The Gripping Hand

by Larry Niven

  "Aye, aye. Godspeed, Commodore."

  "Thank you."

  Refuel only. No Motie would ever touch Atropos. Paranoid, but am I paranoid enough? After thirty years with Horace Bury? Renner said, "All right, Mr. Townsend, let's launch."

  An hour after Sinbad's departure, Rawlins called to report launch from Inner Base Six with full tanks.

  One of Renner's screens displayed Atropos as a black dot on a violet-white glare. Another display, unmagnified, showed violet dots weaving a slow pattern about Sinbad. Another showed Commander Rawlins sprawled in his acceleration chair, and Chris Blaine behind him in a similar couch. The strain of three-gee acceleration showed in both faces.

  "First things," Renner said. "The Moties report that our message to the Crazy Eddie Fleet went through as planned. No way to know if the Admiral got it."

  "But he ought to," Rawlins said, "And no way to know what he'll do about it."

  "Right," Renner said. "Anyway, for once things are pretty simple."

  Rawlins lifted an eyebrow with some effort. "If so, it's the first time."

  "Yeah. Bury and I have discussed the Khanate's options with the Moties, and we're all pretty much agreed on how things have to be. They've got two options. Plan A, they go through the Sister with everything they've got, hit whatever's waiting, and get through into Empire space, where they scatter. The Khanate is used to living off slim pickings: give them any kind of a system, and they'll soon be breeding like mad, if they can get their colony ships through."

  Rawlins said, "What's to stop them? Why have a Plan B?"

  "Well, they don't know they can get through," Renner said. "Or what they'll find when they do."

  "They're risking everything they have," Glenda Ruth said. "Those colony ships are the Khanate. Everything they have, and they don't really know what they're facing. By now they'll have Terry and Jennifer, so they'll know Agamemnon was all there was a couple of hundred hours ago."

  "Pity that engineer didn't just get himself killed," Rawlins said.

  Freddy bridled; Renner spoke quickly to head him off. "What they don't know, because nobody on Hecate could know, is what reinforcements Agamemnon may have picked up."

  "It won't be a lot," Rawlins said. "But maybe something. We did have some ships under repair, and this wouldn't be the first time Sinclair and his crew at the Yards passed a miracle."

  "We're presuming they can talk to Terry and Jennifer," Freddy Townsend said. "The first Tartar group couldn't."

  "The Khanate is richer than the Tartars," Glenda Ruth said. "They could have bought a half-trained Bury Fyunch(click) by now. I hope so."

  "Why?" Rawlins asked.

  "Jennifer admires Bury," Glenda Ruth said. "And she's impressed by the Empire. She'll be sure there'll be a big fleet with Agamemnon because she's got a romantic view of our competence. If they could talk to Joyce, it would be a different-"

  "Now, Glenda Ruth, I don't-"

  "We can hope," Renner said. "It may have happened that way. Whatever the Khanate learned from Jennifer Banda and Terry Kakumi, they're playing it plenty cautious. They're sending their warships through, but so far they've left their Masters behind. Those are still in Mote system with nothing but a corporal's guard."

  Renner touched the screen controls and brought up images of the remaining Khanate ships. They were big ships, like civilian cruise ships in the Empire, and not one resembled any other. They were accompanied by a score of smaller ships.

  "Two dozen-actually twenty-six of the big ships. That's the target. The thing is, a Master's family and entourage are a colony. Those are all the Masters and everything they need to survive, plants, symbiotes, useful Classes, everything. Each family a little colony.

  "We go after those. Medina is vectoring everything onto those ships. So are East India and the Tartars. Byzantium has agreed to help. In about twenty hours, things are going to be plenty hot for the Khanate Masters."

  "That part I understand. Fine by me," Rawlins said.

  Blaine said, "It won't be a surprise attack by the time we hit them, but right now they don't know how fast we're coming. They won't have factored in the boost from Inner Base Six. The Medina Alliance is bigger than they thought, too, as they'll soon find out. So-what choices do they have? Either they pop through to get support from their war fleet, or they send for help. Quite possibly both, that is, they go through and then yelp for assistance, which means recalling the war fleet. That should buy some time for Agamemnon."

