The Man-Kzin Wars 11

by Larry Niven

  "Some geneticists have speculated," said Cumpston, "that the war has changed the kzinti. Killed off their most aggressive individuals, made the species less dangerous."

  "And some," said Guthlac, "have speculated that the war has changed them by killing off their most stupid and reckless individuals, and made the species more cunning and more dangerous."

  "I know. What do we believe?"

  "After sixty-six years of war, there must still be a place for optimism, for hope... for ideals. Otherwise we are indeed no better than animals."

  "Yes." Cumpstom raised his eyes to the window. "Does the sky look different to you."

  They both stared at it for a long time. "Yes. Or I think it will soon. Do you believe death is not going to fall out of it again?"

  "I'm trying to..." Cumpston said. "I hope our kzin friends here will be pleased... I mean our real kzin friends...Vaemar, Raargh, Karan... Big John."

  "You think of them first? You're a funny bird, Michael."

  "Vaemar's always been vulnerable to a certain stain: quisling, collaborator. Maybe that's gone now."

  "Vaemar was only a kitten when the kzin forces on Wunderland surrendered. A lost, orphaned kitten, when Rarrgh took him in. Should he have fought to the death against us with his milk-teeth? Anyway, even if there's now a cease-fire in space, I doubt it means the likes of Vaemar can come and go between here and the Patriarchy just like that."

  "Perhaps he can one day. Another thing I'm realizing: we don't have to use Baphomet."

  "No." Baphomet was something very new, which the two officers had been briefed on shortly before. It was an update of the old idea of a disrupter bomb. A complex carrier designed to penetrate deep into the crust of a suitable planet, and set off explosions which, it was calculated, could turn over a tectonic plate. It had been tried on a lifeless world orbiting Proxima Centauri and had worked. Had the target's geology been a little different, Proxima would have become a twin star sub-system.

  "Sorry, Arthur, I'm still trying to get my mind around it all. There's a lot to think about. It's going to take a while to digest. But your children, and Gale's, can maybe grow up in a better time."

  "Give me a chance to get some first!"

  "Me too, perhaps."

  They both laughed, and Guthlac poured celebratory drinks.

  * * *

  There had been a resumption of brief and cryptic messages from Chorth-Captain. He had established himself on Ka'ashi. He had discovered an arms depot, and a mighty ally. It was time to leap.

  Kzaargh-Commodore had broken his rule of maximum possible silence. He sent back interrogatories. The replies remained cryptic. Things were going better than expected. The ally was unexpected but potent. Attack!

  The kzinti had no allies. Other races were enemies, prey or slaves. It was inconceivable that the kzinti needed allies. Or rather, Kzaargh-commodore thought, struggling like so many kzinti to fathom an utterly new situation, it had been inconceivable that the kzinti needed allies. His crew trod softly for he was puzzled and angry. He had sent more interrogatories, but Chorth-Captain had fallen silent again.

  Fury, puzzlement, impatience... and hope. He had become capable of waiting no longer.

  There was a comet which he had marked out, a large and highly volatile one, plainly destined to a short life. Hiding as he might in its tail, he turned his ship and plunged back towards Ka'ashi.

  * * *

  A pod of dolphins broke surface in the car's flying shadow as the Ocean rolled away below. Dimity called them. The communicator was programmed to translate into Dolphin, and Dimity had picked up some of their concepts long ago.

  They exchanged pleasantries, but with difficulty. During the decades of war many dolphins had come to maturity in the oceans of Wunderland with little knowledge of the human partners who had brought them as fellow enthusiastic colonists across interstellar space. Cooperation was being rebuilt slowly, and though the humans of Earth had employed some dolphins in their war-fleets as strategists it was hard to know how much these Wunderland dolphins knew—or cared—of the kzinti or current events. Still, they were friendly to the human walkers, and asked if, like their fathers, they might trade for hands. Dimity recorded their identities.

  Little Southland was not very little. It was a detachment of Wunderland's southern continent, a knife-shaped triangle of land stabbing towards the South Pole, with a total area of 17,000 square miles, much of it cool to cold desert like Patagonia. With the temperate areas of Wunderland still empty or only sparsely settled, there was no need to cultivate it. There were some military installations and a few scientific ones.

