Larry Niven - Footfall

Harry knew the ducts like the roof of his mouth. The trouble was that he kept bumping into the sides. Ensign Franklin stayed ahead of him. Franklin hadn’t helped build these ducts, but he had astronaut training in a weighted pressure suit in a swimrnii pool.

“Acceleration. Stand by.”

The ship surged. Gillespie was throwing the thrust bombs far back, using them less for thrust than to power the spurt bombs

Still, Harry snatched a rung only just in time.

“Where are we?” Franklin asked.

“About the middle of the Brick. That was the midpoint later tunnel we just passed. Port water tank below us. Here, this is top of the equipment bins.” He looked in, and Franklin peered past him. “Nothing shook loose. Welding and cutting equipment, patch plates — same size as the walls, you have to tilt them to get through the ducts—”

“I know.”

“Patches for steam pipes, the valve wheels, lines and cable nooses of the finest hemp.”

“’There was a girl who never laid me, but she made me scream’, The Five Thousand Fingers of Doctor T,” Franklin said.

“I like her already.”

“Yeah.” They continued forward. Harry tried launching himself from the rungs, bouncing slantwise from the opposite wall. Didn’t work. Best move was to parallel the rungs and keep the within reach. “It’s harder to move around than I thought it would be. Tires you out faster, too.”

“Yeah. That’s always a surprise,” Franklin said.

The duct expanded into a maze of pipes. Pipes five feet wide flared into cones eighteen feet across. The cones ran through the hull and outside: twelve cones facing in three directions in rows of four each. “The attitude jets. We’re at the upper port corner of the Brick,” Harry said. “It’s all so clean. I’m going to hate seeing it messed up in a battle.”

“When they told me about the steam pipes, I wondered if they’d want me shoveling coal too.”

Harry laughed. “Shall we take the cross duct and come down the other side?”

“Lead on. I’m lost already.”

“Acceleration. Stand by.”

WHAM

Nikolai led. The gravity was still low enough to let them move in great leaps.

If it gets strong enough, he won’t be able to move fast, Jeri thought. What will they do then? She wanted to ask, but the last time she’d spoken it had upset Dmitri.

Arvid lets that commissar tell him what to do. Why? We aren’t in Russia, and he isn’t smarter than Arvid.

It was difficult to keep up. It was also obvious that the Russians weren’t going to slow for her. They moved on through the air shafts. Each time they passed one of the ring-shaped robots Jeri felt terror. Suppose the thing came after them, tentacles flailing? They moved deeper into the ship. Where are we going? Wherever it was, Nikolai never hesitated as they went through twists and turns. Jeri caught glimpses of marks by some of the tunnel forks. Cyrillic letters. Of course!

“We are here, Comrade Commander.”

Dmitri might be in command, but Nikolai spoke and listened only to Arvid Rogachev. He must not like Dmitri any more than I do, Jeri thought.

The room below was filled with cabinets and boxes, but no snouts. Dmitri waited impatiently for Nikolai and Rogachev to open the accessway, then dashed ahead of them to begin opening boxes, flinging their contents out onto the deck.

Tang? And that label says something in Russian! Where are … oh.

Dmitri opened another box. “Ha!” He reached into the box and brought out a big pistol, then fumbled in the box again until he found ammunition.

“That belonged to the American, Greeley,” Arvid said. “Is there another? The Americans brought several and gave one to me as a gift.”

“Da. There are two.” He brought out another pistol and handed it to Arvid with a box of ammunition.

Only two. I wonder if Dmitri can shoot as well as I can? I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking.

Arvid loaded the pistol and held it high. “At last my arm is whole again!” he shouted in English.

And what did the snouts make of that picture? “Is there anything else? Knives? I had a Walther PPK when they captured me, is that in there?”

“No.” Arvid opened wall cabinets. Spacesuits hung like mannequins. “Hah. I suppose it is too much, to hope there will be filled air tanks.”

“If these can be made airtight,” Dmitri said, “will they not allow us to live in vacuum even without air tanks?”

“A few minutes longer. Not more.”

“We can kill many snouts in a few minutes,” Dmitri said. “Let us see if these can be made to fit us.”

Mrs. Woodward was dithering. “If I thought we could get to that big slab, the Podo Thuktun — they worship that, don’t they? We’d be even safer.”

“They lock it,” Alice said. “They lock everything but the kitchen and the garden and the funeral pit. You don’t want to hide in the funeral pit!”

“No. What are you doing?”

Alice was unscrewing the big wing nuts on a grill. “I’m going to Wes. Get the kids to the Garden. Hide.”

“Hide? Alice, they won’t harm children.”

“Carrie, you don’t want to be caught after Arvid and the Russians start their moves!”

“Oh.” Carrie put an arm around each of the children. “Alice—”

“I’ll be fine. Wes needs me.”

Carrie Woodward nodded agreement. “I’d have gone for my John. God be with you, Alice.”

“Thanks.”

A recorded voice trumpeted in the alien language. “Take footholds against thrust!”

Alice dove into the air shaft. Behind her Carrie Woodward gripped the corridor’s wet carpeting, both children clinging to her.

The pull increased until it was uncomfortable, then increased again. Like Kansas? More? I don’t know. Alice moved through the air shafts. Somewhere ahead was Wes Dawson.

The fithp warriors gestured but didn’t speak.

All right, Dawson thought. They’re still trying to drive me mad. Have they done it? How long since I had anyone to talk to?

There were only two, one before and one behind. I’m strong like Superman. Exercise. I’ve walked all the way from New York City to Joplin, Missouri. And they’re still elephants. Too damn big.

I’m as fast as they are. Faster. Jump back, grab that one’s gun! But why did they come for me?

No spin. Acceleration, thrust after all this time. Why am I out?

To prove I’m a rogue. Wait for me to go for a gun so they can kill me… no. Makes no sense. They wouldn’t take the spin off just for that.

Damn! I’m as schizzy as Alice. He stifled that thought. Alice isn’t crazy. Maybe she got over it.

Alice is sweet, and if I live through this, what will I do with her? Carlotta will kill her!

They were in a shallow spiral curve, climbing toward the ship’s bow. Thrust had risen to something like Earth normal.

They emerged in a place with windows, a place he had never seen… except in his mind, perhaps. A starship’s control room, an alien starship. It was dimly lit; half the light was coming from square UV monitor screens. There were no chairs, only pads and recessed holds for the claws of fithp feet. The pads would tilt for spin gravity, but they were flat now. He’d guessed from the change in gravity, and now he knew: Thuktun Flishithy was on a light footing. The warriors were holding back, out of the way.

Four fithp stood together in the center of the bridge. Dawson recognized one. Takpusseh-yamp. A fi’ saw them and beckoned. The Bull Stud? Yes, for the warriors immediately brought him forward, digits twined round his arms.

“Dawson,” the Herdmaster said. “Are you sane?”

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes up and bobble his finger against his lips. “Yes. No thanks to you.”