Man-Kzin Wars 9 Read online

  “The spectrum grows more and more strange,” said his colleague Takata. “In the past few hours I have been finding an increase of iron, largely hydrides…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Spewed up from below, I suppose,” suggested the physicist Padilla. “Should heavy elements not have sunk to form a core?”

  “No,” answered Verwoort. “They exist, yes, and they would be more plentiful in lower layers, but with as vast a mass of hydrogen and helium as this, the percentage is so small that it must always have been diffused. The core is metallic hydrogen, maybe pressed into a still denser form than in Jupiter. This upwelling should tell us much about the gaseous atmosphere.”

  “It is not the only peculiar chemistry,” Takata said. “Jens will have plenty to consider when he gets back.”

  “What will we see when the whole thing breaks apart, before it falls into the sun?” asked the steward Hauptmann. While he was intelligent enough, science was not his forte, and with as many people to look after as there were on this voyage, he had been too busy to keep track.

  Kivi shook her head. “It won’t break like a melon,” she explained. “The planet’s self-gravity will hold it together as it fills its Roche lobe. We can’t predict events with any precision, and no doubt we will be surprised. However, we can say that turbulence within may well eject great gouts of material, forming a spiral that streams into the star. The magnetic effects—but that goes too far into speculation. Eventually the planet will take a teardrop shape, filling its Roche lobe, and pouring its substance down that spiral until it becomes an accretion disk. This will go on at an accelerating rate for some undetermined time. Decades at least, possibly centuries.” She sighed. “How I wish we had probes that could observe from sunside!”

  A goodly number were aflight, but those that had gone between planet and star were suicides, sending only bare glimpses before heat and radiation killed their electronics. Tyra’s mind strayed for a moment to an image she had seen two daywatches ago. Samurai’s long-range observations had, earlier, picked up a craft that emerged from Strong Runner and went out to the ice moon of Three. Now it had returned, presumably loaded. Spheroidal, with broad fins, blinding-bright reflective, it was of a size to account for the mother ship apparently having only three other boats along in spite of being designed as a carrier. The view that Samurai’s computer reconstructed and shared with Freuchen showed it maneuvering about, a test run. Spectroscopy revealed it venting some water vapor from widely over its surface.

  Craig Raden had been with her then, gazing as intently. “A sundiver for certain,” she had said. “Not nearly as big as the one Captain Saxtorph encountered, and probably not as well outfitted. It can’t have life support for more than one or two. A prototype, pressed into service.”

  “You seem to have studied the subject rather thoroughly,” he drawled.

  She felt how she flushed. “Naturally, after I’d been with Rover’s people, I was interested in their past experiences and went back to the database entries.”

  Was he watching her? She didn’t look toward him. “For an opportunity like this, they’ll take the risk. A bold venture, ingeniously thought out, and very possibly scientifically invaluable. We must find our way to cooperation with them.”

  She made no reply. Worse than useless, reviving that quarrel. He had likewise been careful after the crisis to say merely that Bihari could have shown more restraint. After all, Emil, Louise, and Birgit were back among them, uninjured albeit shaken. Once again, though, the relationship between Tyra and Craig was not quite cordial. That hurt worse than she cared to admit.

  Kumukahi’s image was slipping close to Pele’s in its headlong rush around the sun.

  “The polar orbiters are doing fine work,” Takata was saying.

  “At a distance,” Kivi answered. “If we had had time to design and build a sundiver of our own—”

  “We didn’t,” snorted Verwoort. “We can recommend the making and dispatching of several when we report home.”

  “Robots,” said mate Deutsch a bit sadly. “Nothing but robots to keep watch after us.”

  “Well,” replied Captain Worning, “decades or centuries would be a long and expensive time to maintain humans on station. They might grow bored.”

  Padilla laughed. “Besides,” he put in, “when enough atmosphere is gone that the core drops below a critical threshold, it will explode. I would not want to be any closer than hyperspace escape distance.”

