Prologue

Discipline

THE PLANET BELOW HIM WAS HIDDEN TO ALL OF SHARLS'S

senses save for the Neutrino Screen, the Neudar. What

had been a gas giant planet a billion years ago was still a

world two and a half times the size of the Earth: an egg

of rock and nickel-iron hidden in world-sized storms. The

storms spread out into a cloudy ring occupying the en-

tirety of Goldblatt's World's orbit around the neutron

star.

Sharls watched storms spin outward from the gas giant.

Streams of fog and cloud and dust ran slow near the

Smoke Ring's outer rim, faster at the Smoke Ring median,

faster yet as they neared Levoy's Star; and everywhere

there were flattened whorls of hurricane. The gravity gra-

dient was savage this near the ancient neutron star. The

innermost limits of the Smoke Ring circled Levoy's Star

every two hours.

The Smoke Ring was tinged with green—it had its own

billion-year-old ecology—and somewhere in that cloud

were men.

1

2 / Larry Niven

The temptation to go to them was a constant low-level

irritant.

When moving between stars. Discipline burned the

near-infinite hydrogen of interstellar space; but Discipline

had been at rest for a long time now, and onboard fuel

was limited. Refueling could not have progressed far

when the mutiny came. Sharls's supply of deuterium-trit-

ium mix was finite. He had no way of knowing how long

he must wait for the children of Discipline's crew to re-

discover civilization, to build their own spacecraft, to

come to him. He was always short of power. The solar

collectors on his two remaining CARMs didn't give him

much.

Sharls ignored the stars, most of the time. He watched

the Smoke Ring. When the boredom became too much

for him, he edited it from his memory. Boredom was a

recurring surprise.

Five hundred and thirty-two Earth years was one

hundred and ninety-two orbits of Levoy's Star round its

companion star. But the natives of the Smoke Ring mea-

sured years from the passings of the neutron star (Levoy's

Star, "Voy") across the face of the yellow dwarf (T3,

"Sun"); so a Smoke Ring "year" was 1.384 Earth years.

Sharls had been waiting in the L2 point behind Goldblatt's

World for three hundred and eighty-four Smoke Ring

years.

Best to sit it out in a stable orbit, and watch, and wait

for men to develop civilization. Best to edit the memory

of boredom . . .

Discipline's computer/autopilot stored its information

as a human brain did, or a hologram, though Sharls could

feel differences. Memories from his time aboard Disci-

pline were sharp and vivid. Those he had edited were gone

completely. But memories from his time as a man, trans-

THE SMOKE RING / 3

ferred long ago from a human brain now long dead, were

blurred, hard to retrieve.

So: it wasn't like a relay clicking over.

But somewhere in the computer there was a change of

state. Five hundred and thirty-two years, and enough is

enough. Sharls Davis Kendy was done with waiting.

Section One

CITIZENS

TREE

Chapter One

The Pond

from the Citizens Tree cassettes, year 19 SM:

PONDS

WATER DROPLETS COME IN ALL SIZES HERE. CLOUDS

MAY HOLD EVERYTHING FROM FINE MIST, TO GLOBULES

THE SIZE OF A FIST, TO SPHEROIDS THAT HOUSE ALL

MANNER OF LIFE. THE BIGGEST "POND" WE'VE SEEN

MASSED TEN MILLION METRIC TONS OR SO; BUT THE TIDE

FROM LEVOY'S STAR HAD PULLED IT INTO TWO LOBES

AND THE DIFFERENTIAL WINDS WERE TEARING IT APART.

THE ECOLOGY OF THE PONDS IS ONE RATHER THAN

MANY. LIFE IS QUEER AND WONDERFUL, BUT IN EVERY

POND WE HAVE EXAMINED IT IS THE SAME LIFE. PONDS

ARE TEMPORARY; POND LIFE MUST OCCASIONALLY MI-

GRATE. IN THE SMOKE RING EVEN THE FISH CAN FLY.

—CAROL BURNES, LIFE SUPPORT

LAWRI AND JEPFER SWAM BENEATH MURKY PONDWA-

ter, trailing forty square meters of fabric stretched across

7

8 / Larry Niven

the net more commonly used to sieve harebrains from the

sky. They gripped its corners in strong toes and swam

with their arms.

The sheet Tesisted. The leading edge tried to crumple.

Tethers at the comers of the harebrain net got in their

way. We could have had some help, Jeffer thought. Lawri

wouldn't have it. Lawri's idea. Lawn's project! She'd be

doing this by herself if she possibly could.

Air! He slapped her thigh. She dropped the sheet and

they swam toward the light.

Air is the sweetest taste, though one must risk drown-

ing to appreciate it.

They were at the arc of the pond nearest Citizens Tree.

The center of the trunk was a mere three klomters east.

Seventy klomters of trunk ran out and in from the pond,

ending in paired curved tufts. The in tuft, home, looked

greenish black, with Voy's blue pinpoint shining almost

behind it. A single line ran from the trunk, and divided.

The sheet was a ghostly shadow deep within the pond.

Lines ran from the comers, up through the water and out,

to join the main cable that ran to the trunk.

"Almost in place," Lawri said doubtfully.

"Close enough."

"All right. You go get the CARM ready. I'll draft some

hands to pull it in."

Jeffer nodded. His legs scissored and shot him into the

air. He drifted toward the main cable in a spray of drop-

lets.

It was easier than arguing. Lawri would not leave Jeffer

to organize the final stage. When Lawri the Scientist got

an idea, nobody else got credit. Particularly not Citizens

Tree's other Scientist, her husband.

Partway around the curve of the pond, Minya and

Gavving floated in the interface between air and water,

surrounded by thrashing children.

THE SMOKE RING / 9

Lines ran from each child toward the cable from Cit-

izens Tree. The children were taught the backstroke first.

It kept their faces in the air. Some preferred the frog-kick

that let them look beneath the water. Swimming was a

balance of surface tension versus the thrust of arms and

legs.

If a child kicked himself entirely out of the water, an

adult must go after him. A child who went beneath the

surface could panic and must be pulled out before he

drowned. There were carnivores among the waterbirds.

Minya and Gavving wore harpoons. They had three of

their own among the swimmers.

Gavving used lazy strokes to change his attitude, mov-

ing his field of view in a clockwise circle.

"Look at Rather," Minya said.

The oldest of the children were swimming together.

Daughter of two jungle giants, golden-blond Jill had grown

to merely normal height in the tide of Citizens Tree. She

was thirty ce' meters shorter than her parents ... but the

contrast between Jill and Rather was startling. At four-

teen, Minya's dark-haired firstborn son was less than two

meters in height. Jill had more than half a meter on him.

Yet Minya never spoke of Rather's height. Gavving

looked again and said, "Right. Rather!"

