and that they have evidently taken missiles from another cat-ship they destroyed. And there is the ramscoop- field.”
“The ramscoop-field is generated ahead. The laser points behind. Neither can be moved much… Not fast enough…”
“We’ll have to hope they’ve got other weapons operational by now. They’ve had time to think…”
They were still struggling with plans when Telepath returned. “Now you have awakened the cowardly monkey, what have you achieved?” he demanded.
They discussed anti-beam defenses and how they could gain time to escape. There were intact hexagons of logic-lattice on the arms and torso of Selina’s suit, and on Rick’s, which Telepath also retrieved, but at present there was nothing they could ask them.
“No choice but action now!” said Telepath. “We close with the Writing Stick! Battle soon! Place for us in that battle! Urrr!”
He struck an heroic attitude. “Let us urinate from the heights on fear! What do all our legends and epics tells us? Lord Chmeee, Krrarrit, Lord Dragga-Skrull, Lost Skragga-Chrnee, Ffeelillth-Wirrh! Zirrow-Graff Grragz’s Third Gunner! Kzintosh Heroes without number, all defied prodigious enemies and great odds! So our race may face the Fanged God without fear! Does not even your Bearded God approve of courage?”
“Let us see what capital we have,” said Rick at last. “Selina is a navigator-pilot. I know both computers and reasoning machines.
“If I could have one of this ship’s main computer outlets to work on, it is just possible something could be done. Is there an input to a central data-base?”
“Of course. They are all over the ship.”
“And in the boats? They are connected?”
“Of course. The boats and also the cruisers and other ships riding in the hull.”
“And reasoning machines? Planar lattices?”
Telepath read his mind.
“No,” he said. “Heroes use machines when large numbers must be dealt with at great speed, or to enhance hunting senses. We do not use machines to tell us how to make decisions. We are not monkeys.”
“That is what I hoped. So you have computers only, with a central computer net?”
“Yes.”
“Could that be jinxed somehow? To create an impression that things are not what they seem? We need a… diversion. Something to give us time.”
“What diversion?”
A simulated emergency. Computer failure might be easiest. But it would have to be a lifesystem-threatening situation that would occupy all attention.”
“The lifesystem has ample back-ups. So does the computer system. This ship was built for battle, though it has never fought aliens in deep space. There are redundancies in all essential systems.”
“Never fought aliens?”
“No. Only your Plant Eater. We have beaten down planetary defenses and we have landed infantry on some primitive worlds. Some aboard have fought other Kzin. But that does not matter now.”
“Oh, yes it does! You mean this is actually a crew without much experience of war! What hazards does your kind fear?”
“None! Heroes fear nothing save dishonor!” The reply was automatic and instantaneous, but Selina felt somehow sure that it was not completely true.
“Then what hazards does your command bear most in mind now?”
“Tracker is in many minds. Unknown weapons. Zraar-Admiral and Weeow-Captain are puzzled still how weaponless monkeys could react in time to destroy a Kzin scout-cruiser. They thought your ship would fight, though it did not. Zraar-Admiral has wondered if you monkeys are controlled by hidden masters. There are some who fear ambushes. Even Zraar-Admiral has wondered in secret lately if the recording we found in Tracker was not part of a trap to make us think that that battle was a freak only-that the real enemy is formidable and different.”
“Then an attack on this ship,” said Rick. “That would be a diversion.”
“An attack with what?” asked Telepath. “Who would attack?”
“We would. We need to paint a picture of an attack.”
“I do not understand, monkey. Is your mind still sick?” Telepath lashed his tail in frustration and disgust. “Heal him!” He ordered Selina. “You may mate with him if that will calm him, but be swift!”
“I don’t think his mind is sick,” said Selina. “Let him explain.”
“We cannot attack a…“ Telepath spoke for all the control he could muster. There were no words for “capital ship” or “Dreadnought” left in the humans’ vocabularies. “Even if we obtained weapons. Suicide gesture only. Urrr. Is that what you intend?… Suicide gesture might,” he added thoughtfully, “be best option.”
“We could attack it through its computers.” said Rick. Telepath stared at him. “Go on,” he said at last, “but I do not understand. We could, perhaps, shut down main computers for short time. But back-up computers phase in automatically. I told you there are many redundancies. We would have time to do nothing.”
“I would need your help,” said Rick, “Can you extract knowledge from the minds of your computer programmers so that they are unaware of it.”
“I believe so. I am good Telepath. You hear how well I speak your language. I am good at taking knowledge from Kzintosh or monkey.”
“What weapons does this ship carry inside itself?”
“The infantry weapons-guns, beams, chemical weapons, missile launchers… The ship’s heavy weapons are under Weapons Officer’s control.”
“The infantry weapons… they would have to be comparatively low-yield?”
“There are some chemical bombs, yes. Weapons the infantry carry…“
Rick was speaking quickly now: “Any diversion should combine events: bombs exploded inside the hull to simulate missile impacts, and from the boat a program loaded into the main computers. With your knowledge of your computers that should be possible. The bomb-damage would also help disguise the fact the boat was missing.”
“Where would we get bombs?”
“Would not the boats carry weapons? The very boat you plan to escape in?”
“How do you know this?”
“I don’t know. There is a kind of inevitability about it, once you begin to think in these terms. It would naturally have weapons.”
“Your own boat did not.”
“No, of course not.”
“Yes,” Telepath nodded. “It may be as I suspected. But they would not believe if I told them. May be wrong cave at last. Stupid. Stupid.”
“Meanwhile,” said Rick, “We must do some creative programming. Not disable the main computers of this ship, but Tanj them: place an image of an attacker in them. It must appear on the screens suddenly as we escape. Can you know the ship’s computers well enough to do that?”
“I told you I am good Telepath. I can know them for a time. I can read the programmers’ and system controllers’ minds, take years of knowledge and training and make them my own. Also Navigator, who has access to Fleet computer banks. Everything.
“What none aboard deign to realize is that only I, the addict, may know everything about this ship if I choose. I have the ability to read Kzintosh minds by stealth, if need be, stealthy as any lurker in tall grass. For I also have a war, though they do not know it… If a computer can be programmed, I can extract knowledge to program it. If boat is to be flown, if weapon is to be operated, I can extract knowledge to do it!
“And yet they would not let me breed. I have read in your minds of monkeys on your homeworld who have a distant glimmering of the World of the Eleventh Sense, the smallest hint of Telepath’s power. And you give these monkeys recognition and place and encourage them to breed!”
“I am also a programmer,” said Rick. His voice had become calm and precise now, no longer with the need to control fear but with the need to discipline and marshal rapid thoughts. Perhaps even to calm Telepath, wondered
