rapid and highly satisfactory but recently has been slowing down to slightly above average. Watching,” and the other said, “Neenil (f), MSVK. Initially a very slow starter but now picking up nicely. Keen, seems to have discovered extra motivation, but displays signs of fatigue. Have suggested that it spend a little more of its free time not studying so hard.”
Psychiatric action had not been requested on either of the last two cases, but O’Mara had a feeling about them, or maybe it was simply a hope driven by boredom that it would be nice if he could do a little therapeutic tinkering before the trouble, if there was going to be any trouble, could develop. He placed the two files on one side for closer study, telling himself that they both lived on Level One-Eleven and he would be in the neighborhood anyway.
When he returned to them, O’Mara decided that it would be a good idea to learn something about their home environment and physical body requirements before he began a covert, unofficial invstigation of their minds. At present all he knew about them was that one was female and the other male, that they were at different levels of training with lectures and ward duties that didn’t coincide, and so far as he knew the only thing they had in common was belonging to the same species. He called up the library computer and aked it to display general information, sociological environment, and medicine as practiced by physiological classification MSVK, the Euril life-form.
His reception on One-Eleven was less hostile than the first one had been. The usual proportion of door IDs were tagged ON DUTY or DO NOT DISTURB, and the people who did answer, with the exception of the Kelgians, showed a combination of politeness and impatience as they listened. That was understandable, because they had probably heard Mannen, Craythorne, or himself saying it already. The sleeping noises coming from a few of the rooms sounded slightly less horrendous, O’Mara thought, but that might be because he was getting used to them.
He found Creesik’s door ajar and marked simply ABSENT, but Neenil’s was tagged OCCUPIED and was opened at once.
“Trainee Neenil,” he began, only to be interrupted by the other’s twittering speech.
“Creesik,” it said. “I was just leaving?
“Please don’t leave on my account,” he said, thinking quickly. “I intended to visit each of you. If you will not be inconvenienced, it will be easier for me to speak to both of you at the same time?
“Then come in, O’Mara,” said Creesik.
It was the first time he had had more than a glimpse from the corridor entrance into a Euril’s living quarters although, in an attempt to show good manners by not staring, he used his peripheral vision to examine the place as another Euril dropped from a perch before the study alcove and screen and hopped forward to meet him.
“I am Neenil,” it said, the soft twittering of its voice forming a background to the translated words. “You have our attention?
“Thank you,” said O’Mara, still appearing not to look at his surroundings. The walls were covered with pictures of Euril land and seascape, a photograph of what looked like the immediate family flock, and a simple but quietly resplendent framed certificate which, judging from its place of honor above the study console, had originated from an important institution of some kind. Occupying one-quarter of the floor area in one corner was a circular nest standing to about Euril shoulder height, thickly upholstered and with light, padded sheets hanging over one edge. He went on, “If anything, this a social rather than a professional visit. I wanted to let you know what we are hoping to do about the nightly noise pollution?
Creesik cocked its head to one side and said, “Our senior tutor and your Major Craythorne have already discussed this with us, including the unavoidable delays expected in the arrival of the hush-field installations and in replacing the dining-hall furniture. We both formed the impression that these were problems we might have to solve ourselves. Was there anything else you wanted to say?”
“Only to ask if you have any other complaints or problems,” said O’Mara, trying to keep the conversation going. “To Earthhumans, yours is a very unusual species. How are you both settling in here, generally?”
Cocking its head again, Creesik said, “If you are wondering why and how a species with three legs and no hands is able to perform surgery, you won’t be the first to ask. We use our beaks rather than our nonexistent digits. What precisely did you want to know?”
In its condescending fashion the library computer had given him all that a nonspecialist layman enquirer needed to know about Euril evolution and history, couched in terms that had reminded him of his lessons in elementary school. The species no longer had the ability to fly because they had long since rid themselves in many subtle and deadly ways of the many-limbed and clawed predators from whom flight had been their only escape. Using their long, flexible beaks and precisely controlled neck muscles, they became tool users and ultimately developed the technologically advanced civilization that enabled them to travel to the stars. They had done it by using their brains and their beaks. In the area of surgery, they used a range of hollow, conelike instruments fitted to their beaks, and the rapid, pecking procedures they had developed were unequaled when speedy surgery was required. Eurils did everything, well, practically everything, including talk, with their mouths.
Before O’Mara could reveal that he wasn’t entirely ignorant, Neenil made a low, twittering sound that did not translate into words and said, “Speaking personally, I am content and completely happy here?
An enthusiastic response if I ever heard one, O’Mara thought, and wondered if his sudden smile would mean anything to them. He said, “Your contentment is reflected in your work. The senior tutor is well pleased with your recent progress and, in my capacity as a psychologist, I’m especially glad that contentment is the reason.
“But the senior tutor,” said Creesik sharply, “is not pleased with my progress. Is that why you’re here?”
There was unnecessary anger surfacing here, O’Mara thought, and perhaps a little guilt. He tried to avoid a lie by hiding behind the literal truth. “Your progress remains satisfactory, and I haven’t been asked to interview you. In your weekly reports, however, Dr. Mannen expresses a minor concern regarding the symptoms of fatigue or lassitude you have been displaying recently. That’s all.”
“So it’s just you who wants to know the reason for this minor, unimportant, and non-life-threatening debility?” said Creesik. Its neck feathers were practically standing on end and it was jumping up and down on its thin, birdlike limbs. This was the first time, O’Mara thought, that he had ever seen a person who was literally hopping mad. It went on angrily, “Why are you people always so concerned about sex?”
CHAPTER 16
There was an awkward silence while O’Mara tried to find the right words to extricate himself from this delicate situation without giving further offense. While deliberately not looking around the room he had noticed the rumpled nest and suspected that the two of them were an item, but he would certainly not have mentioned it. Suddenly Neenil made another soft twittering sound and in an obvious attempt to lighten the situation, it said, “Psychologists are always concerned about sex. This holds true on Euril, and probably on every civilized world throughout the Galactic Federation.”
O’Mara had never kissed another person in his life and, looking at that long, flexible, wrinkled beak with its tiny, pointed teeth, he wasn’t going to do it now. But he felt so grateful to Neenil for giving him an excuse to continue the conversation that for a moment he was tempted.
“I had not intended to discuss sex” he said, looking at Neenil, “but it seems that it is expected of me. This being so, I would say that the activity has had a very beneficial effect on your work. Why exactly this should be is for you to say, but only if you wish to discuss what is, after all, a private and personal matter.”
He looked at Creesik and went on, “This also explains the minor reduction of physical and mental effort you have displayed. In this situation, which involves a new relationship with an unusually attractive partner…” O’Mara couldn’t see any physical difference between the two of them, but he wanted to give Neenil the benefit of the doubt. . an initial period of, let us say, overenthusiasm is normal with, of course, a consequent degree of physical debilitation. And there would be times when the minds concerned — find difficulty in concentrating on anyone or anything else. But in time this degree of urgency will diminish, the process will stabilize and when, or if, longer- term plans are made…
Creesik had stopped hopping and its neck feathers were lying flat again. It said, “O’Mara, have you a lot of