  “Yes,” agreed engineer Koch, “better we live to see the images.”

  Kumukahi dropped below yonder restless horizon.

  “Let us check with the boat,” proposed Worning, and entered a command. Tyra’s heart stumbled.

  Josef Brandt was piloting for physical chemist Jens Lillebro. Raden had invited himself along. “Not my cup of tea, strictly speaking,” he had said with his irresistible smile. “But one never knows what sort of clue lies where, does one? At least I can take a few observations of Pele from that angle. Those spots on her are acting downright eerily,” as the planet’s gravitational force swept through the photosphere.

  The screen in Freuchen awoke again, to a view of Henrietta Leavitt’s cabin. Brandt sat intent at his controls, Lillebro at his spectroscopic readouts. Raden saw that they were in communication and responded. “All’s well,” he proclaimed. “We’re closing in on the asteroid, and will have velocities matched quite shortly, at about five klicks’ distance. Behold.”

  No time lag was noticeable. They were only some 15,000 kilometers away. Kivi had identified the body among the data pouring in from the continuous automatic sky-scan and, retrieving earlier information, computed an orbit. Now they saw a rough gray lump, about three kilometers long and one at maximum thickness, slowly tumbling.

  “Apparently chondritic,” commented Raden. “You’ll notice the remarkable sparsity of craters. You’re right, Maria, it must be from the outer belt, lately perturbed into an eccentric path.”

  Pristine, Tyra knew, formed hardly more than a billion years ago, in a thinly bestrewn region where there had been scant occasion or time for collisions. Probes were to examine such rocks later. But who knew how much later? Composition and structure might well give unique insights into the early life of every planetary system. This chance was too good to pass up. Should Kumukahi make sudden call on Henrietta, she could boost back to Freuchen in well under an hour.

  “Backing down on it, essentially,” continued Raden’s voice. The asteroid swelled fast in sight. “As you recall, we’ll run parallel and let Jens stare while we send minisamplers—”

  The thing erupted. A white cloud burst raggedly forth. Gravel and boulders sleeted outward.

  Tyra heard herself scream.

  The view swung wildly. The barrage became glints across a whirl of stars. Somebody in the boat yelled, “Almächtige Gott!” Somebody else ripped an oath.

  The view returned to the cabin and steadied on Rader. Sweat studded his brow, but he grinned, well-nigh laughed. “Whoop, that was close! Thank Josef here. The autopilot isn’t programmed for—He yanked us free. Barely, but he did it.”

  Brandt looked around, his own expression grim. “Barely is correct,” he grated. “Some of those stones could have holed us, or even been bouncers.”

  Tyra shuddered. She knew what he meant. The boat lacked a protective screen-field. The hull was self-sealing. But a small object that punched through could lose too much energy thereby to make an exit, not too much to ricochet back and forth and quite likely hit a man.

  “Was für den Teufel—what happened?” roared Worning.

  Lillebro spoke almost calmly. “I can guess. The chondrules surrounded a mixture of ices, which also mortared them together. The agglomerate was metastable, and the impulses from our polarizer drive as we neared touched off volatilization and—it will be fascinating to learn what reactions.”

  “A bomb,” added Raden. “I daresay they’re not uncommon in young systems, but all of them are disrupted—solar inpu
t, impact energy, perhaps cumulative cosmic ray effects—long before intelligence evolves locally to notice them. What a discovery!”

  “It has just begun,” said Lillebro with rising excitement. “The gas spectrum, and we’ll collect specimens—”

  “No,” decreed Worning. “You will return here. At once.”

  “What? But, sir, now that we’re aware—”

  “Of what are we still unaware? I will not risk one of our two boats and three of our lives for something that robots can examine at leisure. Return. That is an order.”

  “Yes, sir.” Brandt did not sound unwilling. Lillebro sighed. Raden gave a wry grin and a rueful shrug.

  When he cycled aboard, Tyra was waiting at the lock. She reached for his hands. “You might have been killed,” she stammered, and could not altogether hold back the tears. “You might have been killed.”

