nothing of the hunting party. Beyond that circle the surface is uneven and wooded, giving large areas of natural cover so that the observations are less than trustworthy. Other settllements are under observation, but the closest is sited on the edge of a mountain lake just over three hundred miles away. Because of the Wem aversion to sunlight,
“But I can put up our unmanned casualty search vehicle,” Fletcher went on. “That baby will detect any sign of life even if it is close to extinction. It uses a low-level spiral search pattern and, unless the whole hunting party is dead, you will have their number, rate of travel, and estimated time of arrival within a day or so, depending on how far away they are just now.”
“Do that at once, please,” said Prilicla. It flew closer to him before saying, “I can feel your satisfaction, friend Gurronsevas, but we are far from satisfied with our own progress. We are a small and uniquely-equipped medical team, too small to cure the ills of an entire planet …”
“We are also nothing,” said Naydrad, looking around from the food dispenser, “if not modest.”“… Although we should be able to solve the problems of one small, isolated community. Our contact is not going well. Your conversations with Remrath clarified the reasons for the shame it felt as an adult over being forced to eat young food, but still Tawsar is reluctant to give information in several areas important to full understanding. Progress is being made only in the Wem kitchen on the common ground of cookery. Surely, Chief Dietitian, this must be a first in the annals of First Contact procedures.”
Gurronsevas did not reply. He was pleased by both the unexpected compliment and the use of his title in conjunction with it, and he knew that the other was aware of his pleasure.
“We overheard Remrath’s invitation to you,” said Prilicla. “What are your plans?”
“I would like to return at the same time tomorrow,” Gurronsevas replied. “By then the edible vegetation specimens will be analyzed and identified and I will know enough to make a few dietary experiments while talking to Remrath and helping in the kitchen. But there is no need for physical protection. I feel very comfortable working over there.”
He did not add that he felt more at home in Remrath’s steaming and smoking and altogether primitive kitchen than he did among the shining, aseptic medical technology of the casualty deck.
“I am aware of your feelings, friend Gurronsevas,” said the empath gently. “But I would feel happier if Danalta accompanied you. As well as being able to assist you directly it will be available in case of a medical emergency. According to the statisticians, the kitchen is the second most likely room in which accidents are likely to occur.”
“Especially,” said Naydrad, “the kitchen of a bunch of cannibals.”
“As you wish, Doctor,” said Gurronsevas, ignoring the charge nurse. “Am I allowed to return Remrath’s hospitality by inviting it here?”
“Of course,” Prilicla replied, “but be careful. The same invitation was extended to Tawsar, who refused it vehemently. Its emotional radiation at the time was complex and intense and even unfriendly. Remrath might feel and react in the same fashion.
“That is why,” it went on, “we must discuss the whole Wemar situation with you, the facts we know and our speculations based on them, before you speak to Remrath again. Because of their unidentified feelings of antipathy or distrust towards us, you are maintaining our most promising communications channel with the Wem. It must not be closed accidentally because we have not provided you with all the available information.”
He was a cook, Gurronsevas thought, and neither a medic nor an other-species contact specialist. But now they seemed to be treating him as all three. His feelings about that were oddly pleasant and not a little fearful.
“We will continue to monitor and record your conversations in the mine or while you are with Remrath outside it,” Prilicla went on reassuringly, “but we no longer think it necessary to distract you with unnecessary advice, and should there be an emergency we will react quickly; our silence will not mean that we have forgotten you. Personal security procedures will be included in your Wem briefing.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“Do not feel worried, friend Gurronsevas,” said the empath, “either for your safety or your ability to do the job. You have done and will do well. But I find it strange that a specialist of your eminence has not complained, nor have you felt any but the most minor and temporary emotional distress about the menial work you are doing here. On Wemar they are not treating you with the respect that is your due.”
“On Wemar,” said Gurronsevas, “I have yet to earn their respect.”
CHAPTER 25
Fletcher’s low-altitude sensor vehicle discovered and sent back pictures of a party of adult Wem, forty-three in number, who were headed towards the mine but still distant by an estimated nine days’ march. They were walking rather than hopping because four of them were carrying a fifth on a litter made from thin, straight branches stripped of their twigs. Two small animals of about one-fifth the body mass of the Wem were each being dragged and driven between a pair of hunters who had them double-roped at the neck. Apart from the sick or injured one on the litter, all of the Wem wore packs which sagged loosely against their backs. Plainly the hunt had not been a successful one.
It had been left to Gurronsevas’s discretion whether or when to show the pictures to Remrath. The news of the arrival of the hunting party might have an unsettling effect on his steadily improving relations with Remrath. Since their trip together in the valley, the Chief Cook had never been short of words, especially, as now, when they were words of criticism.
“This is completely ridiculous and childish,” said the Wem impatiently. “Gurronsevas, how often must I tell you that eating vegetation is a practice forced on us by near-starvation and not by choice. Cold or hot, raw or stewed, whatever form they take, they are still vegetables. You make them look nice on the platter, I admit, but youngsters find it easier to make designs by pushing colored stones and pieces of wood around on their desktops than by making a soggy mess with bits of raw vegetation on their platters. What is it? Surely you don’t expect anyone to actually eat this stuff?”
“It is a salad,” he replied patiently in an attempt to counter the other’s impatience. “If you will observe it closely you will find that it is composed of small amounts of familiar Wem vegetation, diced, sliced and shredded into unfamiliar forms, covered lightly with a dressing comprised of your vrie seeds crushed and mixed with the juice of unripe moss berries to give it the necessary tang, and arranged into a visually interesting design. The crill bud can also be eaten if desired, and they will be fully opened by the time the meal is served, but their purpose is chiefly decorative as well as aroma-enhancing. I have already explained that the attraction of this dish, and of the other two dishes on the tray, lie in their visual and olfactory presentation as well as in the taste.
“Please try the salad,” Gurronsevas went on. “I have eaten of all three dishes without harm to myself and, in spite of the ingredients being strange to me, I have found some of them to be quite pleasant.”
That was not entirely true, he thought. During the early experimentation with Wem vegetation the pleasure had been preceded by much digestive displeasure. But, he reminded himself, a great deal of trouble had been caused throughout every world’s history by people who insisted on telling too much of the truth.
“Taste them and see,” he added.
“I do not understand why there have to be three separate dishes,” said Remrath. “Why not mix them all together?”
The mere idea sent a small, unnoticed shiver of revulsion through Gurronsevas’ massive body. He had already answered that question earlier and suspected that Remrath was simply fighting a delaying action which, as a fellow cook, it could not hope to win. Perhaps he should answer it again, and this time leave no doubt in the other’s mind about his meaning.
“Among all of the intelligent species known to me,” said Gurronsevas, “the practice is to prepare and serve meals comprising a number of separate and contrasting or complementary dishes, or courses. This is because they consider eating as a pleasure of the taste sensors that can at times be subtle and long-delayed and at other times sharp and intense. The ingredients of the individual dishes are chosen to perform a similar function on a smaller
