out.
A flood of sunlight made him squint.
He stood on a high peak, on a stack of six float plates and a stepping disk. Tunesmith and the Hindmost stood below him on a translucent gray surface. Louis looked first for the Arch, to orient himself.
The Arch--the far side of the Ringworld--arced from horizon to horizon, broad above the haze at the spinward and antispin horizons, narrowing toward noon where it passed behind the sun. Louis hadn't seen the Arch in some time.
Fist-of-God Mountain loomed to port like a lost moon, poking far out of the atmosphere. Around its foot the land was more moonscape than desert, hundreds of millions of square miles of lifeless pitted rock. Fist-of-God was an inverted crater. A meteoroid had punched up through the Ringworld floor from underneath, hundreds of years ago. The blast had flayed soil from the high places, even this far away. Naked scrith was dramatically slippery.
Closer were silver threads of river and silver patches of sea, and the dark green tint of life gradually encroaching. The land below the hill was a broad jungle, and cutting through it, a river miles across.
"Watch your footing," Tunesmith said. Louis lowered himself carefully onto naked scrith.
It was worth remembering: beneath this shell of landscape was nothing but stars and vacuum. There would be no springs hereabouts, no groundwater, nothing to support life. No busybody to wander by, to fiddle with the controls on an abandoned service stack. Exposed as it was, this was an excellent hiding place for high-tech tools such as these.
Louis asked, "Are you going to explain what's going on?"
Tunesmith said, "Briefly. As a breeder I knew little but remembered a great deal. Coming out of my transition from breeder to protector, the first thing I was sure of was that the Ringworld is terribly fragile. I knew that I was reborn to protect the Ringworld and all its species.
"That has come in steps. I whiffed Bram, of course, and knew I had to kill him. I spent some time learning from the Hindmost and his library, and watching the Fringe War develop. Then for a time it seemed best to work alone or with a few Hanging People protectors. Now I must assemble a team."
"To do what?"
Tunesmith touched controls. The service stack lifted. Four float plates detached from the bottom and eased apart. Tunesmith boarded a stack of two, leaving one each for the puppeteer and the man.
The puppeteer was looking about him. He said, "Downslope, one could survive. Ringworld folk are generally hospitable to strangers. Tunesmith, you never accept my word when you can test it. Why do you involve me?"
"And for what?" Louis demanded.
Tunesmith floated off downslope. Louis and the puppeteer boarded and followed. The protector's voice carried easily. He spoke Interworld with no trace of accent, projecting his voice from deep in his belly, fearing no interruption, like a king.
"The Fringe War grows more intense. The ARM is using antimatter instead of hydrogen fusion to power their motors and weapons. Louis, the Ringworld cannot survive this. Something must be done."
"See if you can describe it!"
"Louis, to shape a plan I need to learn more. Did the Hindmost tell you of a courier ship? Of puppeteer manufacture, with an experimental drive--"
"Long Shot. I've flown it. The warcats have it!" He hadn't called a Kzin a warcat in a very long time.
"We're going to take it back. We have time to recruit Acolyte," Tunesmith said.
They were nearing the edge of the jungle.
"Why would Acolyte join you?"
"I expect you will tell him to. Acolyte's father sent him to you 'to learn wisdom'."
"Joining you on a piracy expedition, is that wisdom?"
The puppeteer asked, "Do you need us? Do you trust us? Could you fight alone?"
The protector said, "I must leave someone to fly Hot Needle of Inquiry, or else leave Needle abandoned and adrift among the comets."
The Hindmost immediately said, "I can fly Needle."
"Hindmost, you would run."
"Louis and I will be
A flood of sunlight made him squint.
He stood on a high peak, on a stack of six float plates and a stepping disk. Tunesmith and the Hindmost stood below him on a translucent gray surface. Louis looked first for the Arch, to orient himself.
The Arch--the far side of the Ringworld--arced from horizon to horizon, broad above the haze at the spinward and antispin horizons, narrowing toward noon where it passed behind the sun. Louis hadn't seen the Arch in some time.
Fist-of-God Mountain loomed to port like a lost moon, poking far out of the atmosphere. Around its foot the land was more moonscape than desert, hundreds of millions of square miles of lifeless pitted rock. Fist-of-God was an inverted crater. A meteoroid had punched up through the Ringworld floor from underneath, hundreds of years ago. The blast had flayed soil from the high places, even this far away. Naked scrith was dramatically slippery.
Closer were silver threads of river and silver patches of sea, and the dark green tint of life gradually encroaching. The land below the hill was a broad jungle, and cutting through it, a river miles across.
"Watch your footing," Tunesmith said. Louis lowered himself carefully onto naked scrith.
It was worth remembering: beneath this shell of landscape was nothing but stars and vacuum. There would be no springs hereabouts, no groundwater, nothing to support life. No busybody to wander by, to fiddle with the controls on an abandoned service stack. Exposed as it was, this was an excellent hiding place for high-tech tools such as these.
Louis asked, "Are you going to explain what's going on?"
Tunesmith said, "Briefly. As a breeder I knew little but remembered a great deal. Coming out of my transition from breeder to protector, the first thing I was sure of was that the Ringworld is terribly fragile. I knew that I was reborn to protect the Ringworld and all its species.
"That has come in steps. I whiffed Bram, of course, and knew I had to kill him. I spent some time learning from the Hindmost and his library, and watching the Fringe War develop. Then for a time it seemed best to work alone or with a few Hanging People protectors. Now I must assemble a team."
"To do what?"
Tunesmith touched controls. The service stack lifted. Four float plates detached from the bottom and eased apart. Tunesmith boarded a stack of two, leaving one each for the puppeteer and the man.
The puppeteer was looking about him. He said, "Downslope, one could survive. Ringworld folk are generally hospitable to strangers. Tunesmith, you never accept my word when you can test it. Why do you involve me?"
"And for what?" Louis demanded.
Tunesmith floated off downslope. Louis and the puppeteer boarded and followed. The protector's voice carried easily. He spoke Interworld with no trace of accent, projecting his voice from deep in his belly, fearing no interruption, like a king.
"The Fringe War grows more intense. The ARM is using antimatter instead of hydrogen fusion to power their motors and weapons. Louis, the Ringworld cannot survive this. Something must be done."
"See if you can describe it!"
"Louis, to shape a plan I need to learn more. Did the Hindmost tell you of a courier ship? Of puppeteer manufacture, with an experimental drive--"
"Long Shot. I've flown it. The warcats have it!" He hadn't called a Kzin a warcat in a very long time.
"We're going to take it back. We have time to recruit Acolyte," Tunesmith said.
They were nearing the edge of the jungle.
"Why would Acolyte join you?"
"I expect you will tell him to. Acolyte's father sent him to you 'to learn wisdom'."
"Joining you on a piracy expedition, is that wisdom?"
The puppeteer asked, "Do you need us? Do you trust us? Could you fight alone?"
The protector said, "I must leave someone to fly Hot Needle of Inquiry, or else leave Needle abandoned and adrift among the comets."
The Hindmost immediately said, "I can fly Needle."
"Hindmost, you would run."
"Louis and I will be
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