  Its population of avianoids was its main macrobiological interest. Varieties of creatures with vast striking beaks resembling the diatrymas of Earth's Eocene roamed it, and there were some introduced Earth birds, too: The "banana belt" of the northern coastal regions had a climate not unlike the south of New Zealand and there were a few ranches for reconstituted and slightly modified moas, strongly fenced in and over to protect them from the savage and powerful locals.

  The car climbed. Vaemar and Dimity approached the land at about ten miles' height, searching with instruments.

  "There!" A fuzzy radiation signature, but one that matched the record in the brick. Dimity tracked an optical telescope in.

  "Nothing that shows on the surface," said Vaemar. "It would be hidden, of course."

  "Granite everywhere. Hot granite. That won't make following a radiation trail easier."

  They deployed a deep-radar scanner. A faint but unnatural grid of lines became visible. Vaemar grinned and his claws slid from their sheaths. "Prey," he said, and then: "We must give no cause for suspicion. Dimity, take over flying. If anyone contacts us, better that they see your face than mine."

  There were interrogatory signals coming in from the scientific and military stations on the ground, but the car answered them automatically with the University's code and signature. They descended. Vaemar and then Dimity could make out the movement of life-forms on the surface. They changed into lightweight combat/utility suits, Vaemar's leaving his claws free, and Dimity adding a helmet with breathing mask, and landed.

  Vaemar, followed by Dimity, stepped out into a landscape of grey, under a swirling grey sky, punctuated by rocks, and surrounded by rock walls and pillars, wind and rain-eroded into fantastic shapes reminiscent of dragons, sthondats and other great beasts of legend and fact. There was a thunderstorm dribbling lightning on the horizon. Distant hills were speckled with snow. Hardy, spiky vegetation grew about them. This was a cool wet plain, and days like this without high winds were rare. But life seemed reasonably abundant. Vaemar's eyes and the infrared detector in Dimity's face-mask found a number of small animals watching them from concealment, or in some cases burrowing frantically.

  Dimity saw what she thought at first was a man approaching them, although the motion was wrong. She activated the binoculars in her helmet and pointed to the biped. An avian, or an avianoid creature, high, with great legs, atrophied wings and a mighty striking head and beak, standing, they could see, higher than Vaemar. To Dimity it resembled a holo of a carnivorous Earth dinosaur. It was making a high-pitched scream.

  "Thunderbird," said Vaemar. "They must have good eyes. We have evidently invaded this one's territory." It was fast, and in Wunderland's gravity even those small wings could help it make great hops. Suddenly it was very close.

  Dimity brought up her rifle, but Vaemar was quicker, and he gestured to her to leave it to him. He waited a few moments more, then fired as the thing leapt again. Its huge head shattered and its body slid towards them in a kicking ruin.

  Almost on top of them, a second thunderbird erupted from concealment behind a rock wall. Vaemar's stride became a vertical leap. The thunderbird's huge hind-claws barely touched the ground, and it too leapt again, wings extended to show barbed claws, its colossal armored beak snapping and clashing at the kzin. Vaemar twisted in mid-air, avoiding the beak in a blur too fast for Dimity to f
ollow, and landed on the creature's back. As they crashed to the ground together his jaws severed its neck in a single bite. The second thunderbird ran headless for a distance, wings flapping, before it collapsed.

  "Perhaps those screams will call others," said Vaemar. "From what we know about them they are cooperative to some extent. However, we have no time to waste on game. Where is our real quarry?"

  They surveyed the wilderness of rock.

  "Caves are the best hiding-place from an aerial search," said Dimity. "But they have to be a certain size. There are no caves of such magnitude here."

  "Caves are also obvious hiding places," said Vaemar. "If you have technology there are other ways of hiding."

  "Bending light?"

  "Or radar pulses. You see how much we think alike, Dimity? I do not need to explain things to you."

  "Not a technology we've mastered. Not without a lot of bulky and obvious equipment."

  "No. We haven't."

  The portable deep-radar showed a maze of granite. The radiation signature they had been following was lost.

  There was a quick movement in the shadows of the rocks. Vaemar and Dimity spun to face it, weapons ready. Sight, smell and Ziirgah sense all told Vaemar of another kzin. He called a challenge/greeting in the Heroes' Tongue.

