Ringworld (12 page)

"Better watch this," Louis advised the puppeteer. "Topography could be important later."

Nessus obliged: one flat python head emerged to watch the impending landscape.

Oceans, bent lightning-forks of river, a string of mountains.

No sign of life below. You'd have to be less than a thousand miles up to see signs of civilization. The Ringworld went past, snatching detail away almost before it could be recognized. Detail wasn't going to matter, it was being pulled from beneath them. They would strike unknown, unseen territory.

Estimated intrinsic velocity of ship: two hundred miles per second. Easily enough to carry them safely out of the system, had not the Ringworld intervened.

The land rose up and sidewise, 770 miles per second sidewise. Slantwise, a salamander-shaped sea came at them, growing, underneath, gone. Suddenly the landscape blazed violet!

Discontinuity.

An instant of light, violet-white, flashbulb-bright. A hundred miles of atmosphere, compressed in an instant to a star-hot cone of plasma, slapped the Liar hard across the nose. Louis blinked.

L4Duis blinked, and they were down.

He heard Teela's frustrated complaint: "Tanj! We missed it all!"

And the puppeteer's answer: "To witness titanic events is always dangerous, usually painful, and often fatal. Be grateful for the Slaver stasis field, if not for your undependable luck."

Louis heard these things and ignored them. He was horribly dizzy as eyes tried to find a level ...

The sudden transition, from terrible fall to stable ground, would have been dizzying enough without the Liar's attitude to make it worse. The Liar was forty-five degrees short of being exactly upside down. With her cabin gravity still working perfectly, she wore the landscape like a tilted hat.

The sky was a high-noon sky from Earth's temperate zone. The landscape was puzzling: shiny-flat and translucent, with distant reddish-brown ridges. One would have to go outside to see it properly.

Louis released his crash web and stood up.

His balance was precarious; for his eyes and his inner ear disagreed on the direction of down. He took it slowly. Easy. No hurry. The emergency was over.

He turned, and Teela was in the airlock. She was not wearing a pressure suit. The inner door was just closing. He bellowed, "Teela, you silly leucoto, come out of there!"

Too late. She couldn't possibly have heard him through the closed hermetic seal. Louis sprang to the lockers.

The air samplers on the Liar's wing had been vaporized with the rest of the Liar's external sensors. He would have to go out in a pressure suit and use the chest sensors to find out if the Ringworld's air could be breathed safely.

Unless Teela collapsed and died before he could get out. Then he would know.

The outer door was opening.

Automatically the internal gravity went off in the airlock. Teela Brown dropped headfirst through the open door, clutched frantically for a door jamb, had it for just long enough to change her angle of fall. She landed on her tail instead of her skull.

Lows climbed into his pressure suit, zipped up the chest, donned the helmet and closed the clamps. Outside and overhead, Teela was on her feet, rubbing herself where she had landed. She hadn't stopped breathing, thank Finagle for his forebearance.

Louis entered the lock. No point in checking his suit's air. He'd only be in the suit long enough for the instruments to tell him if he could breath outside air.

He remembered the tilt of the ship in time to grab at the jamb as the airlock opened. As the cabin gravity went off Louis swung around, hung by his hands for an instant, and dropped.

His feet shot out from under him the moment they touched ground. He landed hard on his gluteus maximi.

The flat, grayish, translucent material beneath the ship was terribly slippery. Louis tried once to stand, then gave it up. Sitting, he examined the dials on his chest.

His helmet spoke to him in Speaker's furry voice.

"Louis."

"Yeah."

"Is the air breathable?"

"Yeah. Thin, though. Say a mile above sea level, Earth standard."

"Shall we come out?"

"Sure, but bring a line into the lock and tie it to something. Otherwise we'll never get back up. Watch out when you get down. The surface is almost frictionless."

Teela was having no trouble with the slippery surface. She stood awkwardly, with her arms folded, waiting for Louis to quit fooling around and take off his helmet.

He did. "I have something to tell you," he said. And he spoke rudely to her.

He spoke of the uncertainties in spectroanalysis of an atmosphere from two light years away. He spoke of subtle poisoin metal compounds, and strange dusts, organic wastes and catalysts, which can poison an otherwise breathable atmosphere, and which can only be detected from on actual air sample. He spoke of criminal carelessness and culpable stupidity; he spoke of the unwisdom in volunteering one's services as a guinea pig. He said it all before the aliens could leave the airlock.