  "Yeah, it just might," Rawlins said. He looked thoughtful. "If they do that, maybe we can reinforce Balasingham in time to do some good."

  "Good thinking," Renner said.

  "What's Plan B, Commodore?"

  Renner said, "Our best guess is that the Khanate's Plan B is the same as Medina's. If they can't blast past Agamemnon, then they come back here, put together a big alliance that can defeat Medina, and offer to negotiate with the Empire."

  "So the important thing is to see they don't get past Agamemnon. Other than that-do we care who wins?" Rawlins asked.

  Kevin Renner had never thought of that at all.

  "The Empire may not care," Bury said. "But we do."

  Rawlins frowned.

  "I'll second that," Freddy Townsend said.

  Both men were civilians. Rawlins couldn't quite suppress a patronizing tone. "Now, I know you like these Moties, but Imperial policy is not to get involved with the internal affairs of candidate systems."

  "We all know it happens," Freddy said.

  "Maybe, but this is at a policy level a hell of a lot higher than any of us," Rawlins said. "Even with the Blaine heirs aboard."

  "Rawlins-" Renner began.

  "Commander," Glenda Ruth said. "We're only speculating on what the Khanate might do. The fact is, they haven't tried to negotiate with us. They have taken two Empire citizens captive, and they won't even talk to us about it."

  "Hell, your friends took you captive."

  "And are doing their damnedest to make restitution," Freddy said.

  The two Mediators were listening intently, but neither spoke.

  "Medina has earned our trust," Bury said. "Should we not earn theirs? Then there is a matter of property rights. Medina knew that-"

  "Property?" Rawlins demanded, his reply delayed by the lightspeed gap.

  "Yes, Commander. They knew that the protostar would collapse, that the Sister would open. They bought that knowledge with scarce resources. Including the life of an Engineer we allowed to die aboard MacArthur."

  "Be damned," Renner said.

  "Yes." Bury's voice sounded labored. "The situation is not quite what happened to Mr. Townsend, but there are similarities. And from that little store of knowledge they guessed what we would do, and they bet their survival on being right. I have done the same myself. Do you not regard ideas as property? In a sense, Medina Consortium holds copyright on the Empire."

  A beat. Then, "Copyright. Thank you, Trader. Commodore?"

  Renner said, "We'll fight alongside Medina Trading. I'll take the heat. You've got your orders, Commander. Go hit those colony ships. We'll be thirteen hours behind you."

  "Yes, sir." Too late to be of any help, but they both knew that. "You're an unknown to the Moties," Renner said. "They won't know what your ship can do. I don't know if that means they'll concentrate on you or try to avoid you. Be ready either way. We're going to need your protection when we get closer, so try to stay alive."

  The delay was longer this time. "We'll try.'

  "Any more questions?...Right. Let's get to it. Godspeed." Renner switched off, to find Bury chuckling.

  "Yeah?"

  "I was thinking," Bury said. "I can envision a trial. With Blaine's parents presenting our defense."

  Sinbad was accelerating at 1.2 standard gravities. Glenda Ruth Blaine was using the cramped space of the galley area to do slow stretches. She asked, "Have you ever had a pet?"

  "My dad had a pair of Keeshonden," Joyce said.

  "They died, tho
ugh. You knew they'd die someday and did." Glenda Ruth didn't wait for a response. "It was like with Jock and Charlie. They told me themselves. Charlie died. My folks had a version of the C-L worm by then, but it was late for Charlie, or it wasn't quite right. No, Joyce, you leave camera where it is."

  Joyce hadn't moved. "I can't help what I'm thinking, Glenda Ruth, but if they were about to shoot me for knowing too much, I'd still be listening."

  "I'm not sure what I want to say for the press. What I did, it wasn't honest and it wasn't simple and it would be insanely complicated to try to describe. What I'm getting at is that the C-L worm pulled my oldest friend off death row. Hello, Freddy."

  Freddy had popped out of the pilot's enclosure. "Hi. Being interviewed?"

  "Off the record. Coffee?"

  "Bless you." Freddy Townsend turned to Bury. "Gravity all right, sir?"

  Bury looked up at him. "It is no worse than Sparta. I am quite comfortable. Thank you. It is harder on Ali Baba and our friends." The Mediator pup was huddled into Bury's armpit; it didn't seem unhappy.

