by Larry Niven
“I see you found one of our mirror modules,” the alien said. “We brought them here early, before your verdict allows us to act. We must test them, yes? But it will be thought premature.”
“It might at that,” she said. Here it was. She tapped DON’T TOUCH.
The screen printed, You have chosen to deny the mission which you were sent to investigate. VERIFY?
Eric bellowed, “Make a decision! The big ship is coming down our throats with two heavy lifters!”
“Your arrogance,” Althared said, “your presumption, your hubris. How dare you presume to judge us? If you send that message, you must die.”
“I was selected,” she said. She hit VERIFY, then SEND.
Althared must have seen. He screamed something fluid, then, “Betrayer! Why would you harm us?”
The message was delivered, the flyers would have justice. Kimber spared a few seconds to send Althared her video of the frieze on the cave ceiling. Flyers and a Thray spacecraft. I did it for them.
Eric called, “Kimber?
There was nothing more to do here, and suddenly she really wanted to be with Eric. She pulled herself up into the flight deck, and froze.
There in the Shuttle windows, Thembrlish loomed huge; but Trine was the whole sky. The Thray ship was pacing them as they fell.
Kimber got her breath back. She moved forward, touched Eric’s shoulder. Althared was on-screen here too, left profile and a breathing problem. She ignored him. She asked Eric, “How long?”
Eric said, “Oh, twenty minutes, thirty…I don’t know. Long enough. This ship can’t do a reentry, Kimber. No ship reenters straight down.”
The Thray ship veered sideways and was gone. Kimber saw thrust distort Althared’s features. She said, “Althared, give us back our drive.” Worth a try, she thought.
The alien was wheezing…sobbing? “I cannot. I do not captain Thembrlish. Your death is ordained. You will fall.”
Thump.
Eric said, “What—?”
“It came from below. I’ll go look.” She kicked herself aft.
Thump.
She got her head and shoulders into position in time to see the well in the Verification Link spit out a silver medicine ball. The ball thumped against the hull, unfolded into a Pillbug, kicked and wriggled and bounced back at the Verification Link. Two more were already in place, clinging to the filigree along two edges. The third joined them. Its myriad feet slid into tiny holes in the filigree border. A fourth silver ball emerged, hit the hull (thump), unfolded and aligned itself along the fourth edge. Four Pillbugs were joined nose to tail.
The VL spoke in the same translator’s voice that had been Althared’s. “We come to seek explanation for your verdict—”
The voice stopped. Then small machines began popping through the BH (Big Hole). Three Pillbugs peeled loose to lock components together into a blocky toroid.
Kimber crawled down, hoping to see better. One Pillbug came to look her over. She tried to find its eyes.
The floor surged up.
Kimber found her footing as Eric called, “Yow! Kimber, I’ve got thrust. Ump?” The thrust was still rising. Kimber tried to kneel, but it was too strong. The floor hit her hard.
She saw the Pillbugs crawling up the wall, back into place around the VL. They seemed to be talking to Althared; at least there was a humming warble, and Althared was answering in no human language.
She couldn’t reach a window. Two or three times Earth’s gravity had her nailed to the floor. She felt the resonance and heard the roar as Star Surveyor II plunged into Trine’s atmosphere.
She heard and felt the roar die away.
Then four Pillbugs crawled into the BH and were gone.
“Here, take these pills too. Is that any better?”
Kimber drank, swallowed, drank. She said, “Go easy on the neck.”
Her left eye hurt. She couldn’t open it. Her chin rested on a collar of rubber foam. Eric was wrapping gauze around her head and eye. “Nice shiner, Chief Surveyor. I can’t tell if your neck’s broken,” he said, “so wear the neck brace. Nobody can do anything about a cracked rib, though. We’ll be home about as fast as we came, and then someone qualified can look you over.”
“Next question. Pillbugs,” she said.
“I never even saw them, and you didn’t use the camera.”
“I was busy being crushed!”
He shrugged it off. “Do you think those were the Overlords?”
“They don’t talk well. Eric, a Pillbug is too small to have anything like a human brain. They’d have to be components of an intelligence. I saw them link up head to tail. Communication must be built in, right?”
His face went slack as he thought it through. “Hardwired, nerve to nerve.”
“There’s nothing in their evolution for just talking, not to each other, certainly not to us.”
“We can’t even ask them if they’re servants of something bigger.”
“Eric? They’ve got the VL. Instantaneous communication. With that you could link up the entire species at once! An arbitrarily complex brain. Sure they could be the Overlords.”
“I think I bent my brain,” Eric said.
“Where’s Thembrlish?”
“The Thray? They left at two gee. They’ve already done the Shift Trick. There’s no way to run far enough, I expect, but they’re giving it a try. Damn, you were right. They just can’t reach out and kill.”
“Doesn’t cramp their style.”
“Oh, hey, I looked in the Institute records. Kimber, our credentials have been upgraded by a lot.”
She smiled. “Pillbugs to the rescue.”
“Only after we made our decision.”
Kimber smiled weakly at the word “we.” Her ribs hurt sharply, but that was fading. She said, “I wish they’d left us some magic bandages.”
