The Ringworld Engineers

“More than we ever thought.” Vala looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t.

The male answered. “The world is doomed to fiery destruction in not many falans. Only Louis Wu can save us.” He smiled, showed a daunting expanse of white wedge-shaped teeth. His breath was that of a basilisk.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic,” Louis said. “Do you believe me?”

“Strange events can spark an urge to prophecy in the insane. We know that you carry tools not known elsewhere. Your race is not known either. But the world is large, and we do not know all of it. Your furry friend’s race is stranger yet.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Save us! We dare not interfere.” The ghoul lost a little of his grin, though his lips still didn’t meet. (That would take a conscious effort. Those big teeth … ) “Why should we care if you are insane? The activities of other species rarely interfere with our own lives. In the end they all belong to us.”

“I wonder if you aren’t the real rulers of the world.” Louis said that for diplomatic relations, then wondered uneasily if it might be true.

The woman answered. “Many species may claim to rule the world, or their own part of it. Would we lay claim to the forest tops of the Hanging People? Or to the airless heights of the Spill Mountain People? And what species would want our domain?” She was laughing at him, that was certain.

Louis said, “There’s a Repair Center for the world somewhere. Do you know where?”

“No doubt you are right,” the male said, “but we do not know where it might be.”

“What do you know about the rim wall? And the Great Oceans?”

“There are too many seas. I know not which you mean. There was activity along the rim wall before the great flames first appeared.”

“Was there! What kind of activity?”

“Many lifting devices raised equipment beyond even the level of the Spill Mountain People. There were City Builders and Spill Mountain People in great number, many other species in lesser number. They worked right at the upper edge of the world. Perhaps you can tell us the meaning of it all.”

Louis was dazed. “Tanj dammit. They must have been …” Remounting the attitude jets, and he probably didn’t want to say so. So much power and ambition, so close, could be bad for a puppeteer’s nerves. “That’s a long way for carrion-eaters to pass messages.”

“Light travels farther than that. Does this news affect your predictions of doom?”

“I’m afraid not.” There might well be a repair crew in action somewhere, but they had almost run out of Bussard ramjets to be remounted. “But with the great flames acting, we should have more than the seven or eight falans I thought we had.”

“Good news. What will you do now?”

For a moment Louis was tempted to abandon the floating city and deal strictly with the ghouls. But he’d come too far, and after all, there were ghouls everywhere. “I’ll wait for night and then go up. Vala, your share of the cloth is in the vehicle. I’d be obliged if you don’t show it to anyone or tell anyone about me for … a couple of turns should do it. My share you can dig up in a falan if nobody comes for it. And I’ve got this.” He patted a vest pocket, where a square yard of superconductor was folded into the bulk of a handkerchief.

“I wish you wouldn’t take it to the city,” Vala said.

“After all, they’ll think its just cloth unless I tell them different,” Louis said. It was almost a lie. Louis intended to use the superconductor.

The ghouls stared when he took off his shorts—adding detail to his description, no doubt, to help them find his species’ home on the Ringworld. He do

The female suddenly asked, “How did you convince a Machine People woman that you were sane?”

Vala told her, while Louis do

“Don’t count on me. Try to find the Repair Center. Spread the word. Try questioning the bandersnatchi—the great white beasts who live in the great swamp to spinward.”

“We know of them.”

“Good. Vala—”

“I go now to tell how my companions died. We may not meet again, Louis.” Valavirgillin picked up the empty pack and walked quickly away.

“We should escort her,” the female ghoul said. They left.

They hadn’t said good luck. Why? The way they lived … they might all be fatalists. Luck would mean nothing to them.

Louis sca

Apparently the puppeteer wasn’t.

Louis stretched out under the shelf fungus. The air seemed cleaner near the ground. He sipped meditatively at the fuel-and-nectar bottle Vala had left him.

What were the ghouls? Their position in the ecology seemed very secure. How had they kept their intelligence? Why would they need intelligence? Perhaps they had to fight for their prerogatives on occasion. Or for respect. Complying with a thousand local religions could also require considerable verbal facility.

More to the point: how could they help him? Was there a ghoulish enclave somewhere that remembered the source of the immortality drug? Which, by hypothesis, was made from Pak tree-of-life root …

One thing at a time. Try the city first.

The pillars of light thi

The shadow farm seemed deserted. Louis heard only the wind. Standing on the shelf fungus gave him a glimpse of distant windows flickering as if with firelight: housing for the farmers around the perimeter.

Louis touched the lift knob on his flying belt and went up.

Chapter 19

The Floating City

At something over a thousand feet the smell of fresh air became more pronounced, and the floating city was around him. He circled the blunt tip of an inverted tower: four levels of dark windows, and a garage below that. The big garage door was closed and locked. Louis circled, looking for a broken window. There weren’t any.

These windows must have survived for eleven hundred years. Probably he couldn’t break one if he tried. He didn’t want to enter the city as a burglar anyway.

Instead, he let himself rise along the sewer pipe, hoping to gain privacy that way. There were ramps around him now, but no street lights anywhere. He guided himself to a walkway and settled on it. Now he felt less conspicuous.

There was nobody in sight. The broad ribbon of poured stone curved away among the buildings, left and right, up and down, putting out pseudopods at random. With a thousand feet of empty space below, there were no guardrails. Halrloprillalar’s people must be closer to their brachiating past than Earth’s people. Louis strolled toward the lights, keeping nervously to the center of the walk.

Where was everybody? The city had an insular look, Louis thought. There was housing in plenty, and ramps between the housing areas, but where were the shopping centers, the playhouses, the bars, the malls, parks, sidewalk cafés? Nothing advertised itself, and everything was behind walls.

Either he should find someone to introduce himself to, or he should be hiding. What about that glass slab with the dark windows? If he entered from above, he could make certain it was deserted.

Someone came down the walk toward him.

Louis called, “Can you understand me?” and heard his words translated into the Machine People tongue.

The stranger answered in the same language. “You should not walk about the city in darkness. You might fall.” He was closer now. His eyes were huge; he was not of the City Builder species. He carried a slender staff as long as himself. With the light behind him, Louis could see no more of him. “Show your arm,” he said.