  "I came back to show you something," Freddy said. "We've got cameras outside the Field." He indicated the lounge screens. Bright flashes and softer glows, the intricate light threads of a space battle

  "Atropos group?" Glenda Ruth asked.

  "They're still a couple of hours short of the Sister. That's the Tartar fleet. They were closest. Victoria, I'm afraid it's not going well for your people."

  "We did not expect it to," Victoria said.

  "A fearful consumption of resources," Omar said.

  "An investment," Bury said.

  "With potentially unlimited returns," Omar said. "We have had years to contemplate, but this is the first generation of Moties to see the universe as a place of real opportunity. So. How soon will we be there?"

  "It's a bit under two light-minutes," Freddy said. "Call it twenty-six hours at our present rate."

  "Won't it be all over by then?" Glenda Ruth asked.

  "Possibly not," Victoria said. "Space battles take time."

  "And this is a battle such as few have ever seen," Omar said. "A battle of Masters, the final failure of the Mediator class."

  "One thing I don't understand," Joyce said. "Why won't the Khanate negotiate?"

  There were new flashes of light on the screens.

  "More ships," Glenda Ruth said, "Whose are those?"

  "Hard to tell," Freddy said. "But they're shooting at the Khanate, so they're on our side."

  "Enemies of our enemies," Bury said. "We can but watch with patience. Allah has been merciful."

  "Joyce, there are many answers to your question," Victoria said. "Their history. The Khanate has had few successes with alliances."

  "Given their record this is not surprising," Omar said.

  "All true. They treat their allies with contempt. They did not honor the terms they had made with us. And now they see unlimited potential if only one of their colony ships survives to roam Imperial space."

  "Unlimited," Glenda Ruth said. "Crazy Eddie. An entire clan."

  "We see it, too," Victoria said. "As do Medina and East India. Call it an entire culture."

  Sinbad's control bridge was dark except for the navigation screens. Freddy had closed it off from the lounge. He had set the pilot's couch for massage mode.

  Glenda Ruth noted Freddy's relaxed posture. "Hi."

  "Hello."

  "I saw some activity on the screens."

  Freddy nodded. "The battle's started up again. I told the Commodore. There's not much we can do about it, for another fourteen hours, so there wasn't any point in rousing the others."

  And you're not saying why you didn't call me. "What do we do when we get there?"

  "Good question," Freddy said. "On this course we'll shoot past at about two hundred klicks a second."

  "That's not much use."

  Freddy showed some irritation. "If we slow to match velocities, we'll be forever getting there. The idea is that we can boost our thrust at the end if somebody needs our firepower. Otherwise it's safer to go through fast and backtrack."

  "Good news from all over," Glenda Ruth said.

  The main screen flared, a blue flash. She stared at it. "Freddy-"

  "It's all right. You don't have to watch."

  Her voice was almost patronizing, though it came three seconds later. "Freddy love, there's not much point anyway. All I'm seeing is colored lights. Why don't you tell me what's happening? Pretend it's a race."

  "Race. Okay." A touch zoomed the picture, expanded the center of the maze of colored lines. Lasers were splashing across black and coal-red balloons of varied size. One was inflating, green, blue, a white flash like a nova. "They began with twenty-six big ships. After twelve hours of fighting it's twenty-three. They're not moving much, but your brother would recognize that dance they're doing. Ship A floats behind Ship B. Ship B takes the heat for a while. You can't do it unless the enemy is all in one direction. Ship A sheds some energy, then drops the Langston Field just as it passes from the other ship's shadow. Fires everything. Turns on its Field again ... oops."

  "Doesn't always work?"

  "No. Twenty-two"

  "Uh-huh. Freddy, that was twenty-six clans of the Khanate. Each ship is an extended family. The ships are different sizes because some families are bigger, or richer. It's worth remembering that Moties don't flinch at extermination."

  Freddy looked at her

  "What are they doing now? Freddy, there goes another one!"

  "Caught you looking." He turned. "Where's the cloud?"

  "No, it just winked out. There, another one."

  "No, my love, that one's not dead." He slapped keys. "Commodore! Mister Bury!"