Rather paddled over, reluctantly. Fine green fur,

barely visible, grew a mi'meter long on his left cheek.

Gavving gripped the boy's arm and lifted him partway out

of the water, against surface tension. The green could be

traced down Rather's neck, over his shoulder, and part-

way across his chest.

"Fluff," Gavving said. "Why didn't you tell some-

one?"

Rather grinned guiltily. "I've never swum before."

Minya snapped, "You go straight—"

"No. Finish your swim. You'll pay for it. You've seen

your last of the sun for a while. Have we raised a fool?

It's almost reached your eye!"

10 / Larry Niven

Rather nodded solemnly and paddled away. Minya

watched him go, her mouth pursed in anger. Her husband

wriggled and was silently underwater; kicked, and was

beneath her; grasped an ankle and dove. Minya doubled

back on herself and kicked him across the jaw. Gavving

reached through the defense of her waving arms and legs

and had her head between his hands; pulled her to him

by main strength and kissed her hard. She laughed bub-

bles.

He kicked toward the surface with Minya in tow. They

blew water from their faces before they inhaled, and were

back on duty before any child could get into trouble.

Debby was some distance from where the children

swam. She stayed just under the surface, motionless,

peering, her spear poised. She expelled stale air—which

stayed before her as a bubble—raised her head, snatched

a breath, ducked again.

Debby had lived her first nineteen years in free-fall.

Fourteen years in the tree tide had put muscle on her

without shrinking her height. Her children—and lisa's,

the children they had borne to Anthon—were no taller

than ordinary tree dwellers. But Debby was two and a

half meters tall. Her fingers were long and fragile; her

toes were sturdier if less agile, and the big toes measured

six ce'meters. Her rich brown hair was beginning to show

gray, but she still wore it a meter long. For swimming she

wore it looped in a braid around her throat.

The water was murky. This was a new skill for Debby,

but she was learning.

She struck. The ripple other thrust expanded outward

around the great globule, past playing children and the

Scientists working their cloth sheet.

A silver shape wriggled on Debby's spearpoint. Debby

reached above her head, tugged hard at the tether, and

gasped as her head broke the surface. The waterbird, sud-

denly thrust into air, expanded its small wings and

THE SMOKE RING / 11

thrashed mightily. A blow to the head end quieted it.

Debby pushed it into a net bag to join five others.

Her chest still heaved with the need for air. She rested

quietly on her back, her hands fluttering from time to time

to keep surface tension from pulling her under.

Eastward, a thousand klomters past Citizens Tree, the

cloud patterns thickened into a flattened whirlpool. The

Smoke Ring converged beyond and below the whorl in a

stream of white touched with blue-green, narrowing as it

dropped toward the dazzling point of Voy.

Things tended to collect in that special part of the

Smoke Ring, east of Gold by sixty degrees of arc. The

citizens had reason to know that the storm-whorl around

Gold was dangerous. They assumed that the Clump was

too. They had never taken the tree nearer than this.

They had never visited a jungle.

Human beings certainly lived elsewhere in the Smoke

Ring, but Citizens Tree had never attempted to contact

them.

Citizens Tree was placid, safe. Working within the

pond was as much excitement as Debby ever got these

days. Life in Carther States had been different. The oc-

casional raids from London Tree forced the citizens to be

always prepared for war, until in one magnificent raid they

had ended London Tree's power forever.

Debby's connection with the jungle warriors had ended

too. A mixed group of copsiks and warriors had stolen

London Tree's CARM. The vehicle was old science, pow-

erful and unfamiliar. They and their prisoners had been

lucky to bring the CARM to any kind of safety; but

Carther States was lost somewhere in the sky beyond

Gold.

From westward came a cheerful cry. "Citizens! We

need muscle!" Debby saw Lawri the Scientist floating in

the sky with one hand on the main tether.

Debby snatched at the" net bag (six was a nice day's

catch), kicked herself into the sky, and began reeling her

12 / Larry Niven

line in. She was first to reach the Scientist. Clave and

Minya and Mark the Silver Man were leaving the pond,

reeling in lines. Gavving had stayed to gather the children.

Four tethers led to the corners of the sheet-covered

net, which was now deep underwater. Lawri stationed

them along the main tether as they arrived. "Gather it

in," she directed them. "Make loops. Steady pull."

Debby wrapped her toes and her fingers around the

cable, and did her savage best to contract her body. No

loop formed. She knew she wasn't as strong as a tree

dweller, but the others were having trouble too.

Lawn called, "Good! It's coming straight out."

That was not obvious to Debby. She strained . . . and

gradually the pond bulged. The sheet and its net backing

were rising, carrying tons of water. Debby pulled until

her knees and elbows met, then shifted her grip and con-

tinued pulling.

The pond stretched, and tore. A baby pond pulled

clear, leaving a trail of droplets the size of a man's head.

Water flowed over the edges of the cloth but was not lost,

for surface tension held it. The main pond pulsed as sur-

face tension tried to form the sphere again.

"Keep pulling!" Lawri shouted. "Steady . . . okay.

That should do it."

The citizens relaxed. The bud-pond continued to move

east on its own momentum, toward the tree, with the net

and sheet now in the middle of a pulsing sphere.

Debby coiled line that was now slack. Glancing toward

the trunk, she saw what the curve of the pond had hidden

earlier.

Parallel to the trunk and many klomters beyond it

floated a slender dark line. A young tree, no more than

thirty klomters long, and injured; for the in tuft was miss-

ing, chopped away somehow. The view was confusing,

for the midtrunk was wreathed in cloud . . . dark, dirty

cloud . . . smoke!

Debby tugged abruptly at another line. The motion set

THE SMOKE RING / 13

her drifting toward the Chairman. Clave caught her ankle

as she arrived. "Something?"

Debby pointed with her toes. "That tree. It's on fire!"

"... I believe you're right. Treefodder! It'll be com-

ing apart. Two fires to worry about."

Debby had never seen a tree break in half, but Clave

spoke from dreadful experience. They might have to move

the tree. It would take time to get the CARM ready—

Clave had already thought that far. His voice became

a whipcrack roar. "Citizens, it's getting toward dinner-

time, and we've got all these waterbirds. Let's break up

the swim."

His voice dropped. "You go now, Debby. Tell Jeffer

we may need the CARM. We'll get the women and chil-

dren down into the tuft, if we've got time. Your eyes are

better than mine. Do you see anything leaving the tree?

Like clouds of insects?"

There were black specks, big enough to show detail.

"Not insects. Something bigger . . . three, four . . .

birds?"

"Doesn't matter. Get going."

It had taken Jeffer the Scientist a fifth of a day to cross

three klomters of line.