  He drew her to him. “Do you care that much?” he whispered. “I dared not hope.”

  9

  A bunk could be folded out to double width, though it then filled most of the deck space in a so-called stateroom. Lights could be turned down to softness. Music could be commanded, Là cì daremm’ la mano, Liebestod, afterward the lilt and gentleness of Fynsk Foraar, though likewise softened to a background.

  “That was amazing,” he said as low. “I didn’t quite expect a supernova.”

  “Thank you,” she answered, snuggling, refusing to wonder if he’d used those words before or how often. “Same order of magnitude to you, sir. But let’s settle for ordinary novas. They can repeat.”

  He chuckled. His lips brushed her cheek. “Shameless hussy.”

  “I’d better be. You too. How many bets will be paid off tomorrow?”

  He looked away. She heard the sudden seriousness. “You told me you…don’t do casual.”

  She confronted her own spirit. “I don’t.”

  “It’s far too early to make promises. On either side.”

  “I realize that. But I decided, nothing ventured, nothing gained.” And, if this didn’t last—certainly the obstacles were many—she would at least have a profit of memories. As he would; she’d see to that. And she had the strength to pay the price. Which maybe wouldn’t be required of her.

  His eyes met hers. “I’m being as honest as I’m able,” he said, “because in fact I am in love with you.”

  “All right, it’s mutual.”

  “I wish I could, well, give you more. Now, I mean, before we go…home. We have so little here.”

  Through the eased-off happiness she felt her mind sharpen. She had given thought to this too. She did not believe the idea had snapped the leash she kept on herself. His escape did that. Nor was it a price she set, a bargain she struck.

  Nevertheless—

  “You can,” she said.

  His head lifted off the pillow. “What?”

  She moved slightly aside from his warmth and male odor to lean on an elbow and keep hold of his gaze. “When Kumukahi begins breaking up, you’ll be out there to watch, won’t you?”

  “Of course. We haven’t that many free machines, and we don’t know enough to write adequate programs for any. Who can tell what human observers might catch?”

  “Take me along.”

  “Eh?” he exclaimed, and sat straight. After a moment, he leaned back. “No, really, darling, it’s not feasible. If the event begins in the next few days, and it probably will, Birgit won’t yet be fit to pilot. That leaves Josef for one boat, crammed with scientists and their gear.”

  Tyra nodded. “I know,” from what Rover’s crew had told her. Neither they nor Eisenberg were weaklings, but kzinti captivity was at best unnerving. Given a stiff enough emergency, you could force yourself to carry on for a while. Thereafter medications merely helped time and nature. Eisenberg was absolutely right to disqualify herself for another week or two.

  “And autopilot won’t do for the other, not when we are bound to be surprised and must react fast if we are to collect the data,” Raden went on. “I shall have to steer.” Even now, she heard the relish.

  “Exactly,” Tyra said. “In that case, you can pick who comes with you, can’t you? If you make a point of it.”

  “Well, I see where it could give you a spectacular story. But no, the hazard—no.”

  “What hazard?” she challenged. “You’re skilled, you’re not a fool, you won’t take unnecessary risks.”

  “Not knowingly. Still, who can foresee what happens?”

  “Who can foresee what will happen anywhere?” She moved back to his side and laid an arm around his neck. “Yes, I may get quite an eyewitness account, but that doesn’t matter, Craig, truly it doesn’t. This,” she crooned, “is something you can give me, because it’s something splendid we can share.”

  She was entirely wholehearted and honest. Well, almost.

  Her free hand roved. She knew she could persuade him.

  10

  The three ranking kzinti met for their last time in the command lair of Strong Runner.

  “Once more, master, I ask that you reconsider, and take me with you,” said Rach-Scientist.

  Ghrul-Captain growled negation. “And once more I tell you that you are wanted to oversee what other data collection this expedition can do, and bring the booty safely home, whatever may become of me. You have been less than enthusiastic about my plan. Do you challenge my decision?”

