by Larry Niven
Hours passed. The Fringe War made no further test of Needle's defenses. When the sun was only a bright point and the Ringworld was barely more than that, Tunesmith asked, "Hindmost, can you perceive hyperspace directly?"
"Yes."
"I can't. But if you can't fly for terror, I must fly Needle"
The puppeteer uncoiled. He took Needle's controls. "Where shall I fly?"
"Take us ten light-minutes outward from Diplomat's last position."
Human beings can't look into the Blind Spot. Most would go mad. Some can use a mass pointer to steer through hyperspace and keep their sanity too. Some Kzinti can perceive hyperspace directly; their female kin have mated into the family of the Patriarch for half a thousand years.
This time there was nothing. Not darkness, not featureless gray, not even the memory of sight. Louis fumbled until he could opaque the hull in crew quarters.
Acolyte said, "I don't know enough to ask intelligent questions, Louis."
"We're okay. I understand this. This is hyperdrive the way I'm used to seeing it. We're outside the... borderline," Louis said. "Even if I have to unlearn everything I know."
All his life he'd thought in terms of a mathematical singularity. In such a system, the realm of heavy masses--suns and planets--would be undefined in hyperspace. Ships couldn't go there.
"What we're doing is a standard maneuver. We have a velocity, right? We were flung up from the Ringworld, toward the sun and past it and outward. We still have that huge velocity, straight out from the sun.
"But the Hindmost is taking us halfway around the system in hyperdrive. When he comes out, we'll have the same velocity we started with, but pointed back toward the sun and the Ringworld."
"We're out," the Hindmost said. They were in black space with one overbright star. They'd been in hyperdrive about five minutes.
The Hindmost said, "The Fringe War doesn't normally reach this far out. We're safe for the moment. Our velocity vector is inward, toward Diplomat. We should act within ten minutes, before Diplomat can see our neutrino wake and Cherenkov radiation."
"Get me a view," Tunesmith ordered.
Ten light-minutes is further than the distance between Earth and Sol. The virtual window popped up, and zoomed, and wiggled a loose-packed comet out of the starscape, and zoomed...
A lens of steel and glass was the Kzinti command ship Diplomat emerging from its cometary nest.
That larger sphere just popping into view was Long Shot, close and closing.
Tunesmith barely glanced at the view. "They'll be a few minutes matching. We have time. Hindmost, show us what we recorded in this last hyperdrive jump."
The hypercamera's record was blank. Louis snickered.
Tunesmith reproved him. "Louis, there's nothing to see. We're outside the envelope of dark matter that collects around our star. Where there almost isn't any dark matter, there almost isn't space either! This is why we can travel faster than light does in vacuum, because distance in this domain is drastically contracted.
"Now I need only learn why there is more than one characteristic velocity. I'll get that by studying Long Shot. Hindmost, take us in range of Diplomat."
"Two fighting ships guard the near side of the comet."
"I see them. Use hyperdrive. We'll beat our own light."
The Blind Spot flashed for only an instant.
Their target was still too far away to see, but the virtual window nailed it: a loose dark fluffy comet, icy puffball satellites drifting around it, and four ships, two linked. Tunesmith's knotty hands danced. Needle surged: the cabin gravity motors were whining again. The larger ships, Diplomat and Long Shot locked together at the airlocks, were coming up fast. Slowing. Slowing.
"I'm taking the controls," Tunesmith said.
Diplomat fired lasers: crew quarters went black.
The virtual window was looking at something other than light. A flock of dim points was coming at them. Needle didn't have rocket motors; Tunesmith was using only the sluggish thrusters. Now the virtual window disappeared, and the hull was slapped sideways, then backward.
Louis just had time to realize that they were mated. Then Needle's cabin gravity surged uneasily while the generators whined. Three ships, locked together, tried to turn round their common center of mass.
Diplomat ripped loose, tumbling, dwindling.
