The flects stirred first, sensitive to the first rays of the rising sun. Powered up, they turned to the business of pouring light on their still somnolent companions. Next into action were the warriors. They immediately took note of what had occurred while they'd slept and began the sad task of supervising the cleanup. The walls hurried to repair the gap in the community's protective barrier.
Evan wished he could listen in to their conversation, but he had no way of deciphering the cacophony of buzzes, squeaks, and hums that filled the morning air. He had to wait for Azure to wake. Plugged in both to him and to the tower, they waited together on the lingering libraries, who remained motionless longest of all. Perhaps they required more energy to become active because of their prodigious memories.
"Vwacorites," muttered the first library when the corpse of one Evan had killed was displayed by a pair of warriors. "A periodic curse. Nothing we can do about them, unfortunately, except hope that the walls will hold through the night. In this instance it's clear they did not, though they are not to blame. We encounter the creatures during the day sometimes. When we do, our warriors kill all they can find. They cannot stand against us during the day. The world is nothing if not equitable, however. The night belongs to them. Then they take their revenge."
"It is not equitable," the third library insisted. "They can run or fight during the day. We can do neither during the long darkness."
"A fact which I particularly regretted last night," the second declared. "It would have been a grand sight to watch our alien friend drive them away. They cannot know that you are a pure organic and that your exoskeleton is a product of the froporia and not your own body. Such knowledge would shock them even more."
"Do they form communities too, like your Associative?"
"None that we have ever encountered." There was sorrow in the third library's tone. "The Vwacorites are not the only ones we have to fear during the long darkness, but they are the worst because they work together."
"It's so damned unfair," Evan mumbled. "There must be some way for you to defend yourself at night."
"Would that there were. In most instances the solidity of the walls is sufficient. Very few creatures have the strength to break through healthy walls before we awaken. Only the Vwacorites are a persistent problem." Evan received the impression of a sigh. "Intelligence carries with it corresponding curses. Surely it's the same with your own kind."
Evan mulled that one over. He was still outraged by what he'd witnessed the night before. The grounds of the Associative were full of busy gatherers patiently recovering the fragments of walls and warriors and the others who'd been killed. Once more the storehouse was defended by three warriors. A physician was working to repair the lens off the one who was missing an eye.
"Naturally there is no way for us to thank you appropriately for what you have done for us."
"Any civilized individual would have done the same."
"There is no need for false modesty."
Evan smiled faintly. "That's something I've never been guilty of. Listen, when I get back in touch with my people we're going to take care off this problem for you, somehow. We have developed defenses, weapons, that function just as well at night as they do during the day."
"These defenses would operate forever, without your supervision?"
"Well, not forever, no, but..." He hesitated, struck by a sudden thought. "What you need, of course, is something you can maintain and repair yourselves. Maybe what you really need isn't something new at all. It's always more practical to modify an existing device than to replace it."
"We do not understand your meaning." The three libraries spoke in concert.
"It may not be worth anything. My idea, that is. But I would like to suggest it."
" Go ahead and suggest," said the third library.
"I need something first." He was glad they could not interpret the expression on his face. They owed him for what he'd done last night, but still, there was no accounting for alien reactions. They seemed sensible, highly logical folk, but how could you guess at customs as yet unobserved?
He'd gone too far to back out. "I need," he said evenly, "one of your cadavers."
A pause while he waited tensely. The libraries conversed among themselves. They must have passed on their conclusion to the talker standing outside because two gatherers appeared shortly thereafter. They carried a dead warrior between them.
Evan moved to examine the corpse. It lay on its back and though the bright colors hadn't changed, they had become duller somehow; the red lenses were dark. Several of the limbs were missing, carried off by the Vwacorites. Around the body lingered the vinegary smell of dried internal fluids.
The heavy armor was cracked in several places, but Evan couldn't see inside. He explained his requirements to Azure, who passed them on to the libraries. Evan waited and hoped he wasn't stepping on any local superstitions. But the corpse had to be opened up.
