by Larry Niven
Clave said, "Hold it, Merril. Ilsa, are you sure? You can move a jungle, and that's good, right?"
Ilsa nodded cautiously. Anthon said, "That's one of the things we like about jungle life."
"But you can only do it every twenty years or so. We can moor the carrier…carm to the middle of an integral tree and move it when and where we like."
"Why not do that with a jungle?"
"Where would you mount the carm?"
Anthon thought it over. "The funnel? No, it might suddenly blow live steam—" He smiled suddenly. "There are more of you than us anyway. Sure, pick a tree."
There was a grove of eight small trees, thirty to fifty kilometers long.
The Grad chose the biggest, without asking. He hovered on the forward jets at the western reach of the in tuft.
It was a wilderness. A stream ran down the trunk and directly into the treemouth. He looked for the rounded shapes of distorted old huts, and they weren't there. The foliage around the treemouth had never been cut; there were no paths for burial ceremonies or moving of garbage. No earthlife showed, not even as weeds.
It was daunting. He said cheerily, "It seems we're the first here. Lawri, have you thought of a way to land this thing?"
"You have the helm."
He'd thought it through in detail. "I'm afraid our best move is to moor at the trunk and go down."
"Climb?"
"We did it before. Clave could lead most of us down while, say, Gavving and I wait. We'd have the carm for rescue operations. After the rest of you get down, Gavving and I can follow. We've climbed before—"
"Hold it," Clave said. "This is taking too treefeeding long. Grad, quit fooling around and just land in the treemouth."
"We might set it on fire!"
"Then we try again with another tree!"
Lawri had gone berserk at the suggestion of landing in the treemouth of London Tree. Now she just rubbed her eyes. Tired.
They were all too tired. They'd had enough of shocks and strangeness. Clave was right, delay would be torment, and there were trees to waste.
There was no kind of landing site in that wilderness. Everything he saw was green; there was no drought here. Would it burn?
He went in over the treemouth and rammed the carm into the foliage hard enough to stick. Still shaken by the impact, they forced their way through the doors, fast, and flailed with ponchos at the smoldering fires until they went out.
Then, finally, they had time to look around.
Minya stood panting, grinning, her black hair wild and wet, the blackened poncho trailing from hen hand. She snatched at his hand and cried, "Copter plants!"
Gavving laughed. "I didn't know you liked copter plants."
"I didn't either. But in London Tree they weeded out the copter plants and flowers and anything else they couldn't use." She tapped at one, two, three ripe plants, and the seed pods buzzed upward. Suddenly she was looking into his eyes, close. "We did it. Just like we planned, we found an unoccupied tree and it's ours."
"Six of us. Six out of Quinn Tuft…sorry."
"Twelve of us. More to come."
She had fought the fire with a predatory grace unhampered by the thickening around her hips. Mine, Gavving thought. Whether it looks like me or some copsik runner…or Harp, or Merrill Mine, ours.
He'd tell her when the mood was right. But that was too serious for now. "Okay, everything you see is ours. What shall we call it?"
"The thing I like best…I can say citizen and mean all of us. I'm no copsik and I'm not a triune. Citizens' Tree?"
The foliage tasted like Quinn Tuft in the Grad's childhood, before the drought. He lay on his back in virgin foliage and sucked contemplatively.
He became aware that Lawri was watching him from the dappled shadows. She looked cold, or just twitchy, hugging her elbows, cringing as if from a blow. He snapped, "Can't you relax? Eat some foliage."
"I did. It's good," she said without inflection.
It was irritating. "All right, what's got you worried? Nobody's ever going to call you a copsik runner. You saved our lives and everyone knows it. You're clean, fed, rested, safe, and admired. Take a break, Scientist. It's over."
Now she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Jeffer, how does this sound? There are only two London Tree citizens for at least ten thousand kiometers around. Doesn't it stand to reason that we'd…get along best together?"
He sat back on his haunches. Why ask him? "I suppose it does."
"Well, Mark thinks so too."
"Okay."
"He didn't have to say so. We talked a little about building huts, that's all, but he looks at me like he knows. Like, he's too polite to broach the subject yet, but where else can I go, who else is there? Jeffer, don't make me marry a dwarf!"
"Uh…huh."
She turned, convulsively, to see his face. He held up a hand to stop her from speaking. "In principle, two Scientists ought to make good mates too. Does that make sense? But you watched me murder Klance. I didn't warn him. I didn't make any speeches about copsiks and freedom and war and justice. I just killed him the first good chance I got. I'd have killed you too to get us free of that place."
She didn't nod, she didn't speak.
"You could put a harpoon in my belly while I'm sleeping. So don't push me. I have to think."
She waited. He thought. Now he knew why she irritated him with her twitchy unhappiness. He was guilty, and she had seen it. Not quite what one wanted in a mate!
