Man Who Used the Universe

by Alan Dean Foster

  Loo-Macklin studied the chamber relentlessly. Despite every attempt to make the setup look as natural and unaffected as it had been for Birthing Nuel females thousands of years ago, he quickly noted a number of alterations not made to the cavern by nature.

  There were slick areas set in both the ceiling and side walls, one-way glass, behind which monitors and machinery were likely concealed. Cave formations concealed transmission lines and conduits for substances other than electricity. There was nothing primitive about this Birthing site, despite its appearance. Vast obstetrical technology was hidden everywhere, ready to watch, monitor and assist if necessary. It seemed like a lot of equipment to aid one birth. The reason for it would become clear soon enough.

  He asked Naras Sharaf about it.

  "You are correct in assuming that the appearance of the place is more designed than real. The mental health of the mother is every bit as cared for as the physical.

  "That pool, for example," he gestured over the barrier, "appears to be a backwater of this underground stream. In fact, the pool water is heated some thirty embits warmer than the stream flow. Warm water in a sheltered place was the preferred spot for giving birth among our primitive ancestors. There are no warm springs on this world, however. So we help nature along a little.

  "Everything you see before you, even to the shape and appearance of the midwives clustered around the mother, has been designed to provide her with the maximum comforting, psychologically as well as physiologically. Notice the color of the formations, the shape? They are not natural either." That surprised Loo-Macklin. He couldn't tell them from the real cave formations.

  "Chosen by the mother, for her family will pamper her all she wishes. A Birthing is a great event in any family."

  Loo-Macklin strained to obtain a better view while at the same time making certain he kept well out of sight. He was also aware that the psychologist Chaheel was devoting considerably more attention to Loo-Macklin than to the Birthing in progress across the stream.

  He'd been the subject of studious attention on numerous other occasions. The fact that the eyes now concentrating on him were not human didn't trouble him in the least.

  The lighting in the cavern was even dimmer than the usual faint haze the Nuel preferred and he had to work to see anything at all.

  There was a quickening of activity among the many attendants surrounding the site. Tentacles moved efficiently; to prepare, to help, to do whatever was necessary to ensure that things ran smoothly.

  A great shudder passed through the object of all this attention. There was no warning, no series of intensifying contractions as there would have been in a human female in the same situation. A vast, gurgling sigh issued from the swollen bulk and then the enormous body heaved several times, like a huge bellows.

  Suddenly there was a flurry of activity in the water of the pool and a corresponding rush by the Nuel attendants. Loo-Macklin could see dozens of small shapes thrashing on the surface, churning the once placid pool to foam. The attendants needed every one of their tentacles to aid the young to the surface so they could breathe.

  An oceanic origin of quite recent development had been postulated for the Nuel by human xenobiologists, but until now there had been no proof for it. Cephalopodian shape and exterior construction was not proof enough.

  Loo-Macklin noticed that the cilia of the young Nuel grew as much from the sides of the body as from underneath. As the young matured, the cilia would shift until they gave support to the form, acting as legs instead of oars.

  And still they tore at the water even as dozens were carefully, lovingly moved to shallow bassinets of warm water. As their heads were lifted into the air, they emitted a sharp whistling. It filled the cavern with a snapping sound as if a million castanets formed a background to the whistling: the sound of dozens of tiny beaks biting at the air.

  "This is our secret." Chaheel Riens spoke softly. "Not all females can give birth. This selective sterility is an evolutionary development designed to hold down the population. We have tried to adjust it to suit our wishes but cannot." Coming from the finest bioengineers alive, Loo-Macklin thought, that was a sobering assessment.

  "Furthermore," the psychologist continued, "those who are capable of delivering young can do so only once in a lifetime. But a single female can give birth to as many as fifty healthy Nueleens."

  It explained so much about the Nuel, Loo-Macklin thought as he watched the newborns being moved out of the cavern toward hidden incubation areas. The stability of their population, the extended families, which formed the basis of the more complex and, to humankind, absurd form of interworld government, and the exaggerated courtesy the rare Nuel trader showed to a pregnant female of any species.

  "No wonder birth is spoken of with such veneration among the Families," he said to Chaheel Riens.

  "You understand then why the process is treated as such an event, far more so than among your own kind," the psychologist replied. "Truly, a miscarriage, as I believe it is called among humans, is cause among us not only for unhappiness and mourning but for great despair. The female in question is finished forever as a mother, again unlike most of your kind.

  "A miscarriage among us is the tragedy of whole families with relatives lost. Indeed, a whole family is never born. A series of miscarriages threatens the stability of a community's population and, in primitive times, its very survival. As soon as pregnancy is confirmed, it is treated with the utmost attention.

  "We find your obstetrical procedures careless and indifferent," he added, "though you no doubt consider them as modern as your computers. We could save eighty percent of those humanettes, those infants who still perish in childbirth.

  "Of course," he added, bitterly sarcastic, "no human female would allow a Nuel attendant near her body, much less her sensitive regions, no matter how experienced the attendant or benign its intentions."