While they waited the flects shifted their stances periodically to ensure that those at the meeting place received maximum sunshine. Occasionally one would have to be reminded to turn away from Evan, who had less need of their attentions.
Eventually they were joined by four physicians. Together they represented more than half of the medical complement of the Associative. Their names were far longer and more complex than Azure's. Evan satisfied himself by identifying them with numbers, as he had the libraries.
Once the request was explained to them they went to work quickly. They looked much like the libraries, though not as large and without the distinctive backward-facing horns. By way of compensation they boasted the most extraordinary array of fine tentacles, fingers, and cilia, along with more specialized limbs, that Evan had ever seen attached to a single being. These they employed on the warrior's corpse with marvelous efficiency.
The dissection was not ignored by the other members of the Associative. While they continued about their daily tasks, those who passed the meeting ground glanced curiously at the activities taking place there, wondering what the libraries and the strange alien were up to. Only the less intelligent, more prosaic individuals like the conduits and walls ignored the goings-on.
Evan watched intently and tried to make sense out of the warrior's insides. He wasn't having too much luck. It was more like looking at a machine than a living creature, and an alien machine at that. With neither metal nor plastic in its body.
It was left to the physicians, communicating with him through the good offices of the talker, to enlighten him. The third gestured with a delicate tentacle.
"Here is the organ you expressed an interest in seeing."
Evan leaned over the opened body. The physician was indicating a cylindrical silicate shape full of fine striations and subtle inclusions. It was light yellow and mildly translucent. Evan could see where the striations connected up with filaments that ran through the rest of the body.
Despite the absence of blood and flesh, he had to steady himself while the physician, at his request, removed the organ in question. It was handed to Evan, who tried to examine it with the scientific detachment he tried to convince himself he possessed. Bundles of filaments protruded from both ends. It was not very heavy.
When he asked the physicians what the organ was called, he was not surprised when the mind picture they gave him was translated as heart.
"I've watched you replacing legs and eyes. Why can't you simply enlarge these organs? Is this beyond your skills?"
"We are not ignorant," the second physician replied. "The same line of thinking has occurred to us also. But no matter how much we increase the size of the heart, it does not seem capable of generating additional energy."
So much for that bright idea, Evan thought disconsolately. He studied the organ closely. It was dry to the touch. Evidently it could not store solar power for very long. A few hours of darkness depleted its reserves.
If it could be supercooled it might provide enough power to last someone like Azure through the long night. He was dreaming. Encasing the organ in a bath of liquid nitrogen would likely have other, less efficacious effects on the rest of the body. Gently he placed the organ back in the warrior's body and stepped clear.
It had been a worthwhile idea, though, even if it hadn't panned out. It seemed that Azure and his kin were destined to remain at the mercy of night-roaming organosilicates.
From what the libraries had told him the Vwacontes were likely to return, perhaps more heavily armed this time and prepared to deal even with alien interlopers.
"It's not fair," he said again, without thinking that it would be picked up by the talker and relayed to those around him.
"Who ever said life was?" quipped the fourth physician. "There is nothing to be done for it. When the sun goes down, we go down with it."
"Your bodies are so well designed, so efficiently put together. This is all that's holding you back. Maybe one day you'll have access to my people's advanced technology. You're such natural biosilicate engineers now, I can see you someday producing something as advanced as this without the need for machines." He showed them the emergency beacon that pulsed in his wrist.
"This is the device that produces the signal that we're going to try to trace. It's a small transmitter, homing unit, and identity generator all in one, powered by a tiny lithium battery."
One of the libraries perked up. "Battery? That sounds like heart."
"No, they're not the same." He found himself frowning as he thought furiously. What a crazy idea! "They're not the same at all."
One of the physicians crawled nearer. Multiple lenses focused on the softly pulsing beacon. "Might I see that a little more closely?"
"Well-be careful with it."
"We are careful with everything," came the slightly insulted reply.
They had trusted him. Could he do less, even with his last link to a possible survivor of the station catastrophe? Surely they would handle it with great care. He used thumb and forefinger to remove it from its aseptic receptacle in his wrist and handed it to the curious alien. Physicians crowded around the strange artifact. Peculiar limbs and structures felt of it constantly.
