Free The Mote in God's Eye by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle

nonterrestrial world. We can hope. Captain, would you keep me posted on what is happening?’
    “I will probably not have the time,” Blaine said, choosing the most civil of several answers that occurred to him.
    “Yes, of course, I didn’t mean personally. I only want access to information on our progress. At my age I dare not move from this rubber bathtub for the duration of our voyage. How long will we be under four gees?”
    “One hundred and twenty-five hours. One twenty-four, now.”
    “Thank you, Captain.” Bury vanished from the Screen.
    Rod rubbed thoughtfully at the knot on his nose. Did Bury know his status aboard MacArthur ? It couldn’t be important. He called Sally’s cabin.
    She looked as if she hadn’t slept in a week or smiled in years. Blaine said, “Hello, Sally. Sorry you came?”
    “I told you I can take anything you can take,” Sally said calmly. She gripped the arms of her chair and stood up. She let go and spread her arms to show how capable she was.
    “Be careful,” Blaine said, trying to keep his voice steady. “No sudden moves. Keep your knees straight. You can break your back just sitting down. Now stay erect, but reach behind you. Get both the chair arms in your hands before you try to bend at the waist—”
    She didn’t believe it was dangerous, not until she started to sit down. Then the muscles in her arms knotted, panic flared in her eyes, and she sat much too abruptly, as if MacArthur ’s gravity had sucked her down.
    “Are you hurt?”
    “No,” she said. “Only my pride.”
    “Then you stay in that chair, damn your eyes! Do you see me standing up? You do not. And you won’t!”
    “All right.” She turned her head from side to side. She was obviously dizzy from the jolt.
    “Did you get your servants off?”
    “Yes. I had to trick them—they wouldn’t have gone without my baggage.” She laughed an old woman’s laugh. “I’m wearing everything I own until we get to New Caledonia.”
    “Tricked them, did you? The way you tricked me. I should have had Kelley put you off.” Rod’s voice was bitter. He knew he looked twice his age, a cripple in a wheel chair. “All right, you’re aboard. I can’t put you off now.”
    “But I may be able to help. I am an anthropologist.” She winced at the thought of trying to get up again. “Can I get you on the intercom?”
    “You’ll get the middie of the watch. Tell him if you really need to talk to me. But, Sally—this is a warship. Those aliens may not be friendly. For God’s sake remember that; my watch officers haven’t time for scientific discussion in the middle of a battle!”
    “I know that. You might give me credit for a little sense.” She tried to laugh. “Even if I don’t know better than to stand up at four gees.”
    “Yeah. Now do me another favor. Get into your gee bath.”
    “Do I have to take my clothes off to use it?”
    Blaine couldn’t blush; there wasn’t enough blood flowing to his head. “It’s a good idea, especially if you’ve got buckles. Turn off the vision pickup on the phone.”
    “Right.”
    “And be careful. I could send one of the married ratings to help—”
      “No, thank you.”
    “Then wait. We’ll have a few minutes of lower gee at intervals. Don’t get out of that chair alone in high gee!”
    She didn’t even look tempted. One experience was enough.
     
    “ Lermontov ’s calling again,” Whitbread announced.
    “Forget it. Don’t acknowledge.”
    “Aye aye, sir. Do not acknowledge.”
    Rod could guess what the cruiser wanted. Lermontov wanted first crack at the intruder—but MacArthur ’s sister ship wouldn’t even get close to the aliens before the approach to the sun was just too close. Better to intercept out where there was some room.
    At least that’s what Rod told himself. He could trust Whitbread and the communications people; Lermontov ’s signals wouldn’t be in the log.
    Three and a half days. Two minutes of 1.5 gee every four hours to