  It came forward slowly. It was an adult male, with a good collection of human and kzin ears on its belt-ring. Vaemar stood rampant, staring, but with most of his fangs not yet showing. In that posture his chest was thrust forward somewhat, throwing into prominence the red splash that marked him as Riit. There was his own belt-collection as well. Both kzinti had their ears folded, and it was impossible to see their ear-tattoos in detail.

  The other kzin did not challenge or bare fangs, indeed the slightly bowed attitude of its head might indicate that it conceded Vaemar's dominance, although, Vaemar thought, the gesture might have been made less ambiguous.

  "Who are you?" he asked in the Neutral Tense, though as Riit he might have used a far higher one. Dimity, he knew, now understood something of the Heroes' Tongue. She had had sleep-lessons since returning to Wunderland and was a good natural linguist.

  "Chorth-Captain," replied the other kzin. "Of the Patriarch's Navy and the Patriarch's Claws."

  The Patriarch's Armed forces had been disbanded on this planet when the kzinti accepted the human cease-fire, the day when Raargh, who had been Raargh-Sergeant, had fled with Vaemar in a stolen air-car to the backwoods country beyond the Hohe Kalkstein.

  "There are no other Patriarch's Claws on Wunderland," said Vaemar, deliberately using the human name for Ka'ashi. Let Chorth-Captain make what he would of the qualifier "other." He added, "I have not met you before."

  Chorth-Captain was plainly much older than Vaemar, and he looked a great deal more experienced, strong, tough and battle-scarred. But Vaemar was Riit.

  That put him in an anomalous position on Wunderland. Some humans, he knew, wished to groom him to lead the kzin who had remained on post-Liberation Wunderland to take a place as partners with humanity. The reasons had been put to him openly, and, as he had told Dimity truthfully, he had agreed with them. He had felt no—well, little—conflict of loyalties once he concluded that what he was doing was for the long-term good of the kzin species. Indeed it was a project he had firmly committed himself to. Some humans he had dismembered in battle in the great caves. Some he had eaten. Regarding some like Rykermann, Cumpston, Leonie, the abbot, Dimity, or Anne von Lufft who had been one of his companions on a hazardous biological excursion, honor and companionship alike demanded that he die protecting them if necessary, as much as if they had been his Honored Step-Sire Raargh Hero or Karan.

  And yet with this he was Riit. The Riit had ruled the kzinti since before the Heroic Race first leapt into the stars. A large number of the kzinti of Wunderland respected him and, when necessary, obeyed him. It was left to other, older kzintosh, including some of the few surviving professional officers like Hroth and Hroarh and the old warriors on Tiamat to link with the human authorities and guide relations between the kzin and human communities in detail, but it was he who performed many ceremonial duties like opening Veterans' Hospitals and other projects and presenting the State of the Wunderkzin Address to the human Parliament. He knew he was being groomed even in his academic courses. It did no harm that he was tall, strong and fast even by kzin standards, as one would expect of Riit, and had been trained and was backed by Raargh-Hero, one of the toughest old kzintoshi on the planet. At the moment he could afford to find out more about this Chorth-Captain and not put his dominance to the test.

  "I still do not see how you got through the defenses," he said.

  "I landed here recently," said Chorth-Captain.

  Vaemar found it hard to believe him. Wunderland, and the whole Alpha Centauri system, was ceaselessly monitored by live and electronic sentinels against another kzinti raid or invasion. kzin ships had come, certainly, in the last few years—from kzin worlds that had no knowledge of the human hyperdrive or the human victory, freebooters whose livers had been maddened by old rumors, hungry for loot and glory, or regular Naval vessels returning from distant missions. Part of his duties was to help negotiate with them. Those that had not surrendered when informed of the true situation had not lasted long.

  "I hid long on the Hollow Moon," said Chorth-Captain, as though detecting his thoughts. "Since the battle between the fleets of Traat-Admiral and Ktrodni-Stkaa, and the human invasion I have lain in wait. I had help. There is much traffic. I left my fighter there and came back to Ka'ashi in a gig. It was small and undetected."