"Interesting flavor," the first physician murmured.
"Miorian, yancoth, seririgia," the fourth added. "What of the internal structure?"
Evan winced as the cap on the back of the unit was pried open, but he held his peace.
"Fascinating. See here?" the third said. "Different but not complex."
"The purpose is clearly divined via the structure," the first commented.
Eventually they handed it back to Evan.
"I believe," the first physician said solemnly, "that we can duplicate this and apply it to our own bodies."
Evan snapped it back into his wrist, smiled gently. "I don't mean to denigrate your abilities, but I don't think you can. The beacon is the product of a fully equipped modern factory. You don't just grow one like a flower."
"Not the entire organ. We are interested only in its heart."
"Even that. There's lithium involved. You can't toss that stuff around in a free state. It's too volatile."
"What is he talking about?" the second physician muttered.
"I think he refers to bequanel," the third said.
"Oh. Is that all?"
The four physicians conferred. A discussion involving the libraries followed. Two of the physicians disappeared, to return moments later with a pair of processors in tow. The meeting place became a hive of activity. For the moment, Evan's presence was forgotten.
"What are they doing?"
"Trying, I think, to build a little heart like the one in your wrist," Azure informed him.
"I was afraid of that. I didn't mean to raise false hopes. I was hoping your own hearts could be modified to store more energy. You can't just add another organ to your bodies, even if it could be duplicated without the use of sophisticated microprocessor-controlled machine tools."
Azure looked up at him innocently. "Why not?"
"Well-because."
"I am no physician or library, but that does not strike me as a reasonable explanation. You must not underestimate the skill of the physicians. They can rebuild almost any part of a body. Except the mind, of course. You cannot rebuild memories."
"I don't think you can handle lithium in a free state either, but it looks like they're going to have to find that out for themselves." When final discouragement set in, he decided, he didn't want to be around to witness it. He rose. The others ignored him. "I'd like to see the rest of the Associative at work. I've still got a lot to learn about it."
"Truly," agreed Azure ambiguously.
He spent most of the remainder of the day watching the inhabitants of the community go about their daily tasks, marveling at the skill of the gatherers, exchanging stares with the big-eyed scanners, chatting with other scouts. It was late afternoon when he and Azure returned to the meeting place. He sat down and hardly took notice when the talker outside plugged itself in.
"You see," he said as gently as possible, "there are some substances that just can't be manipulated by hand. Or any other kind of limb."
The first physician sounded apologetic. "Actually, we have already placed the newly grown organs within ourselves and the libraries. We will be working on the warriors next."
Evan frowned. "New organs?"
"Similar to the storage organ you showed us. Very ingeniously constructed. We had to make certain modifications- we are not keen on metal, for example. It makes us itch."
"Look, you can't grow batteries the way you raise wheat. They have to be-"
"Yes, that is what we will call them." Ignoring their confused guest, the physicians exchanged a brief flurry of information. The second looked up at him.
"Would you like to see one?"
Evan said nothing. The physicians construed his silence as acceptance.
A line of warriors was waiting outside the meeting place. One entered and lay down between the physicians. In a minute it was stiff and immobile, though whether the coma was self-induced or a result of some medical sleightof-hand by the physicians Evan couldn't tell.
They went to work silently. Two linked themselves directly to the motionless form by means of tubular limbs. The other pair peeled back strips and plates of silicate material, exposing the interior structure of their guardian. Throughout the operation the warrior never stirred.
The two physicians doing the delicate work turned to face each other. Substances began to appear from the tips of organs, to be formed into a tiny shape as the viscous matter solidified. The finished product was a little larger than Evan's fist. It was a dull gray except for the numerous thin glassy fibers that protruded from both ends. It looked like nothing he'd ever seen before.
They turned back to their patient and delved still deeper, until they had exposed a yellowish organ shaped like a pipe. Evan recognized the silicate heart. It did not beat, of course. Unlike a mammalian heart it delivered its steady flow of energy to its owner quietly and without visible movement.