Free-fall brought back memories. When Quinn Tribe

was lost in the sky after Dalton-Quinn Tree came apart,

his crew would have given eyes and limbs to reach a pond.

Fourteen years later, the grandmother of all ponds floated

three klomters from Citizens Tree; and now their main

problem was to get rid of most of it. Jeffer wondered if

the children appreciated their wealth.

Perhaps they did. Most of Citizens Tree, thirty naked

adults and children, had come to swim in that shimmering

sphere of water.

There was no foliage on the high trunk. It was thick

rough bark, with fissures deep enough to hide a man. Jef-

fer found and donned his tunic and pants, then anchored

14 / Larry Niven

his toes in a crevice and thrust to send himself gliding out

along the bark, toward the CARM.

The lift cable ended two hundred meters short of the

CARM's dock. The citizens may have feared that careless

use of the CARM might spray fire across a rising cage.

More likely, they feared the CARM itself. They would

not lightly come too near that ancient scientific thing.

The CARM was old science. It was roughly brick-

shaped, four meters by ten by thirty-two, and made of

starstuff: metal and glass and plastic, sheathed with

darkly luminous stuff that took the energy from sunlight.

The bulk of it was tanks for hydrogen and oxygen and

water. Nostrils at the aft end—four at each corner, and

a larger one in the middle—would spurt blue fire on com-

mand.

They had neglected the CARM of late, and Jeffer ac-

cepted some of the blame. The CARM made two "fla-

vors" of fuel out of water and the power in the batteries.

The batteries held their full scientific charge—they filled

themselves, somehow, as long as sunlight could reach the

CARM's glassy surface—but the hydrogen and oxygen

tanks were almost empty. It was high time they filled the

water tank.

The CARM's bow was moored in a dock of wooden

beams. Double doors led into a hut with cradles for pas-

sengers, moorings for cargo, and a broad transparent win-

dow. The window looked forth on nothing but bark.

Ventral to the window was a gray sheet of glass and a

row of colored buttons.

Jeffer went forward. A touch of a blue button lit the

gray glass panel. Blue governed what moved the CARM:

the motors, the two flavors of fuel supply, the water tank,

fuel flow. Jeffer read the blue script:

H2: 0,518

Oz: 0,360

HzO: 0,001

POWER: 8,872

THE SMOKE RING / 15

The batteries danced with energy. Why not? The

CARM wasn't using power. Nobody in Citizens Tree had

bothered to fill the water tank in seven years; so power

wasn't needed to split water into hydrogen and oxygen.

The water tank was virtually dry.

And he could get something done while he waited for

Lawn's pond. Jeffer touched the blue button (the panel

went blank) and the yellow (there appeared a line diagram

of the CARM's bow, the hut section). He touched a yel-

low dot in the image, and turned his fingertip. Then he

moved aft.

The residual goop in pond water stayed in the tank after

the pure water was gone. Jeffer's finger motions had (mag-

ically, scientifically) caused a spigot in the aft wall to ooze

brown mud. He cupped the globule in his hands. He

tossed it at the airlock, and most of it got through. Another

globule formed, and he sent it after the first. He wiped

his hands on his tunic. The mud flow had stopped.

Next he pulled several loops of hose from cargo hooks.

He rotated one end onto the spigot, then tossed the coil

through the twin doors. Done! When Lawri's blob of pond

arrived, she would find the CARM ready to be fueled.

Jeffer returned to the controls. He had a surprise for

his wife.

Two sleeps ago, while the rest of the tribe was roasting

waterbirds from the pond, Lawri had held one of the crea-

tures up for his perusal. "Have you ever really looked at

these?"

Jeffer had seen waterbirds before . . . but he'd kept

his mouth shut, and looked.

There were no feathers. The modified trilateral sym-

metry common to Smoke Ring life expressed itself in two

wings and a tailfin, all in smooth membrane on collapsible

ribs. The wings could be held half collapsed for motion

within the denser medium of water. Only one of the three

eyes looked like a normal bird's eye. The others were big

and bulbous, with large pupils and thick lids. The bodies

were slippery-smooth.

16 / Larry Niven

"I've eaten them, but . . . you're right. I've seen

everything from mobies to triunes to flashers to drillbits,

and they don't look like this. Earthlife doesn't either. Do

you think it's so they can move through water?"

"I've tried looking them up in the cassettes," Lawri

had said. "I tried bird. I tried water and pond. There's

nothing."

Jeffer's next sleep had ended with a dream fading in

his mind, leaving a single phrase: "... even the fish can

fly."

He'd had to wait until now to try it.

He tapped yellow (the display vanished), then white

(and got a tiny white rectangle at the dorsal-port comer).

White read the cassettes; white summoned Voice. "Pri-

kazyvat Voice," he said.

The voice of the CARM was a throaty bass, as deep

as Mark the dwarf's voice. "Ready, Jeffer the Scientist."

"Prikazyvat Read Fish. Read it aloud."

The cassette was one that Jeffer had stolen from Lon-

don Tree, but it was no different from Quinn Tribe's lost

records of Smoke Ring life forms. As Voice spoke, print

scrolled down the display screen: words recorded long

ago by one of Discipline's abandoned crew.

FISH

IF THE BIRDS WITHIN THE SMOKE RING RESEMBLE

FISH—LEGLESS, DESIGNED TO MOVE THROUGH AIR

WEH3HTLESSLY, AS A FISH MOVES THROUGH WATER-

THEN THE FISH THAT LIVE WITHIN THE PONDS RESEMBLE

BIRDS.

EVERY FISH WE HAVE EXAMINED BREATHES AIR.

THEY ARE NOT MAMMALS, BUT LUNGFISH. THE SINGLE

CLASS OF EXCEPTIONS, GILLFISH, ARE DISCUSSED ELSE-

WHERE.

SOME CAN EXTRUDE A TUBE TO THE POND'S SURFACE.

THE SMOKE RING / 17

A PEW CAN EXPAND THE SIZE OF THEIR PINS VIA MEM-

BRANES, TO MAKE THEM SERVE AS WINGS. ONE FORM,

CORE FISH, INFLATES ITSELF WITH AIR, DIVES TO THE

CENTER OF A POND, AND EXPELS A BUBBLE. IT CAN STAY

SUBMERGED FOR UP TO A DAY—SEVERAL SMOKE RING

DAYS—REBREATHING ITS AIR BUBBLE, MAKING FORAYS

TO HUNT, AND THEN RETURNING.

THE WHALE-SIZED MOBY USES ITS POND AS A LAIR

FROM WHICH IT BURSTS TO SWEEP THROUGH PASSING

CLOUDS OF INSECTS. MOB VIS A COMPROMISE FORM, AND

THERE ARE OTHERS.

