The Galactic Gourmet

Captain Williamson exhaled audibly but did not speak.

“If or when we land,” Prilicla went on, “I would be grateful if you would maintain orbital surveillance of the area so as to warn us of any hostile action that the Equatorials might be mounting against us. Rhabwar’s meteor shield will protect the ship against anything the Wem can throw at us, but I have no intention of starting a war, even a defensive war, and will lift off and go elsewhere before that can happen. I would also be pleased to have any new information not contained in our preliminary briefing. I would appreciate having that information as soon as is convenient.

“Our primary interest is in areas where there is little or no weapons technology,” Prilicla continued, “and subsistence-level conditions with, if possible, a higher than average infant population. We are assuming that Wem parents resemble other civilized beings in that they would be willing to subordinate their racial pride and anger at outside interference if by so doing they could alleviate the hunger of their children. And if the proper approach can be made and the parents can be influenced into accepting our help, it would be advisable to minimize their embarrassment by not being too obvious regarding the food supply operation.”

For a moment Williamson turned its head to give a quiet instruction to someone off-screen, then it returned its attention to Prilicla and said, “We both know that once you land in the disaster area, and in this case that means anywhere on this whole damn planet, you have the rank. Very well, your immediate requirement is for continuous intelligence updating, protective surveillance from orbit, and covert supply drops at night if or when necessary. You’ve got it. Anything else?”

“Thank you no, friend Williamson,” said Prilicla.

The other began shaking its head slowly from side to side, then it said, “I was told that trying to make you change your mind would be like fighting cobwebs — a maximum expenditure of energy with minimum results. I have said all that I can to dissuade you. It was good advice, Senior Physician, even though I cannot force you to take it, but …be very careful down there, friend.”

Before Prilicla could reply, Williamson’s face disappeared to be replaced by that of Captain Fletcher, who said briskly, “Tremaar is already sending the update you requested. Their communications officer tells me that it includes some nice close-ups of adult and young Wem, the disposition of their defenses and some ideas about their social structure and behavior, which are mostly guesswork, but that last bit is unofficial. I’ll run the new material on your repeater screen as soon as we have it all. Meanwhile, Rhabwar is closing Wemar under cruising thrust and we are estimating low-orbit insertion in thirty-two hours and two minutes.”

“Thank you, friend Fletcher,” the empath replied. “That will give us plenty of time to review the new information before landing.”

“Or time to change our minds about landing,” said Naydrad.

Murchison laughed quietly and said, “I don’t think so, that would be too sensible.”

A few minutes later the main screen began displaying the new material and, during the discussion that followed, Gurronsevas quickly discovered what it was like to be an unseen observer.

Surprisingly it was the non-medic Fletcher who began by saying that, with all due respect, his opposite number on Tremaar had been deliberately exaggerating the threat posed by the Wem heavy weaponry which, they had seen for themselves, was very old, badly corroded, and showed no signs of recent use, while the emplacements and connecting system of defensive pits were overgrown or reduced by natural erosion. The long-range weapons were of the chemically-powered type firing solid or exploding projectiles, but in Fletcher’s opinion they would be a greater danger to the users than their targets. Because the vision pickups sent down could not be directed inside a Wem dwelling or sub-surface arsenal without them being immediately seen and destroyed, it was possible that the Wem had concealed stocks of portable weapons but this, too, was unlikely.

“My reason for believing this,” Fletcher went on, “is based on our covert observations of the young Wem. Like most youngsters, they play at being hunters or warriors, using the toy spears or bows and arrows that are the harmless, scaled-down weapons of the adults. But not one of them has been seen pointing a pretend weapon and shouting ‘Bang!’ which, incidentally, seems to be the same word-sound in every species’ language, so it is unlikely that chemically powered weapons are used widely by their parents. As well, the population of the Wem fortified villages we’ve seen have shrunk so much that their defenses can no longer be fully manned. My feeling is that the early fortifications were built to repel raiders in search of meat. But now the surviving Wem are so widely scattered, and their numbers and those of their food animals so reduced, they are no longer capable of mounting a long-range raid because they would probably starve before reaching the target village.

