Kn'ick't shuttled down to Jangyu with a deeply felt sense of relief. Not that it hadn't enjoyed the conference, no, nothing like that, it was always fascinating associating with other sentients – but other worlds always lacked something. The subtle mix of gasses that made Jangyu's atmosphere so comfortable for the natives, perhaps. And the food was never quite tasty enough, or of the right texture. And adapting to the trappings of a bi-bisym-sent way of life was always a bit awkward. The seating was always a little uncomfortable, the sleeping arrangements never quite correct, no matter how hard the host species tried...
But at least they did try, Kn'ick't thought to itself as it stepped out onto the undulating mat of vegetation that formed the shuttle landing pad, its six, short, triple-jointed legs adjusting to the movement effortlessly. It twisted to glance behind it, mandibles clicking quietly, amused despite itself to see the Dothnachdin, arms flailing, lose his balance and fall over, bouncing uncontrollably on the soft surface. It turned to help, offering one of its manipulatory arms: the Dothnachdin caught hold gratefully and levered himself up.
"My thanks! I had been warned of the... peculiarities of your world, but hearing and doing are two different things..."
Kn'ick't inclined its head.
"Indeed, sheya Talin..." It grabbed the Dothnach as he almost fell over again. "Perhaps I should carry you to the dwelving? It would be safer..."
Talin's face assumed an expression that could have been gratitude or could have been embarrassment – Kn'ick't never had quite got the hang of the subtleties of bi-bisym-sent body language. But the Dothnach inclined his head, and that was one gesture that Kn'ick't did recognise.
"Oh, please... If it's not offensive to you..."
Kn'ick't waved a forelimb.
"If it were, I would not have offered."
Talin looked a little... off when he finally slid from the Jangoon's back and onto the steep and verdant slopes of his host's home iz'kee. Kn'ick't eyed him carefully, unable to say precisely why all wasn't quite as it should be with the Dothnach. It held him carefully around the middle of his body until he found his balance.
"Is all well, sheya?"
Talin swallowed several times. When he finally spoke, his voice was higher in tone than before, and quavered oddly.
"Yes, yes, thank you, sheya Kn'ick't. The experience... was... unfamiliar..."
Of course, Talin came from a mostly desert planet, quite unlike Jangyu. It was most likely his senses were disturbed by the continually shifting surface of the waterborne vegetation that drifted about the planet's placid waters and provided the most relaxing – and easy - means of moving from one iz'kee to the next. It certainly took him a surprising amount of time to stop wobbling around once he was on solid ground.
Fortunately the dwelving wasn't far from their stepping off place: with support from his host, Talin was able to stumble the short distance, only tripping once. At the entrance he paused for a moment, and turned to gaze out at the landscape through a gap in the vegetation.
"Your world is so... green... It is very pleasant to the eyes."
Kn'ick't waved its manipulatory limbs in a gesture it understood was simultaneously becomingly dismissive yet appreciative.
"We think it is very beautiful."
"And very fertile." Talin sighed. "I love my homeworld, but there are times I could wish it were a little less arid."
The Dothnachdini could, of course, apply to the Collective for assistance in greening their world, but since they managed their resources admirably, and were a proudly independent people, it was unlikely that they ever would. Except for the occasional request for water aid in times of particularly severe drought, they preferred not to ask for help. It was an admirable trait in their species, in Kn'ick't's opinion.
Talin turned back to his host and inclined his head, an indication that he was recovered enough to continue. Kn'ick't ushered him into the twisting entryway to his home.
It was hardly less bright than the exterior, most of the light coming from the bioluminescent plants lining the walls of the almost circular corridor that led gently down into the dwelving. It helped make the place feel bigger and less claustrophobic, something Talin truly appreciated. Underfoot the greenery was soft and dry, and there was a faintly spicy scent drifting up from below.
"Ah, good. My kin are preparing a meal for us."
Talin grinned.
"Your culinary skills are renowned. I look forward to the experience."