  Of course, Vaemar knew, not all the kzinti on Wunderland were entirely sane. Defeat had unhinged many, especially fighting kzin to whom defeat at the hands of weed-eating apes was unthinkable. Delusions among them that they were officers of the victorious Patriarchy, generally complete with Patriarchy-bestowed Names, were not uncommon, with pathetic and tragic consequences. There were also the crazed kdaptists, already splitting into murderously-quarrelling sects. Chorth-Captain, at least in this poor light, did not look insane or deluded, but not all of them did. He smelt a little strange, but that was not surprising. Also, it was a point of honor for kzinti not to lie outright, but many had developed great ingenuity in bending the truth. Association with humans had done nothing to diminish that skill. Vaemar wondered whose side Chorth-Captain had fought on in the final civil war of kzin that had killed his own first protector, old Traat-Admiral, and which had made the human hyperdrive Armada's reconquest so much easier.

  "What are you doing here? What do you want?" Vaemar asked. His mind framed the question: "Do you know who I am?" but he decided it was better not to force that issue at present. He did not particularly want to get into a fight in this situation.

  "I know what you seek. Come with me, and I will show you."

  Vaemar and Dimity paused. Similar thoughts raced through both their minds. "I know what you seek." A statement like that contained a challenge. How did Chorth-Captain know? What exactly did Chorth-Captain know? That someone—or something—had made a covert landing here? And why should he show them? He had not acknowledged himself as being under Vaemar's dominance, indeed calling himself a member of the Patriarch's Claws might be taken as defying that dominance. He had offered no hostility, and had voluntarily revealed himself to them, so he did not appear to be intending an attack. He seemed to accept the presence of Dimity at Vaemar's side without comment. Chorth-Captain turned away—which might be a gesture of trust—and started along the tunnel. Vaemar hesitated a moment, then moved to follow him.

  He saw the Protector too late. Its leap carried it outside the swing of his flashing claws. It landed behind him and before he could turn it had seized and secured his arms.

  Vaemar kicked backwards with his hind legs, steel-hard, razor-edged claws extended. Kicks, again too fast for a human eye, that would have disembowelled a Man or a Kzin. The Protector avoided them effortlessly and caught his feet in its free hand. Vaemar's claws
could not reach the hand's leathery skin, but the Protector pressed with a fingertip on Vaemar's feet so his hind-claws involuntarily retracted. From the corner of his eye he saw Chorth-Captain leap in the same instant, run up a wall on his hind legs and somersault to land beside Dimity, seizing her weapons and tucking her under one arm. Vaemar twisted his head violently, dagger fangs in bolt-cutter jaws crashing together where the Protector's head had been an instant before. The Protector shifted its grip to hold him paralyzed and taped his hands and feet securely. Though it stood little more than half Vaemar's height, it lifted him onto its shoulders.

  Chapter 7

  "I called Dimity," Patrick Quickenden told Nils Rykermann. "She wasn't answering. Then I called Vaemar's household. It took me a while to get put through to a human but the kittens' nurse was there. Apparently Dimity and Vaemar flew south. But they've stopped reporting."

  "As far as I know," said Rykermann, "there was a trip to Little Southland due. Routine check of some automated experiments." He did not speak particularly warmly to Quickenden, his coolness not all due to security considerations. He knew the Crashlander's protectiveness of Dimity stemmed from a love similar to that which he was trying to kill in himself.

  "Their car is down," said Quickenden. "It was sending out a normal carrier wave. No answer when we interrogated it. Then that cut off."

  Rykermann tried to keep his face impassive. He knew and disliked his own jealousy and possessiveness towards Dimity, and knew its irrationality, but could do nothing about it except try to switch his thoughts in other directions, and keep Dimity at a distance. He guessed now that he was always to be torn in two.

  Is Dimity in danger? Yes, stupid! We are all in danger! Tree-of-life? Protectors? Dimity doesn't merely look younger than her years like us, thanks to geriatric treatments. Because of those years in Coldsleep she is young. She could survive the change to Protector if she got a whiff of tree-of-life. And she is with Vaemar, who would tend to think it disgraceful to notice danger because he's not a human in a fur coat but a young male kzin. And Dimity, just because she is a super-genius, isn't assured of common sense. The reverse if anything. I don't want her to go chasing after hidden tree-of-life, and possibly finding it.