"That is bold!” exclaimed Flavion.
"It will obviously require contacting our cohorts, and bringing us together, somewhere."
"All, all the rebel bands?” said Flavion.
"Yes,” said Lord Grendel.
"I know a place,” said Flavion.
"Excellent,” said Lord Grendel. “We shall rely upon you."
"Dear Cabot,” said Peisistratus. “It seems you have lost something."
"Yes,” said Cabot, reaching toward his throat, which was bare. “It seems I have lost the ring, which I wore about my neck."
"It was of gold, was it not?” said Statius.
"I believe so,” said Cabot.
"A grievous loss,” said Peisistratus.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
* * * *
It had been three days after Cabot and Lord Grendel had visited some of the abandoned camps of the survivors of the fleet's disaster, those who had returned to the world.
And it was two days before their return to their own camp, the return briefly remarked on hitherto.
They had been fired on, twice, by Kur patrols, but had managed to elude them, once by taking refuge within a shambling herd of cattle humans, and once by slipping into an area within which it was unlikely, in any event, that power weapons would be employed. The latter area was one of the womb tunnels.
Too, to be fully honest, the attention of the patrols had not been zealous.
Charges are precious, and, at the distances involved, would be unlikely of much efficacy. Too, at the distance, it was not clear that the targets might not be no more than a Kur and its pet, or even a nondominant, followed by a scavenging human.
Had they realized the nature of the targets a pursuit would have doubtless been pressed with earnestness.
Before they had been detected the second time, Cabot had come upon the body of a Kur, muchly mutilated.
It was, seemingly, that of a neutral. In any event it bore no purple scarf, though, to be sure, such an emblem might have been removed, for one purpose or another, perhaps even to serve as a trophy.
"Butchery,” had said Cabot.
"Killer humans,” had said Lord Grendel.
Killer humans, as it might be recalled, were bred by Kurii for arena sports, and bred for energy, agility, and aggression. Some were speeched, others not. There were several such groups. Some had joined themselves to the rebels. Other groups were rogue groups, wandering about, a danger to anything in their path, even to one another. They did tend to hate Kurii, and their easily initiated murderous rages often targeted isolated Kurii, whom they would swarm upon, regardless of their own safety, and destroy as they could. They were no more concerned with their own survival than might have been a cloud of varts descending on an isolated tabuk or verr.
At that moment a burst of flame erupted in the grass near them, and Cabot and Grendel quickly slipped away, amongst rocks.
Some of the rocks seemed to splinter and burst apart, showering particles about.
"Hurry,” said Lord Grendel.
"I cannot even locate the source of fire,” said Cabot.
"It is far away,” said Grendel.
Cabot continued to follow his friend amongst the rocks. “They have stopped firing,” said Cabot.
"In here,” said Grendel, and Cabot lowered his head, and entered what, from the outside, seemed no more than a lair, or the opening to a small cave.
"We are safe in here,” said Lord Grendel. “Reasonably safe."
"Reasonably?"
"We will spend the night here,” said Grendel. “But deeper inside."
"What manner of place is this?” said Cabot.
"Follow me,” said Grendel.
"It opens into a tunnel, shaped, smoothed,” said Cabot, wonderingly, “and there are lights, soft lights."
"They are mainly for warmth,” said Grendel.
"Ai!” said Cabot. “I have touched something!"
It seemed to recoil from his touch. It was large, and hot, and haired. It seemed to adhere to the side of the wall.
"Kur females seldom conceive,” said Grendel. “That is one reason their seeding is so important to them. When they have conceived they will come to a place such as this and deposit the tiny, fertilized ovoid."
"An egg?” said Cabot.
"If you like,” said Grendel.
"These are wombs,” said Cabot.
"In a sense, our third sex,” said Grendel, “the third of four, if we count the nondominants as an independent sex."
"Are they not males?"
"It is a matter of definition,” said Lord Grendel.
They continued to traverse the tunnel, and encountered more of the growths adhering to the walls.
"Be careful where you step,” said Grendel.
A small creature, urtlike, scampered past, yet Cabot suspected it was not the presence of such small denizens of the tunnel with which Lord Grendel was most concerned.
"Many humans,” said Lord Grendel, “particularly at first, have difficulty telling the Kur male from the Kur female. Did you know that?"
"Oh?” said Cabot, who himself, to be perfectly honest, was still, at least occasionally, afflicted with uncertainty in the matter.
"Unlike the human female,” said Lord Grendel, “the Kur female, unless a throwback, an atavism, is narrow-hipped and breastless. The functions of gestation and nursing take place in the wombs."
"Milk?” asked Cabot.
"Blood,” said Lord Grendel.
"How does the Kur female know her own offspring?” asked Cabot.
"She is seldom concerned,” said Grendel, “no more than her seeder. Both contribute offspring to the folk. That is all that matters. To be sure, amongst the higher Kurii, the lords, and such, some attention is given to womb brothers, emergents from the same womb, and, more particularly, to egg brothers, namely, offspring who share at least one parent."
"They are then brothers?"
"Probably not in the full sense in which you think of brothers, being raised together, and such, but the distinction is of genetic interest, and is often regarded as germane to desiderated bloodlines. To be sure, occasionally, a confederacy of sorts is formed amongst such brothers, in pursuit of a common concern, but that tends to be frowned upon, and is supposedly rare."
"Supposedly?” said Cabot.
"It is my suspicion that it is more common than is usually suspected,” said Lord Grendel.
Cabot, softly, placed his hand on one of the wombs, which was warm, and pulsated.
The hair had an oily feel.
"Does the womb feel?” asked Cabot.
"We do not think so,” said Grendel, “but it does have some irritability, for example, writhing and recoiling at the emergence."
"Emergence?"
"Something like birth."
"Birth?"
"The young one, you might say the baby, or child, when ready, tears its way out of the womb. It is bloody. Here and there you can see blood on the floor. The blood attracts the scavengers, who come to feed on it. And they are usually the infant's first kill."
"I see,” said Cabot.
"The Kur, you see, is superior to the human,” said Lord Grendel, “for the human is usually quite helpless at birth, and for some time afterward."
"It must cause great pain to the womb,” said Cabot.
"We do not know,” said Lord Grendel. “In any event the womb has no vocal apparatus."
"How are wombs reproduced?” asked Cabot.
"They bud,” said Grendel. “Parthenogenesis."
"How did this begin?” asked Cabot.
"We do not know,” said Lord Grendel. “It was long ago. One supposes some sort of biological engineering was involved, something intended to free the Kur female from some of procreation's more grievous burdens."
"How do the wombs live?” asked Cabot.
"They are alive,” said Lord Grendel. “They have an orifice. They are fed meat, and given fluid. Yes, there are teeth, and fangs, within the orifice. Do not place your hand into one. Excretion is emitted through the same orifice, it serving for both purposes, and the waste products are exuded onto the body. Perhaps you have noted the oiliness of the pelt."