That, of course, was why the Dothnach was here. Jangyu bred a vast variety of native beasts, many of them dangerous, but most of them both nutritive and exceptionally tasty to the majority of sentients. Talin had been tasked with exploring the native cuisine to determine whether and how it might be incorporated into other world's menus. It was an assignment he was looking forward to with considerable eagerness, particularly the preparation of a large and vicious aquatic animal the natives called q'in'kin, which was served on special occasions such as eclosure, or the first egg-laying of the adult Jangoon. Talin had worried that perhaps the q'in'kin had special ceremonial connotations, rendering its use outside of Jangyu sacrilegious, but Kn'ick't had been happy to reassure him on the journey from C'Prime. Jangoons were pragmatic beings, with few ceremonies and fewer prohibitions, and would be happy to have their world acknowledged for more than just being Bornath's source of the metals and spun fibres on which their construction and weapons industries depended – or as a dumping ground for Ggidge's unwanted mineral residue.
As they approached the inner entrance to the dwelving the light grew brighter and the corridor broader. Talin sniffed: the spicy smell was stronger here, and accompanied by the chittering, rasping sound of Jangoons in conversation. Mandibles clicking in what the Dothnach assumed was a greeting, Kn'ick't led the way into a warm, pleasantly-lit expansive chamber hollowed out of the pale pink rock.
Kn'ick't's ay'ett – the typical kin-group on Jangyu – consisted of around eighteen individuals of varying ages, as far as Talin could tell, although he knew enough about Jangoons to suspect that the gently bubbling pool that took up a good quarter of the back wall of the chamber probably contained a brood of immature na'upl'in, developing under the sweet-smelling moss-like mat of vegetation covering the surface of the water. Kn'ick't raised its forelimbs as a large, mostly blue Jangoon ambled forwards, regarding the Dothnach with what appeared to be interest.
"This is Ht'ink, our... Decider." Kn'ick't indicated Talin with a forelimb and clicked something in its own language. Ht'ink – the appellation decider, Talin knew, meant that the big Jangoon was the oldest member and leader of the ay'ett, and most likely the progenitor of the majority of the beings in the dwelving – inclined its head and gestured to a large, shallow dip in the centre of the floor: following Kn'ick't, Talin gingerly settled himself on the warm stone.
He could tell he was the object of considerable curiosity, but the Jangoons were well-known for their courtesy to offworlders, and kept their distance. He suspected there was a lot of 'pathic conversation going on, too, but not being 'pathic himself, wasn't privy to what was being discussed. He surmised it was probably himself...
A Jangoon, its chitin still the soft pale green of the youngster, offered him a translucently-thin stone platter with a variety of interesting foodstuffs artistically arranged along its length. Talin accepted the... starter? Welcoming snacks? with a nod and a smile, glancing at Kn'ick't to confirm it would be polite to eat: the Jangoon nodded and gestured to the platter.
Talin eyed the selection with interest. He'd confirmed before leaving C'Prime that there was nothing on Jangyu that could actually harm him, so could consider everything he was offered without fear – which was good, because he didn't recognise anything at all on the platter. It all smelt very appealing, though, and he lifted a small round of alternating red and green layers of... something to his mouth, taking a small bite – closing his eyes in pleasure as a tingling assortment of delicate tastes flooded his mouth. He swallowed and grinned at his host.
"This is most delicious!"
Kn'ick't inclined its head.
"We are honoured that you think so, sheya Talin." It reached forward and helped itself to one of the two mounds of pale purple splodges on the platter, popping it into its mouth and masticating, then chittering at the three beings working with great speed and efficiency in what Talin assumed was the food preparation area, in a spacious alcove to one side. All three cooks (which is what Talin perceived them to be) turned and raised their forelimbs, mandibles clicking in a vaguely amused manner, before turning back to their work. Kn'ick't nodded at Talin.
"Our Nourishers proffer their thanks and appreciation, and tender their services as teachers while you are with us."
Talin bowed his head.
"I am deeply honoured, and will be very happy to accept their tutelage." He muted his eagerness so as not to appear rude, but he was itching to discover the intricacies of Jangoon cuisine. "Might I enquire as to when it will be convenient for me to join them?"
A chorus of clicking came from around the dwelving – laughter, Talin assumed, but friendly rather than mocking. Kn'ick't tilted its head.
"On the morrow, sheya Talin. After you have rested. We would not want you to tire too soon..."
