eyes peering about cautiously in the half-light. His nose wrinkled in a very human way and he picked up the meat and threw it outside. Then he walked back to the shelf and looked at the knife. He stood there for a long time, a naked old man staring at a gift that must have seemed very strange to him, a gift that had been made light-years away.
Then he picked up the knife. He held it awkwardly, between his thumb and forefinger, as a man might hold a dead fish by the tail. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it. He got a better grip on the handle and gingerly touched the cutting edge with the fingers of his other hand. He muttered something to himself that the mike didn’t catch, then frowned.
He walked over to the curving wall and stuck the point of the knife into the wood. He yanked it out again, looked at it, and then shaved a sliver of wood from the wall with the cutting edge. His action left a single raw scar in the polished smoothness of the room.
“Merc kuprai,” he said distinctly. It was the first time Monte had ever heard the man speak; his voice was low and pleasant.
“Charlie said that mere was a kind of polysynthetic word,” he whispered to Louise. “It means something like: It is a — . So he’s saying that the knife is a kuprai, whatever that is.”
“Whatever it is,” Louise said, “it must not be very impressive.”
The naked man shook his head sadly and tossed the knife back up on the shelf. He did not look at it again. He yawned a little, stretched, and walked out of the chamber. The scanner still caught his back, just beyond the entrance to the tree. He sat down in a small patch of sunlight and promptly went to sleep.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Monte said.
Louise shrugged, her brown eyes twinkling. “Merc kuprai,” she said.
“You, dear, can go to the devil.”
She gave him a quick, warm kiss. “You seem to be oriented toward the nether regions today. Look up! Have faith! Remember that every day in every way—”
“Cut it out, Lise,” he grinned.
That was when Ralph Gottschalk came lumbering in like an amiable gorilla. His face was flushed and he was smiling from ear to ear. Since Ralph was hardly the type to get excited over nothing, Monte decided that he must have found not only the missing link but quite possibly the whole chain.
“Monte, we’ve got one!”
“Swell. One what?”
“Confound it, man, a burial! We’ve got us a skeleton.”
The man’s excitement was contagious, but Monte held a tight rein on himself. It wouldn’t do to go off half-cocked. “Where? You haven’t touched it, have you?”
“Of course not! Do I look like a sap? But you’ve got to see it! Don and I just found it about an hour ago—it’s not a quarter of a mile from camp. The son of a gun is up in a tree!”
“Are you sure of what it is?”
“Of course I’m sure—I climbed up and looked. The bones are in a kind of a nest up there—-a regular flexed tree burial. Man, you ought to see the ulna on that thing! And I’ll tell you this—that mandible may be heavy, but there’s plenty of room for a brain inside that skull. In fact—”
“Anything in that nest except bones?”
“Nothing at all. No pots, no pans, no spears, no nothing. Just bones. But you give me an hour with those bones where I can really see ’em and I’ll be able to tell you something for sure about these people!”
Louise touched his arm. “Come on, Monte! Let’s go.”
“I’d better have a look,” Monte agreed. “Lead the way, Ralph.”
Ralph charged off, stiff mumbling to himself. He ploughed through the scattered tents of the camp, crossed the clearing, and plunged into a stand of trees at an impatient trot. Monte was amazed at the big man’s agility; the tug of the gravity and the enervating effects of the damp heat did not combine to make a sprint through the forest his idea of a swell time. Louise seemed to be taking it well enough, however, so he couldn’t afford to say anything about
Then he picked up the knife. He held it awkwardly, between his thumb and forefinger, as a man might hold a dead fish by the tail. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it. He got a better grip on the handle and gingerly touched the cutting edge with the fingers of his other hand. He muttered something to himself that the mike didn’t catch, then frowned.
He walked over to the curving wall and stuck the point of the knife into the wood. He yanked it out again, looked at it, and then shaved a sliver of wood from the wall with the cutting edge. His action left a single raw scar in the polished smoothness of the room.
“Merc kuprai,” he said distinctly. It was the first time Monte had ever heard the man speak; his voice was low and pleasant.
“Charlie said that mere was a kind of polysynthetic word,” he whispered to Louise. “It means something like: It is a — . So he’s saying that the knife is a kuprai, whatever that is.”
“Whatever it is,” Louise said, “it must not be very impressive.”
The naked man shook his head sadly and tossed the knife back up on the shelf. He did not look at it again. He yawned a little, stretched, and walked out of the chamber. The scanner still caught his back, just beyond the entrance to the tree. He sat down in a small patch of sunlight and promptly went to sleep.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Monte said.
Louise shrugged, her brown eyes twinkling. “Merc kuprai,” she said.
“You, dear, can go to the devil.”
She gave him a quick, warm kiss. “You seem to be oriented toward the nether regions today. Look up! Have faith! Remember that every day in every way—”
“Cut it out, Lise,” he grinned.
That was when Ralph Gottschalk came lumbering in like an amiable gorilla. His face was flushed and he was smiling from ear to ear. Since Ralph was hardly the type to get excited over nothing, Monte decided that he must have found not only the missing link but quite possibly the whole chain.
“Monte, we’ve got one!”
“Swell. One what?”
“Confound it, man, a burial! We’ve got us a skeleton.”
The man’s excitement was contagious, but Monte held a tight rein on himself. It wouldn’t do to go off half-cocked. “Where? You haven’t touched it, have you?”
“Of course not! Do I look like a sap? But you’ve got to see it! Don and I just found it about an hour ago—it’s not a quarter of a mile from camp. The son of a gun is up in a tree!”
“Are you sure of what it is?”
“Of course I’m sure—I climbed up and looked. The bones are in a kind of a nest up there—-a regular flexed tree burial. Man, you ought to see the ulna on that thing! And I’ll tell you this—that mandible may be heavy, but there’s plenty of room for a brain inside that skull. In fact—”
“Anything in that nest except bones?”
“Nothing at all. No pots, no pans, no spears, no nothing. Just bones. But you give me an hour with those bones where I can really see ’em and I’ll be able to tell you something for sure about these people!”
Louise touched his arm. “Come on, Monte! Let’s go.”
“I’d better have a look,” Monte agreed. “Lead the way, Ralph.”
Ralph charged off, stiff mumbling to himself. He ploughed through the scattered tents of the camp, crossed the clearing, and plunged into a stand of trees at an impatient trot. Monte was amazed at the big man’s agility; the tug of the gravity and the enervating effects of the damp heat did not combine to make a sprint through the forest his idea of a swell time. Louise seemed to be taking it well enough, however, so he couldn’t afford to say anything about
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