  Loo-Macklin noted that each newborn was carefully cleaned with a variety of substances before being placed in its individual bassinet. The young seemed vigorous and active, much more so than human newborn at the same stage of development. That was only natural, given the comparative infrequency of Nuel birth. He'd been counting steadily while listening to Chaheel Riens. There were thirty-eight young so far, all seemingly quite healthy.

  He remarked on it to Naras Sharaf.

  "Yes. Once the young are free of the mother's body, the survival rate is excellent. In primitive times it was much less so, of course. Now few perish in the pools or from postnatal disease."

  There seemed to be a hundred attendants swarming around the pool now, caring for both the newborn and the exhausted mother; cleaning, taking temperatures, preparing bassinets, reciting litanies . . . a host of tasks. In addition, one was aware of all the activity taking place out of sight behind walls and one-way panels: the flurry of physicians attending to each newborn, the recorders monitoring health, the special equipment controlling with precision temperature, light, the circulation of water. There was even a special group preparing names for each of the thirty-eight children.

  The support facilities for this single birth put those of the most modern human hospital to shame. The efficiency and scope of the operation fascinated Loo-Macklin, though not quite for the reasons Naras Sharaf suspected.

  "Everything is so thorough," he murmured. "There seems little room for mistake. It's like a starship, full of backup systems for its backup systems."

  "Which is why nearly every newborn survives," said Naras Sharaf proudly. "Thousands of years of necessity have taught us how to optimize everything for a successful birth. The process is expensive, traditional, and very effective."

  "Quite a production," Loo-Macklin admitted. He glanced at Naras. "Tell me: is the process controlled from start to finish by certain families, the way a branch of the Si is responsible for Intelligence? Or is it divided among all the families according to those who do the best job of it? I'm not talking about the rituals but the products involved; the monitori
ng equipment, the cleansing liquids, the schools that train the attendants, that sort of thing."

  "Efficiency is a matter of competition, though there are some old, venerable favorites for certain items, such as the water salts mined on Veraz. You should be familiar enough with our commerce by now to know this, Kee-yes."

  "I always want to make sure."

  Naras Sharaf seemed slightly disappointed by the man's questions. "As always, you see in the highest glories of nature only a new path to potential profit."

  "That's never troubled you before."

  "Indeed and truly not," confessed Naras. "I've profited much by my association with you, far more than I should have without it. Yet still after all these years I . . ."

  Loo-Macklin rose slightly. "Is it safe to leave now?"

  Naras Sharaf took a last look at the pool. The mother had been removed to a place of resting, where she could recover and contemplate her thirty-eight offspring in peace. Only a few attendants remained, bustling around the pool and tidying up.

  "Yes, it is."

  The supervisor, the Nuel with the inflexible attire and pointed cap, came to see them off. They thanked her profusely and Loo-Macklin exchanged substance with both her and the young psychologist Chaheel Riens. Then he and Naras Sharaf retraced their route up the painted tunnel.

  Behind them, the supervisor chatted idly with Chaheel Riens. "What did you think of this? It truly troubles me still to permit a human so intimate a knowledge."

  "The Council of Eight itself passed on the decision to allow the human attendance," the psychologist replied. "He is bound to us tightly, I was told."

  "Truly, I suppose I worry overmuch. It is a characteristic of my work." Her expression lightened somewhat. "I am sure there is naught to be concerned about. I have heard he carries a lehl implant sensitized to prevent his doing anything contrary to Nuel interests. No surer bind could be placed on his actions."

  "All truth, all truth." Chaheel Riens paused, then said conversationally, "You know, I have made some small study of this race called mankind, both on my own out of personal interest and also on commission for the war department. I have never before encountered a specimen quite like this Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin, either physically or mentally. His physiognomy compares with that of far more primitive human types, but his mind is clearly highly developed. The first does not trouble me, but the actions of the latter give me cause for concern."

  The supervisor turned one eye up the tunnel, which had swallowed the human and his guide, while the other remained attentive on the psychologist.

  "I must truly confess I see no real reason for worry. Why should we trouble our sleepings on his account when he has been passed by our own Intelligence service?"

  "His interest in the commercial aspects of Birthing worries me."

  "He is apparently a creature of commerce," remarked the supervisor, "a type not unknown among our own kind. I would say he has more in common with Naras Sharaf than many of his own people. It is only natural that he would be interested in such aspects of Birthing, or of anything else."

  "But why Birthing?"

  "Perhaps because it was unknown to him. He strikes me as an intensely curious individual, though quiet in manner and speech."

  "Too quiet, perhaps truly," muttered Chaheel Riens. "Why Birthing I ask still?"

  "As Naras Sharaf observed, the human sees profit in everything. Of such dedication are great fortunes raised. Besides, everything he does which involves family commerce binds him to us from a business standpoint much as the lehl does from a physical. So long as he aids us against his own kind, what matters how much money he amasses? Surely his interest, therefore, is all to our benefit."

  "Surely," mumbled Chaheel Riens.

  The supervisor seemed satisfied that she had soothed the thoughts of her young visitor and scuttled away to assist in the naming of the new offspring, always a pleasant task.

