The Galactic Gourmet

by James White

  There was nobody better at reading feelings than Prilicla, Gurronsevas knew, but he was not as sure as the empath was about his own. He hated dark, cramped spaces but, after being named as one of the team's protectors in case of trouble, he could not act like a coward by refusing to enter the mine before first finding out what it was like inside.

  "...As for myself," Prilicla went on, "I sleep in a coccoon-like room without light. My wings and over-long limbs fold so that, if you have no objections, I will be able to ride on the litter with you. How restricted is the space in your tunnels? Will they allow free pas­sage for everyone here?"

  "Yes," said Tawsar. It looked at Gurronsevas and added, "Just barely."

  A few minutes later Naydrad guided the litter with Tawsar and Prilicla on board into the entrance, preceded by Danalta and fol­lowed by Naydrad and Murchison with Gurronsevas forming what the Captain so worryingly referred to as the rear guard and the pathologist as a mobile, organic thrombosis.

  But the plug, he was pleased to discover, was a loose fit because the tunnel was wider, than he had expected and better lit so that he had no need of his image enhancer. Perhaps Wem vision was less sensitive than that of a Tralthan, for it had been apologizing in ad­vance for the shortcomings of its technology. Prilicla and Tawsar were talking together quietly, but the constant pattering of Naydrad's many feet kept him from hearing what they were saying, and the Captain was filling the gaps in their conversation by worrying aloud.

  "...The deep sensor indications," Fletcher was saying, "are of an exhausted and long-abandoned copper mine. It could be cen­turies old, judging by the condition of the tunnel support structure, but shows signs of recent repair. Many of the deeper galleries have been sealed off by rock-falls, and even if the Wem don't mean you any harm, you can't talk your way out of a collapsed tunnel. Please reconsider and ask Tawsar to do the talking outside."

  "No, friend Fletcher," Prilicla replied on the ship frequency. "Tawsar wants to talk inside the mine. It has strong feelings of em­barrassment which suggest that it prefers our conversation to be pri­vate. It is not feeling the anxiety characteristic of impending tun­nel collapse."

  "Very well, Doctor," said the Captain. "Are you having any dif­ficulty with breathing? Is anyone aware of smells that might indi­cate the presence of flammable gas?"

  "No, friend Fletcher," said Prilicla. "The air is cool and fresh."

  "You don't surprise me," said Fletcher. "Only the upper gal­leries are occupied and the Wem have drilled themselves a neat sys­tem of natural ventilation tunnels which require no power. They have a small electricity generator which produces enough current for lighting, powered by a subterranean river which exits at the base of the other side of the mountain. We have also detected a few hot spots that are probably cooking fires or ovens, and associated com­bustion byproducts, but the pollution level is not life-threatening. Be careful anyway."

  "Thank you, we will," said Prilicla, and resumed its conversa­tion with Tawsar.

  They passed the openings into many side-tunnels and small, unlighted chambers, and in several places Gurronsevas' head and flanks scraped against the tunnel walls and roof, but the air that blew gently past him was cool and fresh and polluted only slightly with an odor which Murchison identified as a combination of wood smoke with trace odors of the kind associated with food prepara­tion. A few minutes later they moved past the entrance to a kitchen.

  "Friend Gurronsevas," said Prilicla, using voice amplification so that its words would carry back to him, "I feel your intense cu­riosity and I think I understand the reason for it, but at present it would be better for the team to stay together."

  As the odor grew fainter with distance, Gurronsevas used the olfactory sense that had been sharpened by a lifetime of experience in the culinary arts in an attempt to isolate and identify the con­stituents of a smell that was totally beyond his previous experience. Or was it?

  Carried on a fine mist of water vapor containing trace quan­tities of dissolved salt there was the unmistakable odor of vegeta­tion, several different varieties, that were being boiled or stewed to­gether. One of them had a sharp, heavy smell that reminded him of the cooked somrath plant or the Earth cabbage leaf favored by some Kelgians, but the other odors were too bland for him to make off-world comparisons. These included a faint, hot smell of what was almost certainly coarse flour baking in an oven. But the most surprising part of this Wem olfactory cocktail was the things that were not in it.

