Choosing Names: Man-Kzin Wars VIII by Larry Niven (the best books to read TXT) 📗

was startled to see the rett by herself again, but not very much. No doubt any human who’d lasted this long had good reflexes. Where was the monkey-boy this time?

Then he caught the true taste and smell of the rett’s mind. He hissed in astonishment. How stupid he’d been! Just because females of the Hero’s Race were properly docile, he’d assumed those of the enemy were that way as well. The depth of her duplicity awed him. She’d even used his weakness for liquor against him.

It took only a moment to realize this and act. She planned something evil for the food they ate, he was sure of it. The crew and commander must be warned—but not until he’d destroyed the enemy and removed her menace forever. She might all too easily convince the rest that she was just a silly rett, while he was only imagining things. He had been drinking more than usual lately and he knew what the weaponsmaster thought.

He snarled and batted her against the wall. He might as well get some decent amusement out of it. Then she flung a jug at him, clearly desperate. He clawed it away, only to gasp in horror at the acrid stuff that came out of it. Once he was halfway free of it, the human faced him with a knife in her hand. He almost laughed. No puny blade was a match for the ones the Hero’s Race were born with!

He roared in shock and horror as he watched his claws fall onto the floor. He instinctively struck with the other, only to lose them as well. The human came close enough to thrust at his face. He beat at her with his arms, only to feel the knife brush lightly at his face. Blood poured down and ruined his vision.

Syet had been in duels before. Not even telepaths could avoid them all the time. He jumped into Marybeth’s mind as he assumed a fighting stance that allowed him use of his hind claws. He had learned long ago to watch himself without losing track of where he was. It was odd looking out of the alien’s eyes and watching his own blood stream down onto the floor, but no odder than realizing her long, deadly plans to poison them all. He left just enough of himself in his body to make it hop toward the human. He had no idea he appeared so large and terrifying to the female. Then he squeezed her mind from the inside. As he hoped, she panicked and fled. One blow from a hind claw would rip her spine from her body. He had to act quickly, though, before she reached the vent system.

He was shocked back into his body as he ran into the overhang. Syet mewed with pain and astonishment. What a fool he’d been to forget how much smaller the alien was. As much as he hated to, he was going to call for help. The crew’s safety was more important than his own humiliation . . .

* * *

Marybeth turned around as her mind was suddenly free of the overpowering shadow of fear that had possessed her before. She hadn’t been thinking. If she hid in the vents, Snaggletooth would be free to warn the rest of the kzinti about her. As a telepath, he might warn them about the food, too.

Snaggletooth just stood there in back of the overhang. Then he began to move away. She couldn’t let him get away, even if it cost her life! At first she’d just wanted to live. Then she’d wanted revenge. Now she just wanted to kill. Even if she was caught, she had to silence the telepath before it was too late.

She swiftly ran back into the galley, her feet sticky with Snaggletooth’s blood. For a moment, he turned toward her and began to open his mouth. Marybeth thrust the knife into the alien’s throat and slid it as far in as possible. The blade scraped a little on the thick vertebrae in back and then kept going. Snaggletooth shuddered, then fell forward. She tried to get out of his way in time, but couldn’t, though she did get her knees up. She was nearly suffocated by his weight, the same way she’d been the one other time she’d had to use this blade . . .

He wasn’t moving. The smell of his blood nearly made her throw up, but at least it wasn’t hers. In fact, it was still slick enough underneath for her to wiggle to one side. Fortunately her knees kept her from being totally crushed. She turned so she was on her side. Snaggletooth’s body fell further, but the hilt of the knife caught on what was left of the telepath’s neck and propped him up as she braced it on the floor. It only left her six inches to maneuver in, but it was certainly better than being pinned down forever.

She finally dragged herself out from under Snaggletooth and took a big breath of air. Her ribs hurt some, but that appeared to be all. This was not a fun date, she said solemnly to herself.

Then she heard the hum of lights that signaled change of shift. She didn’t have much time till the others would start coming down for breakfast. If there were only some way she could retrieve her knife, but she didn’t see how. She decided to bluff her way out. First, she cleaned herself up. She had new bruises all over, but they blended in nicely with the ones she’d had before. After a moment’s thought, she smeared some blood on the drawer that held all the kitchen knives.

As soon as Furball showed up for his serving, she went hysterical. She wasn’t acting. She mimed a big, nasty fight, showed him the dent in the overhang where Snaggletooth had hit his head, and tried to indicate that “the other one went thataway.” When Furball tried to question her, she sketched out a height not