Man-Kzin Wars XII
created by Larry Niven
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2009 by Larry Niven.
"Echoes of Distant Guns" copyright © 2009 Matthew Joseph Harrington; "Aquila Advenio" copyright © 2009 by Hal Colebatch & Matthew Joseph Harrington; "The Trooper and the Triangle" copyright © 2009 by Hal Colebatch; "String" copyright © 2009 by Hal Colebatch & Matthew Joseph Harrington; "Peace and Freedom" copyright © 2009 by Matthew Harrington; "Independent" copyright © 2009 by Paul Chafe.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
A Baen Books Original
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com
ISBN 10: 4165-9141-9
ISBN 13: 978-1-4165-9141-2
Cover art by Stephen Hickman
First printing, February 2009
Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Man-Kzin wars XII / created by Larry Niven.
p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-9141-2 (hc)
ISBN-10: 1-4165-9141-9 (hc)
1. Science fiction, American. 2. Kzin (Imaginary place)—Fiction. 3. Life on other planets—Fiction. 4. Space warfare—Fiction. 5. Science fiction, Australian. 6. Science fiction, Canadian. I. Colebatch, Hal, 1945– II. Harrington, Matthew J. III. Chafe, Paul, 1965– IV. Niven, Larry. V. Title: Man-Kzin wars 12. VI. Title: Man-Kzin wars twelve.
PS648.S3M3754 2009
813'.0876208—dc22
2008043892
Pages by Joy Freeman (www.pagesbyjoy.com)
Printed in the United States of America
The Man-Kzin Wars Series
Created by Larry Niven
The Man-Kzin Wars
The Houses of the Kzinti
Man-Kzin Wars V
Man-Kzin Wars VI
Man-Kzin Wars VII
Choosing Names: Man-Kzin Wars VIII
Man-Kzin Wars IX
Man-Kzin Wars X: The Wunder War
Man-Kzin Wars XI
Man-Kzin Wars XII
The Best of All Possible Wars
Destiny's Forge by Paul Chafe
Also by Larry Niven
Fallen Angels (with Jerry Pournelle & Michael Flynn)
Echoes of Distant Guns
Matthew Joseph Harrington
I: Silent Partners
Quartermaster noticed the Named were getting upset again, and quietly set his subordinates and their slaves to checking fabrication procedures and inventory. A few days later, his guess proved right, but far beyond his expectations: Commandant's Voice announced that a Hthnarrit would soon be arriving on Fuzz, bringing a fleet to be supplied.
This was exciting. Quartermaster had never seen a Patriarch's Companion, nor met anyone who had. He signed out a disintegrator to keep the landing field clear, it being seeding time again, but otherwise stayed out of the way and let his staff do their jobs. Clearing the field was the only entertaining part anyway—the tufty airborne seeds that everything threw out burned spectacularly when their molecules started breaking up.
When Gnyr-Hoth's own ship had set down, and all formal courtesies had been exchanged, the Companion's first question was, "Who arranged the fireworks display while we landed?"
"Oh, that was only Quartermaster clearing debris off the field," replied Hur-Commandant. "The local plant life produces large amounts of fuzzy seeds on a regular basis. He ignites them with a disintegrator."
"Clever. Take us to him." Gnyr-Hoth turned to pick out a couple of kzintoshi from his entourage, waved the rest onward, and turned back to say, "Which way?"
Hur-Commandant hadn't earned his partial Name by being slow to adapt. "That building, Gnyr-Hoth." He was extremely startled when the Hthnarrit immediately began sprinting toward it, but promptly followed suit.
Quartermaster saw the group approaching, had no idea why, and told his staff, "Disperse throughout the warehouse. Fabrication Chief, if I'm in trouble, you're in charge. Wait in the office."
"Yes, sir.—They don't seem hostile, sir."
"Thanks," said Quartermaster, who had no ziirgrah sense at all. "Go anyway." He turned to face the door as his deputy left. When the Hthnarrit entered, Quartermaster came to attention and saluted, then waited to be addressed.
Gnyr-Hoth didn't particularly look like one of the 2,048 deadliest kzinti alive. He was a little smaller than average, not very heavy, and had no interesting scars . . . though that last fact suggested that most of the scars from his duels had been left on other, larger, kzintoshi. He set his feet very lightly, as if concerned about damaging the concrete floor, and his movements were almost decorative. "You're Quartermaster?" he said, having noted Quartermaster's inspection.
"Sir, I am."
"Tell me what you're thinking. Be informal."
"I . . . was wondering if you'd ever danced in a play, sir."
Hur-Commandant's ears folded about halfway shut. (But nobody else seemed disturbed.)
Gnyr-Hoth didn't object to the implication that he might have been employed, and as an entertainer at that. "No. One of my combat instructors sent me to a school for dancers. I was walking too loudly. Innovative teacher, won the Name Kchula."
Quartermaster's ears opened wide with surprise for a moment, then he went back to rigid attention.
"Remain informal, Quartermaster. You knew him?"
"Possibly, sir. The exec of our division on Chunquen-aga was Named Kchula. He had very dark stripes, and a little hole just near the bottom of the fan of his left ear, sir."
"I'm flattered he never had it fixed. It was as close as I ever got—lost my temper with him one day. Worst beating I ever had. You were Second Battle Specialist of the 4416th Infantry?"
"Why, yes, sir. Were you there?"
"No, in those days I was in the Grand Admiral's Guard. But that's a distinctive scar, and everyone in the sector heard about the Hero who fought on with the hole in his head. Tough opponents there, constantly practicing."
"That was you?" Hur-Commandant asked in astonishment.
"Yes, sir," Quartermaster replied, the scar between his right eye and ear suddenly itching horribly.
"Why don't you have a Name?" Hur-Commandant wondered.
"After I got out of regeneration I had no urge to fight, sir," Quartermaster said. "Some kind of brain damage."
One of the Hthnarrit's entourage spoke: "He needs to scratch."
"Go ahead," Gnyr-Hoth said.
Quartermaster scratched the scar gratefully and thoroughly, and took the opportunity to inspect the new speaker surreptitiously.
This one was built the way Quartermaster had expected a Patriarch's Companion to be: heavily muscled, one of the biggest
