The Gripping Hand

by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle

  "Aye, aye, sir." Rawlins signed off.

  At least he didn't ask if I know what I'm doing.

  An hour later Freddy saw the Khanate Warriors turning. "They've found us," he said. "Somehow."

  Renner grinned widely. "They've found us and they're chasing us. Stand by for acceleration. Horace, how does one standard gee sound? We'll take it up slowly."

  "Heavenly," Bury said.

  "Stand by." Weight returned slowly.

  "There," Freddy said. "You can unstrap now. It should be steady enough."

  Behind Sinbad, little dots of fusion flame now numbered over a hundred and rising. As many more Khanate ships had not turned: they were still on route toward the massed Khanate allies, Bandits One-Two-Three. Other lights . . . what were they doing? Converging, then going out one by one.

  Renner said, "Omar, get on the horn to our forces around the Sister. Orders unchanged: leave the main fleet alone, but watch for stragglers. Keep it expensive going through the Sister, but stay alive."

  "Fleet in being," Victoria said.

  "Right—where did you learn that phrase?"

  "It was in one of the books MacArthur left behind. The reference was to sea power, but—"

  "Mahan," Joyce said. "He wrote before space travel."

  "Oh. Victoria, I need your help."

  "Yes, Kevin."

  "I need some work done. Get the Engineers on it. We need some alterations in Sinbad's Langston Field. Townsend can show you what we need."

  "Right away."

  "Horace, how are you feeling?"

  "I've been better, Kevin. I've been altering my will. I will need you to witness that it is my work, and that I am in my right mind."

  "Bizarre. You never were before."

  "Kevin, you will need to be convincing. Truly. Now say, 'Horace Bury was in his right mind,' without smiling."

  "Maybe another approach. Tonight, Igor, we must build a convincing duplicate of Kevin Renner."

  "May we have doglike devotion this time, Master? I wanted doglike devotion last time."

  Glenda Ruth was staring. It was something, to have shaken Glenda Ruth Blaine.

  "But it might interfere with his sense of humor, Igor!"

  "Yes, Master, yes, yes! Please may we interfere with his sense of humor . . . I don't have the energy, Kevin."

  "Yeah. Give me a sanity check, Horace. Glenda Ruth, listen up. Here's what I have in mind . . ."

  Joyce's hand was steady as she poured tea into Cynthia's cup. Acceleration was down to one-half gravity for the moment, but she didn't expect that to last. For the past ten hours there had been sudden and random accelerations as Sinbad avoided different attacks from the hundreds of ships following.

  "If someone tells me that 'a stern chase is a long chase' one more time," Joyce said, "I'll scream." She sipped carefully, then looked at the older woman, not bothering to conceal her curiosity. "You've been with Bury a long time. Is it always like this?"

  Cynthia's smile might have been painted on. "Not precisely. When my uncle Nabil offered me service with His Excellency, I knew we would face many enemies, but few of them had warships. Mostly we are concerned with assassination."

  "What's it like, working for a man who has that many enemies?"

  "He has enemies because he is a great man," Cynthia said. "I feel honored to serve him. When I graduated from medical school—"

  Joyce was startled and showed it despite her news training. "You're a doctor?"

  "Yes. Does that seem so unlikely?"

  "Well, no, but—yes, actually. I thought you were a bodyguard."

  Cynthia's smile softened. "I do that as well. But you were supposed to assume I am a concubine. Thank you, I will have more tea."

  "I'm supposed to think you're a concubine. Are you?"

  "The appearance is a professional duty. Nothing else is required."

  Which could mean anything. "It must be a strange career for a doctor."

  "Call it my first career. I will have others after I retire from His Excellency's service. And think of the stories I can tell my children!" Cynthia's laugh was almost inaudible. "Of course first I will have to find a father for them."

  Joyce laughed. "Looking at you, I wouldn't think that would be so hard to do."

  Cynthia shrugged. "I have no difficulty finding lovers. And our culture is changing. Not just on Levant."

  "That's for sure." Joyce looked around Sinbad's crowded lounge, humans and aliens, magnate and aristocrats and naval officer, and grinned. "That's for damned sure."