“You wouldn’t want an alien doctor, Kimber. Nobody wants to make medical history.”
“Vee vill perform an exshperiment upon this…creature…” She was woozy. “In a minute I’m going to be no fun anymore.”
“That’s the pills. I’m going to drop back to half a gee so you can sleep.”
“’Night.”
“’Night.”
Discussion with Brenda Cooper Re: “Ice and Mirrors”
What follows is email that passed between me and Brenda Cooper while we were working on “Trine’s Flyers,” the short story that became “Ice and Mirrors.” I’ve included it as instructions on how to write a story using a computer link.
While we worked on this, Brenda was also active as a councilwoman and a computer jock. She worked on minimizing the effects of the Y2k bug. We were also working on “Rogue Backup,” the short story that became “Finding Myself.” You’ll find here references to all of these activities, and to novels I was working on at the time.
The “Ice and Mirrors” Papers
Subj: Me
Date: 12/3/99
Hi! This is generic; I apologize. I like to think of myself as a good correspondent, but maybe not.
Here’s how my life is running:
The winds are back. Howling in the chimney, blowing vegetation around, scaring the fish…but not smashing glass tables. We took ours to safety some weeks ago.
I spent ten days up north: three at Orycon, the next seven in Steve Barnes’s vicinity. I thought we’d have more work for SATURN’S RACE, but our editor was already happy. I saw some fixes and made them in around four hours; Steve took his pass and smoothed them over.
I stayed because Steve had a working party planned: show up and criticize his concept for an alternate timeline. Most of us had something to say. IMSH’ALLAH is probably Steve’s magnum opus. (Became Lion’s Blood.)
Steve was busy. I talked writing a lot with one Brenda Cooper…her writing. She’s unpublished, but she’s good. She’s my next collaborator, if things work out. Yes, I’m violating a rule I laid out myself in “Collaboration.” Thanks for pointing that out, but look at it
:
She’s the one taking the risks. A collaboration is around 160% as much work as a solo flight, but she’s doing her 80% first. Our first flight is a short story she’s already drafted. (There are three, I think. What she can fix just from our conversations, won’t become a collaboration. Giving up half the money shouldn’t be done lightly.) We won’t burn up my time this way, if it’s a mistake. The biggest story, carved from scratch while we walked, may become a novelet or a novel.
Got home Sunday. A reading copy of THE BURNING CITY (due in March) was waiting, complete with cover. I turned with it in my hand…forgot a wastebasket, tripped. The throw rug slid. I dropped. Bad bruising, two ribs out of place…but not cracked. Michele Coleman put them back where they belonged (days later, when the bruising had eased off), and made me get an Xray. I’m tired of being injured at LosCon. Every damn Thanksgiving. Last year it was the flu. In ’93 I was six weeks out of abdominal surgery.
Today, 12 days after the fall, it’s almost healed. It never did incapacitate me. I was able to hike and swim…
Swim! My swimming pool is finished! It’s deep enough that I don’t scratch my toenails! That’s five feet at its deepest. I’m not unreasonable; I don’t need the fear of drowning to spice up my life, and I didn’t need to buy extra depth. But the guy who built this pool (and house) was crazy.
At the beginning of September I logged onto a website dedicated to discussing my works. For awhile I was getting four or five emails a day. I took a lot of notes for a possible fourth Ringworld novel. The flow has eased off now. I’m glad. As for whether they generated a book, time will tell.
And how are you?
Subj: Re: Discussion Notes
Date: 12/1/99
In a message dated 11/30/99 10:54:49 PM Pacific Standard Time, Brenda Cooper writes:
Subj: Re: Discussion Notes
Date: 11/30/99 10:54:49 PM Pacific Standard Time
Our notes, revised as of Thanksgiving or so, are attached.
Larry
Wow! I digested your return on the notes on the plane back. Good insights on communication. The themes make sense. I like the Forward Thrust Systems, the basic situation set-up. And more time talking story will be great. It’s usually easy to get me to work.
My understanding of the next step is I take what you sent me, organize it, and outline a story around it. That means characters and events fleshed out, but still in outline format. Could be long. If you keep working on parts, send them as you feel ready and I’ll incorporate into working document. Your choice, of course. I may have questions to send you from time to time, and look forward to playing with this. It’s like a good yoga stretch. If you want what I have so far at any point, say so. Otherwise I guess I’ll send it next time I need feedback.
BC
Good plan,
LN
I did read A Deepness in the Sky—will re-read as he is dealing with time frames like ours and cold sleep. And yeah, I know I’m not honed enough for anything that ambitious yet. I suspect he’s been writing longer than I have (*grin*). But I can learn from him.
BC
Vemor’s been writing as long as I have (roughly.)
LN
I sent you Dreaming Alioth. We agreed that one wasn’t really a collaboration, and that you did help. If it sells, and I get a chance to thank you, I will. I will keep doing my own stuff—it’s a way to tell what I’m learning from you and keep developing my own voice. Keeps my eggs in more than one basket. Yes, I’m sure you could improve the story. For now, don’t worry with it. I think it works OK. The test is what editors think. If I get more rejections, I get to finish the wallpaper job.