  Rach-Scientist slipped his tail briefly between his hocks. “No, master, assuredly not.”

  Ghrul-Captain relented. “Bear in mind, this is a trial run, the first severe one. Yes, the instruments will peer and snuff, but foremost is to prove that the vessel can run such a course. That ride is for me alone.” And for me alone the glory, and the triumph that it will be over the monkeys, he thought; it was as if he tasted fresh blood. “On later flights, yes, perhaps I will let you come too.”

  “Master, I have not questioned your wisdom, nor do I now,” said Shayin-Mate. “However, I venture to ask that you record a summary of your intent. Should anything go awry, against my wishes—”

  Then you will be acting captain, who takes the ship back, makes trophy of the prestige that that confers, and contrives to lay the full blame for the debacle with the monkeys on me, thought Ghrul-Captain sardonically. Not altogether against your wishes.

  He did not resent it. In the mate’s position, he would have done the same.

  His rage at the humans flared. Because of their contumely, the exploit ahead of him would merely win back the standing Ress-Chiuu had lost for him. No net advancement. Unless, of course, he could do the foe a real injury…

  “The lords at Kzin will want a quick overview of events,” Shayin-Mate went on. “The technical reports can be digested for them later.”

  Ghrul-Captain’s fury smoldered back down. He expanded the ears he had folded and gibed, “Since you feel yourself incapable, I will pace the track for you.”

  “Master, it is simply that your own words will have the most force. I hope with all my entrails you will be on hand to deliver them personally.”

  “So be it.” Ghrul-Captain set the intercom scanner to record. Having curtly stated the purpose, he declared:

  “I am about to take the sundiver Firehunter on a swing around the sunward side of the giant planet we have come to spy out. The planet has just commenced its death struggle, so this is urgent. How things will go is unpredictable; they may become too violent for another such flight, although I am ready to dare whatever looks possible. For the same reason, unforeseeability, I make the flight piloted rather than robotic.” As well as there being no honor in risking a few machines. “I will accelerate inward, cut the drive at a suitable point, and have the planet itself take me around. I will then be moving at high velocity on a hyperbolic orbit which, if allowed to continue, would carry me nearer the human ships than is…desirable. However, well before then, I will reduce the vector and start acceleration on a quartering path to rendezvous with Strong Runner. Available delta vee is ample.<
br />
  “Perhaps observation of these extreme conditions at that close range will yield data of military value. It is sure that nothing like my mission has ever been attempted before.

  “Glory to the race!”

  He switched off and looked straight at Shayin-Mate. “Will that do?” he asked: a sarcasm, for it had better.

  The other dropped his gaze. “Thanks and honor to our captain.”

  Rach-Scientist said nothing. En route he had expressed doubts about the utility of the scheme. The passage between star and planet would take less than four hours. What few instruments could endure the environment must be rugged, heavily shielded, basically simple, and therefore of very limited capabilities. His class was necessarily allowed a certain latitude, and Ghrul-Captain had been content to override his objections. But to pursue them, especially now, would be insolence meriting punishment.

  And, yes, in the end he wanted to fare along. He too was a kzin.

  “I go, then,” said Ghrul-Captain. To linger when the game was afoot did not become a Hero.

  He strode down passageways and sprang down companionways to the portside boat lock. Firehunter waited alongside. A guard made obeisance as he reached the gang tube between. He passed on.

  The control den, the only section of the vessel with life support, was a hemispherical space less than five meters across, crammed with equipment and storage lockers, just enough room free for a kzin to curl up on a pad and get a little sleep—hardly a fit prison cell. The air hung chill and stale-smelling. Yet in the viewscreen above the main control panel blazed his goal. He exulted while he settled into the command seat, activated the systems, heard the purr of power and felt the slight tug on him when his craft cast free.

  Heavily burdened with her surrounding shell of water, she could not accelerate as fiercely as he would have wished. But her speed did mount, second by second, sunward bound. Ghrul-Captain hissed his satisfaction.