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Authors: Larry Niven,Jerry Pournelle

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Speculative Fiction

The Gripping Hand (39 page)

BOOK: The Gripping Hand
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"Damnation. What can you do?"

 

 

"Inform my Master. Request means to communicate with the Crimean Tartars, learn what I can of their situation and goals, and ask what I may offer in trade. You must tell me, Kevin, what must I ask for, what must we have, and what may they keep?"

 

 

"Mmm . . ." Kevin rubbed his face. Bristles. "The ship,
Hecate
, probably isn't worth saving. We want the humans, three to five humans back in good order. Tell them the Empire will be enraged if anything happens to those humans."

 

 

"It will, too," Joyce said. "They once sent a hundred ships to avenge the death of a Prince Imperial."

 

 

"I hadn't heard that story," Renner said. "Thank you, Joyce."

 

 

"Are these people that important?" Eudoxus demanded.

 

 

"Not quite," Renner said. "Next thing to it, though. Eudoxus, there are goods, including trade goods aboard
Hecate
. Some will be very valuable. Others—if possible, consult with the woman Mediator on
Hecate
. Her name is"—he glanced at Chris Blaine and got a nod—"the Honorable Glenda Ruth Blaine."

 

 

"Blaine. As I understand your naming conventions, she will be the daughter of a lord. A Lord Blaine. We know of a Lord Blaine."

 

 

"That's the one," Renner said.

 

 

"The commander of Mac Arthur. Second-in-command of your first expedition to us. You have not exaggerated her importance."

 

 

"Right. So get Glenda Ruth's opinion as to what to do with those trade goods."

 

 

"Their nature?"

 

 

"Not known to me. I'd expect them to carry chocolate, though."

 

 

"I never tasted chocolate," Eudoxus said.

 

 

"The Tartars can have this consignment. We'll get more for you when we can. There may even be some aboard
Atropos
. Okay?"

 

 

"Thank you. They will put restrictions on contacts with their— guests."

 

 

"Right. Stand by, I'll see if we have more instructions."

 

 

"With your permission I will begin making the Crimeans understand the importance of what they hold. Also to tell them of your life support requirements."

 

 

"Good. Thank you." Renner switched off. "Horace?"

 

 

Bury had watched in silence. He sipped at the coffee Nabil had brought. "One or another human might want to stay as liaison. Be prepared to give in on this, but ask for the return of all. I think it best not to mention the nature of the cargo."

 

 

"Chocolate?" Joyce asked.

 

 

Buckman said, "Signal from Eudoxus. Urgent message."

 

 

Chris Blaine inhaled sharply, started to say something, but didn't.

 

 

"Everyone ready? Here goes." Renner thumbed the communications controls. "News, Eudoxus?"

 

 

"Yes. Our observation ship reports that there are now two Crimean Tartar ships attached alongside
Hecate
. The ship itself does not appear to be harmed and was sending messages just prior to its capture."

 

 

Chris Blaine's relief was obvious. Captured was better than killed.

 

 

"One message was a broadcast of a Medina Traders hailing signal," Eudoxus said. "The rest were to Crimean Tartar ships and were not intercepted. Stand by a moment—here is one we recorded."

 

 

The viewscreen showed a human in full space gear, helmet closed, attached to a web of restraining lines. "We come in peace.
Fnamyunch(sniff!)
."

 

 

"That latter is a Medina Traders recognition signal," Eudoxus said. "She could only have obtained it by speaking with our embassy ship."

 

 

"That should help with your negotiations," Bury said.

 

 

"Ah? Ah, yes, Excellency, if they believe us, and they should. Thank you."

 

 

"Right," Renner said. "Stay on that. Anyone else? Good. Eudoxus, please call your Master and establish negotiations with the—Crimean Tartars."

 

 

"We are beginning that now. I will be needed shortly."

 

 

"Right. Then do something else for me. Call me back. And try to tell me who all these people are?"

 

 

Eudoxus nodded his head and shoulders, smiling, and vanished.

 

 
* * *

The colored lights in the control display were the only lights in
Hecate
.
Hecate
's four crew waited in a vast dark space, listening to clanking and thudding from the hull. They talked in whispers, and rarely.

 

 

With a sound like a gunshot, an elliptical section of hull blasted loose and into
Hecate
, edge on, straight toward Glenda Ruth. Jennifer shrieked, Freddy yelled warning. Glenda Ruth snapped her tether webbing loose and kicked herself clear . . . almost clear. The mass banged her flailing foot and tumbled aft, its course unaltered, and banged around back there where the cabin tapered to a rounded point. The cabin pressure fell rapidly, climbed, changed again, then stabilized.

 

 

Glenda Ruth's unladylike swearing fell into a sudden silence.

 

 

She hadn't seen the Motie enter.

 

 

Its gripping hand found a handhold. The crude-looking gun in its right hands was pointed at Glenda Ruth. She screamed and covered her face, then hurriedly grabbed a handhold and spread her hands wide.

 

 

Freddy asked, "Are you hurt?"

 

 

"It cracked me on the shin. Stay tethered, guys. The Motie might have shot me because I was moving. Just wait it out."

 

 

"It's a Warrior," Jennifer said.

 

 

"I think so. It's got toes, but . . . yeah."

 

 

Now the Warrior was gripping handholds with its feet, through digital gloves. A second weapon had appeared, a spiked club. The Warrior's head and shoulders swiveled rapidly. Its gun pointed everywhere. It leaped across the cabin, thudded against the wall, and scanned from there. When it was satisfied, it warble-whistled.

 

 

Another Motie came through. It was squat compared to the greyhound look of the Warrior. Its pressure suit hid the pattern of fur, but its behavior identified it: it was a Brown, an Engineer. Another Engineer followed and pulled a transparent balloon after it through the hole. Shapes moved within.