“I think Captain Williamson was trying to scare us off before we could take a close look at the situation,” Fletcher ended. “It is my feeling that the Wem do not pose a physical threat. What I don’t understand is why, even though these people are facing imminent starvation, they are so choosy about their food.”

“Thank you, friend Fletcher,” said Prilicla. “Your words leave us feeling greatly reassured. And we are asking ourselves the same question. Friend Danalta, I feel you wanting to speak.”

The green, organic mound that was currently the shape-changer quivered, added a loose, shapeless mouth to its single eye and ear, and said, “I have observed that hunger can make a civilized people behave in a most uncivilized fashion, especially when their dietary spectrum is limited. Fortunately, my own species was able to survive and evolve intelligence by eating anything and everything that wasn’t trying to eat us. But can we decide whether this is a matter of tradition, some form of early religious conditioning? Or is it due to a basic physiological need?”

“No Wem burial places have been discovered,” said Fletcher. “The outward sign of remembering or honoring the dead can indicate a belief in the afterlife. We can’t be certain, naturally, but our present information suggests that the Wem are not religious.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Murchison. It moved to the console, tapped for rECALL and hOLD when the screen displayed the first of many close-up pictures of the natives, and went on, “The Wem life-form belongs to physiological classification DHCG. For the non-medics among us, that is a warm-blooded, oxygen-breathing species with an adult body mass just under three times that of an Earth-human and, since Wemar’s surface gravity is one point three eight standard Gs, a healthy specimen is proportionately well-muscled …”

If anything, Gurronsevas thought as the succession of still and moving images continued, it resembled a picture he had once seen of a rare Earth beast called a kangaroo. The differences were that the head was larger and fitted with a really ferocious set of teeth; each of the two short forelimbs terminated in six-fingered hands possessing two opposable thumbs, and the tail was more massive and tapered to a wide, flat, triangular tip which was composed of immobile osseous material enclosed by a thick, muscular sheath. The flattening at the end of the tail, Murchison explained, served a threefold purpose: as its principal natural weapon, as an emergency method of fast locomotion while hunting or being hunted, and as a means of transporting infant Wem who were too small to walk.

There was one charming picture of a pair of adults — Gurronsevas was still not sure which sex was which — dragging their tails and two of their happily squeaking offspring behind them, and a less charming sequence of them hunting. For this they began by adopting an awkward, almost ridiculous stance with their forelimbs tightly folded, their chins touching the ground, and their long legs spread so as to allow the tail to curve sharply downward and forward between the limbs so that the flat tip was at their center of balance. When the tail was straightened suddenly to full extension, it acted as a powerful third leg capable of hurling the Wem forward for a distance of five or six body lengths.

If the hunter did not land on top of its prey, kicking the creature senseless with the feet before disabling it with a deep bite through the cervical vertebrae and underlying nerve trunks, it pivoted rapidly on one leg so that the flattened edge of the tail struck its victim like a blunt, organic axe.“… While the tail is highly flexible where downward and forward movement is concerned,” Murchison said, “it cannot be elevated above the horizontal line of the spinal column. The fine details will have to wait until we are able to make an internal scan, but you can see from the visible external structure of the dorsal and tail vertebrae and associated musculature that it’s impossible for the tail to be brought close to the back without major spinal dislocation. The back and upper flanks are, therefore, the Wem’s only body areas that are vulnerable to attack by natural enemies, who must also possess the element of surprise if they are not to become the victim.”

There was a brief sequence showing a quadruped, with fur so black that few physical details could be seen other than its long, sharp teeth and even longer claws, leaping onto the Wem from an overhanging branch. It dug its claws deeply into the victim’s cloaked back and tore at the side of its neck while the Wem used its tail to jump