The geneticists had suggested a complete cellular inventory, but she had resisted that. Perhaps she didn’t really want to know. If they found something … Well, how very final that would be!
Trompe said, “I imagine the doctors are very interested in him! The immune system, I mean.”
“Extremely interested. Particularly inasmuch as he also heals very quickly. At first thought, these traits would seem to be extremely valuable—”
“But only the healing, the immunity.”
“Right. If they could be separated from the rest of his pattern, but no one knows what particular combination of combinations has resulted in that trait.”
“So, whatever’s wrong, it can’t be fixed.”
She stiffened. “I object to the word. Leely is all right the way he is! You may as well know that Leelson Famber and I disagreed on that point.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “But … how intelligent is he?”
“I believe he has a different level of intelligence,” she said belligerently. One of her most vehement arguments with Leelson had been on that subject. She tried to be fair. “Though it’s hard to be sure because our idea of intelligence is so dependent upon the use of language. He scores quite high on some nonverbal tests, those that don’t depend solely on classification.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What I said earlier! He doesn’t classify things. He can’t look at a pile of blocks and pick out all the blue ones. Mere blueness isn’t a category for Leely. Nor mere roundness, mere squareness, mere … whatever. Each thing is its own thing.”
“With its own name?”
“Who knows? If he could talk, perhaps that would be true. He’s past the age when most children either learn a language or create one.” She heard the pain in her voice, knew Trompe heard it too.
“So?” He was looking at her curiously, figuring her out.
Lutha took firm control of her voice. She had to sound objective and calm. She would not start out on this arduous project with a companion who felt she was irrational.
“Since he’s so very healthy, I’ve considered he might be a new and fortunate mutation. Perhaps he will learn language later than most children.”
There was no legitimate reason for her to believe that, but she believed it anyhow, passionately, with her whole heart. Leelson had said that for every positive mutation, there were undoubtedly thousands of useless or lethal ones. Intellectually, she accepted that. So far as Leely was concerned, she could not. He couldn’t be … useless.
She pulled her mind away from that thought. She didn’t want Trompe Paggas to think she was—what? Deluded. A mother who was blind and fond to the point of stupidity? Speak of something else!
Trompe gave her the opening. “He didn’t like those colors you gave him. Why was that, do you suppose?”
“A mistake on my part,” she admitted ruefully. “He loves to paint, as you saw, and I thought the colors would be tempting. I was wrong. They don’t please him for some reason. They have the wrong texture or smell. He does quite nice renderings in feces, as you’ve seen. Or in gravy, or mud.”
“Organic media,” mused Trompe. “Probably with organic smells.”
“Perhaps he identifies by smell, categorizes by smell. I don’t know. Maybe he has another sense entirely.”
A superhuman sense, she didn’t say, though she thought it. A more-than-human sense. She caught herself and flushed. She’d mentioned these thoughts to a few family members, a few friends, all of whom thought she was pushing the limits of reality. And sometimes—yes, sometimes she knew she would trade eventual superhumanity for a Leely who would learn to use the potty and keep his clothes on!
“No need to get upset, Lutha. I understand.” Trompe was smiling at her, squeezing her shoulder. “Fine. I was briefed. I was just digging for some kind of overall understanding, but we’ve obviously said enough.” He seated himself and adopted an expression that said he was getting down to business.
“It’s going to be hard for you,” he said.
She nodded, admitting as much.
Trompe tapped his front teeth with a thumbnail. “The Procurator wishes you to know you may have all the help you need, both in preparing to go and to keep your business alive while you’re gone. Meantime, I made some inquiries of my own. I thought Leelson might be, you know, simply avoiding the issue, but he’s truly gone. No one I spoke to had any idea where he was.”