 

 

The Engineers converged on the controls, sliding past and around
Hecate
's crew, ignoring them. One began to play with the controls. Freddy seemed braced for disaster, but nothing much was happening.

 

 

Another Motie entered. A pressure suit hid her fur; she was a bit larger than the Engineers. A Mediator? The Engineers huddled with the new one, then kicked themselves aft. One opened the balloon and released four Motie shapes each less than half a meter long. They began to work at the aft of
Hecate
's cabin.

 

 

"Brownies," Jennifer said.

 

 

Glenda Ruth peered close. The little ones were chocolate brown, darker than an Engineer; and each of these had four arms. Watchmakers, "brownies," the Class that had destroyed
MacArthur
. All but one. The fourth was crawling carefully along the wall, toward the bridge. It was a different color, cream and pale brown, and it had three arms.

 

 

It launched from the wall, impacted against Jennifer, and clung. It chirped at her and waited for a response.

 

 

Glenda Ruth spoke to the big Motie. "Hello? Can you speak?"

 

 

The Motie watched her. "We come in peace for all mankind, and for your sake, too," Glenda Ruth said. "Can you understand me? We carry trade goods. We have the right to make binding treaties."

 

 

The newest Motie disappeared through the hole. Ignoring her.

 

 

"I can't really tell, but that thing doesn't move like it has anything to say. I don't think it's a Mediator," Glenda Ruth said. "Freddy, don't touch any controls."

 

 

"Brace yourselves," Terry said.

 

 

Glenda Ruth asked, "Why?" before she noticed that the Warrior had anchored itself with three limbs out of five. A moment later the cabin shuddered and rocked.

 

 

Freddy said, "That's torn it. Glenda Ruth, you—"

 

 

There was thrust. It built up smoothly over six or seven seconds to a tenth of a gravity and stopped.

 

 

Freddy said, "My readings don't connect to the rest of the ship. They've disconnected the cabin."

 

 

Jennifer began to laugh. "Maybe they'll bring the rest separately," she said, "and give it back."

 

 

"Oh, thank you very much. Nevertheless I fear
Hecate
's racing days are over. Any idea what's happening?"

 

 

Glenda Ruth said carefully, "Ooyay ohknay apingtay us eythey areay."

 

 

"What? Ah. What else?"

 

 

"Henry Hudson and the Medina Traders believed themselves in control here," she said. "Clearly they aren't."

 

 

"Who is?"

 

 

"I don't know, but it changes everything, doesn't it? The Empire will make no important deals with anyone who doesn't speak for all of the Moties."

 

 

"Oh. All right. Now what just happened?"

 

 

"We've been captured by a warship. They don't understand what they have, but they can see it's valuable, so they'll be asking for orders. Eventually they'll send a Mediator. Who may or may not know Anglic, Freddy."

 

 

 

 

 

"There's air," Freddy said. "Best open up the suits to save the air tanks."

 

 

Jennifer tentatively opened her faceplate. "Smells all right— hey!"

 

 

Terry Kakumi swiveled toward her. "What?"

 

 

"It's a Mediator pup!" Jennifer said. "It has to be. Look, brown and white, and not much bigger than a Watchmaker, that's what it is. Glenda Ruth—"

 

 

"Figures," Glenda Ruth said. "As soon as they knew they'd be dealing with humans, they bred a Mediator. Jennifer, I think you've got a friend for life."

 

 

 

 

 

Jennifer and the Mediator pup considered each other wonderful. Jennifer cradled it in her arms and answered when it talked. The sounds it made were nonsense, but gradually they began to sound like Jennifer herself.

 

 

When she handed the creature to Terry, it cried and tore itself free and jumped off Terry's chin to reach her again. The pup wanted no part of other humans.

 

 

So the waiting was hard for the rest of them, and the entertainment thin. Glenda Ruth considered running a history flick on the monitors. Were the other classes, the Warriors and Engineers, really so specialized that they wouldn't watch?

 

 

"They've plugged all the holes in the cabin," Freddy said. "Near as I can tell, this is normal
Hecate
air."

 

 

"Temperature's all right, too," Jennifer said. She fondled the pups's ear.

 

 

"Obvious. They tore the cabin loose and sealed it and gave us our own life support system back. We're alive but helpless. They'll have time to copy our gear before anything stops working," Glenda Ruth said. "Air doesn't worry me as much as . . ."

 

 

"Yes?"

 

 

"Freddy, there may be more battles. Over us."

 

 

"Good news from all over," Jennifer Banda said. "I always wondered what the crown felt like when the lion and the unicorn fought over it."

 

 
* * *

Eudoxus seemed calm. "My Master has been informed. She will set other Mediators to the task of regaining your companions. Our observations show that the inhabited portions of
Hecate
have been detached from the rest of the ship. The life support systems appear to be intact. Meanwhile, there is heavy message traffic throughout that region. I'll pass on more information as it develops."

 

 

Renner said, "But you can at least tell me who's involved, can't you?"

 

 

"I can tell you what we have learned of the Crimean Tartars. They were among the powers in the moon system of Mote Beta until they were cast out in a complicated contest with the major Mote Beta clan we call Persia. The Tartar group then subsisted on trade and service to other powers until they were swallowed by the Khanate. They're much smaller now, of course, and as nothing has been heard of them, we thought they must have been successfully integrated into the Khanate families. In light of their capture of your ship we must conclude that they retained some independent identity."

 

 

Renner considered the death rate implicit in the phrase
they're much smaller now
among a people who die if they can't get pregnant. "Okay. East India?"

BOOK: The Gripping Hand
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