Man Who Used the Universe (20 page)

"No human has partnered a lehl before, so though the probable results were carefully schematized before the operation, they remained only theoretical."

"In fact, I feel positively buoyant."

The tube rose into the mountains, carrying the car with it through passes and around sheer cliffs no road could have traversed. At night the single large moon shone on coniferous trees whose branches curved upward, giving the forest they were traveling through the appearance of an army of emerald candelabra. Loo-Macklin slept soundly on the pallet that had been arranged for him near the back of the thin, long car. The creature inside his head, which could kill him instantly, saw to it that he always had a good night's sleep.

Two days later they'd left any semblance of flat ground far behind. Occasional Nuel communities were visible, built in scattered mountain valleys or on the less precipitous flanks of snow-capped crags.

The car slowed automatically and was shunted into a smaller tube. They sped on alone, no other car visible ahead or behind them at the usual preset interval.

Eventually they slowed. The car slid out of the tube into a docking area inside a building decorated with baroque carvings and mosaics. Arches were everywhere, employed more for their aesthetic than architectural use.

A pair of subtly armed Nuel approached the car. They wore two el apiece, the busy spinners constantly changing the shape of the stars that dominated the alien's blue and brown uniforms. They looked askance at Loo-Macklin as he wrinkled his way out of the confining vehicle and drew their stubby projectile weapons.

One recognized Sharaf. "Truly this is some kind of bad humor, brother."

"Truly there is no humor to it," Sharaf replied.

"But surely you cannot mean to. . . ."

"It is all right, brothers," Sharaf assured them. "He has been spoken for."

"Hello," said a new voice. The Nuel who joined them now was younger than even the two guards, considerably younger than Naras Sharaf. He was barely beginning to gain control over the viscosity of his excreted slime and other bodily fluids, and his interlocking eyelids occasionally stuck together longer than was completely polite. In addition to the iridescent purple, which occasionally flashed from the skin of a Nuel, a bright yellow sparkle also appeared on his body from time to time, a particularly attractive surface coloration.

"Greetings, Naras," he murmured. Then both eyes examined the foreigner. "So you are Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin."

The stocky human extended a hand palm downward, fingers tightly pressed together, as he'd discovered was the preferable approach among the Nuel. The newcomer hesitated, then extended two tentacles and crudely managed the shaking motion. Loo-Macklin spat into his other hand and offered fluid, studying the other in turn.

"From what I have been told," the newcomer said, "it is difficult to believe that you are not a Nuel biologically reengineered by our scientists to resemble a human."

"I'm quite human," Loo-Macklin assured him. "As human as you are Family."

"I am Chaheel Riens, Nuel psychologist and student of alien thoughts and actions."

"So truly are you then here to observe me as much as anything else."

"Truly," admitted Chaheel, showing no surprise at Loo-Macklin's mastery of the guttural Nuel tongue. That much he expected, having studied it in the records pertaining to this remarkable creature.

"I am to understand that you have submitted to a lehl implant?"

Loo-Macklin said nothing.

"Well then, I suppose you are as assured of as any biped could be. Come along, and please lower your voices to a respectful level."

Naras and Loo-Macklin trailed behind the psychologist as he exited the car dock and entered the main structure. The human's presence attracted many stares and set others to talking. He smiled inwardly at some of the comments, which were whispered openly in the belief that he could not understand them.

The Nuel were quite conscious of the fact that all other civilized races regarded them as exceptionally ugly. For their part, the Nuel had never thought of themselves as very attractive, either. The attitudes of other peoples coupled with the Nuel's own insecurity combined to produce a racial inferiority complex unmatched among any other intelligent race. It also served to bind the Nuel tightly together.

Three other sentient species had been taken over by the expanding Nuel society. These three now kept their true opinions of the Nuel appearance well hidden. It is not healthy to make disparaging remarks about one's conqueror.

The Nuel could do nothing to make themselves attractive. Very well, then; they would settle instead for power. One day mankind, too, would be forced to hide its contempt for the Nuel. One day the bipeds of the eighty-three worlds of the UTW would kiss the ground a Nuel slid upon, if so ordered.

Until then the Nuel would bide their time, endure the continuing flow of insults inspired by their appearance, and keep silent.

Soon the visitors had left behind the smoothly crafted rooms and corridors and had entered a dimly lit passage hewn out of the solid mountain. They continued down the long tunnel. Loo-Macklin could see ancient signs and paintings covering the walls, some carefully protected by a transparent shield to prevent accidental damage.

"This is a very old place," Naras Sharaf told him reverently. "The Nuel have held Birthings here for several hundred years."

"Surely those patterns are older than that?" Loo-Macklin indicated the tunnel decorations.

"No. They are old enough, but are only duplicates of those appearing on similar tunnel walls on the Motherworld, on ancient Woluswollam. These were painted here by the first settlers of this world. So they are old but not truly ancient. Old enough, though, to be worth preserving. The inhabitants of this world take pride in their origins."

"Lucky them," said Loo-Macklin, but Sharaf's curious look did not make him elaborate further.

The passageway wound deeper into the mountain before opening into a large natural cavern. Stalactites and stalagmites grew in profusion, and there was even some butterfly calcite hanging from a nearby flowstone curtain. Geology's the same everywhere, he thought. There was running water somewhere ahead, and close by.

They were met by a Nuel clad in a peculiar conical cap and an unmoving, prewoven garment, one of the few Loo-Macklin had seen on a Nuel. It was deep brown shot through with black metal thread. Their host had been told of their coming, since he glanced only briefly at Loo-Macklin before addressing himself softly to Naras Sharaf.

"It is almost time. Truly should we hurry." He added almost imperceptibly, with a half-glance at Loo-Macklin, "I like this not."

Then they were jogging down the path leading deeper into the main cavern. Surprisingly, it began to grow lighter even though the artificial lights faded to insignificance. The cavern narrowed, then opened into a still-larger chamber. Filtered sunlight entered from the far side through a translucent green glass window of impressive proportions and multisided shape.

They had gone completely through this part of the mountain. Here an underground stream rambled through a section of cavern exquisitely decorated with long limestone straws and thick masses of twisting helectites.

It was not the colorful formations, which drew Loo-Macklin's attention, however, but the deep, still pool formed by a gaur dam on the far side of the running stream. It was the first time he'd ever seen a pregnant Nuel.

Her lower abdomen was swollen three times normal size. The loose folds of skin that formed the cilia-shielding skirt, of which Naras Sharaf was so proud, had expanded to encompass the increased volume of flesh.

The Nuel in the hat escorted them to a molded formation, which hid several observation cupouches and instructed them to keep out of sight. Particularly Loo-Macklin, whose presence could be disturbing to she-who-was-about-to-give-birth.

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.