His hunger less painful, the emissary decided to maintain a heightened level of consciousness for the present and adjusted the external metabolism controls of his support system accordingly. He was pushing himself too hard, but there would be time for rest once the current crisis was resolved. And that resolution, RyRelee knew, must be accomplished soon. The Cora awaited results with the same impatience as did the deranged chieftain who ruled this region of the planet.
It galled RyRelee that his own efficiency was in part to blame. He should have foreseen that the phile would already have begun to produce a brood—either she had mated earlier than his agents had reported, or her gestation period was a shorter interval in lighter gravity than anticipated. If he had not interfered in his zeal to see the phile safely housed in the Emperor’s menagerie, another few days would have seen Rome infested with immature philes, capable of hunting on their own.
Still, the Cora might have observed this as well, and then would come the cleansing. For all their fine talk of protecting the natural development of intelligent life-forms, the Cora would be willing to obliterate this failure of their policy with thermonuclear destruction. Of course, the philes’ savage homeworld had given the creatures the capacity for sudden intracellular changes which made them immune to toxins and even to genetically-tailored viruses.
But there was in any case a hard edge to the Cora, an arrogance perhaps necessary in a race able to rule the galaxy. The emissary had no idea as to exactly what had provoked the wrath of the Cora and brought about the destruction of another native civilization on an island close to here some fifteen hundred of this world’s years earlier—Creta, he believed they called what remained of the place today—but he supposed someone had been supplying the aborigines with illegal advanced technology. The Cora might believe that such demonstrations would serve as warning to others who might be tempted to violate their policies of galactic peace, but RyRelee could almost feel sorry for the natives whose civilization had been thus sacrificed for the example.
RyRelee spread the corpse of the phile chick onto a table and laid out the instruments required for his examination. He had to work with only edged metal cutting tools—more obsessive caution on the part of the Cora—but he was nonetheless able to lay bare the concealed genital cleft in the creature’s abdomen. But at this stage of its development, it was morphologically impossible to distinguish the immature ovipositor from the male organ, and RyRelee gave it up in favor of conclusive cytological examination. Cellular tissues introduced into the more sophisticated instruments provided by the Cora established that the chromosomal pattern of the dead chick was male.
RyRelee hissed in exultation—was brought back to reality as the normal pleased-laughter sounds were horribly distorted by the surgical modifications of the Cora. Still, that couldn’t rob him of his triumph, for within another few days his mission on this primitive world would be accomplished—and to RyRelee’s satisfaction.
The situation was rapidly deteriorating, and every hour the emissary remained here increased his danger. Despite his contempt for these primitives, if their Emperor lost patience and demanded his arrest, a thousand natives with crude weapons would inevitably win out over one intelligent being with superior firepower. And now that the phile was aware of RyRelee’s presence here, the creature would certainly attempt to seek him out—and RyRelee knew that a phile was not easily deterred from its intended kill.
But the emissary’s success in this deadly game was all but assured. RyRelee now knew that the phile could indeed produce multiple broods on this world—and that the natives here could mount no real defense to a widespread infestation of the creatures. Earth was truly the perfect breeding ground for philes, as RyRelee had originally supposed. All that remained was to make certain that his dangerously competent native hunters did not kill the phile through their blundering—and to assure the Cora that this phile had indeed been destroyed as ordered. After that, this region and soon this world would be overrun with philes—worth an untold fortune to those who would pay for healthy specimens—and RyRelee would be secretly reaping his profits in the comfort of his palace. Even if the Cora eventually discovered the presence of philes on Earth and reacted with characteristic finality, this dead phile hatchling would preserve RyRelee from their justice. Clearly the emissary had destroyed a male phile as instructed by his masters, and if a gravid female had also escaped the crash of the starship, RyRelee had been informed of only one phile to seek out and destroy.