CLEARLY EVEN THE LARGEST PONDS CAN BREAK UP

OR EVAPORATE OR BE TORN APART BY STORM. EVERY

CREATURE THAT LIVES IN A POND MUST BE PREPARED TO

MIGRATE TO ANOTHER: TO BEHAVE LIKE A BIRD. EVEN

GILLFISH—

"Prikazyvat Stop," Jeffer said. This memory that had

surfaced from his adolescent training under Quinn Tribe's

Scientist was going to put him one up on his wife!

Back to work. He tapped white, then green, then each

of the five green rectangles now onscreen. Within the

great window that faced the bark, five smaller windows

appeared, looking starboard, port, dorsal, ventral, and

aft. The ventral view had a blur and a flicker to it. The

rest were clear, like the window itself.

The aft view looked along the line that led west to the

pond. Citizens were returning to the tree. Behind them a

bud of pond was already drifting toward the tree, with the

harebrain net showing as a shadow within. Lawri's crazy

idea was working.

They swarmed back along the cable toward the mid-

point of Citizens Tree. Gavving and Minya and Anthon

hung back, counting heads to be sure that all children were

accounted for. A girl lost her grip and drifted; she was

18 / Larry Niven

chortling and trying to swim through the air when Anthon

scooped her up.

As children arrived, Clave herded the smaller ones,

with some difficulty, into a rectangular frame with a slat-

ted floor: the lift cage. He stopped when twelve children

were inside. Leave room for a couple of adults.

The rest clung to the rough bark or floated like balloons

on their tethers. There were wrestling matches. Eight-

year-old Arth was getting good at using the recoil of his

opponent's line. He was Clave's youngest, and just be-

ginning the tremendous growth of adolescence.

Debby had arrived first. Clave could see her a hundred

meters out along the bark, climbing toward the CARM.

The bud-pond continued to move. Lawri wore a pro-

prietary smile. Still, Citizens Tree had better have more

line next time they tried this. The pond was too close. If

the tree had brushed it there would have been a flood.

The lift now held a score of children. Whoever was in

the treadmill would have a problem braking that weight.

It couldn't be helped. Clave looked about. Mark and An-

thon looked ludicrous together. Mark short and wide, An-

thon long and narrow, their heads pointing in opposite

directions— He called, "Anthon, Mark. Take the chil-

dren down and bring back any adult you can find. Be

prepared to fight a fire."

Anthon stared in astonishment. "Fire?"

"Burning tree. It's around the other side of the trunk

now. Go down and get some help. Rather— Where on

Earth is Rather?"

Mark pointed outward. "I didn't know any reason to

stop them," he said defensively. "They won't fit in the

lift this trip—"

Clave cursed silently as he watched Rather and Jill

clawing their way out along the bark. There was no tide

to hurt them here. If they slipped, someone would go get

them. But he could have used their help.

THE SMOKE RING / 19

Jeffer couldn't guess how long it took him to realize

that the background had changed. Behind the five camera

views superimposed upon it, the window no longer

showed bark a few ce'meters distant. It showed a huge

face, strong, with massive bones: the brutal face of a

dwarf.

Chapter Two

Discipline

from the Citizens Tree cassettes, year 6 SM:

FIRE

MAKING A COOKP1RE IN FREE-FALL IS AN EXCES-

SIVELY INTERESTING EXPERIENCE IF WHAT YOU REALLY

WANTED WAS DINNER. IT'S TAKEN ME EIGHT STATE

YEARS TO PERFECT MY TECHNIQUE.

THE FIRST LESSON IS THAT A FLAME DOESN'T RISE IN

FREE-FALL. I LEARNED THAT WITH A CANDLE, WHEN I

WAS A CADET DREAMING OF STRANGE WORLDS. IF

THERE'S NO WIND (TURN OFF THE AIR FEED), THE CAN-

DLE FLAME SEEMS TO GO OUT.

BUT IT ISN'T OUT YET. THERE'S WAX VAPOR, AND

THERE'S THE AIR AROUND IT, AND AT THE INTERFACE IS

AN ENVELOPE OF PLASMA WHERE GAS AND OXYGEN IN-

TERACT. IT CAN STAY HOT FOR MINUTES. COMBUSTION

CONTINUES AT TfiE INTERFACE. WAVE THE CANDLE

AND POP\ THE FLAME IS BACK.

THE SMOKE RING / 21

IN THE CASE OF A COOKFIRE, THE WOOD CONTINUES

TO CHAR. WAIT AN HOUR, THEN BLOW ON THE COALS

WITH A BELLOWS. THE FIRE JUMPS TO LIFE AND THERE

WENT YOUR EYEBROWS.

—DENNIS QUINN, CAPTAIN

DISCIPLINE HAD BEEN DETERIORATING.

Cameras outside the hull showed rainbow-hued scars

from matter that had penetrated the electromagnetic ram-

scoop while Discipline was in flight. They also showed

newer micrometeorite pocks. Sharls could ward off any-

thing big enough to see coming, by turning on those mag-

netic shields for a few seconds, but they ate power in great

gulps.

One day he might regret even the little power he used

to maintain the gardens and the cats.

Within the hull, time had discolored metal and plastic.

The air was dust-free; metal was clean, but not recently

polished. Many of the servomechs had worn out. All but

a few of the crew cubicles were kept cold and dark and

airless. Kitchen machinery was in storage, with power

shut down. Some of the bedding had decayed. Water mat-

tresses had been drained and stored.

Sharls kept the control room free of water vapor and

almost cold enough to freeze carbon dioxide. He hoped

that the computer and its extensions would survive longer

in the cold. But the gardens and corridors and even some

of the cubicles were kept habitable. Sharls left the lighting

on a day-night cycle, for the birds and cats and plants.

The gardens were surviving nicely. It was true that

some of the plants had died out completely; but after all,

his ecosystem was missing its most important factor.

Human crew were supposed to be in that cycle, and they

had been gone for half a thousand years.

Scores of cats prowled the ship hunting hundreds of

22 / Larry Niven

rats and a lesser number of turkeys and pigeons. The tur-

keys made a formidable enemy. The cats had learned to

attack them in pairs.

Sharls trained the cats to respond to his voice. He had

released the experimental rats long ago. The birds were

already loose; they must have been released during that

blank spot in his memory, the mutiny; but by themselves

they wouldn't have fed the cats. They were too agile, for

one thing. With all of the animal life in the system now,

the gardens had a better chance of surviving.

By watching the cats and rats and plants and turkeys

and pigeons interact, Sharls hoped to learn how an eco-

logical system would behave in a free-fall environment

. . . like the larger ecosystem that flowed beneath Dis-

cipline in endless rivers of curdled cloud.

Or had he simply become lonely? In his youth Sharls

had never been a cat lover. (A sudden memory: his hand

swelling with white patches rimmed in red, itching hor-

ribly. A kitten had scratched him playfully while he was

stroking it.) And now? They didn't obey orders worth a

damn ... but neither had his crew.

