symmetry that reminded Alander of a Rorschach blob. The line of symmetry gave the face a protonose; on either side were blobs that might have been eyes, nostrils, and ears, while a line that stretched from one side to the other could have been a mouth. It was impossible to be certain. For all he knew, the alien could have been wearing a helmet.
“He’s an odd-looking fellow, don’t you think?” said Axford. “I ran him through the gifts when I picked him up, but there’s only so much you can tell without invasive surgery. We’ll have to wait for him to die before we can do that, I guess.”
Alander caught Hatzis’s look of disgust at Axford’s comment, but she didn’t say anything. She was probably as much in awe of what she was seeing as Alander and wouldn’t spoil it by arguing with Axford.
“His biology is very complicated,” Frank the Ax was saying. “Some of it might even be enhanced by nanotech or implants. He has analogs of cells and DNA and blood and stuff, but it’s all slightly skewed. His genes have six bases, for instance, and his blood is sort of yellow.”
“Do the Gifts recognize his species?” Alander asked.
“No, they don’t,” he said, frowning. “And I find that a bit odd, actually. Either the Spinners deliberately kept him and his kind out of the library, or the Roaches themselves wanted to be kept out of it for some reason. For all we know, he could be a renegade Spinner stealing back some of the booty.”
Alander nodded thoughtfully. It was an interesting suggestion. If there were factions within the Spinner race, then maybe they weren’t as all-powerful and mysterious as once thought. In fact, they might be no different than humans.
“Where are you keeping him?” asked Hatzis.
“In the hole ship. The Mercury has set up an isolated environment for him, based on what we picked up in the surgery, and is keeping him relatively safe. It’s not perfect, but the I-suit is doing the rest. For now, anyway. I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to last. I think he might be in a coma.”
“You keep saying ‘he,’ “ interrupted Hatzis. “You’re sure that’s its gender?”
“Take a look for yourself.”
A series of anatomical images flashed against the darkness behind the alien, settling after a few seconds on a close-up of the creature’s genital area.
“ Two ... ? ” Hatzis was clearly as amazed as Alander.
“Like snakes,” said Axford. “Whoever these guys are, they take symmetry to the extreme.”
“What about communicating with him?” Alander asked.
“I tried,” he said, nodding to the image display. “See what you can make of it.”
More footage appeared. In it, the alien was awake and active, restrained in a small room. It was pacing backward and forward, its legs moving with a disturbingly jerky gait that left no doubt in Alander’s mind that it wasn’t human. A person in a suit pretending to be an alien couldn’t move like that, he told himself.
It was clearly agitated. The wing sheaths growing from its back flexed and snapped. This, combined with its long, angular legs and relatively short arms, reminded Alander of a giant grasshopper. But the creature was clearly warm-blooded, and it lacked the carapace, compound eyes, and mandibles of an insect.
Its face was the most startling thing. Transformed from a lifeless biscuit barrel, it was almost unnaturally mobile. Muscles under the skin flexed the patterns of pigmentation into new shapes, breaking the symmetry then re-forming it with unnerving speed. Its eyes, opened, revealed glassy orbs with internal lenses that constantly changed position, like the inside of an antique camera. Its mouth was the slit he’d identified earlier, but it wasn’t that of a lifeless dummy. It was extraordinarily mobile, opening and shutting in shapes that had no parallel on a human face. Behind narrow lips Alander glimpsed a yellowish tongue and two rows of protrusions that might have been teeth. And its
“He’s an odd-looking fellow, don’t you think?” said Axford. “I ran him through the gifts when I picked him up, but there’s only so much you can tell without invasive surgery. We’ll have to wait for him to die before we can do that, I guess.”
Alander caught Hatzis’s look of disgust at Axford’s comment, but she didn’t say anything. She was probably as much in awe of what she was seeing as Alander and wouldn’t spoil it by arguing with Axford.
“His biology is very complicated,” Frank the Ax was saying. “Some of it might even be enhanced by nanotech or implants. He has analogs of cells and DNA and blood and stuff, but it’s all slightly skewed. His genes have six bases, for instance, and his blood is sort of yellow.”
“Do the Gifts recognize his species?” Alander asked.
“No, they don’t,” he said, frowning. “And I find that a bit odd, actually. Either the Spinners deliberately kept him and his kind out of the library, or the Roaches themselves wanted to be kept out of it for some reason. For all we know, he could be a renegade Spinner stealing back some of the booty.”
Alander nodded thoughtfully. It was an interesting suggestion. If there were factions within the Spinner race, then maybe they weren’t as all-powerful and mysterious as once thought. In fact, they might be no different than humans.
“Where are you keeping him?” asked Hatzis.
“In the hole ship. The Mercury has set up an isolated environment for him, based on what we picked up in the surgery, and is keeping him relatively safe. It’s not perfect, but the I-suit is doing the rest. For now, anyway. I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to last. I think he might be in a coma.”
“You keep saying ‘he,’ “ interrupted Hatzis. “You’re sure that’s its gender?”
“Take a look for yourself.”
A series of anatomical images flashed against the darkness behind the alien, settling after a few seconds on a close-up of the creature’s genital area.
“ Two ... ? ” Hatzis was clearly as amazed as Alander.
“Like snakes,” said Axford. “Whoever these guys are, they take symmetry to the extreme.”
“What about communicating with him?” Alander asked.
“I tried,” he said, nodding to the image display. “See what you can make of it.”
More footage appeared. In it, the alien was awake and active, restrained in a small room. It was pacing backward and forward, its legs moving with a disturbingly jerky gait that left no doubt in Alander’s mind that it wasn’t human. A person in a suit pretending to be an alien couldn’t move like that, he told himself.
It was clearly agitated. The wing sheaths growing from its back flexed and snapped. This, combined with its long, angular legs and relatively short arms, reminded Alander of a giant grasshopper. But the creature was clearly warm-blooded, and it lacked the carapace, compound eyes, and mandibles of an insect.
Its face was the most startling thing. Transformed from a lifeless biscuit barrel, it was almost unnaturally mobile. Muscles under the skin flexed the patterns of pigmentation into new shapes, breaking the symmetry then re-forming it with unnerving speed. Its eyes, opened, revealed glassy orbs with internal lenses that constantly changed position, like the inside of an antique camera. Its mouth was the slit he’d identified earlier, but it wasn’t that of a lifeless dummy. It was extraordinarily mobile, opening and shutting in shapes that had no parallel on a human face. Behind narrow lips Alander glimpsed a yellowish tongue and two rows of protrusions that might have been teeth. And its
Similar Books
