Ringworld's Children

She brought the mag ship down in the garden, six miles downhill from the Penultimates mainland habitat. As soon as shed safed the motors, Proserpina rolled out of the cabin and ran aft. A sense of order might help the aliens adjust, but shed learn less if she gave them too much time.

Isolated, shorn of her senses, imprisoned in the Isolation Zone for all of these millions of falans — Proserpina had still been able to infer general details of Ringworld history: infighting, dominance games, reshaping of world-sized stretches of topography, shifting alliances, changing genetic patterns…

There was only one Repair Center, set halfway around the Ringworld from this, the Isolation Zone. The Repair Center could be seen as the Ringworlds natural throne room. A Ghoul was in power now, and that was good. He was short of experience, and reckless (not good), and probably male. Males wandered further. Where tree-of-life was scarce, a male would find it first.

Control was what this was all about. In earlier ages she had seen conspiracy after conspiracy, and had always found a way to stay neutral without being destroyed. There was always a master of creation, and — after one awful early experiment — it was never Proserpina.

She hop-stepped over the struts of the cargo grid and slid into the rescue bubble.

The woman spoke. 'We need to talk.'

Proserpina perceived Tec-First Gauthiers impatience and was amused. The woman was young, though not young for a breeder. Her stance suggested a different gravity; her speech was a bit altered from what Proserpina had heard while eavesdropping on the Ghouls retinue. Gauthier was one of the invaders. Shed have much to tell, once she stopped refusing to tell it.

Proserpinas silence made the woman uneasy. 'We need to talk to make the translators work,' she added.

Proserpina didnt smile. She couldnt. Theyd talked while they hunted Wembleth in the spill mountain village, but theyd said nothing. Nouns, verbs: not enough to cue Tec Gauthiers speaking device. Gauthier was keeping secrets.

So was Proserpina. When she needed to talk, she would.

The brachiator watched her and did nothing. Shed been expecting subservience. The little protector must serve another, perhaps the Ghoul.

One of the males made a soft-voiced request. Proserpina didnt know his speech. Shed work it out presently. He stood like a local, a little stooped, but at home with Ringworld spin gravity. He wouldnt have much to tell. What he wanted was clear: he was hungry.

The other male was injured and immobilized, naked and helpless. He watched. Proserpina was struck by his patience. Though no protector, he was an elder, of the same species as the woman. This would be the Ghouls breeder servant, Louis Wu of the Ball Worlds.

'Youre all hungry,' Proserpina said in Interworld. The men were unsurprised, but Gauthier jumped. 'You can all tolerate fruit. Well work out details of your diet presently. Were all omnivores, I think, except you,' looking at the little one. 'How are you called?'

The woman recovered her aplomb. She gestured: 'Luis Tamasan. Wembleth. Roxanny Gauthier. Proserpina? How did you learn our language?'

'Ive hacked into a library,' Proserpina said. She saw the woman bristle: Gray Nurses computer! Stolen! 'I chose my name from your literature,' speaking now to Luis/Louis. Wu and the little protector were keeping secrets too.

She clapped her hands. 'Lets feed you. Theres fruit outside, and a stream.'

'Ill have to feed Luis,' Roxanny said.

'You must learn whats edible. Come. Luis, well be back soon. Your device is giving you nutrient, but its best if your digestive systems are exercised.'

'Thank you,' he said.

Roxanny looked dubious, but she went.

Roxanny followed the protector. Wembleth followed Roxanny, holding Hanumans hand. The ape scrambled along faster than his little legs were up to.

From the back the joker looked like a small, scrawny, bald woman. She stood a meter and a half tall. All of her joints were swollen; her back was a column of pebbles. Roxanny knew that she should be afraid of the creature, but she couldnt feel intimidated.

Proserpina was talking to Wembleth in Interspeak. Wembleth chattered in his own language, and Roxanny listened to his translator with half her attention.

'Mother abandoned us. I never asked Father about it; he was touchy there, but I listened. They both used to go exploring. One day she was just gone. Some species do that, turn vicious and solitary, like the Swamp Folk. Friendly and curious when theyre young, great rishathra, then something triggers, and they bulk up and change attitude and go off into the swamp. I was afraid Id do the same. Interbreeding is rare, and you dont know what youll get.'

'Have you rished with Swamp People?'

'With a Swamp Girl until she mated, and afterward we were friends. Then she got pregnant, and she went off alone to raise the children.'

There were low buildings in the forest. Trees masked them. Trees grew from the roofs, or up the side of a minaret. A huge tree grew through the hollow core of a ring two stories high.

Shadows ticked at the corners of her vision. Tree shadows wouldnt move in this weird place where it was always noon or night. Roxanny became sure that there were animals in the forest, watching them.

Proserpina was fast, darting among the trees, plucking and gathering plants in varied colors and shapes. 'Try this,' she said to Luiss long-armed pet, setting a purple blob in his hands. It resembled an eggplant, but it sprayed red juice when Hanuman bit into it. Hanuman buried his face in it.

'Here. Here.' Proserpina distributed other fruits, and watched for reactions. Roxannys yellow globe was bitter. She dropped it. A handful of green cherries was edible, but sour around the seeds. Wembleth liked the inner rim of a mottled yellow ring — he had to fit his head inside it — and Hanumans purple blob.

'Roxanny, is this place very different from your Ball Worlds?'

'Very.'

'How?'

'I havent been here long. Im still looking.' Roxanny was reluctant to speak. Sooner or later the protector would be asking questions she shouldnt answer. Still — werent there things she could learn from a protector?

So she temporized. 'We learned a lot before any ship landed. Its always noon here. I expect that could drive a person nuts. If you ever saw a sunset, it would be the end of the world.'

'And a mining system would hit vacuum. Thats not all bad. Industries can sometimes use vacuum.'

'A year ago you were shooting down every ship that came near the Ringworld. Why did you do that? Why did you stop?'

'There was a protector Vampire in the Repair Center. He did the shooting. Another replaced him.'

'And now its a kinder, gentler time?'

'Not while youre playing with antimatter, dear one! That will have to stop! You could destroy us all, and yourselves too. I think you must be schitz. Roxanny, you flinched.'

'Did I?'

'Are you schitz? Were you schitz? Were. How were you cured?'

Roxanny snarled, 'I stopped taking the stuff!'

'Stuff?'

'The Amalgamated Regional Militia used to draft schitzes for the lower echelons. Weve tried to breed that trait out of ourselves, so its hard to find a real schitz, but there are biochemicals that can imitate the schitz state. You see things, think thoughts, hear voices that a citizen never dreams. I took the stuff during training. I can get a shot during a mission, it makes things easier, but I try to stay off it. Im not schitz, Proserpina. My genes are clean.' Roxanny clamped her lips closed. This was far more personal than anything shed intended to reveal.

'Lower echelons? Do any of the top ranks go schitz? No, never mind. Do warriors such as yourselves have children, Roxanny?'

'No. I cant. Ive had my shot.'