  The Empire ships fled across the Mote system. For Joyce it had been three days of trying to make sense out of myriad details.

  Sinbad and Atropos had jumped into Mote system, then accelerated toward the inner system for forty-five minutes, then coasted. Minutes later the Khanate Warrior ships had poured through an invisible hole, paused, then blasted away in the wrong direction. They'd used up an hour's fuel—but at low thrust—before they found Sinbad and Atropos.

  Since then it had been a race; but there were nuances.

  Bury's couch was located near the door to the control cabin. It made a convenient gathering point when the cabin door was open. When Freddy went over to tell Bury what was happening, Joyce went to listen—and noticed that Glenda Ruth didn't come over until after Joyce had joined the party.

  "We laid low. Got them moving in the wrong direction for a while," Freddy said. "Odds are they can recognize our exhaust, so we didn't give them one. Maybe they found Atropos's old-style Langston Field. But this much for sure, they're chasing us."

  "Flattering," Glenda Ruth said.

  Freddy didn't answer.

  "Getting all our enemies into one bunch," Bury said. "It is not the first time. On Tabletop—but that was a long time ago."

  "Yeah. Well, it isn't quite working," Freddy said. "We've got maybe a hundred twenty on our tail, out of a thousand. Three hundred kept going; they've just about reached the Bandit cluster. We still don't know what they think they're guarding, but never mind that. I've lost five hundred of the buggers."

  Kevin Renner said, "They haven't disappeared. It only means they're not under thrust."

  "What are they doing?" Glenda Ruth asked.

  Freddy shrugged. Kevin said, "Something else. Something interesting."

  Horace Bury spoke suddenly. "The thing to remember is that we've won."

  Joyce said, "I beg your pardon?"

  "The Khanate Axis will not pass Agamemnon. Will not burst free into the Empire. They can never reclaim that option. Now their only hope is to replace the Medina Alliance. Well, what of that? They must reproduce Medina's agreements and fulfill them as best they can. They must even be overcooperative, to cover promises they might be expected to remember."

  Joyce thought that through. "But they'd have to kill us all. And our friends."

  "Silence every voice, yes. But the Empire of Man is safe now. The Mote will be organized according to our wishes and custom. We have won that war now," said Horace Bury. "We have protected the Empire of Man, indeed."

  And Kevin Renner was trying to swallow a laugh; but why?

  Wait— "You could do it!" Joyce cried. "I mean, I'm being very unprofessional here, but—if push came to shove, if they've got us in a box, you could still negotiate. The Empire could get what it wants from the Khanate instead."

  They were looking at her. Joyce was sorry she'd spoken. Nobody spoke until Renner said, "Yup."

  "Would you? Rather than, um, die?"

  "No."

  Now the eyes turned away, and only Glenda Ruth sighed in relief. Joyce thought, Why not? and said, "Okay."

  "We don't want to teach the wrong lesson here, Joyce. Treachery can become habit-forming."

  Five days: part acceleration, part coasting, Sinbad and Atropos led the enemy fleet across Motie space. Five days to observe, not just the battle, but the people.

  Freddy Townsend was busy, too busy to talk . . . but it was more than that.

  Freddy was avoiding Gl
enda Ruth, just a bit. Joyce was willing to learn why, but she hadn't thought of an excuse to probe. And Freddy would clam up a bit when Joyce was wearing her "reporter" hat.

  But he would talk to both women. Joyce found herself coming on to him a little; when she caught herself at that, or when Glenda Ruth did, she would back off; but she could loosen his tongue that way. There was so much to understand, and Freddy was her best source of information.

  "But this is the part we're wondering about," Freddy said, and with a woman peering over each shoulder, he moved his cursor about the screen. "Here, a quarter of the fleet turned around to chase us. Another third went on to join the Bandit cluster, the Khanate allies that never went through. What are they after? Why did they think they'd find Sinbad and Atropos in that direction?"

  "Fuel," Kevin Renner said without turning around. "They must be desperate for fuel by now. They're trading time for fuel."

  "The rest of them turned off their drives. That lasted for hours. Then we got this." Freddy put the cursor on a tight pattern of blue-white points, like a cityscape or the work lights on a half-built factory. "And that's been following us, changing as it goes."