A computer program would hardly have retained al-

lergies; but who would expect a computer program to be-

come lonely?

Discipline skimmed above the curdled whorl of the

fourth Lagrange point. A fraction of Sharls Davis Kendy's

attention watched on various wavelengths. This close, he

could confirm an earlier sighting: minor amounts of car-

bon were being burned at sites around the edges of that

endless storm. This was no forest fire: too small, and it

had gone on for years. It might indicate human industry

at a primitive level.

Now, where was CARM #6?

. . . Funny that the cats hadn't gone with the muti-

neers. The crew had loved cats. Somewhere in the lost

part of his memory, there must be a reason. Perhaps

Sharls had pulled free of the Smoke Ring without warning.

THE SMOKE RING / 23

He might have done that if the mutineers planned some-

thing really foul, like cutting the computer out and trying

to run Discipline manually.

The mutiny was a blank to Sharls.

He had edited those memories. He even remembered

why. The descendants of the mutineers would need Sharls

Davis Kendy someday. It was not good that he hold

grudges against specific ancestors, against old names. But

had he been too thorough?

—There! CARM #6's communications system had

come alive.

It was a thousand kilometers behind him and something

less than six thousand kilometers in toward Voy. Kendy

did several things at once. Before his new orbit could

carry him away, he restarted the drive. He beamed,

"Kendy for the State. Kendy for the State."

The CARM autopilot responded.

"Link to me. Beam records."

He'd made mistakes enough during that unexpected

contact twenty Earth years ago! At least he'd accom-

plished something: he'd broken the program that denied

him access to the Cargo and Repair Module. The drive

systems were beyond his reach. The original mutineers

must have physically cut the fiber-optic cable. But the

CARM would talk to him!

He'd instructed the autopilot to take photographs at

ten-minute intervals. Reentry was in progress when he

sent that message. Static might well have fuzzed him out.

But pictures were streaming in.

Time passed at a furious rate. CARM #6 flamed as it

plowed through thickening air, veering from plants and

ponds and creatures. It dipped into a pond to refuel, then

bedded itself in the Voy-ward tuft of the largest of a clus-

ter (grove?) of integral trees. It stayed there, with not

much of a view at all, for most of a Smoke Ring year.

Flickering shapes carved cavities through the foliage and

wove small branches into wasp's-nest structures. Ab-

24 / Larry Niven

ruptly the CARM backed into the sky, skittered outward

under inexpert handling, and docked at the midpoint of

the tree.

With another part of his mind, Kendy fiddled with Dis-

cipline's fusion motor. He could not match his orbit to

that of the CARM. He must stay well outside the Smoke

Ring to protect Discipline from corrosion. The best he

could do was twice the CARM's orbital period, to dip low

above the CARM's position once every ten hours and

eight minutes. But he'd be in range for half an hour while

his motor was firing.

More of his attention went to watching the CARM's

lone occupant in real time.

Jeffer the "Scientist" was stored in memory. He had

aged twenty Earth years: hair and beard going gray, wrin-

kles across his forehead (broken by a white line of scar

that was a healing pink wound in Kendy's records), and

knuckles turning knobby. Height: 2.3 meters. Mass: 86

kilograms. Long arms and legs, toes like stubby fingers,

fingers like a spider's legs: long, fragile, the hands of a

field surgeon.

The Smoke Ring had altered Discipline's descendants.

The tribes of London Tree and Dalton-Quinn Tree had all

looked like that. The jungle giants who had grown up with-

out tidal gravity were hardly human: freakishly tall, with

long, fragile, agile fingers and toes; and one of the twelve

was a cripple, and others had legs of different length. Only

Mark the Silver Man had looked like a normal State cit-

izen. They had called him "dwarf."

They were savages; but they had learned to use State

technology in the form of the CARM. Still human. Per-

haps they could be made citizens again.

To Kendy, who thought with the speed of a computer,

the "Scientist" moved much too slowly. Now he was at

the controls, auditing a cassette; now checking the camera

views in present time . . .

The incoming CARM records showed clouds and

THE SMOKE RING / 25

ponds and trees and trilaterally symmetric fishlike birds

swirling across the sky. Natives flickered through the

CARM cabin: the same savages, growing older; a growing

handful of children.

At fifteen years minus-time the CARM backed out of

its timber dock for a journey of exploration. It visited a

green puffball several kilometers across, and when it

emerged there was vegetation like a houseful of green

spaghetti bound to its dorsal surface. It hovered in the

open sky while men darted among a flock of birds—real

birds with real wings: turkeys—and returned to its dock

with prisoners.

At thirteen years minus-time it left the trunk to return

with a dubious prize: several tons of black mud.

There were no more such forays. The Cargo and Repair

Module had become a motor for the tree.

It was docked when the main drive fired for several

hours. Kendy watched side views as the integral tree

drifted across the sky. It had been circling too far from

the neutron star. Air grew thin away from the Smoke Ring

median.

The tree was lower now; the air would be as thick as

mountain air on Earth. And now the CARM was not being

used at all; but there was plenty to watch. The Smoke

Ring environment was fascinating. Huge spheres of

water, storms, jungles like tremendous puffs of green cot-

ton candy.

In present time, the aft CARM camera showed nearly

thirty natives maneuvering between the tree and a tre-

mendous globule of water. They were using the free-fall

environment better than any State astronaut. The State

had need of these people!

Discipline's own telescope had found the foreshor-

tened tree, with the pond to mark it. And what was that

on the opposite side of the tree? Infrared light glowed near

its center . . .

Half a thousand years of sensory deprivation were

26 / Larry Niven

being compensated in a few minutes. After more than five

hundred years, Sharls Kendy had left the stable point be-

hind Goldblatt's World. He had burned irreplaceable fuel,

and it was worth it! Sharls tried to absorb it all, integrate

it all... but that could wait. The "Scientist" might leave

at any minute!

He beamed: "Interrupt records." It was twenty Earth

years of nothing happening, and the tiny CARM autopilot

couldn't handle too many tasks at once. "Activate

voice."

"Voice on." The .04 second delay was almost too

short to notice.

"Send—" He displayed a picture of himself as a

human being, with minor improvements. At age forty-two

Kendy had been handsome, healthy, mature, firm of jaw,

authoritative: a recruitment-poster version of a State

checker.

These were not obedient State citizens. They hadn't

trusted him twenty years ago. What words might give him

a handle on Jeffer the "Scientist"?

He sent, "Kendy for the State. Jeffer the Scientist,

your citizens have been idle too long."

Jeffer jumped like a thief caught in the act. Two long

seconds passed before he found his voice. "Checker?"

