“I doubt that,” he said, “but here it is … “
Apart from one loud, untranslatable sound from Naydrad, they watched him until he had finished speaking. It was Prilicla who broke the incredulous silence.
“Dr. Hamilton made no mention of this,” said the empath. “Did you show the teeth to or discuss them with anyone?”
“He didn’t examine the teeth before he gave them back to me,” Hewlitt replied. “They were fine and very hard to see, anyway. There were five or six of them, pale grey in color and about an inch long, on each tooth. They were in my hand all the way home, but I didn’t show it to my grandmother because she was a bit irritated with me over what she thought was an unnecessary visit to the dentist. By the time we got back to the house they were gone. They must have dropped off or been blown away by the groundcar’s airconditioning. I know, none of you believe me.”
Murchison laughed, then shook her head and said, “I’m sorry. But it is difficult to believe you when you keep telling us about so many strange, unsupported, unrelated, and completely incredible symptoms. Do you blame us?”
Prilicla’s spidery limbs were trembling again. It said, “I promised that we would not cause embarrassment to friend Hewlitt, who feels that it is telling the truth.”
“I know he thinks he is telling the truth, dammit,” said Murchison. “But I ask you, hairy teeth!”
This time it was Stillman who exercised the diplomacy characteristic of a cultural contact specialist by changing the subject.
“Dr. Prilicla,” he said. “Would you like to visit the ravine now?”
Hewlitt waited until they were outside before he said, “I knew that was Fudge the instant I saw it, and I know it recognized me at the same time. I can’t describe … It was a really strange feeling.”
“Your feeling of recognition toward your nonsapient little friend was complex,” said the empath. “I have never before encountered an emotional response quite like it, and I would not have been surprised if you had asked the Tralthans for the animal to be returned to you. I am pleased at your response to the situa … …Friend Murchison, you are feeling confused and dissatisfied about something. What is it?”
“That cat,” she replied, glancing behind her at the house. “My parents liked cats and never had less than two of them at home, so I’m familiar with the species. For example, the life span of a healthy cat is twelve to fourteen Earth years, not double that period, so Snarfe has no business being alive. Dr. Stillman, how sure are you that it is an Earth cat and not a more long-lived Etlan or otherspecies look-alike?”
“Very sure,” the surgeon-captain replied. “When the culturalcontact people came to Etla, and it was clear that they would be staying here for a long time, the Corps leaned over backward in the matter of bringing out their personal effects, including, in one case, a pet cat. A few weeks after arrival it produced a litter of six kittens who were all found foster homes. Snarfe was one of them.”
“Then why,” said Murchison, “should an ordinary Earth cat double its life span here?”
Stillman walked several paces before he said, “I’ve often wondered about that myself, ma’am. My theory is that on Etla the cat was not exposed to any of the feline diseases it would normally have encountered on Earth and, as we know, Etlan pathogens have no effect on off-world species. Here it was isolated from all lifethreatening or physically debilitating diseases and should die only from accident or old age, after using up all nine of its long and very healthy lives.”
Murchison smiled. “We know that Fudge had one bad accident and survived it,” she said. “That is a nice theory, Doctor, but is there supporting evidence? What about the other kittens from the same litter?”
“I was afraid you would ask that,” said Stillman. “One lost an argument with a log transporter. All five of the others died naturally, so far as I know from old age, about ten years ago.
“Oh,” said Murchison.