As he stared, the physicians disconnected several small bundles of the fibers emerging from one end of the organ. A hollow was carved out and the newly formed mass of silicon carefully emplaced. Fibers were connected and sealed. Then the body cavity was closed back up.
The other pair of physicians disconnected themselves, leaving the warrior to function on his own. One touched a thin limb to the heavily armored skull. Black lenses clicked together over red eyes. Another minute and the patient was back on its many feet. Evan watched in amazement as it thanked the physicians before turning to depart. Outside, its comrades were waiting to question it. A second warrior moved forward in anticipation of its own operation.
"Don't you feel pain?"
"Usually it can be restricted by shutting down certain parts of the body," the first physician informed him. "It depends on how extensive the damage is and how large the area to be repaired. We thank you for the gift of this wondrous new organ."
"But it's not an organ," Evan protested. "It's a battery, and you don't just make one out of regurgitated goo."
"What do you consider to be an organ?"
"Well, it's a part of the body, the overall structure, that performs a clearly defined function contributing to that body's continued healthy operation."
"I could not have defined it better myself. The compounds and structure involved are quite simple. We are simply improving on nature. Do you never do this to your own bodies?"
"No. I mean it's different." Well, was it? I-low many people back on Samstead did he know who had artificial organs or limbs of one kind or another? No, it wasn't the thought of placing an artificial organ in a member of the Associative that challenged conventional thought, Evan decided. It was the method of manufacture that seemed so outrageous. It couldn't work. You couldn't just slap together a lithium battery because its design was . . .
Very simple, wasn't it?
Could it actually work? And if it did, what other machine-manufactured devices could the physicians of Prism mimic?
"If this functions as it should," the third physician told him with barely concealed glee, "the Vwacorites are going to be in for quite a shock."
"We'll know tonight," the fourth added. "By then we should have all the warriors modified."
"Not to mention the scouts," Azure added.
The Vwacorites did indeed return late that night. This time they came armed with weapons that resembled bows of blue glass that could fire many-pointed shards of silica. They could have cut Evan and any other interfering organic to ribbons. But Evan had no intention of exposing himself to those quartz arrows, nor did he have to. The warriors held their positions until a signal launched them at the invaders. So overwhelming and unexpected was the counterattack that the raiders offered no resistance. They simply could not believe what was happening. Something had turned the natural order of things on its figurative ear. The Vwacorites were unable to adjust.
Powerful limbs and jaws took the more vulnerable invaders apart. Buzzsawlike teeth and jaws ripped through silicate exoskeletons to make short work of the soft flesh inside.
The surviving Vwacoftes had barely enough sense to retreat back into the forest. If it had been left to the warriors none would have escaped the ambush, but the libraries had decreed that some should live so that they might inform others of their kind that this Associative, at least, ought to be left alone at night as well as during the day. No longer would the members of the community greet the darkness in fear. No longer would the hard-won booty of the gatherers and processors be carried off with impunity by unseen thieves.
In showing them the lithium wafer battery Evan had done more than demonstrate one small aspect of humanx technology. He had given back the night to the most intelligent inhabitants of Prism.
He had already surmised that the members of the Associative were not given to effusive displays of emotion, but that didn't prevent their taking time off the following day for a brief celebration. Many invocations were made to the sun, that source of all life. Evan approved, for like all living things he too drew his strength from the sun, if rather less directly than his newfound friends. There was also something akin to a concert, with the libraries generating (via the talkers) a great deal of amplified noise that closely resembled electronic music.
"I've been thinking," Evan started to tell the first physician during a lull in the cacophony.
"A laudable enterprise."
He smiled. "If you can analyze the structure of and then duplicate naturally something as simple as a wafer battery, I wonder what you'd do with a more complex energy-storage system. You might be able to mimic a unit that would enable you to function for several days of continuous darkness."
"That thought has occurred to us already," said Azure. "The physicians are working on it now." A hint of pride reverberated in his mental voice.
Evan hoped he didn't come across as condescending. "Duplicating an existing design is one thing, but I'm not sure you have the wherewithal to make improvements. You don't have any background in microengineering or manufacture, for one thing."
