Niven, Larry - Destiny's Road

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2024-12-22 0 0 927.94KB 566 页 5.9玖币

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Tom Doherty, my publisher, who was quietly patient; my former

agent Eleanor Wood, with no stake in the book, who waited with the

rest;

Jerry Pournelle, my frequent collaborator, who made numerous valu-

able suggestions as did Robert Gleason, my frequent editor;

and Michael Whelan who displayed his magnificent cover painting at

the Chicago Worldcon five years ago. He has waited with no patience at

all. Our landscapes no longer quite match. . but the tree on the peak is

his, and I snatched it up and made it the Destiny fool cage.

Thank you all.

Oliver Carter

Will Coffey

Wayne Parnelli, Marine Biology

2711 A.D., Spiral Town- JEMMY BLOOCHER aka TIM HANN, TIM

BEDNACOURT, JEREMY WINSLOW

MARGERY and WILLIAM BLOOCHER. Jemmy's Parents,

The other children: MARGERY JUNIOR, BRENDA, THONNY,

GREEGRY and JANE

the spring caravan

Doheny__infirmary and refuge. #1, front wagon.

Spadonj__ammunition and secret weapons. #2

Dionne_shark shells and other frivolities, #5

Lyon_cookware #6

Armstrong_tents and bedding, #7

Ihn-Rushd wagon-cookware, #8

Senka, Rian, Damon, Joker (Dzhokhar), and Shireen

Hal Gleeber (chef)

Bord'n (or Boardman)

Forty Randall (chef)

Hal

Tim Bednacourt

The Windfarm

Andrew Dowd

Barda Winslow

Shimon Cartaya

Amnon Kaczinski

Denis Bouvoire

Dennis Levoy

Rita and Dolores Nogales

Rafik Doe

Ansel Tarr

Jemmy/Jeremy Bloocher

Henry

Harold and Espania Winslow

Karen Winslow

Karen's merchant child- Mustafa

Jeremy's and Karen's children-

Judy Cole married

Eileen Wheeler married John Wheeler.

Brenda Winslow married

the autumn caravan

Lall Wagon- Medical, #1

Palava Maiku

Hearst Wagon- Cookware, #6

Glen Hearst

Tanya and Angelo Hearst

Harlow and Jeremy Winslow

Steban, yutz chef

Miller Wagon- Cookware, #8 Govert Miller

-Naren Singh,

Secretary-General,

United Nations, 2427 A.D.

2722 AD., Spiral Town

Junior at fourteen had grown tall enough to reach the highest cup-

board. She stretched up on tiptoe, found the speckles shaker by feel,

and brought it down. Then she saw what was happening to the bacon.

She shouted, "Jemjemjemmv!"

Jemmy's eleven-year-old mind was all in the world beyond the win-

dow.

Junior snatched up a pot holder and moved the pan off the burner.

The bacon wasn't burned, not yet. not quite.

Sorry," Jemmy said without turning. 'Junior, there's a caravan

coming."

'You never saw a caravan." Junior looked through the long window,

northeastward "Dust. Maybe it's the caravan. Here, turn this."

They ate bread and scrambled hen s eggs and orange juice. Brenda,

who was ten, fed Jane, who was four months old. Mom and Dad had

been up for hours doing farmwork. Mom was eating poached platyfish

eggs. Platyfish were Destiny life; their bodies didn't make fat. Mom

was trying to lose weight.

Jemmy wolfed his breakfast, for all the good that did. The rest of

the children were finished too. The younger kids squirmed like their

chairs were on fire; but you couldn't ask Mom and Dad to hurry. They

weren't exactly dawdling, but the kids' urgency amused them.

The long window was behind Jemmy. If he turned his back on the

rest of the family, Dad would snap at him.

Junior emptied her coffee mug with no sign of haste, very adult, and

set it down. "Mom, can you handle Jane and Ronny?"

Seven-year-old Ronny gaped in shock. Before he could scream, Mom

said, "I'll take care of the baby, dear, but you take Ronny with you. He

has to do his schoolwork."

Ronny relaxed, though his eyes remained wary. Junior stood. Her

voice became a drill sergeant's. "We set?"

kept up with them. She wasn t trying to catch Jemmy, who at eleven

had no dignity to protect.

The sun wasn't above the mountains yet, but Quicksilver was, a

bright spark dim in daylight.

The line of elms was as old as Bloocher House. They were twentyfive

meters from the front of the house, the last barrier between Bloocher

Farm and the Road. To Jemmy they seemed to partition earth and sky.

He ran between two elms and was first to reach the Road.

To the right the Road curved gradually toward Spiral Town. Left,

northwest, it ran straight into the unknown. That way lay Warkan Farm,

where four mid-teens stood in pairs to watch the dust plume come

near.

The Warkan children had been schooled at Bloocher House, as had

their parents before them. Then, when Jemmy was six, the Bloocher

household computer died. For the next week or two Dad was silent and

dangerous. Jemmy came to understand that a major social disaster had

taken place.

Road were running alongside. Their voices carried a long way, but it was

too far to make out words.

His siblings had filtered between the trees. They lined the Road,

waiting. Jemmy looked toward the Warkan kids; looked back at Junior;

saw her shake her head. He said, "Aw, Junior. What about class?"

"Wait," Junior said.

Of course there had been no serious thought of rushing to class.

Not with a caravan coming! They'd make up missed classes afterward.

Computer programs would wait, and a human teacher was rarely needed.

Children began to separate at Junior's age. Boys spoke only to boys,

girls to girls. Jemmy knew that much. Maybe he'd understand why,

when he was older. Now he only knew that Junior would speak to him

only to give orders. He missed his big sister, and Junior hadn't even

gone anywhere.

If Junior went to join the Warkan girls, the Warkan boys would

stare at her and rack their brains thinking of some excuse to talk to

her. So Jemmy almost understood why the whole family simply waited

by the elms while the wagons came near.

them, boys and girls together, it didn t matter. A few minutes later

the troop had reached the Bloocher children.

It was Jemmy's first close view of a chug.

The beasts were small and compact. They forged ahead at a steady

walking pace, twenty to a cart. They stood as high as Jemmy's short

ribs. Their shells were the ocher of beach sand. Their wrinkled leather

bellies were pale. Their beaks looked like wire cutters, dangerous, and

each head was crowned by a flat cap of ocher shell. They showed no

awareness of the world around them.

The wagons stood on tall wheels. Their sides dropped open to form

shelves, and merchants grinned down from inside.

Jemmy let the first two wagons pass him by. Junior had already

forgotten him; the rest of the children went with her, though Thonny

looked back once. No eyes were on him when he reached out to stroke

one of the chugs. The act seemed headily dangerous. The shell was

paper-smooth.

The chug swiveled one eye to see him.

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TomDoherty,mypublisher,whowasquietlypatient;myformeragentEleanorWood,withnostakeinthebook,whowaitedwiththerest;JerryPournelle,myfrequentcollaborator,whomadenumerousvalu-ablesuggestionsasdidRobertGleason,myfrequenteditor;andMichaelWhelanwhodisplayedhismagnificentcoverpaintingattheChicagoWorldconfivey...

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Niven, Larry - Destiny's Road

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