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Larry Niven: The Man-Kzin Wars 12

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Larry Niven The Man-Kzin Wars 12

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"I'd say this planet, with its wide continents in the cool-temperate zone we like, became a kind of paradise of spoiled, land-rich kzinti. Plus one small city for those who liked business or recreation there, also supporting one spaceport. There are a number of such worlds in the Patriarchy.

"Then, as the First War with Men got under way, a lot enlisted in the Patriarch's Navy. Of course freebooters also took off in their own prides seeking Names and riches, and relatively few came back at the end of it all. It cut the breeding rate, too, because a lot of the survivors had their genes scrambled by radiation, but weren't about to give their kzinretti to anyone else to breed from. Fertile males tried to steal kzinretti when they saw the sterile males holding them, and that led to more fighting. I'd guess that Warrgh-Churrg expanded his lands by incorporating estates that had no heir powerful enough to hold them.

"Anyway, you understand that population pressure is not usually a problem on kzinti worlds. A good war is population control and fun at the same time. Did you know that the First War with Men was the first time in a long while that the kzinti population of most of the planets involved actually increased? They stopped fighting each other and stopped killing surplus kittens."

"That's a thought."

"It was a thought for many of us on Wunderland, when we worked through the implications. It was a thought that was present at the birth of kdaptism: Stop fighting, and life is longer and better."

"Well, obviously."

"Only in hindsight. Most kzinti don't grasp it even yet. I might remind you it's a fairly recent concept among men, too."

"Not all that recent."

"To be willing to die for peace? And not just in ancient legends?"

"Kdaptists will do that?"

"Did you get any training?" Ginger exclaimed.

"A little. But they said there wasn't the time or resources. With the probability of another war so high…They said to ask you."

"That's what they told me, too, when I protested about an inexperienced partner: 'Get them out while you can! Teach her on the job!' If it makes you feel better, however, it's been said that in this job, like any other sort of martyrdom, mere willingness is a very large part of the qualification."

"It doesn't make me feel a great deal better, actually. Martyrdom is not my first ambition."

"It's not invariably a volunteer job. Kdaptism first spread during the aftermath of the first human victory on Wunderland among those-computer nerds and telepaths, a lot of them-who suddenly realized they were sick of being barbarians. And a few officers and soldiers who'd listened to Chuut-Riit and had lived with human slaves, later led by at least one genius in the form of Vaemar. So you had kzinti on post-Liberation Wunderland who gave themselves names like Mister Robinson, and eventually kzinti like me, who probably talk too much even if we still have secret self-conferred kzinti Names that we cling to. It's less a religion than a set of attitudes and a long-term…well, perhaps 'dream' is as good a word as any. Whatever it is, it's all another reason I'm glad great-great-grandsire stayed on Wunderland after the First War."

"You don't envy Warrgh-Churrg, then?"

"I told you, he scares me… I wonder what he'd think of a kzin who admitted fear to a monkey?"

"That's quite a thought. I think I'll have a drop of that bourbon myself. Any sign of kdaptism here?"

"None that I can see. The most visible signs are of vehement persecution, of course. The Blackfurs-priests-have always had the attitude of the Inquisition. With the ability to smell heretics."

"Well, if there are any here, I hope they don't have a nose for you either."

"Unlikely. We're rare, and very rare off Wunderland."

"They have Jotoki here. They're an exotic species."

"They have them pretty well everywhere in the kzinti worlds," said the kzin. "Useful creatures. Prey animals and mechanics in one! And the feral ones cunning and dangerous enough to give Heroes decent sport. A hint of what humans might have been if the wars had gone differently. I'm glad they didn't."

"I know that, Ginger."

"Anyway, it seems there is something in the reports. Despite Warrgh-Churrg's lack of specificity, there may be unrepatriated slaves here. What did you think about the ears? I didn't want to be seen looking too closely."

"They might be human. But it was hard to tell. The slaves we saw shuffling round might have been human too, under those sacks they wore-I didn't see that they weren't, anyway."

"I'll have to get on a hunt."

"Will that be possible?"

"I don't know, but I don't see why not. A part of hospitality, and it could be very beneficial for him. He likes gold. I could see that, all right. And his ears twitched when I mentioned that I trade in it."

"He certainly seemed to have plenty of it around."

"Which is an infallible sign that he wants more. Excuse me, Perpetua, I'd like to brush my fangs. That vatach stinks. As if his piss wasn't enough to put up with!"

"Won't they be offended?"

"Let them think it's an exotic offworld custom. They expect offworlders to smell funny. Mark you, this place smells odd to me itself."

"How do you mean?"

"It's hard to say. The closest I can come is, it's not pure kzinti. Or not any pure kzinti I know. The large windows are the most obviously strange thing. I've never seen that in a major kzinti dwelling before."

"Different worlds, different styles, I suppose."

"Even the Patriarch's palace wouldn't have them so close to the ground. He must be very confident."

"Aren't all kzinti confident? Or fearless?"

"They try to be. If they have fears, only Telepaths know about it, which is one reason Telepaths of the Patriarchy are hated and despised-and short-lived. But big windows are a definite cultural statement… Our footprints in the snow as we came back-there was something odd there too, but I can't get my claws into it… Apart from a few slaves, who did we see as we returned?"

"Other kzinti."

"Yes, and they took you for granted."

"I hadn't thought of that!"

"Human slaves are not rare. Well, that may be understandable… But there was something else. By human standards kzinti culture is pretty uniform, with some local variations, but I get a feeling that there is something different here, something non-kzinti…" His voice trailed off.

"Can you be more precise?"

"I'm trying…gold…there's something…You don't really walk like a slave."

"I'm sorry."

"It could be fatal for you on some-probably most-kzinti worlds. But here you hardly rated a glance."

"I didn't realize you were watching like that."

"We must always watch like that! In this job the vigilant and the dead are the only kinds of operatives they are-though sometimes the vigilant are the dead all the same. Anyway, we've used fang paste for five generations and I'm not changing now."

"What if there is a telepath?"

"It would be dishonorable to use one on me unless he can be certain I've lied about something significant. And you may have noticed I've told as few direct lies as possible in case his ziirgrah picks them up. Even the occupation 'slave trader' can, with rationalization, be translated into something approximating the truth, since the Heroes' Tongue has no expression for our particular task."

"And does your own ziirgrah pick up anything?"

"This feeling of oddness, which, no, I can't be more precise about. And that he's keeping a lot back. When I mentioned 'honor'-which was a mistake, by the way; it's slightly bad form to talk about honor to a noble kzin-I felt an odd stiffening. As if he's doing something his own sense of honor is not entirely happy about. I must say that doesn't surprise me much. Any noble kzinti house tends to have plots and secrets, the more subtle and complex because kzinti hardly ever actually lie outright. It makes for certain tensions.

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