"You may be right," the first physician conceded. "I do not understand the meaning of those terms. All we know how to do is repair our own bodies. But it is fun to try."
"Well, you know what can hurt you and what can't."
"Yes, that is so."
Evan had the most peculiar feeling that the physician was trying hard not to sound condescending to him.
"Actually," the alien continued, "we have been considering the possibility of building an improved battery organ for you."
Evan tapped his wrist below the glowing emergency beacon. "That's all right. There's plenty of power left in this one yet. I just activated it recently."
" No, you misunderstand." The physician waddled forward and traced a circle over Evan's chest. "For you."
The range of expressions that played over Evan's face would have been fascinating to another human observer. "You don't understand," he said finally, speaking slowly and clearly with his mind. "I run on chemical energy, not solar. I don't have a battery. My heart doesn't store energy the way yours does, and there's no way to supplement its supply. I have millions of much smaller batteries called cells."
"I see," said the physician after a moment of careful deliberation. "There is much about organics we do not know, though we have studied them at every opportunity."
1 am not a new opportunity, Evan felt like informing them brusquely, but it shouldn't be necessary to point that out. "I appreciate the thought, really. A battery wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe I wouldn't get hungry as often as I have been here lately. But I'm afraid the analogy doesn't hold up where my body is concerned."
"What a pity," murmured the fourth physician. "You don't mind if we continue to discuss the concept, though. Purely for our own amusement."
"Not at all." He was curious to see what bizarre ideas they might come up with. Maybe one of them would suggest building him a second stomach.
Yes, he was curious, because he'd seen what they could do, and it implied opportunities for profit no one could have foreseen. These natives were evidently able to synthesize complex structures from raw materials. Imagine several of them assigned to a company starship. He wondered about their tolerances for extremes of heat and cold. They did not breathe. He envisioned several trained physicians living on the skin of a ship, attending to dangerous and complex repairs without the encumbrances of suits or tools, growing the necessary replacement parts within their own bodies.
Farfetched? Certainly, but no more extreme than what he'd already seen on Prism. Exploration of such possibilities required that several things come to pass first, however. Not the least of these was that he return safely to the station in the company of Martine Ophemert, if possible, without her if not.
The Associative's talkers easily triangulated the rapidly weakening beacon, and the expedition to accompany Evan was decided upon. It would consist of a gatherer and processor, two of the physicians, an appropriate number of warriors, and, of course, Azure. After some discussion it was determined that the first library should also go. Not so much to aid Evan in his purpose as to ensure that whatever knowledge the group gleaned would be preserved for the education of the community.
Evan was repacking his supplies on the morning set for departure while the rest of the group assembled outside the meeting place. "Why not bring along a talker?" he asked Azure. "That way we could all stay in touch with the rest of the Associative."
"It would take ten times longer to reach your friend," the scout explained, "and you have indicated it is important to find her as quickly as possible. Talkers are not very mobile. They prefer to remain in one place and move only when the entire Associative moves to a new location." Azure seemed to hesitate a moment, then added, "The question of talking has provoked much discussion these past several days. It has also engendered an experiment, of sorts. Physicians, processors, and the libraries have collaborated on it."
"Really?" Almost through with his repacking, Evan looked up curiously at the glassy face only centimeters from his own. "What kind of experiment?"
Again the hesitation before replying. "It is in the nature of a present."
"You don't say?" Evan hadn't noticed much in the way of arts and crafts within the Associative, but out of politeness if naught else he'd certainly accept whatever bauble or trinket they'd decided to bestow on him.
While he waited, a solemn procession entered the meeting place and lined up to face him. The first physician stepped forward. Evan extended a hand to accept the gift. The physician eyed the limb, then turned to speak rapidly at Azure.
"It is not something you carry with you," the scout tried to explain. "It is something you carry with you."
"Well, that clarifies it," Evan said dryly.
Azure elaborated. "It is an insertion."
Evan frowned, withdrew his hand. "A whaaat?"
