Larry Niven - Fate of Worlds - Return From the Ringworld

Louis was foolishly, foolishly loyal. Even after Long Shot had vanished, he must have stayed near the Fleet. Alice, too, then.

Two good friends were about to die for their loyalty.

The Ringworld was a million miles across and six hundred million the long way around. In thirteen years, Louis had scarcely begun to explore its vastness or grasp the incredible variety of its thirty or so trillion inhabitants. Endurance, meanwhile, was all of three hundred feet from stem to stern, with most of its volume crammed with power plant, engines, environmental systems, deuterium tanks, and supplies. He was accustomed to room, tanj it, and meeting new beings every day, and endless novelty. He should have been climbing the walls.

Being near Alice made all the difference.

Her anger had faded. She had begun opening up to him, sharing, confiding. Maybe that proved only that she had no one else to talk to, but he chose to believe they had gone past the politeness of necessity. Despite raging hormones and unrequited love, he contented himself with her friendship —

And burning off energy and adrenaline by pacing the too-short corridors of Endurance.

Where was the Ringworld now? As a protector, with only surmises and inference to guide him, he had reached an answer of sorts. With Tunesmith’s modifications and its reserves of stored energy, the Ringworld could have traveled about a thousand light-years. As mere slow-witted Louis, he couldn’t even remember the long string of inferences that led to that conclusion. If he had, he could no longer have followed the logic. All that mattered was that Tunesmith had removed Ringworld and its trillions from the Fringe War.

And that now the Fringe War was coming after new prey.

If anything was going to save the Fleet of Worlds, it had to happen fast. Judging from the ripples picked up by ship’s sensors over the past few days, the front wave of the Fringe War was almost upon them. About to wash over — to wash away? — the worlds of the Puppeteers.

On one of Louis’s endless circuits, Alice grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. She said, “None of what happened, and none of what’s about to happen, is your fault.”

What was he supposed to say to that? That he knew? The words would take none of the sting out of admitting failure. Baedeker was gone, and Nessus, and for all Louis’s brave words as they had watched and waited, he had come up with — nothing.

He shrugged.

“Louis, quit it,” Alice said, concern plain in her voice. “We stayed so that we can report back to New Terra about what’s about to happen. That’s the only reason we stayed.”

“Don’t you care about what has already taken place? Don’t you wonder why Baedeker and Nessus died? Whether their sacrifice served any purpose?”

She squeezed his arm. “Maybe some good came of me growing old. I’m going to share the wisdom of age: when you can’t change something, let it go. When you can’t know something, there’s no point torturing yourself with what-ifs.”

Alice was right, of course. She usually was. Rather than admit it, he said, “I’m going to get some lunch. Join me?”

“Who’s cooking?”

He mock shuddered. “By amazing happenstance, it’s once again my turn.”

She laughed.

They strode off to the relax room, where Louis let the rhythms and rituals of cooking calm him. Alice worried about him. That was progress.

“The thing is,” he began.

“Which thing?”

Dicing vegetables for stir fry, Louis considered. “Do you know what makes me the craziest? It’s the not knowing. What happened after Long Shot was destroyed? What are the Puppeteers planning to do when the Fringe War rams itself down their throats?”

While Louis chopped, Alice synthed a bulb of hot tea for herself. She reminded him, “When you can’t know, don’t torture yourself.”

Nor could they find out, for the same reason that whichever Fringe War fleet arrived first was in for a surprise. Louis had made as close acquaintance as he cared to of the Puppeteers’ defensive systems. “So we stay a half light-year away, waiting for the Puppeteer news broadcasts to creep out to us on sluggish light waves.”

She sighed. “We’ve been over this, too. Sure, we could jump deep into the array, get much closer to Hearth, and pick up radio broadcasts. We could watch near-to-current news that way. But without hanging around to become a target, how likely are we to learn anything useful?”

“Beautiful and smart,” he told her. But I need to know!

“Pardon me for interrupting your meal,” Jeeves called from the nearest intercom speaker. “I am picking up a hyperwave broadcast from Achilles, and it is urgent.”

ACHILLES! HE WAS PSYCHOTIC under the best of circumstances. What mood would he be in on the brink of a Kzinti reprisal attack? Louis hated to imagine it.

Alice said, “Put the broadcast on the speaker, please.”

“Louis Wu, listen carefully,” the transmission began. Knowing the words came from a sociopath made the lilting feminine voice all the more incongruous.

“Pause,” Louis instructed. “Achilles is addressing this straight to me? It’s in Interworld, not translated?”

“That is correct.”

“Thank you. Restart,” Louis said.

“Louis Wu, listen carefully. This is Achilles, Minister of Fleet Defense. Know that Nessus is my prisoner. Suspend your preparations for Plans Epsilon and Theta. At the first provocation from you, Nessus will suffer terribly.”

Alice looked as stunned as Louis felt. She said, “Nessus is alive? How is that possible?”

“I saw Long Shot come apart and explode. I don’t understand how anyone could have survived.” Louis realized he still clasped a kitchen knife. He set it down. “If Nessus survived, maybe Baedeker did, too.”

A big if. Achilles lied as effortlessly as most people breathed. Still …

“What are these plans Achilles wants me to suspend? Alice, Jeeves, any ideas?”

Alice shook her head and Jeeves remained silent.

“Suppose,” Louis mused aloud, “that Nessus is alive and fallen into Achilles’ clutches. Nessus could have invented imaginary plans to cover up something else.”

“Will imaginary schemes keep Nessus safe?” Alice asked.

“More likely the opposite,” Louis admitted. “Either way, Nessus in Achilles’ prison is Nessus not accomplishing whatever he and Baedeker set out to do.

“So let’s give Achilles a reason to tread lightly. Jeeves, record a message for broadcast. ‘Minister Achilles, this is Louis Wu. If any harm comes to Nessus, all responses, not only Epsilon and Theta, are on the table. You are warned. End of message.’”

“Good bluff,” Alice said. She leaned against a wall, rubbing her chin in thought. “I suggest we drop a hyperwave relay with that recording on time delay, and get far away before the buoy sends the message.”

“Agreed. And then we get busy,” Louis said.

“Doing what?” Jeeves asked.

“Planning a rescue,” Louis said.

PROTEUS CONSIDERED:

That the response to Achilles matched Louis Wu’s voiceprint in Chiron’s pre-Ringworld briefing.

That Louis’s counterthreat would enrage — and distract — Achilles.

That as their mind grew exponentially they would not require Achilles’ preoccupation for much longer.

That for a short while, further distraction of Achilles was for the best …

“WE ARE BEING HAILED,” Jeeves announced.

“Another broadcast to me?” Louis guessed.