The Ringworld Throne

Tegger sighed, relieved that such a nightmare could be solved so easily. “Where, then?”

“I have half a notion. Come.”

They ran a zigzag path through a system of alleys, climbed through and along pipes to reach a higher level, working their way up.

Warvia led the way over the banquet hall and down, and farther up, and behind the chimney, and around, on their bellies now, toward a sound of metal being tortured.

The noise stopped.

Warvia gestured him back. She stood and stepped forth. “Very good. Now how will you get it down?”

Harpster and Grieving Tube finished lowering the great ceramic slab onto its back. They had cut it no more than a thumblength thick; it must be quite fragile, Warvia assumed. The front of it was a bronze web of intricate geometric form.

Harpster said, “We do love our secrets. Still, this slab isn’t going down unless in a cruiser. We’ll have to tell the Boss. So. How much do you know?”

“I saw you cutting it. Looked it over after you led Tegger away. What is it? Why do you want it?”

Harpster said, “We think it’s an eye and an ear and maybe other senses, too. We think it belongs to Louis Wu and his off-Arch companions.”

“We think they were the ones who recentered the sun,” Grieving Tube said. “That would make them immensely powerful. We could tell them how to use that power, if we could communicate with them—”

“But Louis Wu popped into some kind of flying tube. Later our sources saw that tube, or another such, hovering near the Shadow Nest. Night People elsewhere report more such webs. It must be for spying.”

Warvia asked, “You’ll try to talk to it?”

“We’ll try that. If nothing answers, then we’ll take it to where it can see what we want seen.”

“Tegger and I can’t go home,” Warvia said carefully. “If we had Night People to speak for us as heroes, we might find entry into another tribe of Red Herders. With that in mind, where do you intend to travel?”

Harpster began to bark laughter. Grieving Tube snapped at him. “Fool! They need not come all the way. Warvia, we—No, tell me this instead. How much shock can you stand?”

Warvia beckoned. Tegger came into view. No point in hiding now, he was laughing too hard. He said, “If you think you can still shock us, go ahead and try.”

Harpster began to talk.

Chapter 17

The War Against the Dark

Tremendous tilted faces looked out of the rock. Two Red Herders and two even larger Night People spoke secrets none could hear, for an audience—

Louis Wu was the only one laughing.

Louis tore his gaze free of the Hindmost’s show. For the locals it must seem that they were watching gods decide their fate.

The Sailing People had run.

He saw no trace of Tunesmith or Kazarp.

Weavers were all about him, but most of them were asleep. Torpid Weaver children were trying to keep their eyes open. Tomorrow they’d know they had dreamed. Louis Wu was alone before these tremendous faces.

He said in Interspeak, for the Hindmost’s benefit, “Those Ghouls came a long way to steal a webeye. They really must want to talk to you.”

The view changed. For the blink of an eye it became an infrared map of the village pool: black water, faintly glowing Weavers asleep on low tables, the brighter glow of Louis Wu’s naked skin … and a lacework glow behind him, and another alongside the Council House.

Kazarp and Tunesmith hidden in tall grass. The Ghouls are watching, too. Will they recognize themselves?

Huge faces dimmed. The webeye and its brick backing were being set down in darkness. Now the cliff was only dark rock.

The sun was no more than a sliver of light palely glowing through cloud when Valavirgillin rolled out to see what the commotion was about.

It was about Reds and Ghouls guiding four Grass Giants who were carrying a slab of cut brick down Stair Street. A slab of brick with a bronze web splayed across it. Heavy, from the way they moved. They eased it up to Cruiser Two and set one edge on the ru

The Ghouls began to talk. The Reds wanted to interrupt, but got little chance.

When all conversation was done, the web and its backing rested on the floor of the payload shell in Cruiser Two. Sleepy Gleaners had come out to join the excitement. Sleepy Ghouls were crawling under an awning. And the way down seemed almost clear.

Somewhere behind black clouds, Valavirgillin thought, shadow must be sliding away to reveal the sun. The only light that reached through the storm was a frenzied dance of lightning.

Four Gleaners and Valavirgillin marched through the rain to the top of Stair Street. They entered the bubble, followed by every hominid save the Ghouls, and climbed the giant steps into that amazing kitchen.

Silack fitted himself into the moving box. Only the other Gleaners knew how he had been chosen over the rest. The flamer fitted easily into his arms.

“Fire it at a wall. Or a vampire, or anything,” Manack told him. He was jittery, and he held a Machine People handgun. It took both hands. “I’m coming right down after you with nothing but this, and when I get down, I want light. I want to see what comes at us. Your first move when the door opens, give me light.”

They closed the door on Silack and flipped the switch down. There was light enough to watch the line vibrating; noise enough too.

The motor noise stopped.

They waited.

Manack tried to move the switch. It didn’t respond to easy pressure. Vala restrained him from using more force.

The switch clicked up by itself, and the line began to vibrate. They waited while the box rose into view.

Silack rolled out and sucked air for a great shout. “Light!” he bellowed. Perilack threw herself at him and hugged him tight. He talked over her shoulder. “Manack, I’m sorry, but the panel was right there, and I thought I might want to leave fast when I turned the switches on, and flup, was I right! I turned on all the lights at once, and the—”

Perilack cried, “They’re on?”

“Yes,” said Silack, and his audience ran away.

Valavirgillin was gasping and staggering as she reached Ramp Street. The Gleaners and Reds were far ahead of her and the other Machine People. The Grass Giants were pounding along behind them.

Ramp Street’s lights burned through the rain. They swarmed down the ramp.

There was light below, too, and a traffic jam out of nightmare. Light blazed pitilessly on the great central structure, on sage and windows and ru

Silack was shouting, “As soon as the lights came on, the vampires ran every way there was. Two or three tens of them decided the offices were a cave! There’s a big space in there that overlooks the stage on one side and the speaking platform on the other—Harpster was right about that—and co

“You greedy flup-sculptor, you!”

“I know, Manack—”

“You took all the glory!”

“—I was very, very glad I still had the box. They came in, I flamed them, I went up.”

Murderous fights were developing between vampires who wanted in and those who wanted out. Three turns above, Grass Giants were starting to cheer them on. In a moment they’d be taking bets.

Valavirgillin a