Did he want a wife? He'd always thought he did, and with seven women and five men in Nameless Tuft…no chance for an unmarried man to play around in such a tiny population, but he should have his choice of wives. So who?
Gavving and Minya: married. Clave, Jayan, Jinny: a unit, and the twins seemed to like it that way. Anthon, Debby, Ilsa might all have left mates in Carther States, and they might all be looking around…but Anthon didn't seem to think so, and even if Debby or Ilsa were available…a romp might be fun, but they looked so odd. Which left Lawri.
He said, being nearly sure he could get away with it, "Lawri, will you forgive me for murdering Klance?"
"I notice you said murder. Not kill."
"I'm not even claiming it was war. I know what he was to you. Lawri, I demand this."
She turned her back and wept. The Grad did not turn his back. He'd virtually invited her to try to kill him. Now or never, Lawri! You can add too. There's me or there's Mark or there's nobody. I might be giving Mark another reason to kill me. Do I want to risk that?
She turned around. "I forgive you for murdering Klance."
"Then let's go to the carm and register a marriage. We'll pick up witnesses along the way."
Clave looked down into the treemouth. "I see rocks down there. Good. We'll have to collect them for a cookflre. Cook Gavving's waterbirds. Tear out some foliage so we'll have room. Where do we want the Commons?"
He didn't see many of his citizens in earshot, and none were listening. He raised his voice. "Treefodder, we have to get organized! A reservoir. Tunnels. Huts. Pens. Maybe we won't find turkeys, but we're bound to find something. Maybe dumbos. We need everything. Sooner or later we want elevators to the midpoint so we can moor the carm there. But for now—"
Anthon, flat on his back in the foliage with a long, long woman in each arm, bellowed, "Claaave! Feed it to the treeee!"
Gave grinned at Anthon. He did seem to represent the majority opinion. "Take a break, citizens. We're home."
For good or ill, they were alive and safe, two-thirds of the distance from Goldblatt's World to the congestion of masses and life forms around the L4 point; and they would remember Kendy.
He had promised a treasure of knowledge. A pity he hadn't had time to give them more of a foretaste; but they must have experienced exactly what he'd predicted during reentry, given that they'd survived. A savage's gods were omniscient, weren't they? Or were they gullible, easily manipulated? Kendy's memory had been pruned of such data.
Whatever: the legen
d would spread.
I can show you how to link your little tribes into one great State.
He had altered the progrpmming in the CARM. The CARM would watch their behavior and record everything. Before the children of the State came again to Kendy, he would know them.
He would know one tiny enclave within that vast cloud. The Smoke Ring was roomy enough for endless variety. 10^3 cubic kilometers of breathable atmosphere was about thirty times the volume of the Earth! Kendy wished for a thousand CARMs, ten thousand. What were they doing in there?
Never mind. Sooner or later there would come a man eager to carve out an empire, determined enough to take the CARM, crazy enough to trust his life to the ancient, leaky service vehicle. Kendy would know how to use him. Such men had helped to shape the State on Earth. They would again, in this strange environment.
Kendy waited.
Dramatis Personae
Discipline
SHARLS DAVIS KENDY Once a Checker for the State, now deceased. Also, the recordings of Sharls Davis Kendy's personality in the master computer of the seeder ramship Discipline and its service spacecraft.
Quinn Tuft
GAVVING A young warrior subject to allergies.
HARP The teller, or bard.
LAYTHON The Chairman's son.
MARTAL Quinn Tuft's cook (deceased).
THE SCIENTIST Quinn Tuft's guardian of knowledge.
THE GRAD The Scientist's half-trained apprentice.
THE CHAIRMAN Ruler of Quinn Tribe.
CLAVE A mighty warrior, the Chairman's son-in-law.
MAYRIN Clave's wife, the Chairman's daughter.
JAYAN and JINNY Twin sisters enamored of Gave.
MERRIL An older woman, strong, but barren. Small, withered legs.
JIOVAN A hunter.
GLORY A woman of unwanted fame.
ALFIN An older man, Keeper of the treemouth.
Others
MINYA A fighting woman of the Truine Squad, of Dalton-Quinn Tuft
SAL, SMITTA, JEEL, THANYA, DENISSE Others of the Triune Squad.
KARA Sharman (or Scientist) of Carther States.
DEBBIE, ILSA, HILD, LIZETH, ANTHON Citizens of Carther States.
KLANCE London Tree's Scientist.
LAWRI London Tree's Scientist's Apprentice.
HORSE, JORG, HELN, GWEN Copsiks in London Tree.
DLORIS, HARYET, KOR Supervisors in London Tree.
KARAL, MARK, PATRY London Tree Navy men.
Glossary
BLUE GHOST and GHOST CHILD-Auroralike glow patches produced by magnetic effects above Levoy's Star's poles. Rarely visible.
