Two hours and twenty minutes was a plausible guess. Louis said, “Stet. You’d best assume there’s another Repair Center on the far side of the Ringworld Arch, and a protector inside.”

“Why a protector? Mind you, Louis, I think so, too.”

“A protector would find a way in. If a hominid got in somehow—a breeder—he’ll be a protector by now. The other Repair Center must be infested with tree-of-life, like ours was. Is this what you wanted me for? You know almost as much about protectors as I do, and it’s dead of night here, so my brain may not be fully functional.”

“Age, too, may have affected your brain. We do need to talk, and I have more to show you. Louis, shall I appear to the Weavers and acknowledge your power? Or shall I not?”

“Thoughtful of you, but that may be out of our hands.” The locals slept, but Fishers or Sailors must have seen this glare, and who could know when a Ghoul was nearby?

Actually …

The Hindmost missed Louis’s sudden grin. He said, “These Weavers seem hospitable.”

“Every species around the Great Ocean is friendly if you watch your mouth.”

“What news of our companions?”

“Chmeee took an assault vehicle to carry his gear. Didn’t you have a webeye on that?”

“He buried it,” the Hindmost said.

Louis laughed.

“He can unearth it if he has need. What of the City Builders?”

Louis said, “Kawaresksenjajok and Harkabeeparolyn had two children to raise and another on the way. I won’t say we were bored with each other, but … futz. I put them off at a village downstream from here, with one of the assault boats. They’re teaching there and along the far shore. How are you?”

“Not presentable. Louis—” Three silver blobs bouncing down the slope of Fist-of-God were replaced by a glare of snow, a mountain ridge in broad daylight. A green outline blinked around two dots crawling through a cleft in the ridge. “—let me direct your attention to these. Ten years ago I showed you—”

“I remember. Is this the same view?”

“Yes, as of three days ago, taken from the rim of a floating structure above a vampire nest.”

“Is this what you’ve been showing the Weavers?”

“Yes.” The view zoomed. Those were great crude six-wheeled vehicles, possibly powered by steam. One of them was turning back, upslope. The view zoomed on the other, on the driving bench. “These are Machine People?”

Louis looked. “Right. Note the beards. Looks like Machine People vehicles, too. Hey …”

“Louis, my computer’s recognition program—”

“That’s Valavirgillin!”

The Barrier of Flame had been given a low, eroded look.

None but Valavirgillin would see mountains that way. Louis Wu of the Ball People had taught her to view the world as a mask. He and his weird companions had looked up into its black underside, where seas were bulges, mountain ranges were chains of pits, and tremendous pipes carried seabottom flup under the world and over the rim wall to become spill mountains.

Some entity had carved the Barrier of Flame to suit esthetic whims. Had carved passes through the range for the convenience of travelers. Various Red tribes and their herds had followed the retreating mirror-flowers across Snowrunner’s Pass. Two of these same Reds now guided the cruisers.

Night was biting an edge from the sun as the cruisers crossed the crest of Snowrunner’s Pass. None of them had seen blue sky in many falans. They gloried in it. Unbroken clouds spread below them. There was snow on the ground, not deep but enough to cause the wheels to slide. Vala had trouble steering. To left and right the mountains flamed, raw sunlight reflecting from snowfields.

Below and behind the driving bench, Waast was telling someone unseen, “We didn’t see snow when we crossed here. The mirror-flowers burned it all away.”

Her bulk had half hidden Tegger. He said, “Mirror-flowers don’t like clouds. They burn anything that moves. Waast, is it good to separate the wagons this late in the day?”

“One must decide,” Waast said firmly.

The Red Herder frowned. “Of course the pilot gives the orders. But, look you, mates have been separated. Valavirgillin and Kaywerbrimmis. Grieving Tube and Harpster, too. Kaywerbrimmis and Chitakumishad are both male. What if vampires come? Warvia and I are safe separated. Beedj is with you, Paroom is with Twuk, Manack is with Coriack, but what of the rest?”

Vala steered Cruiser One down the long slope, pretending not to listen. This was how a Red Herder expressed his dissent, by letting it be overheard. Mates! The next turn put her in sight of a wide brown river.

The Reds were of a monogamous race, and mated. They didn’t like being separated; but two cruisers need two guides. Kay and Vala must part too: two cruisers need two drivers. But she and Kaywerbrimmis were not mated!

And here came Pilack pelting after her ahead of Cruiser Two. Vala choked the fuel line and let her cruiser stop.

Gleaners could run like the wind. Pilack looked up at her, grinning, for a moment in which to catch his breath. He said, “Kaywerbrimmis wants to go farther up.”

She looked back. Left of the pass the crest rose gently enough. Kay would be above the snow line, and he’d have a view.

“Shall we wait?”

“Kay says don’t wait. Stop the cruiser if you find danger. We’ll have you in view. We’ll come.”

Pilack ran away. Uphill, Kay’s crew were offloading cargo. Tons of it. Without Paroom and Twuk, it would have taken forever. A few tenbreaths later Cruiser Two was in motion, with Kay on the steering bench and the rest of the crew walking behind, except for the Ghoul, of course. Grieving Tube would not wake till halfnight.

Now a curve took them out of sight.

Cruiser One carried Valavirgillin and Sabarokaresh, Waast and Beedj, Manack and Coriack, Tegger, and Harpster. They stayed out of the payload shell. The payload shell had never been so clean, so scentless. The Ghoul Harpster would have liked the darkness; but he made do with the rest taking their turns under the awnings, on blankets spread along the running boards.

The Machine People on Cruiser Two were both male. She and Kay had dithered about taking Chitakumishad. They’d have preferred Spash, but nobody would risk Spash’s life while she was pregnant. And Chit had had to be tied up during the vampire attack, but he was clever and skillful with tools.

They’d be all right. There was always rishathra.

Cruiser One was beneath the cloud deck now. The darkening day signaled a sun half shadowed. And what was happening down there at the river? “Tegger, give me your sight. The river?”

Gleaners were nearsighted; they could barely see beyond their toes. Machine People had good eyes. But none had eyes like the Reds. Tegger scrambled up onto the steering bench, peered under his hand; then climbed to the cannon tower, higher yet.

“Vampire. Two of them. They’re hideous, Vala. Do you hear anything?”

“No.”

“I think they’re singing, Vala. And … a black thing is coming out of the water. What do River People look like?”

“Wet black. Your size, but compact, streamlined—”

“Short arms and big hands with webbed fingers? Legs likewise? They’ve lured one out. Now one vampire is moving downstream. Wrong gender, maybe, I can’t tell from this far away. How fast can we get down?”

“Not that fast.” Not fast enough for rescue. They were closer now. Vala could see two pale shapes and a black. One pale shape ambled away down the shore. The black waddled to the other white, who enfolded it in its arms. Moments later the white hurled itself backward onto the mud.

The squat black shape approached again, arms outstretched. The white backed away fast on its skinny buttocks. Recovered its courage, or its hunger; got up and accepted the other’s embrace.