Quest for the Well of Souls - Jack L. Chalker [54]
Quickly Renard jumped from the saddle onto his two thin goat legs and walked over to the Wuckl, which towered over him.
"Good day and service," he called to it in the manner he had learned was common to Wuckl. The language of Wuckl contained no gender, although the people had three.
The Wuckl stared curiously. "Good day to you as well," it replied, a little uncertainly. It glanced at Domaru, a little awed.
"I have traveled long and far in search of one who looks like this," Renard told it, pulling out a photograph of Mavra Chang that had been supplied by Ortega.
The Wuckl took it, looked at it, suddenly becoming very agitated. Renard understood that it was excited and upset, even though it appeared to be undergoing convulsions.
"What's the matter?" he asked, concerned. "Have seen her?"
"T—two such," Toug stammered. "About a ten-six day ago. I picked them up from when they hit the fence."
Renard was both excited and nervous. "They—they weren't killed, were they?"
The Wuckl's head made a circle, which meant no. "I took them to the gamekeeper." It seemed uncertain. "You mean they were—were not—not—animals?"
Renard was suddenly filled with foreboding. "No—people. Like you and me. Just a different form."
"Oh, my!" Toug managed an almost whispered exclamation. "You better come with me to the game-keeper pretty damn quick."
Renard took Domaru's reins and followed the anxious creature, not certain what the Wuckl's distress was all about, but feeling that whatever it was, it was bad.
Toug's reaction was as nothing compared to that of the gamekeeper, who, after it had heard the whole story, realized just what it had done.
"I didn't touch the brains," it told him, somewhat relieved. "If there was no permanent damage from the shock, then the conditioning would wear off in a few days—it's mostly to establish an animal routine or to change old habit patterns."
"Can it be reversed?" Renard asked, worried.
The gamekeeper thought about it. "More or less, yes. A thorough set of photographs or some good sketches, and, yes, I suppose so. Not exactly, though. I suppose it would be up to them."
Renard accepted that, and sympathized with the gamekeeper. It was a big world, and a complex one, and Wuckl was very isolated. The veterinarian still seemed beside itself with guilt. "I'm so sorry," it kept telling him. "I just didn't know."
Arrangements were made, and the gamekeeper called the preserve in the capital to prepare the way. It was then that he learned for the first time that his two specimens had escaped.
"It's to be expected, I suppose," the Wuckl sighed. "I should hardly like to be kept cooped up in such a place myself. Here! I'll give you a map that will get you to the preserve, and you can start out from there. A notice has already been placed about them in all the papers; the fact that they are sentient beings will have to be added in case they fall into the hands of another bumbler. But they will be found!"
Renard doubted it. "You haven't had much luck so far," he pointed out.
"But that was for two harmless animals," the gamekeeper retorted. "Now the search will be intense."
He nodded, still more confident of Mavra Chang's abilities than the well-meaning but unknowing Wuckl.
"If they're found, get word to Ambassador Ortega of Ulik at Zone," he instructed. "Then get them into the Gate as fast as you can."
These instructions were noted, and Renard took his leave of the strange creature. He still didn't understand how it was possible for the gamekeeper to have done so extensive a job with such limited facilities.
As he walked toward Domaru, a huge shadow fell over him. Suddenly nervous, his internal charge coming to the fore, he whirled and looked up. A Yaxa was descending almost on top of him.
Fully charged, he reached out his arm to ward off the expected attack, but the Yaxa flapped its wings, lifted a bit, and called, "Wait! Do not fear! For the moment we are not enemies!"
Renard hesitated,