Hot Needle of Inquiry was using full thrust to push Long Shot. Needle's overbuilt thrusters against Long Shot's sizeable mass would give, what, around ten gravities? And Long Shot hadn't had cabin gravity when Louis flew it. In all that packed space there hadn't been room for extra machinery, or so he had assumed. Ten gravities would flatten any Kzinti aboard, knock them out or kill them.
Diplomat, the Kzinti command ship, fired a cloud of missiles, then disappeared in a black-cored fireball.
The missiles twinkled. Tunesmith was exercising his marksmanship. The warrior ships didn't fire--for fear of harming Long Shot? Tunesmith exploded the ship that tried to take up escort. The other fell behind.
A ship carrying antimatter is very vulnerable, Louis thought. Was that reassuring, or just scary?
Needle's, thrust died. Tunesmith was out of his seat shouting, "Lander bay!" He reached a stepping disk and was gone.
Acolyte followed before Louis could quite get moving. The wall had become a window again, and Long Shot was a planet jammed against Needle's, hull, with the cabin right up against Needle's, new airlock, the view blocked by bronze "glue". Louis was out of his web, weapon in hand, running for the stepping disk. He saw Tunesmith race through the hangar, dive into the airlock, look, open the second door, leap, with Acolyte right behind. Then Louis flicked into the hangar.
He was ten feet behind Acolyte, moving at a dead run, leaning forward because he was about to enter free fall, a laser weapon in one hand. Pirate! he thought, elated, expecting no real resistance.
But light sputtered where Tunesmith disappeared. Acolyte stopped suddenly, then leapt out of sight.
In free fall now, Louis dug his feet into the wall and jumped behind his extended weapon.
Generated gravity slammed him to the floor.
That was confusing, if he'd had time to think about it. Long Shot hadn't had gravity generators.
Long Shot's life support system was only the pilot's cramped cabin and a cramped sleep-and-rec room above it, now occupied by Tunesmith and three Kzinti. Two Kzinti were sprawled in pools of orange blood, chopped and seared and dead. A third was fluffed out like a yellow-and-black cloud with teeth. Louis held his aim on that one until he was sure it was Acolyte.
Tunesmith's voice spoke in Louis's helmet. "Time presses. Louis, take your place as pilot. Acolyte, return to Needle. Hindmost, go with him. You have your instructions."
Louis wriggled past Acolyte and took the pilot's chair.
Acolyte pushed the dead Patriarchy warriors into the recreation space. He sprang toward the airlock. The puppeteer had gone ahead of him.
Tunesmith's communicator voice followed them. "Hindmost, what does it mean if we found cabin gravity aboard Long Shot?"
Silence.
"Hindmost!"
The puppeteer was reluctant, but he spoke. "It suggests that the Patriarchy has solved some of our secrets. Some of what we packed Long Shot with was data-collecting instruments. Some was mere misdirection. The Patriarch's science team must have learned how much superfluous space is there. They've used it to install a cabin gravity generator and who knows what else. What would human or Kzinti warriors do with so fast a ship if they knew there was extra space for thrusters, fighter ships, and weapons? Tunesmith, if you can't imagine that, ask Louis."
"Louis?"
"Just be glad this ship is ours again,
" Louis said. He studied Long Shot's control system. A crude second control panel had been set beside the first. All the indicators had been reworked in Kzinti dots-and-commas.
Gravity rolled uneasily. They were in motion, and Long Shot's cabin gravity generator wasn't happy with the unbalanced configuration.
Tunesmith was behind Louis's shoulder, his jaw against Louis's neck. "Can you fly it?"
"Yah," Louis said. "I may have to close my eyes--"
"Do you read the Heroes' Tongue?"
"No."
"I do. Make room. Join your companions aboard Needle."
"I can fly Long Shot. I remember the controls."
"They've been changed. Go!"
"Can you fly this ship?"
"I must try. Go."
When Louis entered Needle's hangar, Acolyte was already gone.
Louis took a moment to contain his fury. Typical of a protector, to bet his own life and everybody else's on his own not-yet-formed abilities, on nebulous theories, on risks Louis wouldn't have taken even in his teens and twenties. But that wasn't enough. He'd bet Louis Wu's life because he might need him... and now he didn't. What the futz, just another gamble that hadn't paid off.
