James White - The Galactic Gourmet

“You are allowed to try, stranger,” it said. “But if, out of your greater knowledge and other-world experience, you cannot produce meat for us you will be wasting your time. That is our hope and the reason why I forced Tawsar to meet you in the first place. Instead of explaining our urgent need for meat, which is necessary for the survival of our species, he was ashamed and talked of other things and allowed your healers to do strange things to him.

“What do you want to do first, Gurronsevas?”

“I would like to begin,” he replied, “by talking to you about the Wem …”

“Yes, please,” said Murchison. “Apart from the physiological data, Prilicla says that you are getting more useful information from your friend in five minutes than we did from Tawsar in two hours.”“… About what you think of yourselves and your world,” he went on, ignoring yet another unexpected compliment, “as well as what you like to eat. Which objects, scenes and colors do you consider beautiful? Is the appearance of your food as important as its taste and odor? It has long been my belief that, in several important respects, a person’s behavior and level of culture is reflected by the food it eats and, of course, the civilized rituals and refinements practiced while cooking, presenting and eating it …”

“Stranger!” Remrath broke in. “You are becoming offensive, to myself and the Wem people. Are you suggesting that we are savages?”

“Gurronsevas, be careful, ” said Murchison urgently. “Dammit, are you trying to pick a fight?”

“That was not my intention,” he said, replying to both questioners. “I know that the Wem are close to starvation, and many of the rituals of eating require a sufficiency, if not a surplus, of the preferred foods. But where I come from eating rituals can be altered, either through necessity or to relieve the boredom of an unchanging diet.

“Despite my ignorance of Wem cooking,” Gurronsevas continued quickly, “I shall make suggestions on how this may be done. If these suggestions are offensive or unsuitable for any physical or psychological reason, tell me so at once without wasting time on politeness. But before you do so, let me test the foods that are available and debate the suggestion with you at length so that I as well as you will know why it is unworkable.

“To make these tests,” he went on, “I need your permission to take samples, very small quantities, of the vegetation and condiments that you use here. As well, I would be grateful if you could take me out to where these plants are harvested. Seeing them in their natural state, and gathering and testing other possibly edible growths in the vicinity, might suggest alternative meals or changes in the existing menu.”

“But it is meat that we need,” said Remrath firmly. “Have you a suggestion for providing that?”

“Only,” said Gurronsevas, suddenly impatient with the other’s culinary monomania, “if you were to eat one of us.”

“ Gurronsevas …! ” Murchison began.

“We would not eat you, Gurronsevas,” said Remrath, taking the suggestion literally. “With respect, your limbs and body appear hard and tough. You might taste like the branches of a tree. The shape-changer’s parts might cause indigestion by changing shape within us, and the limbs and body of the beautiful, winged creature are as fleshless as the twigs of a bush in winter. The soft being who balances on two legs and the one with the shining fur might be suitable. Are they soon to die?”

“No,” said Gurronsevas.

“Then you must not offer them to us,” said Remrath in a very serious voice, “The Wem believe that it is wrong to eat another intelligent being unless it dies naturally and free of disease, or its body is broken in an accident. You must not shorten another person’s life out of sympathy for our hunger, no matter how desperate our present need. I am grateful for the offer, but distressed and shocked that you would behave with such a lack of feeling towards your friends. Your gift of meat is refused.”

“I’m glad,” said Murchison.

“So am I,” said Gurronsevas, bypassing the translator, “I am tough only on the outside. But I seem to have talked myself into a corner …”

To Remrath, he said, “Please, there is no need for you to feel distressed or shocked because we hold the same belief. My words were ill-chosen and were a clumsy attempt at asking another question. Would the Wem accept off-planet food, provided it was palatable and we were sure that it would not harm you?”

“Off-planet meat?” Remrath asked hopefully.

“No,” he said, and this time his words were well-chosen as he explained that, while it was possible to give the food the taste and consistency of different other-worldly meats, the material was not and had never been alive. The reason for this was that when different meat-eating life-forms worked together as they did at Sector General and on the ship, it was considered insensitive to eat the flesh of non-intelligent creatures who often bore a close physical resemblance to their intelligent colleagues. He ended, “The food is artificial, but you could not tell the difference.”

Remrath replied with a sound that suggested disbelief. The long silence which followed was broken by it saying, “Regarding the tour of our vegetable gardens, I have duties here which allow me very little free time for walking in the valley. I have a class and I must prepare for the evening meal …”

Gurronsevas concealed his disappointment. He would have preferred to have Remrath as a guide and advisor on Wem plant life than to waste his own time pulling quantities of specimens — which the other would have known immediately to be toxic — and then having to wait on the results of Murchison’s analyses. Politely, he said, “What are you serving this evening?”

“More of the same,” said Remrath shortly. It raised one hand stiffly to point toward the outer room and went on, “But we will be able to make the necessary time, Gurronsevas, if you bring in and break up the firewood, and help me wash the vegetables.”

Remrath’s movements over the rough ground of the valley floor were slower than Tawsar’s had been and clearly caused it more pain, and it steadfastly refused to enter any area that was lit by the early afternoon sun. Both problems were solved by Naydrad, who joined them with the anti-gravity litter and deployed its sunscreen over the initially reluctant passenger. The Charge Nurse had been instructed to guide the litter and to leave all the conversation to Gurronsevas, and the agitated state of its fur showed what it thought of the enforced silence. Danalta, whose job as protector had been declared redundant, had rejoined Prilicla and Murchison on Rhabwar to help process the Wem physiological data provided by Tawsar.

The forenoon and early afternoon classes, held in the big cavern so as to keep the pupils out of the direct sunlight while taking advantage of the maximum natural illumination from the windows, had left the mine to work outdoors again, and Remrath seemed to have forgotten the time limit it had placed on the specimen-gathering exercise. Plainly it was enjoying the comfort of traveling on the litter and it was deriving even more amusement from the strange things Gurronsevas was saying and doing.

“Surely,” it said during one of their stops on the higher, uncultivated slopes, “you do not eat flowers on your world?”

“Sometimes,” said Gurronsevas, “the stems or leaves or petals can be crushed or cooked and used to complement or contrast with the other ingredients, or arranged on the platter so as to make a meal look attractive, or simply to decorate and give a pleasing appearance and smell to the dinner table. Sometimes we eat them.”