"Speaking. How stands your tribe?"

Out beyond the terrible whorl of storm that surrounded

Gold, out where water boiled and froze at the same time

and the legendary stars were a visible truth, lived Kendy

the Checker. He had claimed to be something like an elab-

orate cassette: the recording of a man. He had claimed

authority over every human being in the Smoke Ring. He

had offered knowledge and power, while they were still

near enough to hear his ravings.

Perhaps he was only a madman trapped somehow

aboard the spacecraft that had brought men from the

stars. But he had knowledge. He had coached them

THE SMOKE RING / 27

through that terrible fall back into the Smoke Ring, four-

teen years ago.

The face in the CARM's window had not been seen

since. It was the face of a dwarf, a brutal throwback. The

jaw and orbital ridges were more massive even than

Mark's, the musculature more prominent.

"We lived through the reentry," Jeffer told him. "lisa

and Merril are dead now. There are children."

"Jeffer, your tribe has possessed the CARM for four-

teen of your years. In that time you have moved the tree

twice and thenceforth done nothing at all. What have you

learned of the people of the fourth Lagrange point?"

The what? "I don't understand the question."

"Sixty degrees ahead of Goldblatt's World on the arc

of the Smoke Ring and sixty degrees behind are regions

where matter grows dense. They are points of stability in

Goldblatt's World's orbit. Material tends to collect

there." The dwarf's brutal features registered impati-

ence. "East of you by twelve hundred kilometers, a vast,

sluggish, permanent storm."

"The Clump? You're saying there are people in the

Clump?"

"I sense activity there. A civilization is growing twelve

hundred kilometers from where your tree has floated for

fifteen Earth years. Jeffer, where is your curiosity? Has

it been bred out of you?"

"What do you want from me, Checker?"

Kendy said, "I can be in range to advise you every ten

hours and eight minutes, once every two of your days. I

want to know more of the people of the Smoke Ring. In

particular, I want to know about you and about the Clump

civilization. I think you should link with them, perhaps

rule them."

Jeffer's one previous experience indicated that Kendy

was harmless. For good or ill, he could only talk. Jeffer

gathered his courage and said, "Kendy, the tales say that

28 / Larry Niven

you abandoned us here, long ago. Now I expect you're

bored and—"

"I am."

"And you want to talk to someone. You also claim

authority 1 won't grant you. Why should I listen?"

"Are you aware that you are being invaded?"

"What?"

The face ofKendy was suddenly replaced by a dizzying

view. Jeffer looked into a river of storm, streaming faster

as the eye moved inward toward a tiny, brilliant violet

pinpoint. Jeffer had seen this once before: the Smoke Ring

seen from outside.

Before he could remember to breathe, the view

jumped. He was looking at what had been the center of

the picture, vastly enlarged.

"Look." Scarlet arrowheads appeared, pointing—

"Here, your tree."

"Citizens Tree, from the out tuft? Yeah, and that must

be the pond." Both were tiny. Opposite the pond was. . .

another tree? And dark cloud clinging to the trunk?

The view jumped again. Through the blur and flicker

in the illusion of a window, Jeffer watched a tree on fire.

Moving between the two trees were creatures he had

never seen before.

"Treefodder! Everybody's on the other side of the

trunk. Those bird-things will be on the tree before anyone

knows it."

"Look in infrared." The picture changed again, to red

blobs on black. Jeffer couldn't tell what he was looking

at. The scarlet arrowhead pointed again. "You are seeing

heat. This is fire in the intruder tree. Here, these five

points are just the temperature of a man."

Jeffer shook his head. "It doesn't mean anything."

The enlarged picture returned . . . and suddenly those

tiny "creatures" jumped into perspective. "Winged

men!"

"I would have called those enlarged swimming fins

THE SMOKE RING / 29

rather than wings. Never mind. Have you ever heard tales

of winged men?"

"No. There's nothing in the cassettes either. I've got

to do something about this. Prikazyvat Voice off." Jeffer

made for the airlock without waiting to see the face fade.

His citizens wouldn't have a chance against winged war-

riors!

The sun was at three o'clock: dead east, just above

where the Smoke Ring began to take definite shape.

Kendy can only talk, sure, but he talks with pictures, and

he tells things nobody can know. He'll be in range every

other day at this time. Do I want to know that? But Jeffer

had other concerns, and the rest of that thought lay curled

unfinished in the bottom of his mind.

Jill was leaving Rather behind. She glanced back once

and moved on, and there was laughter in the sound of her

panting.

Jill was his elder by half a year. When he wanted com-

pany it was generally Jill he wanted; but they did compete.

There had been a year during which she could beat him

at wrestling, when she suddenly grew tall and he'd lagged

behind. She'd taught him the riblock the hard way: she'd

held his floating ribs shut with her knees so that he

couldn't breathe. He could wrestle her now—he was a

boy and a dwarf—but her longer arms and legs gave her

an unbeatable advantage at racing. He'd never catch her.

So he moved outward at his own pace, giving due care

to his handholds and footholds in the rough bark, follow-

ing the blond girl in the scarlet tunic. Her long-limbed

mother had already reached the CARM ahead of them.

At fourteen-plus. Rather was considered an adult. He

was built wide and muscular, with heavy cheek, jaw, and

orbital bones. His fingers were short and stubby, and his

toes, though strong, were too short to be much use. His

hair was black and curly like his mother's. His beard was

sparse, without much curl to it yet. His eyes were green

30 / Larry Niven

(and green tinged his cheek, with a growth of fluff that

would be many days healing). He stood a meter and three-

quarters tall.

Dwarf. Arms too short, legs too short. He should have

gone around the trunk. Jill could have told the Scientist

about the burning tree; Debby might already know. He

could have been getting a closer look!

The CARM loomed ahead of him. It was as big ...

no, bigger than the Citizens Tree commons.

Debby shouted into the airlock. Someone emerged:

Jeffer. They talked, heads bobbing. Debby moved to the

front of the CARM; Jeffer was about to go back inside—

Rather heard Jill calling. "Scientist! There's a burning

tree coming toward us!" She paused to catch her breath.

"We saw it, me and Rather, we—while we were swim-

ming—"

Jeffer called back. "Debby told me. Did you see any-

thing like winged men"?"

"... No."

"Okay. Help Debby with the moorings, there at the

bow." He noticed Rather struggling in Jill's wake. "Get

Rather to help you."

Debby and Jill were both fighting knots, and Jill was

muttering "Treefodder, treefodder, treefodder," when

Rather caught up. "I bent my finger," she said.

Debby said, "I hate to cut lines. See what you can

do."

The CARM's tethers hadn't been moved in years, and

the knots were tight. Rather's stubby fingers worked them

loose. Dwarf. Clumsy but strong. Presently the CARM

was held by nothing but its own inertia. Jill did not look

pleased. Debby and Rather grinned at each other. It was

something, to do a thing an adult warrior could not!