"We have studied organic forms intensively and have accumulated a great deal of knowledge about their design. The libraries and physicians retain all such information. In addition, I have been able to study your particular anatomy intimately these past many days. Particularly while you slept. This learning I passed on to the libraries."
Evan felt himself tensing. "You studied me while I was asleep? Without my knowledge?"
"It did not seem to trouble you."
"It troubles me now!" Evan had visions of alien limbs probing his motionless body, of pains and discomforts barely sensed. It wasn't that he found the revelation revolting-- after all, the probing had never even awakened him from a sound sleep. It was just that it was, well, discourteous. A man's body is his castle.
But not to Azure's kin. To them it was a new book, to be read and studied. "I am sorry for that. What will you do with the present?"
He held up both hands. "Nobody's sticking anything in me, no matter how well intentioned."
"Your pardon, but you have accepted communications tendrils from the talker and myself, without injury or hurt."
Evan lowered his hands. He was not xenophobic, and he was curious. "Let's see the damn thing, anyway."
After a brief conversation the third physician stepped forward and held out a hand. The entire hand was no larger than the nail on Evan's small finger. The open palm was ringed by minuscule digits. Within the center of the palm was what looked like a splinter of brown crystal. Evan had to lean close and squint to make it out. He had expected something considerably larger.
"That's the present?" Azure said yes. "Where is it supposed to go-assuming I'd allow it to go any where and what's it supposed to do?"
"It will fit in your empty plug," Azure informed him slowly, "and will enable you to communicate not just with me but with any member of the Associative, without the complication of communications tendrils. It will permit you to talk as we talk. For private conversation tendrils must still be employed, but we have nothing to hide from you and you have no tendrils of your own in any case."
Evan gazed at the minuscule fragment in fascination. It had been manufactured-no, grown-by the members of the Associative. Specifically for him. To fit his plug. Was it possible? And if it was possible, what of the unreal possibility it raised? To wit: if two humans were equipped with such a device, would it permit mind-to-mind communication between them?
The advent of one of mankind's most cherished and ancient dreams, here, on this primitive, berserk world? Telepathy?
Well, no, he told himself. Not telepathy. A kind of radio to radio to mind broadcasting. The appearance of telepathy without the substance. Dare he let these hard-bodied aliens monkey with his mind?
Hadn't they already?
"You must trust the physicians," Azure implored him. "They know exactly what they are about, and can draw on the knowledge of the libraries for confirmation. They would not attempt anything they did not think they could carry out."
Evan took a deep breath. "How much cutting is involved?"
"No cutting. Only connecting."
That was something. Since the transplant was not composed of organic materials, his body's immune system ought to ignore it. "What about pain?"
The first physician addressed him via the talker outside, and sounded offended. "We are physicians!"
Everything the members of the Associative had done thus far had been on the up and up. They had helped him without being asked, and he had reciprocated as best as he'd been able. Every dealing to date between man and members had been of mutual benefit. It would be wonderful, of course, to be able to make the forthcoming journey without Azure draped around his neck, and to be able to talk directly to any one of his companions-to-be.
When he finally consented, however, it was not to gain those very real advantages. He did it because of what its success would imply for the future. "What do I do?" I am completely out of my mind, he thought.
"Lie down," Azure instructed him.
Evan complied, closing his eyes and removing his crystal sunshades. He had accepted those and the suit of white armor readily enough, but that was very different from having something inserted inside his body. He could sense shapes surrounding his head, moving close. Azure's tendrils were withdrawn. He felt oddly light-headed, a condition that commonly affects those on the verge of a great discovery- or a sea change. With Azure unplugged, would any of them understand the meaning of a human scream?
Touches at his left ear, so faint and delicate it might have been nothing more than a light breeze. A soft humming sound, pleasant and relaxing. It must have been some kind of sonic anaesthetic, for he felt no pain. He thought of music and to keep his mind busy and content he tried to recall special works of art and match them mentally to different compositions. A dim, distant part of him shouted desperately, What are you doing? He ignored it, preferring instead to concentrate on the gentle susurration washing over his mind.
