In short order, the answer came back. Unless the computer was mistaken, only one male bearing that name had belonged to the conquest fleet, and he had been killed in the early days of the invasion. Kassquit checked the records for the colonization fleet. They showed two Regeyas. One had been a bureaucrat aboard a ship destroyed in the attack on the fleet. The other, a graphic designer, was newly revived. Kassquit checked past messages in the discussion section. Regeya, whoever he was, had sent messages while the graphic designer remained in cold sleep.
“That is very strange,” Kassquit said, a considerable understatement. She wondered what to do next.
While she was wondering, a message from Regeya-from the mysterious Regeya, she thought-reached her. Tosevites are strange creatures, but not so bad once you get to know them, he wrote, and then, I write with my fingerclaws, the same as everybody else.
Kassquit would have forgiven him a good deal for his kind words about Big Uglies. He, of course, whoever he was, could have no way of knowing she’d been hatched (no, born: a thoroughly disgusting process) one herself. And she liked his strange slant on the world. But he was not who and what he pretended to be. Such deceptions, she had gathered, were common among the Tosevites, but rarely practiced by members of the Race.
What does a senior tube technician do? she wrote, hoping that in answering he would betray himself.
But his reply was altogether matter-of-fact: I tell intermediate and junior tube technicians what to do. What would you expect?
She stared at the screen. Her mouth fell open. That was laughter in the style of the Race. In the privacy of her chamber, she also laughed aloud, as Big Uglies did. Whoever this Regeya was, he had both wit and nerve.
But who was he? Why was he using a name not his own? She could find no good reason. Nothing in the discussions in which he took part could gain him any profit, only, at most, a little information. Unable to solve the problem herself, she mentioned it to Ttomalss the next time they spoke.
“I can think of two possibilities,” the senior researcher said. “One is that he is indeed a male of the Race using a false name for deceptive purposes of his own. The other is that he is a Tosevite who has partially penetrated our computer system.”
“A Tosevite!” Kassquit exclaimed. That had not occurred to her-nor would it have. “Could a Big Ugly seem like a male of the Race in discussion groups and electronic messages?”
“Why not?” Ttomalss asked. “You certainly seem like a female of the Race whenever your physiognomy is not visible.”
“But that is different,” Kassquit said. “This Regeya, by your hypothesis, would be a wild Big Ugly, not one civilized from birth, as I have been.” She heard the pride in her voice.
“We have been studying the Tosevites since our arrival here,” Ttomalss said. “Indeed, thanks to our probe, we studied them before we arrived here-although, as events proved, not well enough. And they have been studying us, too. Some of them, I suppose, will have learned a good deal about us by now.”
“Learned enough to imitate us that well?” Kassquit had trouble believing it. She’d not only taken this Regeya for a male of the Race, she’d taken him for a clever one. He had an unusual way of looking at the world, one that made her see things in a new light. But perhaps that sprang not from cleverness but from an alienness he couldn’t fully conceal. She said as much to Ttomalss.
“It could be so,” he answered. “I will not say that it is, but it could be. I fear you will have to conduct that investigation for yourself. I am too occupied with matters here to lend you much assistance. Felless will soon be laying her pair of eggs-she stubbornly refuses to leave Deutschland, despite possible health hazards-and will not be able to do as much work as usual for a little while before she finally does. That means I will have to do some of hers as well as my own.”
“Very well, superior sir,” Kassquit said coolly. To her, Felless remained an unscratchable itch deep under the scales she did not have. “I shall attempt to draw out this Regeya, whoever and whatever he may be, and to see exactly what information he is seeking. Armed with that knowledge, I may be able to convince the authorities to take me seriously.”
“I approve of this course,” Ttomalss said, and broke the connection. Kassquit wasn’t sure she approved of it. Being a Tosevite, would she be able to convince the authorities to take her seriously no matter what she did? She was not looking forward to the experiment, but saw no alternative.
Meanwhile, she had the chance to converse with Regeya and monitor his messages to learn what interested him. He knew where he wanted to sink his claws, that was plain: he aimed to learn all he could about whatever the Race knew of the American space station. That puzzled Kassquit. If he was a Big Ugly himself, why wouldn’t he know such things?
Her first assumption had been that, if he was a Tosevite, he was an American-how else would he know so much about the United States? Then she began to wonder. She supposed the Big Uglies spied on one another as well as on the Race. Was Regeya from the Reich or the SSSR, seeking what the Race knew about a rival?
She couldn’t ask him that, not in so many words. She did ask, How and why do you know so much about these particular Big Uglies?
In due course, Regeya answered, I have followed their doings since they freed me after the fighting stopped. The Race and the Big Uglies will be sharing this planet for a long time. Sooner or later, Tosevites will travel to other worlds of the Empire, as Rabotevs and Hallessi will come here. We and the Big Uglies had better get to know each other, do you not think? After the interrogative character, he used the Race’s conventional symbol for an emphatic cough.
Kassquit studied that. No matter who-or what sort of being-had written it, it made good sense. Truth, she replied.
Some in the discussion group reported that the Americans were again increasing the number of shipments up to their station. No one can tell what they are shipping, though, the male who sent the message said. Whatever it is, it stays crated until inside the station. This is inefficient even by Tosevite standards.
What are the Big Uglies hiding? Regeya asked on noting that message.
If they were not hiding it, we would know, the male who had sent the earlier message replied. Kassquit laughed to see that. The message continued, Whatever it is, we know enough always to keep an eye turret on that station.
A good thing, too, Regeya replied.
Kassquit made a small, exasperated sound. Would an American Big Ugly have said such a thing? Would any Big Ugly have said such a thing? Didn’t the Big Uglies know enough to show solidarity against the Race, as the Race showed solidarity against them? She knew the Big Uglies did not show solidarity among themselves, but still…
Finally, curiosity got the better of her. Are you a Tosevite? she sent to Regeya.
If he was, she thought that had a decent chance of scaring him out of the Race’s computer network. But she did not have to wait long for his reply. Of course I am, he answered. Just as much as you are.
She stared at that. Her heart fluttered. Did Regeya, could Regeya, know who and what she was? He would have to have excellent connections indeed to gain even a hint of that. And Kassquit, unlike Regeya, was a fairly common name. Or was he just making a joke? She had gathered he was fond of joking.