Cabot drew back his hand.
"The metabolism is very slow,” said Grendel, “and the wombs are often metabolically dormant for weeks at a time. Periodically, the pelt is wiped clean and sanitized, and always when an emergence is imminent."
They continued to tread the tunnel, and the wombs became more frequent. Some moved, as what was within them stirred.
"Be careful where you step!” said Lord Grendel.
Cabot moved a bit to the side, to avoid stepping on what he took to be something dropped in the tunnel, a wad of cloth, a crumpled rag, a lump of tissue.
"What is it?” asked Cabot.
"An infant,” said Grendel. “Probably waiting for a scavenger."
"Is it alive?"
"Certainly."
"It is not moving."
"I would not put my hand on it, unless you want to lose a finger,” said Lord Grendel. “Just avoid it. These things are picked up, periodically, with gloves, or tongs, and boxed, for conveying to the nurseries."
They had not moved more than three or four yards when there was a sudden, frightened squeal, and Cabot spun about, to see a flurry of fur and teeth behind him. Then the mound was still, save for the sound of feeding.
"A scavenger came too close,” said Lord Grendel.
It was some minutes further in the tunnel, when Cabot stopped, and stared at one of the wombs, for it seemed to shudder, and heave.
"Smell it,” said Lord Grendel.
"Disinfectant, alcohol?” said Cabot.
"There is going to be an emergence,” said Grendel. “Step back. Do not approach it closely, for you might be soiled."
The living thing adhering to the wall, large, and bulging, haired, began to shudder and writhe. Cabot saw its outer side, at one point, project, and pull back, and then project, again. Then a tiny whitish tooth appeared through the wall of the womb, and blood ran from the tiny aperture.
"I do not think I want to watch this,” said Cabot.
"It is the way of life,” said Lord Grendel.
There was then more blood and then, clearly, in moments, a tiny head appeared, with red fangs. Tiny reddish eyes then opened, perhaps for the first time, tiny, blazing eyes, and glared balefully outward at Cabot. Then a small paw, with claws, thrust through the widening hole, tearing at it, scratching at it, widening it. Then there seemed a frenzy of activity within, an energetic wriggling, and the whole head and a shoulder emerged, ears laid back, all glistening and bloody, and blood began to run down the side of the womb, profusely, and Cabot stepped back, further, and then, suddenly, a small body emerged, and clung to the outside of the womb, head downward, its claws fastened in the skin, and then it dropped to the floor, belly down, and more blood flowed about, and Cabot stepped even further away. He was then aware of movements about his feet, and several of the tiny urtlike scavengers in the tunnel rushed toward the blood, crouched down in it, and began to lap it up, and one was caught by a hind foot and pulled squealing backward toward the newcomer, and Cabot turned away, and continued down the tunnel.
"Do not be disturbed,” said Lord Grendel. “Is a human birth so different? Does not life begin in brutality, just as it often ends in such, as well?"
"What of the womb, its rupture, its wound?” asked Cabot.
"It is a young womb,” said Lord Grendel. “I think it will heal. Some wombs have survived as many as fifty emergences."
"How long will we stay here?” asked Cabot.
"We will spend the night here,” said Lord Grendel.
"Far from the wombs,” suggested Cabot.
"Certainly, if you wish,” said Lord Grendel.
At last they came to the end of the tunnel. Cabot could see the darkness of the world's arranged night outside.
"We will leave, early in the morning,” said Lord Grendel. “I would sleep sitting up. I would not put my head or face on the floor."
"I understand,” said Cabot.
In the morning Cabot started, awake, but there was nothing near him. He breathed more easily.
Lord Grendel was already up, fastening his harness.
Cabot looked about.
"Dear Grendel,” said Cabot. “What are these scratches? I did not notice them last night."
"I do not know,” said Grendel. “There are many of them, they seem the effect of desperate, agitated movement. They affect an area not more than a few inches in height and width. They are not fresh."
"I do not understand them,” said Cabot.
"Nor I,” said Lord Grendel.
Cabot, now intent, began to examine the floor of the tunnel, near the exit. “Here,” he said, pointing to the floor of the tunnel.
"Yes,” said Lord Grendel. “A print."
"That of a human foot,” said Cabot.
"A small human foot,” said Grendel, examining it.
"See the tininess, the high arch, the delicacy of the print,” said Cabot.
"A pretty print,” said Lord Grendel.
"That of a human female,” said Cabot.
"Clearly,” said Lord Grendel. “Killer humans have been in the vicinity. It is probably that of one of their females."
"What of the scratches?” asked Cabot.
"I do not understand them,” said Lord Grendel.
"Nor do I,” had said Cabot.
They then left the area, and continued their journey to the camp, at which they arrived a second day later, as earlier indicated.
Chapter, the Fifty-Fourth:
THERE IS CONVERSE IN A REBEL CAMP
"Dear Cabot,” said Statius, “I find the actions of humans mysterious. I fear I will never understand them."
"You may find this incomprehensible, dear friend,” said Cabot, “but humans, in their turn, do not always understand the doings of Kurii."
"You left the camp this morning,” said Statius, “with a haunch of tarsk, and you returned without it. Scarcely would you devour so much meat in so short a time. What did you do with it?"
"I performed an experiment,” said Cabot.
"And was this experiment successful?” inquired Statius.
"More so than I had hoped,” said Cabot.
"May I inquire into the nature of this experiment?” asked Statius.
"I may respond obliquely,” said Cabot, “if you have no objection."
"No,” said Statius. “Do as you wish."
"Surely you are aware,” said Cabot, “that more than one enemy has perished within pasangs of the camp."
"I have heard so,” said Statius.
"At least four, discovered, and perhaps more, undiscovered,” said Cabot.
"I have heard so,” said Statius.
"The area is dangerous, clearly, for Kurii,” said Cabot, “and yet our human foragers and scouts, alone, and those accompanied by Kurii, our brothers, have traversed the same terrain with impunity."
"It would seem so,” said Statius.
"Indeed, even noble Flavion, alone, in his numerous and courageous excursions in our behalf, has fared similarly."
"True,” said Statius.
"Do these impunities, and exceptions, not seem peculiar?"
"Assuredly."
"And perhaps they require some explanation?"
"Coincidence,” said Statius, “oddities, random fortuities. No other explanation is possible."
"You are familiar with coin gambling?” said Cabot.
"Certainly,” said Statius, “and stick gambling, and pebble gambling, and so on. We are fond of gambling."
"Suppose that the same face on a coin turned up repeatedly,” said Cabot. Say, it turned up a hundred times, a thousand times, would you not find this surprising?"
"Surely,” said Statius.
"Would you deem it a remarkable fortuity?"
"I would want to see the coin,” said Statius.