Foster, Alan Dean Life Form(1)

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Something with eight legs and an unusual number of antennae was scuttling about as it
explored the restrictions of its new home. Wavy yellow stripes fluttered down a body the
hue of polished mahogany, terminating in blue compound eyes that wrapped around the
entire front of the head. Its wing cases were translucent yellow.
"This thing has so much sensory equipment it must know where it is even when it's
asleep." She grinned. "Mahd'ji found it under a log for me. It wasn't easy to extricate
without breaking anything, either on it or me." She examined the creature thoughtfully.
"I'm still trying to decide what to call it."
"Running out of names already?" he quipped.
"You know what I mean," she countered playfully. "It's neither insect nor arachnid. A lot of
Xican life looks very earthlike, but when you probe just a little deeper the standard
nomenclature never quite fits. That's as true of the buglike creatures here as it is of the
more advanced forms. I have to decide if this is an almost-beetle or almost-spider."
"It's Xican," he replied, as if that constituted an adequate explanation. "Maybe we'll finally
be able to utilize some real taxonomy instead of just applying randomly descrip-live labels
when we commence formal vivisection next week. With all the collecting and recording, no
one's had time to classify by internal structures yet. Cody and Ted have run
physiotomography on some of our specimens but that's not the same as getting inside and
taking a look that's up close and personal. It's lab time."
"Overdue," she agreed readily. Her gaze accidentally locked on his. "I suppose you can run
the tomographer too?"
He held the stare as long as he dared, then looked away. "As you know, I can do a little of
everything. My real specialty is that I don't have one."
She continued to toy with him, only half innocent. "Imagine holding all that knowledge in
one head. Doesn't it hurt after a while?"
"No, but there are times when I feel that I'm running out of space." He took a long breath.
"Look, there's something making really weird cries in an emergent over by the river gorge.
Mahd'ji says there's no way I'll be able to climb up to check it out, but I plan to surprise
her."
"You won't surprise me."
He very gently rested one hand on her shoulder. "Would you like to come along? There's
the usual fascinating stuff in the underbrush, and if Mahd'ji's right you'll be able to
whistle, cheer, and add whatever sound effects you like as I plunge to my doom." He
hesitated. "Also, I could use a hand with some of the gear."
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She considered for the briefest of instants, then slid gently away from his fingers. "I'm not
big enough to catch you if you fall, Jack. And right now I'm pretty overwhelmed with my
own work."
"No problem. Just thought I'd ask. If you don't ask, Favrile, you never know." After an
exchange of smiles, he left in search of Mahd'ji. Not because he needed the Pend-ju's help
to find the tree again, but because he wanted someone else to talk to, and at that particular
moment he'd just as soon it was a nonhuman.
Her shoulder tingling ever so slightly, she watched him as he strode across the cleared
ground of the village. What was he about, Jack Simna? Most of her companions were
relatively straightforward. She had no trouble dealing with Ramirez, or with Noosa or
Halstead. Prentice she knew, and she'd struck up a real friendship with Bella-Lynn
O'Sandringham. Simna fit into no easy category. He was an authentic enigma.
An awkward moment had come and gone, passing into history. It belonged now to
memory and time. As a consequence of her extraordinary beauty, over which she had no
more control than a molting macaw, she'd been forced to deal with such moments ever
since she'd turned fourteen. It immensely complicated her professional life and made it
that much harder for her to carry out any serious work. As a result, she'd had to evolve a
regimen and protocols to deal with it. She doubted she'd have any trouble with Simna.
Unusually, he admired her work as much as everything else.
If she continued to dwell on it she'd never get any work done. Resolutely, she turned back
to the cases.
"Tou'alia."
"Kou 'aliaj." Behind his wide yellow eyes Boutu looked puzzled.
"No. Not Kou'aliaj. Tou'alia" Simna insisted. They were standing near one of the five traps
that had been placed deep within the forest.
Presently it contained a blue-gray creature the size of a basketball. Round and covered in
fine dense fur, it was exploring its confines with several of its sixteen small, black,
prehensile limbs. These were scattered all over its spherical body, enabling it to move in
any direction without having to turn. Not that it had anything to turn upon, having no dis-
cernible front or back. A small, flexible organ protruded from the nominal crown. Multiple
eyes and antennae were scattered about the rotund surface as haphazardly as the grasping
limbs. There were two or four rubbery mouths: the thick fur made it difficult to tell for
certain.
"Kou'aliaj!" Boutu argued vociferously, showing an unusual amount of animation.
"It's not a Kou'aliaj," Simna argued. "Ton'alia."
"What's going on?" Prentice arrived, with Noosa and Halstead close behind.
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Simna was mildly exasperated. "We've caught another Tou'alia. Boutu keeps insisting I'm
misidentifying it. He persists in calling it a Kou'aliaj."
Prentice peered closely at the creature testing the boundaries of its cage. "Don't we already
have two of these back at base? It looks like a Tou'alia to me." He glanced at his
companions. "Cody?"
Noosa didn't hesitate. "No question about it. It doesn't look like anything else we've
encountered, but it does look exactly like the pair we picked up a month ago."
"Spherical body, multiple small limbs and scattered oculars, dorsal sensory organ: it's a
Tou'alia for sure." If anything, Halstead was even more positive than his colleagues.
Simna turned back to the attentive Boutu, pointing repeatedly at the cage as he did so.
"Tou'alia," he reiterated patiently. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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