  Chaheel Riens stood by the entrance to the pool cavern, thinking. After awhile he removed the tiny unit, part organic, part solid-state, that he carried concealed in a fold of his clothing and murmured into it.

  Family work had provided him with enough money to have some spare time. He had been planning to devote it to a study of the minterfin war rituals of the ancient Uel family on Nasprinkin. His professors looked forward to the resultant report, for Chaheel Riens was a brilliant student.

  Now a new project had come to mind. He had studied humanity in general and, occasionally, free or captured individuals. Something about this Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin intrigued him in a way none of the other alien bipeds had.

  Wasting your time, he argued with himself. Better to devote it to the Uel study, as the fatherminds suggest. Si intelligence has checked this one out for years, almost more years than you have been alive. Who are you to second-guess them?

  And he carries a lehl implant. Not even all Nuel would voluntarily submit to that. Yet this member of an antagonistic race has done so of free will, truly, truly.

  If nothing else, our knowledge of his traitorous acts has tied him to the Nuel as securely as any lehl could do. Should he betray us, his own people would dismember him. Mankind is a vengeful race.

  What so troubled Chaheel Riens and what apparently had escaped the good people of the Si in their eagerness to recruit so valuable a human agent was not the fact that Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin was overly interested in the Nuel, but that the man gave the impression of not being interested in anything. An ideal state of mind for a traitor, perhaps, but troubling to Chaheel.

  Lewmaklin was interested only in himself. Again, a good sign in a traitor. Such individuals are more easily bought, truly.

  I worry too much, truly, the psychologist thought. That's why my matings seem dull and why intellectual exercise is the only thing that gives me pleasuring. Do I therefore identify with this joyless human? Is that why I am so interested in him?

  Regardless, it had to prove more interesting than the somewhat dry study of the Uel rituals. If not, well, he could always drop it.

  But Chaheel Riens did not drop his new interest, because the more he learned about Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin, about the incredibly intricate web of commercial and political ties the human had spun among both the eighty-three worlds of the UTW and the worlds of the Families, the more the psychologist resolved to press on. And the more he pressed on, the more frightened he became.

  Yes, frightened, though there seemed no overt reason for such an extreme reaction. True to his word, the human seemed to have done nothing contrary to the best interests of the Nuel. Many members of the Great Families had become wealthy beyond imagining thanks to Lewmaklin's assistance. Nuel beliefs and attitudes had worked themselves ever deeper into human society, laying the groundwork for the day when the Nuel would seek to gain control of the UTW government.

  Naturally, Lewmaklin also benefited by such activities. He'd made huge investments in many family businesses, most notably in those concerned with supplying the vast range of products utilized during Birthing. A good profit he truly turned, but his interest in the process of Birthing still worried Chaheel Riens. No one else he consulted with seemed concerned, however. Birthing was merely one business in which the human was involved.

  But such interest . . . or so it seemed to Chaheel. There were other family businesses where his investment could have brought him a greater return. Why then did he not enter into them?

  "Who can fathom the human mind? He must have his reasons. His successes speak for themselves." The replies to his worried questions ran along those lines. "And besides," they would inevitably say, "he has the implant, and it is checked on periodically. The man cannot do harm to us."

  "Is a lehl so final, then?" he would ask. "Do we know that much about human biology? True, it was tested on human prisoners. True, it cannot be removed or affected by external factors such as irradiation or sound. But what about slow poisoning, carried out under the supervision of human doctors? Couldn't that kill the lehl or render it insensitive?" />
  And he was told, "The lehl is too sensitive for that. Any hostile activity, however gradual or subtle, would be detected immediately. There is no chance for the human to experiment, either, for a false move would result in his death. Even a slow poisoning attempt would be detected by our sensors during the man's regular checks. The lehl is always healthy, shows no signs of tampering."

  "For an individual supposedly dedicated only to profits," Chaheel had argued, "to forgo other investment opportunities to concentrate on a lesser industry like Birthing does not make sense in light of what I have built up of his psychological profile."

  "Obviously the human sees commerce differently than you," they had chided him. "He clearly senses a chance for greater profit still. There is nothing evil in his obtaining control of any family business, so long as he is carefully monitored. He could not do anything malign even if he so wished, because all the employees close to actual Birthing or production of related material are Nuel. They owe their allegiance to family and their own race, not to their employer. Truly—especially as he is a human."

  Chaheel's arguments availed him nothing. His persistent pessimism made him unwelcome at many government offices. Even his professors turned from him. He grew morose and lost eye color.

  He had to confess there was no factual basis for his suspicions of the human Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin. If such evidence did exist to support any such suspicions, it was clear that the human had concealed it too well for it to be discovered on the worlds of the Families. Therefore, Chaheel Riens decided, he would have to conclude that he was wasting his time or he would have to seek out such evidence elsewhere.

  He would have to travel to the eighty-three worlds of the UTW.

  As a psychologist, he was more aware than most of the loathing humankind had for the Nuel. The mere sight of one still caused many to turn away in revulsion and horror, and there could be uglier reactions. It was not as dangerous to travel the UTW as it had been years ago, however. Ironically, it was Lewmaklin's efforts on behalf of the Nuel, which had made such travel safer.