Larry Niven - The Ringworld Engineers

Blood and tanj! Louis felt the heat rising in his ears and neck. Literacy was admirable, of course, and everybody learned to read sooner or later, at least in Interworld. But it was no life or death matter. Every world had voice boxes! Why, without a voice box, his translator would have nothing to work with!

“I need more help than I thought. I need someone to read to me.”

“You need more than you paid for. Have your master renegotiate.”

Louis wasn’t prepared to risk bribing this embarrassed and hostile woman. “Will you help me find the tapes I need?”

“You’ve paid for that. You’ve even bought the right to interrupt my own researches. Tell me just what you want,” she said briskly. She tapped at keys, and pages of strange script jumped on her screen. “Characteristics of scrith? Here’s a physics text. There are chapters on the structure and dynamics of the world, including one on scrith. It may be too advanced for you.”

“That, and a basic physics text.”

She looked dubious. “All right.” She tapped more keys. “An old tape for engineering students on the construction of the rim transport system. Historical interest only, but it might tell you something.”

“I want it. Did your people ever go under the world?”

Harkabeeparolyn drew herself up. “I’m sure we must have. We ruled the world and the stars, with machines that would make the Machine People worship us if we had them now.” She played with the keyboard again. “But we have no record of that event. What do you want with all this?”

“I don’t quite know yet. Can you help me trace the origin of the old immortality drug?”

Harkabeeparolyn laughed, softly this time. “I don’t think you can carry that many book spools. Those who made the drug never told their secret. Those who wrote books never found it. I can give you religious spools, police records, confidence games, records of expeditions to various parts of the world. Here’s the tale of an immortal vampire who haunted the Grass Giants for a thousand falans, growing uncomfortably cunning with the years, until—”

“No.”

“His hoard of the drug was never found. No? Let me see… Ktistek Building joined the Ten because the other buildings ran out of the drug before Ktistek did. A fascinating lesson in politics—”

“No, forget it. Do you know anything about the Great Ocean?”

“There are two Great Oceans,” she informed him. “They’re easy to pick out on the Arch at night. Some of the old stories say the immortality drug came from the antispinward Ocean.”

“Uh- huh .”

Harkabeeparolyn smirked. The small mouth could look prissy. “You are naive. One can pick out just two features on the Arch with the naked eye. If anything valuable came from far away and comes no more, somebody will say that it came from one of the Great Oceans. Who can deny it, or offer another origin?”

Louis sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“Luweewu, how can these questions possibly be connected?”

“Maybe they can’t.”

She got the spools he’d requested, and another: a book for children, tales of the Great Ocean. “I can’t think what you’ll do with these. You won’t steal them. You’ll be searched when you leave, and you can’t carry a reading machine with you.”

“Thank you for your help.”

He needed someone to read to him.

He didn’t have the nerve to ask random strangers. Perhaps a nonrandom stranger? There had been a ghoul in one of these rooms. If ghouls in the shadow farm knew of Louis Wu, perhaps this one did too.

But the ghoul was gone, leaving only her scent.

Louis dropped into a chair in front of a reading screen and closed his eyes. The useless spools bulged in two of his vest pockets. I’m not licked yet, he thought. Maybe I can find the boy again. Maybe I can get Fortaralisplyar to read to me, or to send someone. It’ll cost more, of course. Everything always costs more. And takes longer.

The reading machine was a big, clumsy thing, moored to the wall by a thick cable. The manufacturer certainly hadn’t had superconducting wire. Louis threaded a spool into it and glared at the meaningless script. The screen’s definition was poor, and there was no place for a speaker grid. Harkabeeparolyn had told the truth.

I don’t have time for this.

Louis stood up. He had no choices left.

The roof of the Library was an extensive garden. Walks spiraled out from the center, from the top of the spiral stairs. Giant nectar-producing flowers grew in the rich black soil between the walks. There were small dark-green cornucopias with tiny blue flowers in the mouths, and a patch of weenie plant in which most of the “sausages” had split to give birth to golden blossoms, and trees that dropped festoons of greenish-yellow spaghetti.

The couples on the scattered benches gave Louis his privacy. He saw a good many blue-robed librarians, and a tall male librarian escorting a noisy group of Hanging People tourists. Nobody had the look of a guard. No ramps led away from the Library roof: there was nothing to guard, unless a thief could fly.

Louis intended a poor return for the hospitality he’d been given. True, he’d bought that hospitality… but it bothered him.

The water condenser rose from the roof’s edge like a sculptured triangular sail. It drained into a crescent-shaped pond. The pond seethed with City Builder children. Louis heard his name, “Luweewu!” and turned in time to catch an inflated ball against his chest.

The brown-haired boy he’d met in the map room clapped and shouted for the ball’s return.

Louis dithered. Warn him to leave the roof? The roof would soon be a dangerous place. But the kid was bright. He might be bright enough to see the implications and call for guards.

Louis threw the wet ball back at him, and waved, and moved away.

If only he could think of a way to clear the roof entirely!

There were no guardrails at the edge of the roof. Louis walked with care. Presently he circled a clump of small trees whose trunks seemed to have been wrung like washcloths, and found himself in a place of reasonable privacy. There he used his translator.

“Hindmost?”

“Speaking. Chmeee is still under attack. He has retaliated once, by melting one of the great ship’s large swiveling projectile launchers. I cannot guess at his motives.”

“He’s probably letting them see how good his defenses are. Then he’ll deal.”

“What will he deal for?”

“Even he doesn’t know that yet. I doubt they can do much for him except introduce him to a female or three. Hindmost, there’s no way I can do any research here. I can’t read the screens. I’ve got too much material anyway. It’d take me a week.”

“What might Chmeee accomplish in a week? I dare not stay to find out.”

“Yah. What I’ve got is some reading spools. They’ll tell us most of what we want to know, if we can read them. Can you do anything with them?”

“I think it unlikely. Can you furnish me with one of their reading machines? With that I could play the tapes on the screen and photograph them for Needle ’s computer.”

“They’re heavy. They’ve got thick cables that—”

“Cut the cables.”

Louis sighed. “Okay. Then what?”

“Already I can see the floating city through the probe camera. I will guide the probe to you. You must remove the deuterium filter to expose the stepping disc. Have you a grippy?”

“I don’t have any tools at all. What I’ve got is a flashlight-laser. You tell me where to slice.”

“I hope this is worth losing half my fuel source. Very well. If you can secure a reading machine, and if it will pass through the opening to the stepping disc, well and good. Otherwise, bring the tapes. Perhaps there is something I can do.”