She honked again, listened, and then said, "Some of the honkers speak the Gaol language. They can't whistle, but their honks can be the equivalent of the whistles that make up words. They just have to be the same lengths of the whistles and have the same timing between groups of whistles. He understands them when they do that, but he doesn't know honker speech.
"The Integrator didn't tell us that Garth would be hidden.
Apparently, he took it for granted that we'd know that Garth had to be concealed up here. That's the way of the honkers.
They assume a certain amount of intelligence in others. We'd better get used to their way of doing things, Jack."
They went down the steps again and passed through several tunnels lit only by pine torches set in wall sconces. They emerged into a vast cavern. This was well illuminated by light from plants growing on the walls and ceilings. These were tangled vines gro ing luminiferous pods.
A twenty-foot-wide stream of water coursed from a hole in one wall to a hole at the far end of the cavern. A bridge formed of material ' like spiderweb silk, its cables attached to the cavern ' ing, cell crossed the stream. The mouth-watering odor of meat cooked in stone braziers filled the cavern. The smoke drifted slowly along and was sucked up by a large hole in the ceiling.
About thirty honkers, adults and a few children, were here. The youngsters were like children on Earth or elsewhere, playing, making a lot of noise, running around, having a good time, and testing the adults' patience.
Jack expected to be annoyed by them, especially since he needed quiet and privacy to think about his plans and also to talk (via Tappy) to the Integrator. Surprisingly, the noise was not to bother him. Perhaps, his increased empathy made him more tolerant.
Then he caught sight of a table near the wall and forgot about the infants. He walked to it and bent down to look intently at the objects on its top. They were three concentric circles made of some brown fibrous cardboard and, in the center, a tiny rose-red stone. Bending over to get closer to the stone, he saw that one side of it had been carved to make a sort of throne.
The inner circle bore on its inner side the same images and symbols that were on the crater-wall ring. These were also on the inner side of the two outer rings. By them were several piles of papyruslike paper. The top pages of these were inked with handwritten characters. These honkers were not preliterates He called to Tappy. Before she could reach him, a honker walked swiftly to him and began "talking." When Tappy got to him, she said, "It's a model of the crater bands. Apparently, there are two similar rings around the one we can see. They're concealed inside the cliff. He says this model 's the latest in a long, long series. The honkers have been studying it for many centuries, maybe millennia, trying to figure out what the function of the real rings is."
A series of loud blasts from the Integrator interrupted her. She said, "He wants to talk to us. Now."
The Integrator sat on a high-backed and intricately carved chair by a table. He was feeding his body-beasts with meat and vegetables. Another honker was doling out live insects to the mossy oysterlike thing covering the shaman's genitals. Somewhere 'n the mass beneath its thick greenish hair covering was a mouth.
At a gesture from the Integrator, Jack and Tappy sat down. Bu+, the shaman indicated that he had meant for Tappy only to take a chair.
She said, "Sorry, Jack. He says this is going to be a long talk, more like a lecture, actually. He doesn't want to be interrupted by my translating what he says. You wander around, do whatever you want to do while he talks. Later, I'll report what he's told me."
"Don't forget to ask him about the model of the crater rings," Jack said. "I want to know everything he knows."
"Runner there, that's his name, Runner," Tappy said, indicating the male who had told her about the model, "will guide you.
You can go wherever you wish, but he'll see you don't go into dangerous areas."
Jack bent over and kissed her forehead. "See you." But he did not leave at once. He stayed to watch the Imaget snatch a tiny piece of meat from a dish near the edge of the table. It had to move fast to escape the lunge of the snake thing. Jack paled. It would be a terrible loss if the Imaget were killed.
However, the hatchling was the fastest creature he had ever seen. Its jump was a blur like a hummingbird's wings in flight.
In fact, it looked as if it had zipped from this continuum into another and then immediately reappeared in this world. That was a fanciful analogy, which, however, might be true.
An estimated hour later, he returned from his tour. Though he could not understand his guide's language, he had comprehended from the gestures that the many caves he had seen were a very small part of the complex. Part of it was a natural cavern network. Another part had been dug by others than honkers, if he interpreted Runner's hand signs rightly. And the honkers had extended the work of their predecessors. -Many of the caves contained animals and insects. These were obviously being mutated into species the honkers intended to use for their own purposes. One great chamber particularly fascinated him. Millions of green red-spotted flies were in cages made of what seemed to be glass. But this mater'al was excreted by a horde of worms laid out in frameworks. The stuff, when dried, could be used as glassy panes.
Runner managed to impart the information that the flies were very poisonous.
Another chamber was devoted to a fungus that ate metal and plastic. The latter material, Jack guessed, came from artifacts which the honkers had stolen from the Gaol or picked up after they had been discarded.
When Jack was led back to the council chamber, Tappy and the shaman were still at the table. She was drinking a ruby-red liquor from a strangely shaped goblet of cut quartz. The Integrator was sipping his drink from another curiously formed stone goblet. Jack took several seconds to realize that the container was made of bone, not stone, and that it had to be the skull of an upper-class Gaol.
The shaman gestured for Jack to sit down. A honker brought him a stone goblet shaped like a hawk with half-folded wings.
Its eyes were large emeralds. The liquor smelled like wine and was wine. It was too thick for his taste, but the glow that came swiftly after swallowing it was pleasant.
"I like it fine," Tappy said. "But you should know it's made from insect blood."
If he had not swallowed so much of the liquor, he might have' gotten sick. By now, he didn't care if it had been made from horse manure. This world wasn't such a bad place after all. In fact, he felt as if everything was going to work out in Tappy's favor. The Gaol would be utterly defeated, and all would be well in the world.
While Tappy related her conversation, the shaman went to sleep. Some sudden honks and the wild waving of his hip tentacles indicated that he was having a dream. Or a nightmare.
"What'd he say about that?" Jack said, pointing at the craterring model.
"The shamans still have no idea what the crater ring is for. It was there when their ancestors climbed the crater wall and came.
down onto the floor. By the way, their name for themselves can be translated as 'the Latest." Nobody knows why they're named that. They do have myths about its origin.
"Anyway, when the Latest got here, they saw the moving circle, and, of course, it's intrigued them and even become part of their religion. The original settlers thought that the images on the band were representations of the gods and the symbols were holy messages. If deciphered, they would bring permanent peace and plenty to the honkers, other peoples, too. The more enlightened now believe that the ring was made by a species that came here from another planet."