Inhale through the nose, hold it, flatten that abdomen, exhale... it felt remarkably good to be back in his teens and twenties. Lovely if he could live through it.
Needle lurched and separated from Long Shot.
Louis found the hidden stepping disk and flicked to crew quarters. Acolyte was there. The Hindmost was on the flight deck, his back to them. He said, "We must make our way separately. Louis, Acolyte, strap down."
Acolyte said, "I was to be copilot."
"Plans change," the Hindmost said without turning around.
Louis didn't even wonder how the Hindmost had gained control of the bronze "glue" that linked the hulls. Tunesmith didn't hesitate either. From Long Shot he said, "As you will, Hindmost. Your enemies in this part of space include every ARM and Patriarchy ship and very likely all strangers. I've sheathed Needle's hull in scrith, giving two layers of defense, but antimatter is still a danger. Make your way to the Map of Mars as best you can."
The Hindmost didn't answer. Hot Needle of Inquiry turned toward interstellar space.
Chapter 7 -
End Run
Acolyte asked, "Louis, are we pointed the wrong way?"
Four fusion rocket motors glowed blue on Long Shot, grown tiny now. The great ship didn't have much acceleration, and that was all fusion flame, conspicuous against a sky full of enemies.
Would the ARM, would the Patriarchy, try to destroy Long Shot? Not while there was a ghost of a hope of capturing it. The Quantum II hyperdrive was just too valuable, Louis thought. Unless another faction looked ready to make a capture. Then what?
How could the protector expect to hide the great ship? A mile in diameter... but that was tiny against the scale of deep space.
But none of Tunesmith's problems had any relevance to what the Hindmost was doing: turning toward interstellar space, toward his home.
Louis hadn't answered at once. Acolyte said, "My father often assumes that I know things I don't. He learned them too early. They must seem obvious. Spherical geometry, centrifugal force, seasons, the way light falls across a Ball World--"
"He's trying to escape," Louis said.
"Escape?"
The Hindmost was certainly able to listen, and Tunesmith might hear this too, but what did Louis have to hide? "The Hindmost has an intact spacecraft now," he said. "He sees the Ringworld as fragile. It makes him feel trapped. Now he's out. He'll run for the Fleet of Worlds... the Ball Worlds where the puppeteers live."
"Then I am kidnapped! Hindmost!"
The puppeteer didn't answer.
"I'm kidnapped too. Relax," Louis said. "We have time. This ship couldn't reach human space in less than two years. Even the Fleet of Worlds is months away. We've got time to think."
"Louis, what will you do when you finish teaching me patience?"
Louis smiled. "Mount you as a statue in your father's palace." It was their private joke.
So, the Fleet of Worlds might be the Hindmost's target. Then again, Fleet of Worlds politics had ousted him from the supreme position... years ago, but puppeteers thought in much greater time spans. The Hindmost might not be welcome among his own kind.
One could hope.
As for Louis Wu, the United Nations wanted him for holding proprietary knowledge... for the crime of knowing too much. The UN held great power among the worlds of human space. Still, they didn't rule everywhere. Their rule only included the Earth and Moon--and all targets which might threaten that domain.
The Hindmost had found Louis Wu on Canyon and snatched him away, some fifteen years ago. The local government or the ARM would have claimed his possessions there. His homes on Earth were forfeit. So. Where? There had to be a place of safety.
He hadn't really seen this day coming.
Louis said, "I'll have to be persuasive. Maybe I can get the Hindmost to drop us somewhere in human space. Then I'll find a way to get you home. I'll show you some of human space first. Could be fun."
"Why human space? Take us to the Patriarchy! Let me guide you."
Louis had been an interspecies hero, briefly, when they brought back Long Shot. He said, "I've been in the Patriarch's palace and hunting park. Have you?"
"Guide me then. Show me where my father grew up."