  Charitably, Gurronsevas reminded himself that there were several member species of the Federation who had developed high technology and an artistically enlightened culture while remaining in a culinary wilderness.

  Chapter 21

  A few minutes later the tunnel opened into a compartment whose wall-mounted lighting fixtures failed to illuminate the high and unsupported roof while showing the rock walls and slop­ing, uneven floor of a large, natural cavern. Plainly it had been uti­lized as an extension to the mine rather than a compartment hol­lowed out by Wem hands.

  About two hundred yards ahead there was a wall, built from large, unfinished stones bound together by cement, sealing off the mouth of the cavern. The wall was pierced by ten large window openings, three of which still retained their glass while the others looked as if they had been boarded up for a very long time. Enough daylight came through the windows to bleach the artificial lighting to a dull, yellow glow and illuminate the rows of high, bench-like Wem tables that were separated by wide aisles into groups of twenty or more.

  This was the communal dining area, Gurronsevas thought, then immediately corrected himself. Facing every rectangular group of tables there was a piece of equipment whose basic design, mod­ified to suit the size and shape of its users, was common to virtu­ally every intelligent species in the Federation—a blackboard and easel. Ranged against the cavern walls were side tables, some of them stacked with platters and eating utensils and others with books that looked as if they were disintegrating with age. Hanging from spikes driven into the rockface were a number of large, framed wall-charts which were cracked and faded almost to illegibility.

  It was a school classroom as well as a dining area.

  Fletcher was seeing everything that the team was seeing through their vision pick-ups, but the Captain kept talking about it anyway because the material was probably being recorded for on­ward transmission to Tremaar.

  "...The furniture and equipment is old," Fletcher was saying. "You can see the corrosion stains where the original metal legs were attached, and the replacement wooden structure is not all that recent, either. The wall-frame supports are solid with rust, as well. They must be short of glass, too, otherwise they would not have boarded up the window frames in an area where daylight is available for classroom work.

  "I missed seeing that wall on the cliff face," Fletcher contin­ued, a hint of apology creeping into its tone, "because it is built from local, weathered stone that is difficult to see because it is recessed and shaded by a rock overhang. I would say that the purpose of the wall is to protect rather than confine the younger inhabitants, be­cause the cavern mouth opens onto a sheer cliff some five hundred feet above the valley floor. But we have the wall clearly in sight now. If an emergency withdrawal becomes necessary, Danalta and Gurronsevas can easily break through the boarded-up window frames. Doctor Prilicla can fly down and the rest of you can escape using the—"

  "Not on the anti-gravity litter!" Naydrad broke in, its fur spik­ing in agitation. "That is primarily a ground-effect vehicle. At any­thing over fifty feet altitude it balances like a drunken Crrelyin!"

  "—Using the tractor-beam," Fletcher continued, "The ship is close enough for it to reach you and lift you down one at a time."

  "Captain," said Prilicla, "the possibility of a life-threatening emergency occurring is very small. The emotional radiation of Tawsar and the other Wem in the mine we have not yet met was not hostile, and they are the beings with authority in this estab­lishment. Our friend
is radiating a mixture of shame, embarrass­ment and intense curiosity. It wants something from us, possibly only information. But it does not, as your colorful but anatomically inexact Earth saying has it, want our guts for garters. Please return to translation mode or Tawsar will think we are talking about it."

  Prilicla and Tawsar resumed talking, with occasional inter­jections from the other team members, but their conversation was becoming too medical to hold Gurronsevas's interest. He moved over to the windows to look down on Rhabwar shimmering inside the dome of its meteor shield, and beyond it to the valley floor and the scattered groups of young Wem who were working there. The most distant group had formed into a line and was beginning to walk back towards the mine.

