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Vital Ingredient

Charles V. De Vet




  Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  _It is man's most precious possession--no living thing can exist without it. But when they gave it to Orville, it killed him. For the answer, read 1/M._

  Vital Ingredient

  By Charles V. De Vet

  "Now watch," Remm said, indicating the native. Macker had been absent,exploring the countryside in the immediate vicinity of their landingplace, and had not witnessed the capture of the native, or the tests histwo companions made on it.

  Macker followed Remm's gaze to where the biped native sat hunched. Thecreature was bent into an ungainly position, its body crooked atincongruous angles, in such a way as to allow most of its weight to reston a packing-box at the base of a middle angle. Its stubby feet, on theends of thin, pipelike legs, rested against the floor of the space ship.Its body was covered, almost entirely, with an artificial skin materialof various colors. Some of the colors hurt Macker's eyes. In the fewplaces where the flesh showed through the skin was an unhealthy, pallidwhite.

  Slowly the creature's head swiveled on its short neck until it facedthem.

  "Those orifices in the upper portion of its skull are evidently organsof sight," Remm said. "It sees that we are quite a distance away. Itwill probably attempt to escape again."

  Slowly--slowly--the native's head rotated away from them in ahalf-circle until it faced Toolls, working over his instruments on thefar side of the room. Then it turned its head back until it faced thedoor of the ship.

  "It is setting itself for flight now," Remm said. "Notice the evidenceof strain on its face."

  The creature leaned forward and the appendages on the ends of its upperlimbs clutched the sides of the box as it propelled its body forward.

  It raised its right foot in a slow arc, employing a double-jointed,breaking action of its leg. For a long moment it rested its entireweight on its lumpy right foot, while its momentum carried its bodysluggishly forward. Then it repeated the motion with its left leg; thenagain its right. All the while evidencing great exertion andconcentration of effort.

  "It is making what it considers a mad dash for freedom," Remm said."Probably at the ultimate speed of which it is capable. That would beridiculous except that it's normal for its own environment. This isdefinitely a slow-motion world."

  The creature was a third-way to the door now. Once again its head turnedin its slow quarter-circle, to look at them. As it saw that Remm andMacker had not moved it altered the expression on its face.

  "It seems to express its emotions through facial contortions," Remmsaid. "Though I suspect that the sounds it makes with the upper part ofits trachea during moments of agitation are also outlets of emotionalstress, rather than efforts at communication." He called across the roomto Toolls. "What did you find out about its speech?"

  "Extremely primitive," Toolls replied. "Incredible as it may appear tous it uses combinations of sounds to form word-symbols. Each wordindicates some action, or object; or denotes degree, time, or shades ofmeaning. Other words are merely connectives. It seems to make little useof inflections, the basis of a rational language. Thoughts which we canproject with a few sounds would take it dozens of words to express."

  "Just how intelligent is it?" Macker asked.

  "Only as intelligent as a high degree of self-preservation instinctwould make it."

  "Are you certain that it is a member of the dominant species of life onthe planet?"

  "There's no doubt about it," Toolls replied. "I've made very carefulobservations."

  "This attempt at escape is a pretty good example of its intelligence,"Remm said. "This is the sixth time it has tried to escape--in exactlythe same way. As soon as it sees that we are farther away from it thanit is from the door, it makes its dash."

  * * * * *

  The creature was one step away from the space ship's open portal now andbringing its foot up to cross the threshold. Remm walked over and liftedit off the floor.

  "Its legs are still moving in a running motion," Macker said. "Doesn'tit realize yet that you've picked it up?"

  _It was an arm to be proud of--but what good was it?_]

  "Its nervous system and reflexes are evidently as slow as its motormuscles," Remm replied. "There has not been time for the sensation of mypicking it up to reach the brain, and for the brain to send back itsmessage to the legs to stop their running motion."

  "How heavy is it?" Macker asked.

  "Only a few ounces," Remm replied. "But that's logical considering thatthis is a 'light' planet. If we took it back to our own 'heavy' world,gravity would crush it to a light film of the liquid which comprises thegreater part of its substance."

  Remm set the creature down on the box in its former queerly contortedposition. Toolls had left his instruments and strolled over beside themto observe the native.

  "One of its appendages seems bent at a peculiar angle," Macker said.

  "I noticed that," Remm answered. "I think that I may have broken thebone in several places when I first captured it. I was not aware then ofhow fragile it was. But now that you mention it, I should be able to usethat injury to give you a good illustration of the interplay ofemotional expressions on its face. Observe now as I touch it."

  Remm reached over and touched--very lightly--the broken portion of thenative's appendage. The muscles of the creature's face pulled itsflaccid flesh into distorted positions, bunching some and stretchingothers. "It is very probably registering pain," Remm said.

  Suddenly the starch seemed to leave the native's body and it slowlyslumped across the packing-box.

  "Why is it doing that, Toolls?" Remm asked.

  Toolls concentrated for a minute, absorbing the feelings and thoughtpulsations emanating from the creature. "The conscious plane of its mindhas blanked out," he said. "I presume the pain you caused by touchingits wounded member resulted in a breakdown of its nervous system. Theonly thought waves I receive now are disjointed impressions and picturesfollowing no rational series. However, I'm certain that it will be onlytemporary."

  "Don't you think that in justice to the creature we should repair itswound before we free it?" Macker asked.

  "I had intended to have it done," Remm replied. "You shouldn't have anytrouble fixing it, should you, Toolls?"

  "No," Toolls answered. "I may as well attend to it right now." He rolledthe portable _converter_ over beside the creature and carefully laid itsarm in the "pan." The _converter_ automatically set its gauges andinstruments of calculation, and gave its click of "ready."

  Toolls fed a short length of _basic_ into the machine and it began itswork. The native was still unconscious.

  The bone of the wounded arm slowly evaporated, beginning with the wristjoint. The evaporated portion was instantly replaced by themanufactured bone of the _converter_. At the same time it repaired allruptured blood vessels and damaged ligaments and muscles.

  "It was not possible, of course, for me to replace the bone with anotherof the same composition as its own," Toolls said, after the machine hadcompleted its work. "But I gave it one of our 'heavy' ones. There willbe no force on this planet powerful enough to break it again."

  * * * * *

  The native's first evidence of a return to consciousness was a faintfluttering of the lids that covered its organs of vision. The lidsopened and it looked up at them.

  "Its eyesight is as slow as its muscular reactions," Remm said. "Watch."Remm raised his hand and waved it slowly in front of the native's face.The eyes of the native, moving in odd, jerking movements, followed thehand's progress. Remm raised the hand--speeding its action slightly--andthe eyesight faltered and lost it. The n
ative's eyes rolled wildly untilonce again they located the hand.

  Remm took three steps forward. The native's eyes were unable to followhis change of position. Its gaze wandered about the room, until againits settled on Remm's waiting figure.

  "Can you imagine anything being so slow," Remm said, "and still ..."Suddenly Macker interrupted. "Something is wrong. It is trying to getup, but it can't." The native was registering signs of distress, kickingits legs and twisting its body into new positions of contortion.

  "I see what the trouble is," Toolls said. "It's unable to lift theappendage with