The present prospect was difficult. The initial survey showed a species of warm-bodied, four-limbed, nontelepathic, two-sexed creatures who were unusually aggressive. This local species (there was the slightest pause as the program allowed Hauser to fill in the blank with “the humans” because the No’ui name would have made no sense to him) was advancing rapidly across its native planet of “Earth” and was developing increasingly sophisticated tools. It was judged that this species of humans would achieve interplanetary travel within fifty thousand years. However, the prospect for them to become successful traders on the galactic scale was only one in three, even with seeding.
Hauser whistled in his helmet. One in three! That meant that the No’ui believed that mankind was twice as likely to fail as to succeed, by No’ui standards. Double or nothing!
But the human species had made it here, and now Hauser was finding out what the nature of this alien construction was. That was two steps out of three, as he understood it. So maybe the odds were evening, or even turning positive.
This is the No’ui, the presentation continued. A picture of a giant ant appeared, confirming Hauser’s guess. The No’ui were six-limbed, warm-bodied, semi-telepathic, two-sexed creatures, which made them virtual clones of the human species, by galactic standards. Anticipating a question here, the mental narrator paused to flash a picture of a more distant type of species.
It was like a fire-breathing jellyfish with lobster pincers. But it was its mental nature that really set it apart. It seemed to orient on Hauser—and his stomach roiled, his breathing became gasping, his heart skipped several beats and pondered before resuming something approaching a regular schedule, and his mind felt as if it were being stretched sideways and folded in on itself. He hastily agreed: the No’ui were near-clones!
Now the presentation oriented on the actual work being done on the monstrous structure. No’ui were walking on the walks, and sure enough, their feet clung firmly to the rough surfaces, so that they moved upright, vertically and upside down with similar facility. Actually, they needed only three or four limbs for walking; two or three were used for other purposes. Some guided floating objects to their assigned places, while others used complex tools to do indecipherable things. The place was like an anthill, unsurprisingly, with constant traffic along the paths, yet no collisions. Were they all one-way paths? No; when two individuals met, one would slide around and walk on the underside of the strip until the top was clear again. Because they were semi-telepathic, they were in constant communication with each other, and were never surprised by encounters.
The view closed on one particular No’ui. This was—a pause to apply a suitable designation from the mind of the recipient—Q’ad, a specialist in the demolition of temporary structures that were no longer required, so that their elements could be used in new structures. Q’ad used a device that powdered metal or stone, and the powder was then sucked up and stored. Q’ad was male, and strongly proportioned. He was expert at his specialty, though he had not had it long.
Hauser paused here to reflect. It was evident that this presentation was being heavily edited to relate to concepts he understood. The No’ui had studied the human species two million—no, it must have been more like fifty thousand years ago, because it was modern man, not an apelike man, who had spread across the globe and used increasingly sophisticated tools. It had been just a guess about the age of this complex; evidently no one had used any sophisticated dating methods, or announced the results if they had. At any rate, the No’ui had studied man, and known his nature, and set this up to relate to that. But much of the detail was sheer spot adaptation. For example, the name provided was Q’ad, not alien, so that he could relate comfortably to it; it was an alienized variant of his name. How could the ancient aliens have known that a man named Douglas Quaid Hauser would come to receive this presentation? The answer was that they couldn’t have known, but had left a telepathic (or semi-telepathic—he wasn’t clear on the difference, but after seeing the non-clone alien he didn’t care to explore that further) computer program to indoctrinate the subject in the most expedient manner. That spoke volumes for the sophistication of the No’ui!
And they were only the local seeders, in a galaxy full of traders! Just a typical species doing a minor job before moving on to the next system requiring seeding. How could the human species even compete? Yet the No’ui thought it could, if it managed to qualify. Were the No’ui still around? Quite possibly they were, elsewhere in the galaxy, for they took the long view.
Hauser felt excitement and awe. He wanted to meet the No’ui! He knew he never would, for they might be fifty thousand light-years away now. But this message was almost as good. He suppressed his thoughts and tuned in again.
Q’ad was not on duty as a duster at the moment. He was with M’la, his ad hoc mate, as they carried their egg to the hive nursery for hatching. They had seen in each other the possibility for superior breeding, so had done it. Now they were about to discover the proof of their effort.
The egg was about a quarter M’la’s mass; she had lost working time generating it, but this was acceptable. Good new workers were always needed. They took turns carrying it. If their hatchling passed muster, it would be a vindication for both.
The hive nursery was deep under the construction site, in the most projected region. It was a job carrying the heavy egg down the vertical path; their foot-grippers tried to pull loose, and they had to use all six limbs to hold on, gluing the egg to one of their backs. Finally they had to march in tandem, each supporting an end of the egg casing. Q’ad went first, carrying the front end glued to his hind section, while M’la followed, the rear of the casing glued to her head between her antennae.
By the time they reached the bottom, both were exhausted, but the egg was safe. It was now close to hatching; the movement affected it, and the increased atmospheric pressure of the depths.
They brought the egg to the queen of the nursery. She touched it with her antennae, and read the stirring mind within. It is time, she agreed. Because their kind was not fully telepathic, they were required to formulate specific thoughts for projection; fully telepathic species had complete understanding without having to do that.
We wish to witness, Q’ad thought.
She paused, about to lift the egg. You are aware that the chance of a hatchling in this region qualifying is only one in three?
Yes, they agreed together. The radiation here caused a severe incidence of uncontrolled mutation, and until they established an atmospheric shield they were confined to the depths, and even so their eggs were likely to be damaged. Q’ad had bred once before, with L’ri, and the egg had failed and been destroyed, its elements salvaged for food. But the auspices seemed better with M’la.
Hauser paused again, interrupting the presentation with his active thinking. L’ri? That hadn’t happened yet! Which meant that even this memory of the experience was being modified, to attune to those names and events that related best to his present awareness. For the original Hauser the name should have been different. The alien program remained in his mind, still operating in its special way. The memory implantation technique of the No’ui compared to the Rekall method as a three-dimensional hologram compared to a little flat TV screen. He was awed.