Jangoons slept either standing up, or immersed in water, depending on preference and how desiccated their external casing happened to be. For guests, however, each dwelving provided a separate chamber, simple but comfortable, that could be adapted to the needs of almost every known sentient. Talin found himself perfectly at ease in a well-padded sleep-pit, the cool stone of the walls around the edge similar to his own resting place at home. The light was soft and warm, and a very light breeze stirred the faintly chiming crystalline artwork that hung from the centre of the ceiling. The entire set-up revealed a detailed knowledge of Dothnachdin culture, and Talin found his admiration for the Jangoons increasing: were any to visit his homeworld there was no way the Dothnachdini could have provided something so accommodating. Lighter gravity, unfamiliar sounds and scents, and a high oxygen atmosphere not withstanding, Talin slept extremely well that night.
Over the next two days the Dothnach discovered that for all the seemingly primitive nature of their civilisation, there was nothing rudimentary about the Jangoon attitude to food. The nutrition preparation area was kept spotless, as were the few but versatile utensils. The three storage areas – hot, warm and cold, kept that way by sophisticated containment fields – were laden with a bewildering variety of foodstuffs; it took Talin most of a local day to learn what they all were, how they were harvested and stored, and how they were best employed in the diet. It was wholly engrossing, and the Nourishers took a slightly bemused amusement in his unconscious exclamations of delight with every new taste that passed his lips. And they were willing teachers. Unfortunately, as Talin had known from the start, he didn't have enough limbs, nor of the right physical configuration, to be able to utilise the methods or tools correctly, but Dothnachdini are resourceful, and he founds ways around many of the problems. Though he never did find a way of applying the simultaneous force and delicacy required to open the k'nak trivalve without smashing the delicate and delicious creature inside. There were times he envied the Jangoons their multiple forelimbs...
He was engrossed in preparing a large black succulent water vegetable for which the Jangoons had six different names, depending on its stage of development – the one Talin was very carefully unwinding from its core was midway through its lifecycle and referred to as kl'ib'nik – when one of the younger members of the ay'ett skittered through the door in a state of what appeared to be excitement, mandibles clicking frantically. Kn'ick't eyed it for a few moments, then turned to the Dothnach.
"It appears the timing of the q'in'kin hunt has been changed. The pack is making ready. Do you still wish to participate?"
Talin looked down at the kl'ib'nik, momentarily flustered and undecided: T'i'kit, the slightly larger of his tutors, made little shooing gestures with her forelimbs.
"Will complete task, sheya Talin. Go. Enjoy."
Smiling his thanks, the Dothnach hurriedly changed into the protective wetgear he'd brought along, then followed Kn'ick't up to the surface, struggling a little to keep up with the fast pace.
On the hillside above the dwelving a group of nine Jangoons had assembled, all of them large, all of them restless and eager. Their language sounded quite different to their normal speech, deeper and slower: noticing his curiosity, Kn'ick't murmured that the dialect of the hunt was distinct from the usual Jangoon language, expressive of the pleasure the hunters took in the pursuit and their expectation of good feeding afterwards. Talin nodded.
"Do they continue in that dialect during the hunt? How does it carry under water?"
There was a slightly startled silence, during which Kn'ick't eyed him quizzically – then Talin remembered that of course the Jangoon were telepathic... He grimaced and lowered his head.
"My apologies, sheya Kn'ick't. Of course not. The excitement has made me forgetful."
Kn'ick't chittered its amusement.
"No offence was offered. We are gratified that you find our culture so... stimulating."
"Oh, without a doubt! I am hugely honoured to be here."
Kn'ick't inclined its head, then gestured to the group, who were watching them, an edge of impatience to their stance, and Talin hastily pulled his breather over his face, nodding to his host to indicate that he was ready. They followed the hunters down to the water's edge, then, with Kn'ick't keeping hold of the Dothnach, under the slow, gentle ripples lapping at the rock.
Under water the iz'kee sloped downwards as steeply as above, if not more so. The light was a cool green, and to his surprise Talin found himself able to see to a surprising distance: he'd expected the water to be a little murky, his visibility restricted. Though that might, he thought to himself, have been less alarming given the sight that met his eyes...