"I'm afraid to go there. I could show you recordings I made, if I could get to Earth or Canyon... but even that's too risky." Even in a daydream, the ARM would have claimed his possessions. "But I could read up on the Fringe War before we come back here. Tunesmith doesn't know enough. Maybe nobody does. It'll be like the War of the Roses, or the Vietnam War, or Avenge Mecca: it could last forever. Nobody knows how to turn off a war."
"Stet, take me to human space. Will they grant me my place, my rights?"
Louis laughed. "No. Stick to Interspeak, the way Chmeee and I taught it to you. We'll claim you're from Sheathclaws or Fafnir, grown up in a Kzin-and-human community. They'd expect you to be a little strange. Tanj, why haven't we moved? Hindmost!"
Long Shot was lost in starscape and sunglare, and Needle wasn't doing anything at all.
Louis shouted, "Do something, Hindmost!"
The puppeteer squawked. Then, tonelessly, "Louis. Acolyte. The carrion eater has disabled my hyperdrive motor."
Louis had nothing to say.
The puppeteer said, "I could have circled in hyperspace to hide my point of return into Ringworld system! Now every telescope in the system will be watching while I try to reach safety. We'll be under fire for... two days as a most optimistic estimate. Tunesmith has much to answer for."
"You would have run," Louis said.
The puppeteer snorted an orchestral dischord. Needle swung about.
Clouds of missiles and a score of ships began drifting in from the comets an hour after the Hindmost started his run. They watched it all coming while Needle accelerated toward the sun.
The Hindmost remained on the flight deck. Acolyte and Louis were sealed in their own quarters. They talked of this, voices low, as if they couldn't be heard that way.
Louis watched the Fringe War coming.
The faster missiles weren't a danger. Nothing with high thrust would carry antimatter. You couldn't risk antimatter jarring against its containment. Some ships, particularly those elongated ARM ships, might carry antimatter bullets and a linear motor to fire them, but those ships would be slow, too slow to catch Needle.
Tracking Long Shot gave the invaders no problem at all. The mile-wide sphere was conspicuous and undefended.
On the s
econd day missiles began to arrive. Most of them gathered in a cloud around Long Shot.
Tunesmith had added a laser turret to Needle. The Hindmost shot down the few scores of missiles that sought Needle out. The sun grew large. Louis wondered if more ships waited in the inner system.
"Shouldn't we be making turnaround, Hindmost?"
"That's just what they'll be expecting," the puppeteer said.
Louis wondered what the puppeteer intended. Then, looking ahead, he knew.
How dangerous could it be? Puppeteers are cowards, right? Louis Wu couldn't show fear before a Kzin. Better if he could persuade himself that he was having fun. It's a ride!
But the Hindmost was more afraid of his pursuers than of what he was doing.
Louis took a moment to consider his words. Then, "Hindmost, everything new about Needle, even the hyperdrive, has been built or rebuilt by Tunesmith and never tested afterward. Do you still trust it all? Even the stasis field?"
"I must," the Hindmost said. "Out here I'm prey. Any creature with a telescope might have seen our attack on Long Shot. Are we a mere diversion? Will Tunesmith throw our lives away for misdirection? Louis, he is your kind more than mine!"
Being asked for his opinion of Tunesmith, Louis gave it. "Don't trust him. Take your best shot. Assume he reacts very fast."
"Even if we can reach the Ringworld, I'm still his prisoner," the Hindmost said. "But I will not accept that. I will not. I tire of being put at risk for purposes I don't understand."
"Tell me about it."
Hot Needle of Inquiry had picked up considerable velocity and was still accelerating as it passed the rim wall. As it did, ships lifted from the Ringworld's black underside. Then Needle was inside the Ringworld's arc in a glare of sunlight and a halo of thousands of tiny probes.
Louis heard a howl to melt bones and a rhythmic thudding sound, but he didn't walk around the kitchen wall to see. It was just Acolyte attacking a wall, getting some exercise.
The ship was jigging and jogging across the sky, but only the jittery starscape showed that. Needle had tremendous acceleration, but its cabin gravity was up to the challenge. Then again, so were the probes. Nothing was attacking Needle, but every species wanted to look.