  The ship had not yet reported the incident. Lacking Gurron­sevas's greater elevation, the watch-keeping officer would not have seen them.

  He bent an eye to look behind him where Prilicla and Murchison were demonstrating the uses of the litter's handheld scanner on Naydrad and each other, but not on Danalta whose internal organs were voluntarily mobile and far too confusing for a simple first les­son in other-species anatomy. Surprisingly, for a being of its ad­vanced age and the inflexible habits of thought which usually ac­companied that condition, Tawsar was quick to grasp the idea of making a non-invasive and painless internal investigation of a liv­ing body. It stared entranced at the internal organs, the beating hearts, the lungs in their different respiration cycles and the com­plex skeletal structures of the Cinrusskin Senior Physician, the Earth-human Pathologist and the Kelgian Charge Nurse.

  It was inevitable that Tawsar became curious and wanted to look into its own internal workings, which gave Prilicla the open­ing it needed to ask more personal medical questions.

  "...If you look closely at the hip and knee, here and here," the Senior Physician was saying, "you can see the layers of cartilage which separate the joints and which are supposed to form a thin, frictionless pad between them. In your case, however, the joint in­terfaces are no longer smooth. The bone structure has deteriorated and become uneven, and the movement of the limb, combined with the pressure of your body weight on surfaces which are no longer smooth, has torn and inflamed the cartilage and generally worsened the condition, making physical movement both restricted and painful..."

  "Tell me something I don't know," said Tawsar.

  "I will," Prilicla replied gently. "But before I do that you must be told something that you do know, that your condition is due to the aging process that is common to all species. In time, in varying lengths of time, because our life-expectancies are not the same, all of the beings you see around you will age, our physical and some­times mental capabilities will deteriorate until eventually we will die. None of us can reverse the natural aging process, but with the proper medication and treatment the symptoms can be reduced, or their onset delayed, and the physical discomfort removed."

  Tawsar did not respond for a moment, and Gurronsevas did not need to be an empath to feel the Wem's disbelief, then it said, "Your medication would poison me, or give me some foul, off-world disease. My body must remain healthy and clean, despite its infirmities. No!"

  "Friend Tawsar," said Prilicla, "we would not even try to help if there was the slightest risk to yourself. You do not realize, because until now you had no way of knowing, that there are many simi­larities between the Wem and the off-worlders represented here. With minor differences in composition we breathe the same air and eat the same basic types of food..."

  The Cinrusskin's pipe-stem legs and slow-beating wings began quivering, but only for a moment. It did not stop talking.

  "...Because of this, the ways that our bodies work, the processes of respiration, ingestion and waste elimination, procre­ation, and physical growth are all very similar. But there is one im­portant and unique difference: we cannot catch a disease from you or from each other, or you from one of us. This is because the pathogens, the germs, which have evolved on one world are pow­erless to affect life-forms from another. After centuries of close and continuous contact on many worlds, this is a rule to which we have found no exception."

  Prilicla bypassed the translator again and said quickly, "There was a strong emotional reaction to the mention of food. I detected the same feelings of shame, curiosity and intense hunger. Why should a native of a famine-stricken world be ashamed of feeling hungry?"

  Switching back to Tawsar it went on, "We cannot promise that you will be able to run and hop like a young Wem. If we are able to treat you, there will be a marked alleviation of your discomfort. If not, no change in your condition or additional pain will be ap­parent. Withdrawal of the specimens we need to ensure that our medication will not harm you is also painless."

  It was not just another therapeutic lie, Gurronsevas knew, be­cause in this case the doctor was feeling everything that its patient felt. Judging from the faint tremor visible in Prilicla's limbs, it was also feeling the patient coming to a difficult decision.

  "I must be damaged in the head," said Tawsar suddenly. "Very well, I agree. But don't take too long about it or I may change my mind."

  The medical team gathered around the Wem who was still lying on the litter. Prilicla said, "Thank you, friend Tawsar, we will not waste time." Murchison said, "The scanner is on record," and after that the conversation became densely technical. Gurronsevas turned his back on the massively boring medical proceedings and returned to the windows.