He thought at first perhaps the water was distorting his view, but when he turned to Kn'ick't, and watched, with some uneasiness, as the Jangoon folded all six legs close to its body and uncurled four... they looked a little like broad, jointed paddles. Which, it appeared, was exactly what they were, as Kn'ick't used them to push his rear end clear of the water for a moment or two. Talin watched closely as the layer of what he'd thought were scales on the Jangoon's back slowly expanded, becoming transparent... he suddenly realised what was happening: the Jangoon was inflating some sort of air-sac on its back, filling it with the gases it would need to remain underwater for the duration of the hunt.
He grinned to himself and memorised the action. He didn't know how many people knew about this aspect of Jangoon physiology, but he'd wager not many had actually seen it before!
Kn'ick't used the paddle-like limbs to pull itself fully underwater and gestured to the hunters, who were waiting for them a short distance away. Talin nodded and grasped the proffered forelimb firmly, then gasped as Kn'ickt shot away from the iz'kee at speed, following the even more speedily moving hunters. There would have been no way Talin could have kept up with them had his host not been pulling him along.
It was a fascinating experience for the Dothnach. He'd visited planets with plentiful water before, of course, had even learned to swim, and had no fear of being under water, so was able to look about as Kn'ick't sped after the hunters. Subaquatic Jangyu was as pleasant as it was above water, warm and full of life – most of it relatively harmless, he hoped, as much of it was equipped with a variety of fangs, spines and long, flexible limbs with poisonously-glistening spurs at the ends. But it evidently respected the sentients, disappearing into deeper water before they could approach...
He felt Kn'ick't tense, and looked up from his perusal of the vegetation-clad depths. The Jangoon was pointing ahead, and Talin's eyes widened as he saw what had to be the q'in'kin.
It was huge, with a trio of enormous eyes on what Talin assumed was its head. The mouth, which was half-way down the long, sinuous body, gaped wide and was full of rows of extremely sharp rasping teeth: clusters of feeding tentacles wafted to and fro, occasionally catching some small creature and dragging it struggling into the maw. Five large, powerful frills of fin ran down its body, giving it its fabled speed and agility. But what Talin had definitely not been expecting was that its flesh was completely transparent.
Even as the nutritionist in him was considering how this fact could be best used in presentation, the alien in him was feeling oddly squeamish at the sight of the internal organs pulsing and toiling as the beast turned its cold gaze on the pack of hunters...
Kn'ick't and Talin hung back as the hunt began, afraid to get too close in case of injury – the q'in'kin was fast, and strong, and didn't want to be caught, sliding like liquid muscle into the vegetation below, then shooting off across the underwater ravine as the hunters rousted it from its hiding place. Finally it turned to fight, lashing at them with tentacle and spine-tipped fin and teeth: to Talin's surprise it was able to invert its mouth, enabling it to use its fangs to considerable advantage. Watching the hunters, big as they were, dwarfed against the q'in'kin's massive transparent body, Talin felt distinctly apprehensive. But Kn'ick't seemed undisturbed, so perhaps it wasn't quite as perilous as it looked...
The hunters didn't seem to be trying to attack the creature, though. Talin frowned, confused, wondering why not, watching as they goaded the q'in'kin into a writhing mass of rage and wincing every time someone moved close to a thrashing limb or spike. It seemed to last for hours, subjectively, but little by little Talin realised that the creature was tiring, its movements less aggressive and swift than at the start. A little while longer, and then the hunters suddenly moved decisively and in unison, surrounding the q'in'kin's head part and... Talin squinted, unsure for a moment as to what was happening. Then he saw that what he'd taken for large protective plates across the hunters' torsos slid apart to reveal another pair of limbs, nestled into a shallow cavity of their bodies. These were long and powerful, with large serrated claws at the ends: with frightening efficiency seven of the hunters simultaneously drove their claws into the q'in'kin, holding its wildly thrashing body as still as possible while the remaining two, with surgical precision, cut through the transparent flesh and severed what passed for its brain from the rest of its nervous system. Suddenly paralysed, the creature hung limply in the water, prevented from sinking to the bottom by the hunters. Kn'ick't turned to Talin, his demeanour expressing satisfaction: the Dothnach assumed that meant the hunt was now over. They swam back to the iz'kee, leaving the hunters to manoeuvre their massive, awkward, still-living prize to the communal holding pool.
