Man-Kzin Wars III Larry Niven (classic books for 10 year olds .TXT) 📖

bottle of pineapple wine, which I s’pose you’ve never had. Good stuff, dry, trust me. We’ll talk and get better acquainted. I’d love to hear about your travels.”

“No, thank you,” she said, still good-humored. “Entanglements, innocent or not, on an expedition like this, they are unwise, don’t you agree? And I have . . . private things to think about when I am by myself.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “Tomorrow, besides the galley, can I assist in other of your duties?”

Since his hopes had not been especially high, they were not dashed. He beamed “ ‘Auwē nō ho‘i ē!’ By all manner of means.”

Tyra left him and went down a corridor. The ship throbbed around her, an underlying susurrus of ventilators, mechanisms, power. Dorcas came the opposite way. They halted. “How do you do,” the mate greeted. Her expression was reserved.

“Hallo,” Tyra responded. “Are you in a hurry?”

Dorcas unbent to the extent of a lopsided grin. “In space we have time to burn, or else bare microseconds. What can I do for you?”

“You were so busy earlier, you and Robert, there was no opportunity to ask. A minute here, please. I want to be useful aboard. Kam lets me help him, but that takes two or three hours a daycycle at most. Can I do anything else?”

Dorcas frowned. “I can’t think of anything. Most of our work is highly skilled.”

“I could maybe learn a little, if somebody will teach me. I do have some space experience.”

“That will be up to the somebody, subject to the captain’s okay. We have an ample supply of books, music, shows, games.”

“I brought my own. Finally, I thought, I shall read War and Peace. But—well, thank you. Don’t worry, I will be all right.”

“Feel free. But do not interfere.” Dorcas stared un-blinkingly into Tyra’s gaze. “You understand, I’m sure.”

“Of course. I will try to annoy nobody. Thank you.” They parted.

Those on mass detector watch didn’t count, unless something registered in the globe. Then anyone else got out of the chamber fast. Tyra found Carita seated there, smoking a cigar—the air was blue and acrid—while she played go with the computer. “Well, hi!” the Jinxian cried. Teeth flashed startling white in her midnight visage. “On free orbit, are you? C’mon in.”

“I thought you might care to talk,” said the Wunderlander, shyer than erstwhile. “But it is not needful.”

“Oh, Lord, for me it’s a breath of fresh beer. Dullest chore in the galaxy, this side of listening to an Ecotheist preacher. And the damn machine always beats me. Hey, don’t look near that unshuttered port. We’d have to screw your eyeballs back in and hang your brain out to dry.”

“I know about hyperspace.” Tyra flowed into the second chair.

“Yes, you have knocked around a fair amount, haven’t you?”

“Part of my work.”

“I globbed a disc of yours before we left. Put it through the translator and read it yesterday. In English, Astrid’s Purple Submarine.”

“That is for children.”

“What of it? Fun. When I got to the part where the teddy bear has to sit on the safety valve of the steam telephone, I laughed my molars loose. I’ll keep the book for whatever kids I may eventually have.”

“Thank you.” A silence fell.

Carita blew a smoke ring and said softly, “You’re a cheerful one, aren’t you? That takes grit, in a situation like yours. Because you’ve never put aside what happened to your parents, have you? I imagine you always dreamed of going out on your father’s trail.”

Tyra shrugged. “The tragedy is in the past. Whatever comes of it is in the future. Meanwhile, he would be the last person who wanted me to mope.”

“And you’ve more life in you than most. Yank me down if I pry, but I can’t help wondering why you’ve never married.”

“Oh, I did. Twice.”

Carita waited.

Tyra glanced past her. “I may as well tell you. We shall be shipmates for a time that may grow long and a little dangerous. I married first soon after the liberation. It was a mistake. He was born in space, he had spent his life as a Resistance fighter. I was young and, and impulsive and worshipped him for a hero.” She sighed. “He was, is not a bad man. But he was too much used to violence and to being obeyed.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t take kindly to that.”

“No. My second husband was several years later. An engineer, who had traveled and done great things in space before he settled on Wunderland. A good man, he, strong, gentle. But I found—we discovered together, time by time, that he no longer cared to explore things. He was content with what he had, with his routines. I grew restless until—there was someone else. That ended, but by then it had broken the marriage.” Tyra sighed. “Poor Jonas. He deserved better. But he was not too sad. I was his third wife. He is now happy with his fourth.”

“So you’ve had other fellows in between and afterward.”

“Well, yes.” Tyra flushed. “Not many. I do not hunt them.”

“No, no, I never said you do. Besides, I’d look silly perched on a moralistic fence. Still,” Carita murmured, “older men generally, eh?”

“Do you care for puppies?” Tyra snapped.

“I’m sorry. I mean well, but Kam says that for me ‘tact’ is a four-letter word. ’Fraid he’s right. Uh, you here after anything in particular, or just to chat? You’re welcome either way.”

Tyra relaxed somewhat. “Both. I would like to know you folk better.”

Carita grinned. “To put us in a book?”

Tyra smiled back. “If you permit. This journey will become big news when we return. I think I can tell it in such a way that your privacy is protected but it gives you publicity that will help your business.”

“Which could sure use help. Don’t feel guilty about any risks. You’re paying, and we went in with our eyes wide open, radiating the light of pure greed.” Carita paused. “Yes, I guess you are the right writer for us.”

“I want more to know you as, as human beings.”

“And we to