  Again Kevin spoke without turning. "We think those ships are all linked up into one framework. They'd have broken up some ships to build it. It took them ten hours. Then they came after us."

  "If Empire ships tried that, they'd come apart like nose wipes in the rain," Freddy said. "Even so, they're only doing a fifth of a gee. Hundreds of ships are following them from Bandit cluster, linking up."

  "Fuel ships, of course. I bet they're dropping stuff on the way, too. Empty ships. Spare troops. They'll keep some framework to make their structure stronger. Unless I'm crazy. Jesus, Freddy, I wish we could see that thing better."

  "It looks a lot like Vermin City, backlit," Freddy said. "Not much pattern, and that changes every minute. Okay, Joyce, Group A is still in the lead. They'll reach us first, yes? We have to outrace them."

  "First, but with dry tanks. Group A can't maneuver," Kevin said. "That's not going to hurt them, unfortunately, because they've guessed where we're going. Group B might get to us late, but with fuel to maneuver."

  "You're guessing, Commodore."

  "But it's what Moties would do," Glenda Ruth said. "The ships they start with won't be the ships that attack you."

  "Keep a watch. I want to close my eyes for an hour."

  "Yessir. Hold it! Commodore?"

  Drive lights flared where the cursor lay. "I see it," Kevin said. "See if you can get a better picture. I have the watch."

  "What is it, Kevin?" Bury demanded.

  "Won't know for an hour," Renner said.

  They were building a sketchy dinner when they heard Freddy whoop. Joyce reset the oven before she followed Glenda Ruth.

  Freddy was grinning. "Sanity check. We've been right all along. What do you see?"

  Behind the tight pattern of blue lights that was Khanate Group B was a looser pattern, a score of drive lights well spread out and shifting in intensity. Kevin said, "Two of those just went out. Shot down by our guys?"

  Freddy looked. "Our allies aren't anywhere near. It's possible, of course. Warriors are just bloody damned good at killing . . . Enhanced view, Screen Two."

  "Right. Khanate rescue ships, Freddy. They're towing that cylinder now. Rescue or salvage. And the rest are still

  coming . . . and there goes another pair. They're merging. Group B must be leaving garbage and personnel clear across the sky."

  "That'll hurt 'em."

  "It will if our allies have anything to say about it. They're losing mass, losing numbers, losing firepower, all to get the fuel to reach us. You agree? It's us the Warrior ships are after. The Empire ships."

  "Yessir."

  "I should talk to Atropos."

  Joyce found the next hour even more confusing. It was frustrating: she had her news equipment, nothing was being kept from her, but she wasn't getting a story she could tell.

  "The only thing that still concerns me is this," she heard Renner telling Atropos. "When we go through the Crazy Eddie point, we have to know that no Master ship has given the Warrior ships new orders. Otherwise we'll be abandoning the Mote system to the Khanate."

  And that made sense, but how to lay it out for a viewer? If we lose, you'll never know it. Even we may never know. If we returned via New Cal and that little orange star, a year from now we could be talking to a replacement Eudoxus speaking for a replacement Medina. All Moties look alike, but these are the good guys and—?

  "Maybe later," she said to Bury. "Maybe I'll understand later."

  "And perhaps you never will," Bury said.

  "If we lose—"

  "Yes, of course, but even if we win. It has happened to me." And he launched into another tale of his terrible past, a skewed view of Empire history that Joyce could never have bought with pearls and rubies.

  There had been incidents. Sometimes the Khanate fleet beamed laser light at them, forcing Sinbad and Atropos to take turns shadowing each other. Renner and Townsend had at first considered this a mere annoyance.

  "Probably tryin' to distract us," Freddy said in one of the rare intervals he was off duty. Commodore Renner kept Freddy Townsend busy. When he did get a break, he often

  used the opportunity to talk to Horace Bury; and when that happened, Joyce invited herself into the party.

  "They've scattered their fleet," Joyce said. "Some of the ships used all their power and now can't keep up. Why would they do that, Freddy?"

  Freddy said, "I can tell you what they're doing, but why is out of my department. You'll be famous even if you don't know why."

  Horace Bury chuckled. "I should instruct my brokers to invest in your network. You will have the highest ratings in Imperial history, I think."

