Free Ringworld's Children by Larry Niven Page A

thousands of tiny probes.
    Louis heard a howl to melt bones and a rhythmic thudding sound, but he didn't walk around the kitchen wall to see. It was just Acolyte attacking a wall, getting some exercise.
    The ship was jigging and jogging across the sky, but only the jittery starscape showed that. Needle had tremendous acceleration, but its cabin gravity was up to the challenge. Then again, so were the probes. Nothing was attacking Needle, but every species wanted to look.
    What would they see? A #3 General Products hull, puppeteer made, and a puppeteer in the command section. Needle should be safe. Most LEs wanted to avoid frightening a puppeteer.
    The black spot that hid the sun was growing larger.
    It was going to be a hell of a ride.
    A sudden glare blinked white-black. Acolyte asked, sarcastically, "Missiles don't carry antimatter?"
    "Maybe it's a ship hit by an antimatter bullet. The light looked right. I'm guessing, of course. Hindmost, keep dodging."
    The puppeteer's voice sang, "As opposed to what? Distract yourself. What if they kill Tunesmith? Will you choose another protector? Or choose none?"
    "How's he doing?"
    The Hindmost popped up a virtual window.
    Shoals of missiles and ships were converging in a shell around the mile-wide crystal sphere. Lasers and bombs sparkled among them. Against all sense, a ship had fired on Long Shot, and now others were firing too. The sphere turned, bright-dark-bright in laser light, its four archaic rocket motors flaring.
    Then Long Shot was gone.
    "Dodged into hyperspace," Louis said. "Crazy bastard. He'll lose them if he didn't get himself eaten."
    "What will you do if Tunesmith is dead?" the Hindmost persisted.
    "There's too much tree-of-life around. I have to do something," Louis said. "Otherwise the protectors on the rim wall will take over everything. That's no good. They're evolved too far out of the mainstream of hominid development, and they don't know enough. Hindmost, a Ghoul is still the best choice. They live a jackal lifestyle. Whatever lives is theirs eventually. They do best for their own kind by making life better and safer for everyone. Aside from that, their heliograph system is wonderful. We need it."
    The Hindmost said, "Tunesmith is arrogant and manipulative."
    The black blotch covering the sun expanded and swallowed them.
    -- discontinuity --
     

Chapter 8
    For two days Gray Nurse had been accelerating, then merely falling toward the sun and the Ringworld. The carrier would whip past the rim wall in a few hours. In that moment there would be an option. A linear motor ran the length of Gray Nurse's hull. Fighter-lurker ships could be backfired into range of the Ringworld itself.
    The crews waited.
    Whatever had gone on in that Kzinti-held patch of comets and vacuum, it took place far above Gray Nurse, half-hidden in a fog of ice crystals. Fighter crews could speculate, of course. Explorer probes were on their way to do forensic work. Meanwhile the attackers were in view and running.
    "The little one is a GP hull," 'Tec-Two Claus Raschid said. "Might be anyone."
    "Anyone but puppeteers," Roxanny said. "They'd never have the nerve."
    "But the big, slow one, that's Long Shot"
    The rest of the Fringe War had taken notice. Both ships were now surrounded by probes from half a dozen civilizations. Feeds were shown on the common-worn monitors. A Pierson's puppeteer was at the helm of the GP#3 ship. Long Shot's pilot looked like a man.
    "Long Shot's ours," Claus said. "This might be our chance to get it back."
    The crewfolk watched the feeds. A sudden burst of firepower surrounded Long Shot-- threatening an experimental ship of inestimable value -- and Roxanny smiled at their cursing. Her smile slipped and the cursing stopped when the crystal sphere simply disappeared.
    The voice of Command spoke at last. "Board your ships! All fighter crews board your ships now!"
    Gone like a soap bubble, Roxanny thought. How? But she was scurrying along the corridor toward her