BRANCH-One at each end of an integral tree, curving to leeward.
BRANCHLETS-Grow from the spine branches and sprout into foliage
CARM-Cargo And Repair Module. Discipline originally carried ten of these.
THE CLUMPS-The L4 and L5 points for Gold. They tend to collect debris.
COPSIK-Slave. Used as a general insult.
COPSIK-RUNNER-Slavetaker or slavemaster.
COTTON-CANDY JUNGLE or JUNGLES-Describes almost any large cluster of plants. A good many plants and clusters of plants look like fluffy green cotton candy. Many are edible.
DAY-One orbit about Levoy's Star, the neutron star (equals two hours for Dalton-Quinn Tree).
DUMBO-A predator of the integral trees.
FAN FUNGUS-An integral tree parasite. Parts are edible
"FEED THE TREE" — Defecate, or move garbage, or die.
FLASHER-An insectivorous bird.
GHOST CHILD-See BLUE GHOST.
GO FOR GOLD-Rush headlong into diaster. Or battle!
GOLD-See GOLDBLAITS WORLD. Secondary meaning: something to avoid.
GOLDBLATPS WORLD-A gas giant planet captured after Levoy's Star went supernova/neutron. Named for Discipline's Astrophysicist, Sam Goldblatt.
HUTS-Any dwelling. In the integral trees, huts are woven from living spine branches.
INTEGRAL TREE-A crucial plant.
JET POD-Some plants grow pods that may be carried for attitude control: they jet gases (of corruption, or of oxygen in plants that favor the outer fringes of the Smoke Ring). Other plants fire seeds when dying, or going to seed, or falling too far out of the Smoke Ring. There are tropisms.
LEVOY'S STAR-A neutron star, the heart of the Smoke Ring system. Named for its discoverer, Sharon Levoy, Astrogator assigned to Discipline.
NOSE-ARM-See DUMBO.
OLD-MAN'S-HAIR-A fungus parasite on integral trees.
POND-Any large globule of water.
PRIKAZYVAT-Originally, Russian for "command." Presently used to activate computer programs.
QUINN TUFT-The in tuft (or point nearest Levoy's Star) of Dalton-Quinn Tree.
THE SCIENTIST-Quinn Tuft's guardian of knowledge. Tribes elsewhere use the same term.
SPINE BRANCHES-Grow from the branch of an integral tree.
SUN-A G0 star orbits the neutron star at 2.5 X 10' kilometers, supplying the sunlight that feeds the Smoke Ring's water-oxygen-DNA ecology.
TREEFODDER-Used as a curse. Treefodder is anything that might feed the tree: excrement, or garbage, or a corpse.
TUYRBERRIES-Fruiting bodies growing in the tuft of an integral tree. They fruit and scatter seed only at the tuft closest to the Smoke Ring median.
VOY-See LEVOY'S STAR.
YEAR-Half of a complete circuit of the sun around Levoy's Star, equal to 1.3 Earth years.
Directions
OUT-Away from Levoy's Star.
IN-Toward Levoy's Star.
EAST-In the orbital direction of the gas torus.
WEST-Against the orbital direction of the gas torus. The way the sun moves.
WINDWARD-Into the wind.
LEEWARD-The direction toward which the wind blows.
PORT-To the left if your head is out and you're facing west, or if your head is in and you're facing east, and so forth. Direction of the Ghost Child.
STARBOARD-Opposite port. Toward the Blue Ghost.
DOWN and UP-Usually applied only where tides or thrust operate. The general rule as known to all tribes is "East takes you out. Out takes you west. West takes you in. In takes you east. Port and starboard bring you back." Even those tribes who no longer can maneuver within the Smoke Ring know the saying.
About the Author
Larry Niven was born on April 30, 1938, in Los Angeles, California. In 1956, he entered the California Institute of Technology, only to flunk out a year and a half later after discovering a bookstore jammed with used science-fiction magazines. He graduated with a B.A. in mathematics (minor in psychology) from Washburn University, Kansas, in 1962, and completed one year of graduate work in mathematics at UCLA before dropping out to write. His first published story, "The Coldest Place," appeared in the December 1964 issue of Worlds of If.
Larry Niven's interests include backpacking with the Boy Scouts, science-fiction conventions, supporting the conquest of space, and AAAS meetings and other gatherings of people at the cutting edge of the sciences.
He won the Hugo Award for Best Short Story in 1966 for "Neutron Star," and in 1974 for "The Hole Man." The 1975 Hugo Award for Best Novelette was given to "The Borderland of Sol." His novel Ringworld won the 1970 Hugo Award for Best Novel, the 1970 Nebula Award for Best Novel, and the 1972 Ditmars, an Australian award for Best International Science Fiction.
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