  Bury's image appeared on the intercom screen. "Two ships have fled through the Sister. I think motion. There goes another one, yes, Freddy?"

  "Yes, and another one just died. Five down, three gone through, and the rest are converging on the Sister."

  "0-okay. Atropos won't have to fight." Renner sounded tired, and there was no image on the screen. "Freddy, we'll have to go through, but that won't be for fourteen hours. You have the watch. I'd appreciate it if you'd work the navigation problem. It lets the rest of us get some sleep." There was a moment of silence. "Horace, we've got to talk to the Moties. We can't go through the Jump alone."

  "So I had surmised. Go to sleep, Kevin. I will negotiate."

  Kevin Renner set his couch to full recline and closed his eyes. He heard Bury's voice, brisk but with a thread of fatigue in it. "Omar, we will need as many warships as can be assembled to accompany Atropos and Sinbad through the Sister..." And then it all faded out.

  "Urgent message," the computer announced.

  Renner sat up at the console. "Put it through."

  Eudoxus showed on the screen. Renner punched in questions: Base Six was a bit under four light-minutes behind him.

  "Kevin, the fleets of Byzantium are delayed. They will not reach the Sister in time to accomplish anything, Shall we send them elsewhere? Also, we have detected objects on an intercept course with Sinbad. Three unidentified ships on this vector." There was a twitter of binary data. "They should be twenty-six minutes from intercept when you receive this."

  Renner thought it through, then sent, "I assume Byzantium is still your ally. Ask them and any other allies to join you at Base Six. Help to secure the Sister. We will look at your unidentified ships. Our present plans are unchanged. We will follow the Atropos group through the Sister. With luck you will secure the Sister from this side." Kevin thought for a moment and shrugged. Why not? "Godspeed." Renner clicked off. "Mr. Townsend?"

  Freddy Townsend's picture said, "What's up?'

  "Screen two." They studied the screen together. Black space and stars, and three dots approaching from low and thirty degrees off the port bow, a degree below the Pleiades.

  "Sinbad's detectors haven't seen them yet," Freddy said. "Maybe now that we know where to look..."

  "Right."
Renner punched in commands. "Three targets acquired. Constant bearing, and closing, thirty thousand klicks. They're not throwing anything at us yet, Freddy." He watched violet-white lights weaving about him and said, "I'd say our allies are already alerted, but call them anyway and make sure Rawlins knows, too."

  "Wake anyone else up?"

  "Call Joyce." Bury was fast asleep. His readouts were a little jagged, a bit disturbing. The Moties slept, too, and Kevin considered. "We don't need a translator, do we?"

  "Let her sleep. Death makes Glenda Ruth twitchy."

  Joyce Trujillo was awake: Kevin could see her screen alight past the back of her head. "Hi, Joyce. Battle shaping up. Freddy, have you got any of the other ships?"

  "Signal from Ten, but I can't read it. Warriors. I'm waking Omar."

  "Swell."

  Omar uncurled and sat up. What followed was a rapid exchange between Sinbad and its twenty small Motie Warrior fighter escorts. Omar said, "You are to be protected."

  Irritating. Kevin said, "If I tell you that I am a Mediator-Warrior-"

  "Ships Six through Twenty deployed between us and Bandit Cluster One. Ships One through Five in reserve. Expected attack at high velocity, two clusters of fighters around a fuel tank, expected to separate, plus a Master ship. These are some random ally of the Khanate, arriving late but obliged to protect the Sister from capture by East India and Medina."

  "Much better, Omar. Might they be aware that the Khanate has abandoned them? Give me your best guess."

  "They will not guess that, because the Khanate need not have told them what the Sister does. Ship One suggests you activate your Langston Field now."

  Renner did that. Screens went black, then lit one by one as he raised cameras.

  Violet lights were diminishing toward the Pleiades. "Omar, did all of our escort go off to fight?"

  "Omar's off," Freddy said. "I see four Warrior fighters still with us, not holding any special position. Dammit-" He didn't have to finish. Glenda Ruth was watching Joyce's screen with bright eyes.

  Joyce spoke to her, a near-whisper in the dark cabin. Kevin wasn't meant to hear. "Are we going to fight, do you think?"