searched once for booby traps, then in leisurely fashion for anything of interest. A Mediator and a Master arrived, discussed, examined. Cerberus's cabin was again infested with Moties.