  The four most distant working or teaching parties had merged on their way back to the mine and presumably their midday meal, and the closer groups would join them so that they would all arrive at the same time. They were maintaining the slow walking pace of their teachers rather than running and hopping ahead, and he es­timated their arrival time at just under an hour. Rhabwar would have them in sight very soon. He wondered whether their lack of haste was due to teacher discipline or disinterest in the meal await­ing them. He was increasingly curious about the kitchen smells that were drifting in from the entry tunnel.

  He became suddenly aware that Prilicla was talking about him.

  "...It moving away from us means no disrespect," the empath was saying. "Because of its specialty Gurronsevas is more cu­rious about what you put into your body than in what we are tak­ing out and, whenever you can spare the time, it would be much more interested in investigating the Wem cooking arrangements than in—"

  "It is welcome to look at our kitchen now," Tawsar broke in. "The First Cook knows of the visit by off-worlders and will be pleased to see Gurronsevas. Does it require guidance?"

  "Thank you, no," said Gurronsevas. Silently, he added, "I can follow my nose."

  "I shall join you in the kitchen," said Tawsar, "as soon as this strange activity is over."

  He was already moving towards the exit tunnel when Prilicla switched from the translator channels to say, "Friend Gurronsevas, I was talking about you simply to give Tawsar something other than the examination to think about. But suddenly there was an emotional response of the type I detected earlier. Feelings of hunger, curiosity and intense shame or embarrassment, but much more in­tense. Be very careful, and observant, because I have the feeling that you could discover something important to us. Maintain voice contact at all times and please take care."

  "I will be careful, Doctor," said Gurronsevas impatiently as he continued his erratic journey between the desks. Who better than himself knew how many accidents could occur in a kitchen, and how to avoid them.

  Prilicla resumed its attempts to take Tawsar's mind off what Murchison and Naydrad were doing to it. Their voices sounded clearly in his earpiece.

  "For the best results," the empath was saying, "we should also investigate a healthy and active young Wem, ideally one close to ma­turity. It would be for purposes of comparison only, not for treat­ment. Would this be possible?"

  "Anything is possible," Tawsar replied. "Children are prone to take risks, for a dare or out of curiosity or to prove themselves better than other children. Maybe
that is the reason I am subject­ing myself to this experience, I was too stupid to realize that I have long since entered my second childhood."

  "No, friend Tawsar," said Prilicla firmly. "There is a young and adaptable mind inside your aging body, but it is not a stupid one. There can be few others of your kind who could have faced a group of off-worlders, beings who must appear completely alien and vi­sually horrendous to you, and help us with our investigation as you have been doing. That was and is a very brave act. But were you sim­ply curious about us or were there other reasons for inviting us here?"

  There was a long pause, then Tawsar said, "I am not a unique person. There are others here who are equally brave or stupid. Most of them are willing to meet and make whatever use of you that they can, and a few others, the majority of the absent hunters, refuse to have any part of you. As First Teacher it was my responsibility for inviting you into the mine. I was surprised that you did not need more coaxing, so perhaps you, too, are brave or stupid. And plac­ing me under an obligation by promising to relieve the pain in my joints was unfair because I cannot repay..."

  "Friend Tawsar," Prilicla broke in, "there is nothing to repay. But if the balancing of obligations are important to your people, you have allowed us to satisfy our medical curiosity regarding the Wem, and this would repay the debt many times over. As for your stiff­ening joints, the pain symptoms can be relieved easily although a cure that would allow a return to full mobility might be more dif­ficult because the condition is advanced in your case. We might have to remove the damaged joints in their entirety and fit re­placements made from metal or hardened plastic."

  "No!"

  The single word sounded so angry that it must have been ac­companied by strong emotional radiation, and Gurronsevas was glad that he was not seeing Prilicla's reaction. He had moved along the tunnel and was within a few paces of the kitchen entrance by the time the empath found its voice again.