  "A few weeks ago I would have resented your saying that," Joyce said. "And even more resented it if you'd actually bought stock in IBC."

  "And now?"

  Joyce shrugged. "It's your ship, and we're all on it."

  "Besides, his brokers will already have made the investments," Glenda Ruth said.

  "Cautiously. They'll buy too little," Bury said. "After all, it was not certain that we would be bringing Miss Trujillo to the Mote."

  "Or that we'd come out alive," Joyce said.

  "Well, if we don't, it won't matter if the investment's no good," Freddy said.

  "Oh, Freddy, that's silly," Glenda Ruth said. "His Excellency—"

  "Acceleration warning. Action stations."

  "Oh, Lor', what now?" Freddy demanded.

  "It's a big mess of junk under high velocity," Renner said.

  Most of the leading Khanate ships were in deceleration mode at high thrust. Most of them. A few were burning fuel at a prodigious rate and converting that to energy beamed at Sinbad; and out of the glare of that beam came a dark mass on a collision course.

  "We'll have to dodge," Freddy said. Sinbad began to turn.

  "Yeah. Horace, Group A ran up to maximum velocity and then stripped their ships. It could be mostly fuel tanks. Freddy's turning the ship."

  "It won't cost us too much fuel."

  "No, but I should— Atropos calling, good." Joyce heard Renner setting a direction for the other ship. Sinbad and Atropos would diverge.

  Four minutes later—the lightspeed gap—Group A's junk pile pulled into two masses. They'd armed it with motors. Freddy spoke of raping his lizard; Renner called Atropos and ordered a laser barrage.

  Four minutes later the junk pile flared with the light of Atropos's barrage. An instant later it flashed a hundred times as bright! The camera overloaded and burned out before Freddy could enfold Sinbad in the Langston Field. Glenda Ruth was cowering with an arm over her eyes, and Joyce was waiting for glowing spots to disappear. She knew better than to interrupt Freddy or Kevin.

  Freddy spoke anyway. "They had a mirror. The clever little . . . nightmares waited for our beam and then threw it back at us. It's way dimmer now, but they're
still throwing sunlight at us. It's nothing, Glenda Ruth. Just another goddamn nuisance attack."

  And more to understand. Medina Alliance ships trailed the Khanate fleet, darted in toward it with a reckless expenditure of resources, fired lasers and missiles, then darted away again, fuel gone, coasting away from the battle to be rescued by unarmed ships from other clans.

  "Another major development," Joyce dictated. "There's a big fleet, two hundred ships and more, trailing the Khanate war fleet. They're rescuing ships that run out of fuel. Khanate and Alliance ships alike, they're retrieving stragglers. We thought they were Khanate allies, but they're not. They're neutrals.

  "We've changed Mote politics like nothing else in their history. A hundred families and clans in cooperation, hundreds more gathering their strength, but all of them staying uncommitted.

  "Our Motie allies say this is a good sign.

  "Joyce Mei-Ling Trujillo, Imperial Post-Tribune Syndicate."

  "We are ninety minutes from the Alderson point everyone calls the Crazy Eddie point. The Moties are getting nervous. No one likes Jump shock much, but our Motie friends really dread it. We can hope the prospect makes the Khanate Warriors nervous.

  "The situation is this: Sinbad and Atropos are on course for the Jump point and decelerating. The leading elements of a war fleet from Byzantium, the most powerful of our allies, have already reached the Crazy Eddie point and are standing by for orders.

  "Meanwhile, things are happening in the pursuing fleet." Joyce zoomed in on a screen.

  The structure they'd been calling Khanate B was under heavy deceleration. The tremendous junk pile was no longer a single object. The bright sparks of fusion drives were separating in pairs.

  Another screen showed a blurry picture relayed from Atropos: two Khanate ships docked and remained docked until one reconstructed ship began to decelerate, leaving part of its mass as debris.

  "We don't know what this means," Joyce said. Reporterspeak for I don't know. Kevin and Freddy had given over arguing about it, but Renner had taken time off to talk with Bury. Marooned faceup in a water bed at high gee, Horace Bury could at least use the entertainment. Joyce turned the camera on them; they didn't notice.