The Gripping Hand Read Online Free PDF
Author: Larry Niven
* *
"So that's all there was to it," Renner said. He sprawled back in the big RelaxaChair in Bury's study and let the massage begin as he lifted a glass of real cognac. "Jackson and Weiss got successful and become tri-vee stars. Local boys made good. So everybody copied them. Wow! And to think we knew them when." He laughed suddenly. "Weiss must have driven his Fyunch(click) crazy, imitating him like that! It's supposed to go the other way around."
"Naive." Bury let himself sink cautiously into his chair and touched the button twice for coffee.
"How so naive? You heard the Governor."
"I heard him explain away a peculiar habit," Bury said softly. "I did not hear an explanation of why there is too much money in this system."
"That's true," Renner admitted.
"He has been to Mote Prime," Bury said. "The Governor himself. He and Weiss had money to buy and outfit a spacecraft. If there ever was a man better suited to hide captured Watchmakers. Or an Engineer, or—"
Renner laughed. "Bury, that's bizarre!" He leaned back into the massage chair and let it work as he remembered the miniature Moties. Small aliens, not really intelligent, but able to manipulate technologies beyond anything Renner had ever seen. Oh, they'd have been valuable, all right! And they'd destroyed the battle cruiser MacArthur .
Still. "Horace, you've been clinically paranoid since long before I met you. Blaine let the Watchmakers get loose on his ship, but Christ, it was impossible to get Moties into Lenin ! The Marines didn't let anything through unless it went through molecule-by-molecule inspection!"
"Not impossible. I did it myself." Bury's hands kneaded the chair arms.
Renner sat bolt upright. "What?"
"It would have worked." Bury waited as Nabil came into the room with an ornate silver coffeepot and thin cups. "Coffee, Kevin?"
"Sure. You smuggled out a Motie?"
"We did that, didn't we, Nabil?"
Nabil grinned mirthlessly. "Excellency, that is one profit I am pleased that you never collected." It was a liberty Nabil would not normally have taken; but Bury only shivered and sipped at his coffee. He was wearing the diagnostic sleeve.
"Bury, what in hell?"
"Have I shocked you after twenty-five years? The Watchmakers were potentially the most valuable thing I had ever seen," Bury said. "Able to fix and repair and rebuild and invent. I thought it madness not to keep a pair. And so we arranged it, a pair of Watchmakers in suspended animation, hidden in an air tank. My air tank on my pressure suit."
"On your back ?" If Bury was lying, he was doing it well. But Bury did lie well. "You don't have Watchmakers. I'd know."
"Of course I do not," Bury said. "You know part of the story. MacArthur was lost to us, the Watchmakers were running wild throughout the ship, changing the machines for their own use, killing Marines who peeped into their nests. We crossed on lines between MacArthur and Lenin . Long spiderwebs of line with passengers strung like beads. The universe was all around us and the great globe of Mote Prime below, all circles, the craters left by their wars. The huge globe of a ship came near. I could feel the wealth and danger on my back, Marines ahead, and the risk of running out of air too soon. I had accepted that risk. Then—"
"Then you looked back. Like Orpheus."
"The sun happened to shine directly into the faceplate of the man behind me."
"You saw tiny eyes—"
"The djinni take you, Kevin! It's my nightmare, after all! Three pairs of tiny eyes looked at me out of the faceplate. I hurled my briefcase at them. I reached around and wrenched one of my air tanks loose and hurled it after. The suit dodged—clumsy, it was a wonder they could get it to move at all—dodged the briefcase and was in perfect position when the air tank smashed the
"So that's all there was to it," Renner said. He sprawled back in the big RelaxaChair in Bury's study and let the massage begin as he lifted a glass of real cognac. "Jackson and Weiss got successful and become tri-vee stars. Local boys made good. So everybody copied them. Wow! And to think we knew them when." He laughed suddenly. "Weiss must have driven his Fyunch(click) crazy, imitating him like that! It's supposed to go the other way around."
"Naive." Bury let himself sink cautiously into his chair and touched the button twice for coffee.
"How so naive? You heard the Governor."
"I heard him explain away a peculiar habit," Bury said softly. "I did not hear an explanation of why there is too much money in this system."
"That's true," Renner admitted.
"He has been to Mote Prime," Bury said. "The Governor himself. He and Weiss had money to buy and outfit a spacecraft. If there ever was a man better suited to hide captured Watchmakers. Or an Engineer, or—"
Renner laughed. "Bury, that's bizarre!" He leaned back into the massage chair and let it work as he remembered the miniature Moties. Small aliens, not really intelligent, but able to manipulate technologies beyond anything Renner had ever seen. Oh, they'd have been valuable, all right! And they'd destroyed the battle cruiser MacArthur .
Still. "Horace, you've been clinically paranoid since long before I met you. Blaine let the Watchmakers get loose on his ship, but Christ, it was impossible to get Moties into Lenin ! The Marines didn't let anything through unless it went through molecule-by-molecule inspection!"
"Not impossible. I did it myself." Bury's hands kneaded the chair arms.
Renner sat bolt upright. "What?"
"It would have worked." Bury waited as Nabil came into the room with an ornate silver coffeepot and thin cups. "Coffee, Kevin?"
"Sure. You smuggled out a Motie?"
"We did that, didn't we, Nabil?"
Nabil grinned mirthlessly. "Excellency, that is one profit I am pleased that you never collected." It was a liberty Nabil would not normally have taken; but Bury only shivered and sipped at his coffee. He was wearing the diagnostic sleeve.
"Bury, what in hell?"
"Have I shocked you after twenty-five years? The Watchmakers were potentially the most valuable thing I had ever seen," Bury said. "Able to fix and repair and rebuild and invent. I thought it madness not to keep a pair. And so we arranged it, a pair of Watchmakers in suspended animation, hidden in an air tank. My air tank on my pressure suit."
"On your back ?" If Bury was lying, he was doing it well. But Bury did lie well. "You don't have Watchmakers. I'd know."
"Of course I do not," Bury said. "You know part of the story. MacArthur was lost to us, the Watchmakers were running wild throughout the ship, changing the machines for their own use, killing Marines who peeped into their nests. We crossed on lines between MacArthur and Lenin . Long spiderwebs of line with passengers strung like beads. The universe was all around us and the great globe of Mote Prime below, all circles, the craters left by their wars. The huge globe of a ship came near. I could feel the wealth and danger on my back, Marines ahead, and the risk of running out of air too soon. I had accepted that risk. Then—"
"Then you looked back. Like Orpheus."
"The sun happened to shine directly into the faceplate of the man behind me."
"You saw tiny eyes—"
"The djinni take you, Kevin! It's my nightmare, after all! Three pairs of tiny eyes looked at me out of the faceplate. I hurled my briefcase at them. I reached around and wrenched one of my air tanks loose and hurled it after. The suit dodged—clumsy, it was a wonder they could get it to move at all—dodged the briefcase and was in perfect position when the air tank smashed the
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