In the meantime, I am working on the story that started out as Magnetic Lies. That’s the one where you solved the problem of the frozen world. I’ll send it to you when I’m pretty confident it works—my goal will be that you can do one rewrite through and have it ready/perfect. This is an intermediate step, a fairly simple first collaboration. Expect something in a week or two.
BC
Okay.
LN
Next, the one that got a LOT longer when we talked about it—the Rogue Backup story set in the virtual world. Same idea. Will take longer. I have to finish saving Longview from Y2K.
BC
As regards “Rogue Backup,” what I saw most of were problems. If you solve them on your own, then that’s a solo flight…and if I see something good enough, I won’t claim a collaboration.
LN
In either case, put your name on ’em if and when you’re happy. Question—short stories you collaborate on go through your agent?
BC
Yes, through Eleanor Wood, but I’d better ask her, or at least alert her.
LN
Got your letter and notes on collaboration. Good notes. You own the veto. Yes, you could be a fool to work with an amateur. I admit to not being a hundred percent sure why you’re doing it, but I’m glad you are. Instinct says this might work. I don’t see any way I can lose—the lessons and work can’t hurt me. If I work hard enough to make it a win/win, the win for me saves me years. I need those years. And no matter what, we have some good conversations. The only way we can lose is if we lose something from our friendship. Any way I can help you, tell me.
BC
I saw the problems. I decided it was worth the risk.
LN
Take care. I’ll send you the current story when it’s done.
—Brenda
stet.
—Larry
Subj: L1
Date: 12/1/99
I’ve just learned (coincidence) that the L1 point is indeed the gravitationally metastable point between Earth and Sun (or between Moon and Earth, for that matter.) Yesterday I was guessing.
In Sol system, the L1 (or first Lagrange) point is 1,500,000 kilometers inward from Earth. Earth’s pull counteracts the Sun’s by a little bit, so whatever you put there can do a little slower in its orbit than Earth does. Covering a slightly smaller circle, it still orbits in an Earth year. (And it’s metastable because if you leave something in there and then nudge it a little, it falls out. Only the L4 and L5 points are stable.)
Larry
Subj: Re: Story Attached
Date: 12/4/99
I’m in.
Something has popped up in the literature since I read your first draft of “Trine’s Flyers”. (That, by the way, is the proper way to write the title of a short story. You probably knew that already, from Steve.)
The Earth has been frozen from pole to pole, right across the equator, twice at least.
What I just said is not certain. That is, its proponents are certain; they’ve found what they believe is clear evidence; but the rest of the scientific community will have to decide. But we can use it, and with “Trine’s Flyers” half written, we’ll be first in print!
There are other matters I can improve.
Keenan may be in a snit, but—being who he is—he can hardly resist lecturing. Walker can use that. I’ll use the “Frozen Earth” scenario.
“I went looking in other libraries”—duh? What kind of communications has this guy got? But then I rethought. An instant link would allow him to accuse the Thray before Althared can react. And he’s got a defense:
“Show your toy (the mirrors.) We began preparation to warm this world early. It is a minor offense.”
I rethought the matter of the L1 point. It’s both right and wrong. Putting the black (not mirror) barriers there wouldn’t work: they’re still absorbing photons, and will be kicked out. Put ’em closer. But when they’re discarded…a few will end up in the L1 point!
A thing that needs saying:
A woman, an established writer whom I’d met twice at OutsideCons in Kentucky, phoned me at home one evening. She had a proposition. “I’ll write a book. We’ll put your name on it with mine. You get half the money.”
I don’t expect to speak to her again.
Because you’re going to do most of your work f
irst, and I’ll do most of mine after, I have to be careful deciding if I can contribute. I won’t ever jump into a story as collaborator if I can tell you how to fix it and stand back.
As for the rest, this looks like a couple of weeks’ work. That doesn’t mean you’ll see it in two weeks…but then, you knew that.
Larry
In a message dated 12/3/99 11:04:01 PM Pacific Standard Time,
<
Please feel free to do what you want with it, or nothing if it’s not to your standards yet. Areas I think it may need help in are: Ships’ details—what they fly isn’t very important to the story, but I’m over my head when trying to make it realistic, so I just didn’t mess with stuff I didn’t know. I’m assuming FTL for the story’s sake and pretty instant communication between them and the Institute at the end (although that can be changed if they get out of it some other way). The FTL can maybe be ignored, but the communication maybe can’t be. Do they need to get all the way away to end the story? Or is it OK to end it where I do?
What would make their relationship clearer/richer/less flat? Or is it defined enough?
Subj: Re: Technique
Date: 12/6/99
I’m having fun.
As I see it, a water world HAS to be easier to make habitable than a frozen world. One takes…at least a huge heat input; maybe an altered atmosphere. The other takes an arbitrarily large raft.
New basic assumptions: Humans are junior members. The top of the interstellar hierarchy is unseen. The Thray follow the law…maybe (at first) because they’re good guys, or maybe (it will appear) they’re afraid.