Speaker came down hand over hand, landed on his feet and moved a few steps away, cat-careful, balanced like a dancer. Neesus came down gripping the rope with alternate sets of teeth. He landed in tripod position.

If either of them noticed that Teela was upset, they gave no sign. They stood below the tilted hull of the Liar, looking about them.

They were in an enormous, shallow gully. Its floor was translucent gray and perfectly flat and smooth, like a vast glass tabletop. Its borders, a hundred yards from the ship in either direction, were gentle slopes of black lava. The lava seemed to ripple and flow before Louis's eyes. It must be still hot, he decided, from the impact of the Liar's landing. The shallow lava walls stretched away behind the ship, away and away, perfectly straight, until they dwindled to a vanishing point.

Louis tried to stand up. Of the four of them he was the only one having trouble with his balance. He reached his foot, then stood precariously balanced, unable to move.

Speaker-To-Animals unsheathed his flashlight-laser and fired at a point near his feet. They watched the point of green light ... in silence. There was no crackle of solid material exploding into vapor. No steam or smoke formed where the beam struck. When Speaker released the trigger button, the light was gone instantly; the spot was not glowing, nor was it marked in any way.

Speaker delivered the verdict. "We are in a furrow plowed by our own landing. The ring foundation material must have ultimately stopped our fall. Nessus, what can you tell us about it?"

"This is something new," the puppeteer answered. "It seems to retain no heat. Yet it is not a variant on the General Products hall, nor on the Slaver stasis field."

"We'll need protection to climb the walls," said Louis. He wasn't particularly interested in the ring foundation material. Not then. "You'd better stay here, all of you, while I climb up."

After all, he was the only one wearing a heat-insulated pressure suit.

"I'll come along," said Teela. Moving without effort, she came up under his arm. He leaned heavily on her, stumbling but not falling, as they moved toward the black lava slope.

The lava was good footing, though steep. "Thanks," he said, and he started up. A moment later he realized that Teela was following him. He said nothing. The faster she learned to look before she leapt, the longer she'd live.

They were a dozen yards up the slope when Teela yelled and began dancing. Kicking high, she turned and pelted downslope. She slid like an ice skater when she hit the ring floor. Sliding, gliding, she turned with her hands on her hips and glared upward, baffled and injured and angry.

It could have been worse, Louis told himself. She could have slipped and fallen and burned her bare hands -- and he'd still have been right. He continued to climb, repressing ugly pangs of guilt.

The bank of lava was approximately forty feet high. At the top it gave way to clean white sand.

They had landed in a desert. Searching the near distance with his eyes, Louis could find no sign of vegetation-green or water-blue. That was a piece of luck. The Liar could as easily have plowed through a city.

Or through several cities! The Liar had plowed quite a furrow ...

It stretched long miles across the white sand. In the distance, beyond where that gouge ended, another began. The ship had bounced, not once, but many times. The gouge of the Liar's landing went on and on, narrowing to no more than a dotted line, a trace ... Louis let his eyes follow that trace, and he found himself looking into infinity.

The Ringworld had no horizon. There was no line where the land curved away from the sky. Rather, earth and sky seemed to merge in a region where details the size of continents would have been mere points, where all colors blended gradually into the blue of sky. The vanishing point held his eyes fixed. When he blinked, as he finally did, it was with deliberate effort.

Like the void mist of Mount Lookitthat, seen decades ago and light-centuries away ... like the undistorted deeps of space, as seen by a Belt miner in a singleship ... the Ringworld's horizon could grip the eye and the mind of a man before he was aware of the danger.

Louis turned to face into the gully. He shouted, "The world is flat!"

They looked up at him.

"We ripped quite a line coming down. I can't see that there's anything living around here, so we were lucky. Where we hit, the earth splashed; I can see a scattering of small craters, secondary meteorites, back along the way we came.

He turned. "In the other direction ..." and he stopped.

"Louis?"

"That's the biggest tanj mountain I ever saw in my life."

"Louis!"

He had spoken too softly. "A mountain!" he bellowed. "Wait'll you see it! The Ringworld engineers must have wanted to put one big mountain in the world, one mountain too big to use. Too big to grow coffee on, or trees, too big even for skiing. It's magnificent!"

