The Gripping Hand by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle Read Free Book Online Page B

Mormons know about it and Boynton doesn't. For that matter, it might be opal meerschaum. Under the glacier. You wait till the glacier moves; that's why the market's so sporadic."
     
     

    "Given the geology I would not be surprised, but what is that to you?"
     
     

    Renner spread his hands. "One hand, it's cold and miserable. Other hand, the source of opal meerschaum is a big secret, and we're looking for secrets. Gripping hand—" Bury suppressed a shudder. "Gripping hand, they're interested. What is Horace Bury after? Opal meerschaum? Something else?"
     
     

    "And you trust your companions, whom you met in a bar—"
     
     

    "I had Ruth Cohen check on them. Boynton and the Scott brothers are well known, no trouble with the police except that Boynton gets drunk when he has a good hunt. The Maguey Worm is one of half a dozen places where ghost hunters hang out looking for a stake."
     
     

    "Still—?"
     
     

    "You have a better lead?"
     
     

    "I have leads. And a different manner of searching." Bury gestured to indicate his travel chair. "Certainly you are better suited to follow this than I am. Kevin, communications will not be reliable in that area. The crew on Sinbad can attempt to keep track of you, but it is not likely they will succeed."
     
     

    "No guts, no glory." Renner grinned. "Besides, I'll have Boynton and the Scott brothers looking out for me. They each get an extra five thousand if I get back alive. Ten each if I have a snow ghost. What can go wrong?"
     
     

     
     
     

    The glacier ended in sharp edges bordered in bare rocky ground. The bare spots ranged from a few meters to several kilometers before vanishing into the snow. They flew past a cluster of buildings nestled against the glacier edge. Two buildings stood out, one wide and low, the other taller and more massive. Mist and steam rose from all the clear-ground areas to the thick cloud cover above them, so that it was hard to see the town.
     
     

    "Zion," Ajax Boynton said.
     
     

    "Looks interesting," Renner said. Maybe four thousand population, maybe less.
     
     

    "For us," Darwin Scott said. "That's one of the True Temples. But there won't be any ghosts near there. No opal meerschaum, either."
     
     

    "Not there," Boynton agreed. "But that stuff's got to be near here somewhere."
     
     

    "Why?"
     
     

    "We know the jade comes from here."
     
     

    "We know people say so," James Scott said. "But I never met anyone who'd found any."
     
     

    "You have, too," Ajax Boynton said. "Ralph. Ralph . . . hell, I forget. Came to the Maguey and bought for the house."
     
     

    "Yeah, and the next day bought a ticket for Tabletop," James Scott said. "I'd forgotten him. Okay, so you can get lucky."
     
     

    "Never did understand that," Boynton said. "Ralph—Plemmons, that was his name. I didn't know him all that well, but I sure never figured him to leave the Purchase." He looked down at the map display on the flier's navigation screen. "Fifteen more klicks south, then twenty east. I know a good place."
     
     

    Renner studied the rugged ground below. It rolled with hills, mostly covered with thin forest. Those bumbershoot trees needed a lot of room. The area near the glacier was obscured with mist, but away from it the air was clearer. Brush and treetops thrust up through the snow in the clearings. "Just where do you land?" he asked.
     
     

    "You land on a lake," Darwin Scott said. He touched the light pen to the area Boynton had indicated. The bush plane banked slightly and changed course. "A shallow lake."
     
     

    "Why shallow?" Renner asked.
     
     

    "Snow ghosts aren't the only things that eat people," James Scott said. "Boynton here lost a partner to a freshwater cecil. You sure this isn't the same lake?"
     
     

    "Hell, no. I told Brad that lake was too deep," Boynton said.
     
     

    Fifteen minutes later James Scott took manual control of the plane. He brought it in low and circled a patch that was clear of