Kn'ick't took Talin to the pool a little later. It was shallow and separated from the main waterway by an enclosing ridge, pierced in places to allow the circulation of fresh water. The q'in'kin lay there, stranded, its eyes dulled, expressionless, as... Talin swallowed, feeling faintly nauseous. The Jangoon were cutting the creature up while it was still alive.
Kn'ick't inclined its head. Whether it had realised how its guest was feeling, or whether it was simply being instructive, Talin didn't know and really didn't care.
"It must be living. Once it is dead, it very quickly becomes toxic and is wasted."
"Oh." Somewhat relieved, the Dothnach breathed a sigh and forced a smile. "I understand."
And of course, it was paralysed, couldn't feel a thing.
Or so he hoped. But even if it was in pain, there was nothing he could do about it... He turned to his host, managing to act normally.
"It was a most fascinating experience. I am deeply grateful to have been allowed to share it."
Kn'ick't nodded.
"And later you will be able to learn how we prepare it. You will like the taste, I think..."
The preparation was surprisingly simple, after the intricacies of the last few days. The meat – which wasn't quite completely transparent up close – was dense but easily cut into thick portions, and quickly cooked on a rack in a 'steamer', a native device that could also perform functions similar to grilling and smoking, depending on the instrument setting. T'i'kit timed one large portion precisely, then slid it onto a platter and presented it to Talin, accompanying it with a small bowl of gi'ik, the delightfully flowery tasting, mildly alcoholic native wine. Accepting both, Talin gingerly tasted a little of the q'in'kin.
He closed his eyes, the better to appreciate the exquisite flavour. Complex yet delicate, a light, almost fragrant foretaste followed by a deliciously rich, satisfying middle, with a faint underscoring of something deeper and very slightly salty – it was stunningly good. He licked his fingers, then his lips, slowly, and opened his eyes to find the whole ay'ett watching him intently. Mildly embarrassed, he pressed his hands together and lowered his head.
"Superb. I have never tasted the like." He took another bite, sighing with delight, eyes half-closing. "Truly amazing."
Ht'ink's mandibles clicked in what he'd come to recognise as a chuckle, and Kn'ick't inclined its head.
"We are all overjoyed that you like it."
Talin smiled.
"'Like' is too mild a word. I am overcome with pleasure."
"Taste it with the gi'ik. We enjoy the combination, and would welcome your opinion."
Talin wasn't too sure about the idea, but Kn'ick't proved right. The very different flavours complemented each other perfectly. Oh, if only the others could try this!
He smiled at his host.
"How may the flesh be preserved?"
T'i'kit clicked her mandibles.
"Cannot be, sheya Talin. We think not, at least."
"Not in stasis?"
"Think it spoil taste."
"Would there be any objection to my trying it?"
T'i'kit waved its forelimbs.
"No. You try. Welcome."
"I am most honoured."
"Most welcome."
As the ay'ett settled down to enjoy their own meals, Talin chewed pensively, relishing the subtly changing flavours. This really was the most astounding meal. It would prove extraordinarily popular with just about everyone – well, everyone who ingested animal products, anyway.
Such a pity that Fohmatraans wouldn't be able to appreciate the subtlety. He suspected that this dish would be very much to their liking, otherwise.
The problem was exporting the meat. He'd have to confirm it, but it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that exporting and maintaining the live animal would be impossible – too many biological constraints and problems involved. He'd have to try a variety of different preservation and transportation modes. If stasis didn't work, what about freezing? Or perhaps smoking, in the Dothnachdini style, over a variety of differently scented woods? Vacuum-packed, or encased in brishnymidia and sealed in a flask of the native gases – or water – perhaps.
He'd have to let Zaxifrag's know about this, of course. Zaxi always wanted to know about new gustatory experiences...
He paused, hand half-way to his mouth, as inspiration hit him. Now there was a thought. If he couldn't deliver the q'in'kin to the galaxy, perhaps the galaxy could be persuaded to come to him. He grinned to himself, and turned to his host.
"Sheya Kn'ick't... to whom would I speak on the subject of opening an eatery on Jangyu?"