Jeffer called from the airlock, twelve meters beyond

the bark. "Come aboard!"

Debby jumped and Jill followed. Rather hesitated until

he saw them bump against the airlock door. The jump

THE SMOKE RING / 31

looked dangerous. Tide was gentle, but one could fa\\ into

the sky. Rather had never been inside the CARM, and he

wasn't sure he wanted to be. The starstuff box was like

nothing else in or on the tree.

But he had to follow. He caught the edge of the outer

door as it passed, pivoted on the strength of his arms, and

entered feet first. Can't jump right, can't reach far. What

if I'a missed?

It was weird inside the CARM. There were openings

in the back wall, and hard round loops sticking out of the

dorsal and side walls. Farther toward the front were rows

of cradles almost the size of an adult, ten in all, made of

nothing like wood or cloth.

Rather made his way forward. The others were in the

first row of cradles. "Take a seat and strap yourself in,"

Jeffer ordered. "Here, like this." He fastened two elastic

tethers across Jill's torso. "Lawri showed me how to

work these, years ago."

The cradle had a headrest that fitted nicely behind his

ears. Jill's and Debby's dug into their shoulders. It's true,

Rather thought suddenly. The CARM was built for

dwarves! He liked the thought.

"The winged men weren't very close," the Scientist

said. "We've got time." His fingers drummed against the

flat panel below the window.

There was tide pulling Rather forward, and a whisper-

roar like a steady wind. The bark receded; the tree backed

into the sky. Jill gripped the armrests of her cradle. Her

mouth was wide. Debby said, "Clave didn't say take off,

Scientist. He said get ready."

"No time. They're headed for the trunk. Also the

CARM is mine, Debby. We settled that once."

"Tell it to Clave."

"Clave knows."

The invaders kicked themselves through the air,

slowly, in the last stages of exhaustion. Five, it looked

32 / Larry Niven

like, until Rather realized that the older woman carried a

half-grown girl in her arms.

Jeffer nudged the CARM toward them, in along the

trunk.

Smoke Ring people came long, longer, or dwarf. These

invaders were of the longer persuasion, like jungle giants,

born and raised in free-fall. They were quite human: an

older man and woman and four girls. The wings were ar-

tificial, bound to their shins, made of cloth over splayed

ribs. One girl trailed behind, struggling along with only

one wing.

They were in sorry shape. Closer now, and Rather

could see details. The man's hair was burned, and the

loose sheet that covered him was charred. The wingless

girl was coughing; she didn't even have the strength to

cling to the woman who carried her.

Their legs stopped pumping as, one by one, they saw

the CARM.

Debby said, "I don't see anything like bows or har-

poons. Can we take them aboard?"

"I thought of that, but look at them. The CARM scares

them worse than being lost in the sky. Anyway, the man's

almost there."

The burned man hadn't seen them. Kicking steadily,

far ahead of the others, he reached the bark and clung.

Without a pause he pounded a stake into the bark, moored

a coil of line, and hurled the coil at the older woman. She

freed a hand and caught it, pulled herself toward the tree,

then snapped the line to send a sine wave rolling toward

the trunk. The nearer girl caught the line in her toes as it

bowed toward her.

Clave came around the bulge of the bark. He slowed

when he saw the strangers. Gavving and Minya joined

him. They moved toward the strangers.

There were four on the trunk now: a girl, the man, and

the older woman with her coughing burden. Rather

THE SMOKE RING / 33

watched Clave take the burned man's line, hurl a sine

wave across the one-winged girl's torso, and pull her in.

"Looks okay," the Scientist murmured.

Clave looked up and waved. Jeffer nodded and set the

CARM moving. "It's all right," he said. "They sure don't

look dangerous. I wonder what happened to them? Where

are they/row?"

"I never saw strangers before," Jill said. "I don't

know what to think."

"That burning tree is still coming at us," Rather said.

Jeffer nodded. The CARM surged, turning.

Black smoke wreathed the middle section of the tree.

Flame glowed sluggishly from within, illuminating blurred

curves and oblongs. Debby said, "There's stuff in the fire.

Made stuff, machinery. It'll burn up."

That was knowledge burning in the core of the fire.

Jeffer hated what he had to say. "We can't save it. If we

had Mark and the silver suit. . .no. That might burn even

him."

"You're not taking us into the fire?"

"We can push anywhere. The tide will hold the tree

straight." Jeffer had already taken them below the inward

limit of the firecloud, where a black plume drifted east.

The CARM was passing north of the trunk. Jeffer tapped:

the CARM turned. "It's still dangerous. The tree could

come apart while we're on it."

He moved in on the trunk. The bow grated against

bark; Jeffer's crew surged forward against their elastic

bands. "I think the CARM was built for pushing," he

said. He tapped a blue dash in the center of the panel,

and the whisper of power became a whistling roar. Tide

surged against his back.

This was what it was to be a Scientist. Knowledge,

power, mastery of a universe. This was what Kendy the

Checker had to offer. At what price? Who but a Scientist

would have the strength to resist?

34 / Larry Niven

The sun passed zenith and started down its arc. Jeffer

had changed the display; he watched sets of letters and

numbers. The roar of the main motor strummed his

bones.

Chapter Three

Refugees

from the Citizens Tree cassettes, year 4 SM:

TIME

WE'VE BEEN TRYING TO KEEP TO EARTH TIME, BUT

THAT WORD "DAY" IS ABOUT AS USEFUL AS BALLS ON

A CHECKER. THE CLOSER YOU GET TO VOY, THE

SHORTER THE DAYS GET, DOWN TO ABOUT TWO HOURS.

CLOSER THAN THAT, THE AIR'S TOO THIN AND THERE'S

NO WATER TO SPEAK OF. AT A TEN-HOUR ORBIT, SAME

THING, THERE'S NOTHING TO BREATHE. WE'VE BEEN

KEEPING TO SHIP-TIME. TWENTY-FOUR HOURS CONSTI-

TUTE A "SLEEP." A "DAY" IS ONE ORBIT AROUND

VOY, WHEREVER YOU HAPPEN TO BE. GOLD'S ORBIT IS

A "STANDARD DAY."

THE STATE TAKES ITS DATES FROM THE YEAR OF ITS

FOUNDING. WE'VE DONE THE SAME, DATING SMOKE

RING YEARS FROM FOUR YEARS AGO. OUR YEARS ARE

35

36 / Larry Niven THE SMOKE RING / 37

HALF A ROTATION OF VOY AND ITS COMPANION SUN . . .

HALF BECAUSE IT'S MORE CONVENIENT.

