Man-Kzin Wars III by Larry Niven (good short books TXT) 📕

Table of Contents

MADNESS HAS ITS PLACE by Larry Niven

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

THE ASTEROID QUEEN by J.E. Pournelle & S.M. Stirling

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

INCONSTANT STAR by Poul Anderson

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXII

MAN-KZIN WARS III

Larry Niven

with

Poul Anderson,

J. E. Pournelle,

and

S. M. Stirling

Man-Kzin Wars III

Larry Niven

Those war-crazed fur-balls from the planet Kzin just won’t give up, even though the canny pseudo-pacifists from Planet Earth cut through the Kzinti like a laser through catmeat (once the humans rediscovered old technologies and old instincts that never quite bred out). The ferocious Kzinti never seemed to be able to come up with a more complicated strategy than “Scream and Leap.”

But after three hard-fought wars, a few of the powerful pussycats have learned from their foes. Now, they are ready, and all that stands between freedom and a feline-filled universe is the human race. Good luck, monkey-boys.

MAN-KZIN WARS III

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 1990 by Larry Niven

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

A Baen Books Original

Baen Publishing Enterprises

260 Fifth Avenue

New York, N.Y. 10001

ISBN: 0-671-72008-2

eISBN: 978-1-62579-636-3

Cover art by Steve Hickman

First printing, August 1990

Distributed by

SIMON & SCHUSTER

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, N.Y. 10020

Printed in the United States of America

Electronic Version by Baen Books

www.baen.com

MADNESS HAS ITS PLACE

Larry Niven

Copyright © 1990 by Larry Niven

Chapter I

A lucky few of us know the good days before they’re gone.

I remember my eighties. My job kept me in shape, and gave me enough variety to keep my mind occupied. My love life was imperfect but interesting. Modern medicine makes the old fairy tales look insipid; I almost never worried about my health.

Those were the good days, and I knew them. I could remember worse.

I can remember when my memory was better too. That’s what this file is for. I keep it updated for that reason, and also to maintain my sense of purpose.

* * *

The Monobloc had been a singles bar since the 2320s.

In the ’30s I’d been a regular. I’d found Charlotte there. We held our wedding reception at the Monobloc, then dropped out for twenty-eight years. My first marriage, hers too, both in our forties. After the children grew up and moved away, after Charlotte left me too, I came back.

The place was much changed.

I remembered a couple of hundred bottles in the hologram bar display. Now the display was twice as large and seemed more realistic—better equipment, maybe—but only a score of bottles in the middle were liquors. The rest were flavored or carbonated water, high-energy drinks, electrolytes, a thousand kinds of tea; food to match, raw vegetables and fruits kept fresh by high-tech means, arrayed with low-cholesterol dips; bran in every conceivable form short of injections.

The Monobloc had swallowed its neighbors. It was bigger, with curtained alcoves, and a small gym upstairs for working out or for dating.

Herbert and Tina Schroeder still owned the place. Their marriage had been open in the ’30s. They’d aged since. So had their clientele. Some of us had married or drifted away or died of alcoholism; but word of mouth and the Velvet Net had maintained a continuous tradition. Twenty-eight years later they looked better than ever . . . wrinkled, of course, but lean and muscular, both ready for the Gray Olympics. Tina let me know before I could ask: she and Herb were lockstepped now.

To me it was like coming home.

* * *

For the next twelve years the Monobloc was an intermittent part of my life.

I would find a lady, or she would find me, and we’d drop out. Or we’d visit the Monobloc and sometimes trade partners; and one evening we’d go together and leave separately. I was not evading marriage. Every woman I found worth knowing, ultimately seemed to want to know someone else.

I was nearly bald even then. Thick white hair covered my arms and legs and torso, as if my head hairs had migrated. Twelve years of running construction robots had turned me burly. From time to time some muscular lady would look me over and claim me. I had no trouble finding company.

But company never stayed. Had I become dull? The notion struck me as funny.

* * *

I had settled myself alone at a table for two, early on a Thursday evening in 2375. The Monobloc was half empty. The earlies were all keeping one eye on the door when Anton Brillov came in.

Anton was shorter than me, and much narrower, with a face like an axe. I hadn’t seen him in thirteen years. Still, I’d mentioned the Monobloc once or twice; he must have remembered.

I semaphored my arms. Anton squinted, then came over, exaggeratedly cautious until he saw who it was.

“Jack Strather!”

“Hi, Anton. So you decided to try the place?”

“Yah.” He sat. “You look good.” He looked a moment longer and said, “Relaxed. Placid. How’s Charlotte?”

“Left me after I retired. Just under a year after. There was too much of me around and I . . . maybe I was too placid? Anyway. How are you?”

“Fine.”

Twitchy. Anton looked twitchy. I was amused. “Still with the Holy Office?”

“Only citizens call it that, Jack.”

“I’m a citizen. Still gives me a kick. How’s your chemistry?”

Anton knew what I meant and didn’t pretend otherwise. “I’m okay. I’m down.”

“Kid, you’re looking over both shoulders at once.”

Anton managed a credible laugh. “I’m not the kid any more. I’m a weekly.”

The ARM had made me a weekly at forty-eight. They couldn’t turn me loose at the end of the day any more, because my body chemistry couldn’t shift fast enough. So they kept me in the ARM building Monday through Thursday, and gave me