Man-Kzin Wars XIII-ARC by Larry Niven Page A

was ‘intact’ I should probably qualify. It is intact compared to other kzinti ships we have taken, all of which—as far as I know—have been complete wrecks.”
    A touch of bitterness in that “as far as I know,” Jenni thought. Competition then between the spooks? Yes. I think so.
    “This ship has a functioning drive and functioning life support. The computer systems appear to be fried, as are the weapons systems.”
    He looked at Jenni and seemed to interpret her expression as one of disapproval when all she’d been thinking was how nice it would be if Theophilus came in with more cocoa. She really was very tired. Walking a kzin up and down corridors for hours was more demanding than others might imagine, since she never dared be anything but completely alert. She knew that her finger on the tranquilizer gun stood been her life and death—and quite likely the life or death of her patient.
    “Yes,” she said, trying to sound as encouraging as possible. “I can imagine it would be impossible to take a kzinti vessel without disabling the weapons systems. Computers are fragile at the best of times.”
    Otto seemed satisfied. At least he now zeroed in on the point of this interview.
    “Without being able to access their computer, we’re having difficulty figuring out how the ship works. From escaped captives, we’ve learned a little of the written version of the Heroes’ Tongue, but, frankly, we don’t have a strong technical vocabulary.”
    Jenni could see where this was headed and decided that seeming cooperative and eager was her best move.
    “And you’re wondering if the prisoner might be able to help,” she said. She sucked in her lips, considering. “He might. I’ve gotten him using a limited Interworld vocabulary, but I will admit, it’s not heavy on the technological stuff.”
    “I thought you said you thought he already spoke Interworld,” Miffy said suspiciously.
    “I did and I do,” she said carefully. “However, I think he may not have had as wide a vocabulary as I believed. I think what I was seeing was an awareness of patterns and a few words, rather the way you can watch a movie with subtitles in a language you don’t know, catch a few familiar words, and so ‘hear’ meaning that you couldn’t actually translate.”
    Miffy blinked, then nodded. “Yes. I see what you mean. You’ve been teaching him Interworld. Do you think he knows enough to explain to us how parts of the ship work?”
    “I’m not certain,” Jenni replied. “You’d need to make your questions very concrete—not ‘What does this do?’ or even ‘What does that red button do?’ You’d need to show him—and I fear that you’d also need to permit him some hands-on opportunities to demonstrate.”
    “Maybe,” Miffy said. “Maybe eventually. I believe at first we could manage with a holographic reproduction. No need to let him near the ship. No need to take undue risks.”
    * * *
    The kzin could smell a new tang—Was it fear? Was it tension?—in Dr. Anixter’s sweat when she came to his room. When the door into the corridor swished open and shut, he caught another scent, that of Otto Bismarck. Something unusual was about to happen.
    He learned what this was when their walk—which was along some tunnels he did not think he and Dr. Anixter had ever visited before—terminated rather more quickly than was usual at a room that managed to simultaneously seem both cramped and quite large.
    The reason for this contradictory sensation was that while the chamber—a natural air pocket, the kzin thought, within the metal ore of the asteroid that the humans had adapted and converted into this base—was ample and spacious, the only part of the chamber that was lit was a relatively small area near the center.
    Without the natural olfactory and auditory cues on which he usually relied, it took the kzin a moment to “see” what was represented within that lit area. When he recognized what he was being shown, his