IF DISCIPLINE EVER DOES COME BACK FOR US,

KENDY WILL HAVE TO LEARN A WHOLE NEW LAN-

GUAGE.

—MICHELLE MICHAELS, COMMUNICATIONS

THE HUTS OF CITIZENS TREE WERE ENCLOSURES MADE BY

weaving living spine branches into a kind of wicker-work.

The Scientists' hut was larger than most, and more clut-

tered too.

The Scientists were the tribe's teachers and doctors.

Any hut would have harpoons protruding from the walls

and high ceiling; but here the wicker sprouted starstuff

knives, pots of herbs and pastes, and tools for writing.

The hut was crowded. Lawri stepped carefully among

five sleeping jungle giants.

She'd covered their wounds in undyed cloth. The

strangers moaned and twisted in their sleep. The youngest

girl, with her hair burned down to the scalp on one side

of her head, was holding herself half in the air.

The noise from outside wasn't helping. Lawri bent to

get through the doorway. "Could you hold it down!" she

whisper-snarled. "These citizens don't need . . . oh.

Clave . . . Chairman, I'm trying to give them some quiet.

Can you take the talk to the commons?"

Clave and Anthon were intimidated into silence. Jeffer

asked, "Can any of them answer questions?"

"They're asleep. They haven't said anything sensi-

ble."

Her husband merely nodded. Lawri went back in. Rus-

tling sounds receded. For a moment she felt remorse. Jef-

fer would want to see the strangers as much as anyone.

When the burns healed, the strangers would be hand-

some, but in weird fashion. Only birds wore the gaudy

colors of their scorched clothing. Their skin was dark;

their lips and noses were broad; their hair was like black

pillows.

The youngest girl stirred, thrashed, and opened her

eyes. "Tide," she said wonderingly. The dark eyes fo-

cused. "Who're you?"

"I'm Lawri the Scientist. You're in Citizens Tree.

You're safe now."

The girl twisted to see the others. "Wend?"

"One of you died."

The girl moaned.

"Can you tell me who you are and how you came

here?"

"I'm Carlot," the girl said. Two tears were growing.

"We're Serjent House. Loggers. There was afire ... the

whole tree caught fire. Wend got caught when the water

tank let go." She shook her head; teardrop globules flew

wide.

"All right, Carlot. Have some water, then go to sleep."

Carlot's drinking technique was surprising. She took

the pottery vessel, set two fingers to nearly block the

opening, then jerked the pottery vessel toward her face.

The jet of water struck her lower lip. She tried again and

reached her mouth.

"Would you like something to eat? Foliage?"

"What's that?"

Lawri went out to strip some branchlets of their foli-

age. Carlot looked dubiously at the fluffy green stuff.

"Oh, it's greens."

"You know it?"

"I've been in a tree tuft." She tasted it. "This is sweet.

Older tree?" She continued eating.

Lawri said, "Later I'll get you some stew. You should

sleep now."

Carlot patted the wicker floor. "How can I sleep with

this pushing up against me? All my blood wants to settle

on one side."

38 / Larry Niven

London Tree, Lawn's home, had been bigger, with a

stronger tide. In Citizens Tree you could drop a stone

from eye level and draw a slow breath and let it out before

the stone struck. But this Carlot must be used to no tide

at all.

She turned over, gingerly. Her eyes closed and she was

asleep.

They moved through the green gloom of the corridor,

back toward the commons. Anthon said, "I always won-

dered. Lawri doesn't take orders from you either, does

she?"

Jeffer laughed. "Treefodder, no!"

Clave said, "I really wanted to ask them some ques-

tions before we tackle the firetree."

"We can't wait," Jeffer said. "Let's go see what we

can scavenge. This is the most interesting thing that has

happened to us in fourteen years."

"It's bound to bring changes."

"Like what?"

Clave grinned at Jeffer. "They've already changed

your home life. You can't sleep in the Scientists' hut and

Lawri won't leave."

"I've got the children too. I'm living in the bachelors'

longhut with my three kids and Rather. Look, I want to

go now, before that burned tree drifts too far. Anthon?"

"Ready," said the jungle giant.

Clave nodded, reluctantly. "Just us three? Stet. We'll

round up some kids to run the treadmill. And let's take

those wings along. I want to try them."

The tree still burned. Fire had eaten six or seven klom-

ters in from the midpoint along the lee side, progressing

alongside the waterfall channel, where there was partial

protection from the wind. The flames streamed east like

the mane of a skyhorse. At the midpoint there were only

red patches glowing in black char. In the center of the

;                           THE SMOKE RING / 39

,  burn was a prominent uneven lump. Jeffer eased the

I  CARM toward that.

Clave said, "I don't understand why it hasn't come

,  apart."

Anthon nodded uneasily. Jeffer said, " It' s a short tree.

I  With a tuft missing it's even shorter. Tide would pull

harder on a grown tree, but that thing could still come

apart while we're on it. I don't ever want to go through

that again."

Anthon asked, "Why do trees come apart?"

"They do it when they're dying," Clave said.

Jeffer said, "When a tree drifts too far away from the

Smoke Ring median, it starves. It saves itself by coming

i  apart. The tide takes half of it out, half in. One half falls

;   back to where the water and fertilizer are. The other half

... dies, I guess."

"I still don't see any bugs," Clave said. "It's the bugs

!   that eat a tree apart, isn't it? The tree isn't getting fed,

so the bark lets the bugs get inside—"

|     "I don't know everything, Clave."

:     "Pity."

They were close enough now to make out black lumps

at the center of the charred region. There: a shape like a

huge seed pod split open from inside. There: a thin shell

of char, a bell shape not unlike the fire-spitting nostrils

at the CARM's aft end. A ridge of white ash joined the

•   bell to the split pod. Beyond: several fragile sheets of

charred wood, the remains of an oblong hut with interior

walls.

'     Clave reached for the wings he'd bound to cargo hooks.

"Scientist, can you hold the CARM here? We'll go see

:   what there is to see. If the tree breaks in half, you'll still

have us tethered."

i     Jeffer stifled a protest. He ached to explore that ruined

|   structure, but— "I can handle it. Take lines too."

i     The sun would be dead east in a few tens of breaths.

A stick protruded from the butt end of each fan-shaped

40 / Larry Niven

wing. After some experimentation they settled for lining

the stick along their shins and binding them with the

straps. The wings tended to hang up on things even when

folded. Clave and Anthon wriggled through the airlock

and flapped into the sky.

Jeffer tapped the white button. "Prikazyvat Voice,"

he said.

The CARM said, "Ready, Jeffer the Scientist."

Clave and Anthon fluttered erratically through the air.

Suddenly Anthon moved purposefully toward the blister

of charred machinery, moving easily, as if he had always

been a bird. Clave moved after him, fighting a tendency

to veer left.