He was about to gesture for Azure to plug back in so he could ask what the delay was when a familiar voice said softly, "It's already over, Evan. The installation is complete."
Installation. Appropriate. He opened his eyes and sat up slowly, his muscles stiff and tired. He'd been halfconscious for more than the couple of minutes he'd envisioned. A few drops of blood stained his hand when he put it to his ear, but no more. And still there was no pain.
"It seems to have gone well," another mental voice said, deeper and more resonant than the scout's. He looked down and saw the first physician eying him speculatively. "How do you feel?"
"Like I just took a giant step into a vast empty place," the still numb Evan murmured. Gingerly he felt of the area around his ear. He had received an implant tuned to the broadcast and receive frequencies of these creatures, though whether his mind or the device was doing the actual translating of words he couldn't tell. He was involved with aspects of science that were beyond him.
Intimately involved, now.
The primitive physicians of Prism had just done something no human medical lab could have accomplished. They had done it naturally, without the aid of complex machines, unless you regarded them as machines. Aren't we all machines? he mused. Change the arrangement of atoms within molecules and you have metal instead of flesh. Life defines itself. The rest is nothing more than cosmetics.
The rest of the Associative went about its daily business as the search party departed, though it still received something of a triumphal send-off. Instead of merely parting to let the travelers out, the walls formed a temporary arch of majestic proportions, while the flects produced a dazzling display of rainbows and beams of light. Then the walls closed the gap behind them, and the little expedition was on its own, following the course defined by the talkers. Evan's beacon grew brighter as they marched, confirming the accuracy of the talkers' triangulation.
Evan thought he'd seen the only intelligent lifeforms on Prism when the Vwacorites had fought his friends. The second day out showed him otherwise. Prism was home to several intelligent species, all of them battling the inimical forest forms while competing for dominance among themselves.
They heard the sounds of battle before they found the source. The noise rose from a valley beyond the ridge they were ascending. As they reached the crest, the battlefield came into view, but it was distant and far below. He couldn't make out individuals clearly, nor could his companions. Except for Azure, who provided a running description for the rest of them. Acute vision was vital to a scout.
While Azure described, the library recorded for posterity. There was nothing unique about the conflict, Evan was told. This sort of thing went on among the Qwacolia all the time.
From what little Evan could see, the members of this third intelligent race closely resembled the Vwacorites who had attacked the Associative. Organosilicates, their hard exteriors protected softer insides. They fought with spears and clubs fashioned of complex silicate compounds. Even at a distance many of the weapons were beautiful to look upon, though their purpose was not.
"What are they fighting about?"
"Who knows what soft ones fight over?" the library replied. "Territory? Food? This peculiar drive involving reproduction? All of it is irrational, since any of it could be better achieved by cooperation instead of fighting. But that is not the way of soft things." Evan felt vitreous lenses focused on him, and not only those of the library. "Is it the same with your own kind?"
"Sometimes. We've learned to cooperate a lot better these past several hundred years, and the thranx have helped a lot, but we still have many conflicts over petty things. As you say, nothing that couldn't be better solved through cooperation."
"See." The library turned back to survey the ongoing battle. "The soft ones of the nearer tribe are driving the others back."
As some of the dust settled Evan could make out individual corpses littering the ground. Azure resumed his commentary.
"They are all so similar in form. They may differ in external ornamentation, but they have the same number and kinds of limbs, of eyes and other sensory organs. Yet they fight one another while we, who are as different as can be, do not."
All true, Evan mused. Difficult to imagine two more different beings than a library and a warrior, or flect and physician.
"Specialization seems to compel harmony," he commented, "whereas each of us combines in ourselves aspects of warrior and physician, library and gatherer, processor and scanner. It appears that versatility engenders hostility instead of cooperation."
"Except in your case," the library observed cogently.
"Perhaps we are more advanced in the hierarchy of soft things. We have used our minds to overcome many of our ancient instincts. Though physically I'm probably more closely related to those combatants down there, in every other way I have far more in common with you, mentally anal morally."
"I have seen enough." The library was unable to keep the disgust out of his voice. "We don't want to tarry here."
