Larry
Niven
1983
Awards:
Locus
Nominations:
Nebula, Hugo
Rating:
★ ★ ★ ★ –
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Larry
Niven has done it again: created a clever, original, self-contained,
outer-space habitat of strange configuration and enormous scope. It may not be as
fully realized as his Ringworld, but
it is still unique and impressive.
Niven’s
new bio-zone exists in a binary star system thousands of light years from
Earth. One of the stars is a tiny, almost defunct neutron star. The neutron
star is orbited by an enormous torus of gaseous cloud, which is probably the
remnants of a large gas planet destroyed when the star went nova. The whole
package—gas torus and central star—orbits together around the system’s other
star, a bright yellow dwarf.
The
gas torus is filled with oxygen and completely hospitable to a wide variety of life
forms. The only catch is that there is no real gravity in the torus, just
strong winds blowing around it which create tidal pulls: west-to-east on the
inner rim and east-to-west on the outer rim. All indigenous fauna have adapted
accordingly, each species having their own form of winged or
expelled-gas-driven locomotion. I loved the strange native beasties that Niven
created for this gravity-less environment.
And
there are a number of neat places for the torus’s inhabitants to live.
There are ponds: large globules of water drifting slowly around in the winds.
There are jungles: conglomerations of plants and vines held together by a web
of their own roots and branches. And there are trees: trees with enormous
trunks, some a hundred kilometers tall, growing radially out from the central
neutron star to the outer edge of the torus. The trunks are completely straight
and smooth except for a small tuft of leaves and branches at each end. These
tufts blow in the wind, eastward at the inner end and westward at the outer
end, so that from afar, the entire tree looks like an integral symbol.
These
various habitats are home not only to many native species, but also to humans—perhaps
hundreds of them. These humans are the descendants of a handful of Earth space explorers
who emerged from cryo-sleep far from home, mutinied against their ship’s oppressive
AI guardian, and fled in research modules to start a new life of freedom in the
torus. Centuries have passed since the original mutiny and the mutineers’
descendants have forgotten most of their history and science and now live as
rudimentary farmers, hunters, and artisans.
I
have to admit that I thought this was all a bit goofy at first. But I was
sucked in to the story despite myself.
The
story starts on one of the enormous integral trees, Quinn Tree, which has recently
been pulled into a dry lower zone of the torus by the gravitational field of a
passing planet remnant. The tree is dying, suffering from drought, and so is
the human settlement on its inward tuft. The chief administrator of the
settlement orders a troupe of nine misfits to climb up the trunk to try to find
new sources of food and water for their starving village. After the misfits
cross the midpoint of the tree they run into another population of humans they
never knew about, which has completely different customs and taboos. The two
groups fight, but the rotting tree bursts apart during their skirmish, casting
the Quinn settlement misfits and one of the strangers adrift. They are all left
floating together in the air, clutching a large piece of bark as a life raft.
Through
creativity and cooperation, the bark-raft refugees survive and eventually make
their way to a jungle. They only just start making friends with the humans
living there when the jungle is invaded
by a more technologically advanced group of humans from another tree. The whole
batch of them—the original Quinn Tree misfits, the same-tree adoptee, and their
new jungle allies—are all taken prisoner, brought to the invaders’ London Tree,
and made into slaves and/or prostitutes. There they all suffer to varying
degrees, trying to survive and doing what they can to stay in touch with each
other, and carefully waiting and watching for a time when they can make their
escape and get to a tree of their own.
The Integral Trees is almost Asimovian
in that there is very little actual action, and that the story keeps you involved
instead by having characters that are sympathetic and interesting, and constantly
giving those characters new and complex problems to solve to survive. When
there is action, it is exciting, but most of the book is exposition, conversations,
problem-solving, journeying, and discovery.
The
one character that didn’t really seem to have much of a point was Sharls Davis
Kendy, the cyber-copy AI on board the original colonists’ ship, who has been
locked in orbit for the past 500 years, waiting for the mutineers to come back
so he can discipline them. The Quinn Tree misfits come close to him at one
point, and even talk to him briefly, but in the end nothing comes of it and he
is relegated to his waiting role once again.
But
the rest of the characters and the rest of the story more than make up for the Kendy
dead end. And the best thing about the book is the message running throughout about
the importance of inclusiveness and the benefits that diversity brings. The original
nine from Quinn Tribe are continually thrust into new life-threatening
situations, but they overcome every obstacle by opening themselves up to new
friends and allies, by working together, and by learning about and making good
use of everyone’s skills—even the oldest and the most seemingly physically
incapable. Their journey is really all about building a new tribe that includes
members from all the varied places they come across, where they all can be free
and be themselves. It’s an optimistic and uplifting message, and it doesn’t really
ever get too hokey.
The real trouble began the day you arrived at court. Every last nobleman hides a viper in his smile. How you long for the purity of life in your village, which is currently on fire or something.
