Free 02. Shadows of the Well of Souls by Jack L. Chalker Page B

notice. You are hearing me directly in Erdomese, although I speak only Itun, a tongue you are as physically incapable of uttering as I am yours, and I am hearing you quite clearly in Itun at the same time that my colleague here is hearing you in what passes for a voice in Wukl."
    "You be not born as form utilized," the strange, comic birdlike Wukl put it, the voice sounding like nothing Lori had ever heard or imagined. It was a kind of chilling sound, yet without any emotion or inflection whatsoever, and it seemed only partly said aloud and partly formed inside his own brain. It was, of course, male-voice Erdomese, but apparently the way the creature thought wasn't exactly compatible with the Erdomese language. There were limits on these things.
    Still, he was amazed and impressed almost beyond words. "Incredible! Uh—no, I wasn't born Erdomese, if that's what you mean. I entered through the Well. But how do you know?"
    "Conflict is," the Wukl attempted to explain, "clear to sense. Know not base not knowable. If unpleased could mediate self."
    "Don't try and follow it too closely," the Itun warned. "You will just turn your thoughts to boiling. We, too, think differently than you do, but I have had much training in dealing with others. The Wukl—well, they see things so differently from most races that we know it is difficult for them to understand others, but they are very skilled surgeons and they have good souls and desire to help. Their help, however, can be as convoluted and as unwanted as the initial problem. If given its own way, what would result would be what we might euphemistically call a surgical compromise that would be at best unique and not at all an improvement, as the injured and shipwrecked of a number of races have discovered when washed up on their shores. Nor should you take it too literally. The Wukl see everyone of us as horribly flawed, you see. We're not Wukls."
    The headache was passing, leaving only the slight stinging. "Yes, I see."
    "No want Wukl betterment?" the Wukl asked.
    "Um, no, not at this time, thank you. But—as of now I'll be able to understand all the other races, whether they themselves have translators or not? And they will understand me?"
    "Within limits, yes," the Itun responded. "You will find those limits can be daunting indeed, as the Wukl here demonstrates in one area, and there are some races simply too different in their thought patterns to allow any meaningful communication. But for the most part you will find that it will take more practice editing out the sounds than understanding what you wish. It will take a little getting used to, but for a traveler to foreign hexes it is the one thing to not be without."
    "Can I go now? I think I'm all right," Lori told them.
    "Yes, the Wukl is a superb diagnostician within limits, and if it hasn't noted a problem by this point in the procedure, then there is none. We have received payment in advance from your benefactor by messenger, so you are free to go as soon as you feel able."
    He was still a little groggy, and the humidity and heavy gravity made him not totally steady, but he decided he should get back to the hotel.
    He soon experienced the strangeness of hearing those alien speakers all about him, and the initial disorientation, since while the words were understandable, the meaning was in most cases more obscure than the Wukl. His respect for the Ituns like the doctor and the hotel people went up enormously; Ituns definitely did not think along the lines of humans or Erdomese.
    Julian was awake and apparently had been for some time. Although Erdomese did not take baths on the whole—a complete immersion for any length of time would remove naturally protective oils and could lead to an ugly and sometimes painful itchy skin condition akin to mange—spraying their faces and upper torsos with a showerlike wand could have a cooling and freshening effect. Clearly she'd spent some time in the bath area and had made some use of