As they marched on Evan considered what had just been seen and said. Did the device they had implanted in his head do more than just facilitate communication? Had they decided to work on his mind instead of his body? Distorting his perspective in order to guarantee his friendship?
No, that was nonsense. His opinions remained his own, formed strictly on the basis of cool observations of his surroundings. He was still the same Evan Orgell. A broadcast-and-receive unit inside his head and a suit of organic armor hadn't changed that. He hadn't said what he'd said because it was what his new friends wanted to hear. He'd said it because it was the truth.
He glanced down at his gleaming white froporia armor. Clothing, nothing more. He could remove it at his leisure. He just didn't want to, that's all. It was beautiful as well as utilitarian. He was simply being practical.
They pushed their way through what looked like a grove of giant asparagus fashioned of solid emerald. Evan declared his intention to take a sample from one of the magnificent growths. His companions were willing enough to assist in this peculiar request but the trunks resisted even the cutting power of the warrior's jaws. This despite the fact that the boles were hollow. Minute creatures of red and blue lived inside, scampering up and down the inner corridors. Another relationship Evan didn't have time to explore.
As the hours passed he became aware of the changes within his own body. Working behind a desk does little for the muscles. The long walks he took had helped, but not to the extent of his past days on Prism. The slight potbelly he'd acquired over the past five years had vanished. Legs and stomach alike had firmed up considerably, responding to the recent unusual demands he'd put on the rarely used tissue. He felt stronger and healthier than he had in a decade. All that as a result of having abandoned his suit.
But he hadn't really gone suitless. He'd merely traded in the MHW for a local, primitive analog, one which encouraged rather than suppressed the body's own development. The froporia exoskeleton could not begin to duplicate what the MHW could do, but on the other hand his body was now capable of much more than it had been while he'd been encased in that supreme product of Samsteadian technology. Which combination was the more practical for traveling about on an alien world: superior suit and weaker body, or better body and primitive suit?
Not that he'd been given a choice in the matter.
The equation was slightly tilted when he awoke the next morning. He was more surprised than startled to see one of the warriors standing over him. The physicians were nearby, watching.
"We have made some improvements to your exoskeleton," the warrior informed him in its gruff fashion. The mere fact of the announcement itself was unusual. Conversation was not the warriors' strong suit.
Evan sat up, blinking and still sleepy. "Improvements . . . what?" He looked over toward the physicians, who voiced concurrence.
"What kind of `improvements'?"
"It is not enough to be able to withstand an attack. Sometimes vigorous methods of defense must be employed. The other fighters and I have noted you did not possess the facilities for such. We offered suggestions. The physicians agreed with them. Together we oversaw the improvements while you slept."
"That was very considerate of you." Evan eyed the fighting machine warily. "Uh, how do I make use of these improvements?" He stood, feeling perversely more confident now that the warrior was forced to look up at him.
"Clench tightly the fingers of your right hand."
Evan complied with the order, jumped slightly in spite of himself when the action caused four ten-centimeterlong spikes to emerge from his armor just above the knuckles. Flexing his fingers, he observed that the spikes withdrew and re-emerged like the claws of a cat. His left hand was similarly equipped. The silicate stilettos fit perfectly into the armor that covered his wrist and the back of his hand.
Springs of some kind activated the weapons, cued to the contractions of his own tendons. Making a tight fist, he examined the spikes on his right hand closely. They were perfectly transparent. Each ended in a sharp point. They were impressive enough to fend off many silicate lifeforms and were capable of devastating anything organic.
"Thank you." He spoke directly to the warrior. "It's nice to have weapons of one's own. I've been feeling pretty helpless ever since I had to give up my first suit. It's been embarrassing, having to rely on you for my protection all the time."
"Why?" the library asked him. "We all rely on warriors for protection. None of us is equipped to defend ourselves. Only warriors."
"And scouts," Azure chipped in, "which is why the warriors felt you would feel more confident with devices of your own. I agreed." He turned and gestured. "I have been ahead, as is my job. There is another canyon to negotiate."