Mosaic - Jeri Taylor [54]
Trakis was hopeful he had managed to disconnect the internal sac of fluid from the ventral orifice through which it was projected, and seal it shut. He had no desire to test fate again by being anywhere near this creature when it was in a vengeful mood.
Nimmet was watching him, eyes slitted in that ridiculous expression of his. Could he possibly think he looked threatening with his face screwed up like that? Could he be so deluded? Trakis sighed inwardly, remembering the years of his young adulthood on Trabus, when graciousness and civility were the order of the day, when life moved in measured cadences like a well-structured symphony. All that had been lost in the Kazon uprising, of course, but Trakis held to the hope that his people would someday regain their lovely existence, unhindered by the barbarous Kazon, who with any good fortune would eventually kill each other off.
"Well?" said Nimmet, and Trakis wished he could come up with a more inventive opening question.
"I think I've provided a detailed report of the captive's anatomy and physiology, so far as I can tell. What more do you want?"
"I want to know what Maje Dut will want to know: Can this species help us to greatness?"
Trakis resisted a grimace at the inflated language. Nimmet spoke like an overheated orator, mouthing proclamations instead of simply communicating. It was, he ruminated, the mark of the ignorant and the unschooled, who hoped to convince others that they were more intellectually advanced than they really were.
"Exactly what is it that would help you to achieve this greatness?" he asked dryly.
"You know very well!" Nimmet all but shouted. He had low frustration tolerance, Trakis knew, as Nimmet took a breath and continued loudly, face turning a deep crimson in his indignation. "We must know if they can be used as weapons! We must know if they can be trained! We must know if they can communicate and if not what stimuli they will respond to! There are a wealth of questions that must be answered."
Trakis waited for a moment until Nimmet's face had returned to its normal color. He had believed for a moment that he might have to administer to a cardiovascular attack, but Nimmet seemed to have regained control. Trakis proceeded calmly, speaking even more softly in contrast to Nimmet's overblown outburst. "I'm sure you know I can't possibly provide those answers on the basis of a physical examination. And it's not likely this prisoner is going to cooperate long enough to allow me to investigate further." Trakis eyed the captive uneasily; his eyes were beginning to stay open for seconds at a time and he had begun to stir restlessly on the table. "Narcotize him again. Do it until you have the information we need."
"I don't know if he'll survive another injection. The drug is a powerful one and he's already had more than I think is wise."
"No one cares if it's wise-we only care that we get answers." Trakis looked down at the captive once more. Now his eyes were fully open, and he stared dully upward, huge compound eyes protected behind a transparent sclera. Trakis watched carefully for any indication that he was tensing his body-that had signaled the last attack-but he seemed dulled by the drug (and possibly by pain) and lay there limply. The physician felt a twinge of sympathy for what he was enduring, and he made no effort to prepare the narcotic.
Nimmet took a menacing step forward. "The Maje expects answers, Trabe. Need I remind you what will happen if he doesn't get them?" Trakis knew that was an unveiled threat to his family, still at the outpost on Slngsnd. And it was not an empty threat, as all Trabe well knew. The Kazon enjoyed retribu tion against their former masters, and frequently used threats against vulnerable family members to insure cooperation from the scientists, physicians, and engineers that they needed so desperately.
Trakis turned to the equipment