It was magnificent. One mountain, roughly conical, all alone, forming no part of a chain. It had the look of a volcano, a mock-volcano, for beneath the Ringworld there was no magma to form volcanos. Its base was lost in mist. Its higher slopes showed clear through what must be thinning air, and its peak had a shiny look of snow: dirty snow, not bright enough to be clean snow. Perhaps permafrost.

There was a crystal clarity to the edges of the peak. Could it thrust clear out of the atmosphere? A real mountain that size would collapse of its own weight; but this mountain would be a mere shell of ring foundation material.

"I'm going to like the Ringworld engineers," said Louis Wu to himself. On a world built to ordered specification, there was no logical reason for such a mountain to exist. Yet every world should have at least one unclimbable mountain.

Beneath the curve of the hull, they waited for him. Their questions boiled down to one. "Did you see any sign of civilization?"

"No."

They made him describe everything he'd seen. They established directions. Spinward was back along the meteoric furrow dug by the Liar's landing. Antispinward was the opposite direction, toward the mountain. Port and starboard were to the left and right of a man facing spinward.

"Could you see any of the rim walls to port or starboard?"

"No. I don't understand why. They should have been there."

"Unfortunate," said Nessus.

"Impossible. You can see for thousands of miles up there."

"Not impossible. Unfortunate."

Again: "Could you see nothing beyond the desert?"

"No. A long way to port, I saw a trace of blue. Might have been ocean. Might have been just distance."

"No buildings?"

"Nothing."

"Contrails in the sky? Straight lines that might have been freeways?"

"Nothing."

"Did you see any sign of civilization?"

"If I had, I'd tell you. For all I know, the whole ten trillion of 'em moved to a real Dyson sphere last month."

"Louis, we must find civilization."

"I know that."

It was too obvious. They had to get off the Ringworld; and they weren't going to move the Liar by themselves. True barbarians would not be help enough, no matter how numerous or how friendly.

"There is one bright aspect to all this," said Louis Wu. "We don't have to repair the ship. If we can just get the Liar off the ring, the ring's rotation will fling it, and us, out of the star's gravity well. Out to where we can use the hyperdrive."

"But first we must find help."

"Or force help," said Speaker.

"But why do you all just stand here talking?" Teela burst out. She had been waiting silent in the circle, letting the others thrash it out. "We've got to get out of here, don't we? Why not get the flycycles out of the ship? Lets get moving! Then talk!"

"I am reluctant to leave the ship," the puppeteer stated.

"Reluctant? Are you expecting help? Is anyone the least bit interested in us? Did anyone answer our radio calls? Louis says we're in the middle of a desert. How long are we going to sit here?"

She could not reafize that Nessus had to work up his courage. And, thought Louis, she had no patience at all.

"Of course we will leave," said the puppeteer. "I merely stated my reluctance. But we must decide where we will go. Else we will not know what to take and what to leave behind."

"We head for the nearest rim wall."

"She's right," said Louis. "If there's civilization anywhere, it'll be at the rim wall. But we doin' know where it is. I should have been able to see it from up there."

"No," said the puppeteer.

"You weren't there, tanjit! You could see forever up there! Thousands of miles without a break! Wait a minute."

"The Ringworld is nearly a million UN miles across."

"I was just about to realize that," said Louis Wu. "Scale. It keeps fouling me up. I just can't visualize anything this big!"

"It will come to you," the puppeteer reassured him.

"I wonder. Maybe my brain isn't big enough to hold it. I keep remembering how narrow the ring looked from deep space. Like a thread of blue ribbon. Blue ribbon," Louis repeated, and shivered.

If each rim wall were a thousand miles high, then how far away would it need to be before Louis Wu couldn't see it at all?

Assume that Louis Wu can see through a thousand miles of dust-laden, water-vapor-laden, somewhat terrestrial air. If such air gave way to effective vacuum at forty miles ...

Then the nearest rim wall must be at least twenty-five thousand miles away.

If you flew that far on Earth, you would have returned to your starting point. But the nearest rim wall might be much further than that.

"We cannot drag the Liar behind our skycycles," Speaker was saying. "Were we attacked, we would have to cut the ship loose. Better to leave it here, near a prominent landmark."

"Who said anything about dragging the ship?"

"A good warrior thin of everything. We may end by dragging the ship in any case, if we cannot find help at the rim."