CHAPTER XI
Mixed emotion! Ha! The author of that cliche didn't even know itsmeaning! Kennon strode furiously down the dusty road toward Station Onetrying to sublimate his inner conflict into action. It was useless, ofcourse, for once he stopped moving the grim tug-of-war between trainingand desire would begin again, and no matter how it ended the resultwould be unsatisfactory. As long as he had been able to delude himselfthat he was fond of Copper the way a man is fond of some lesser species,it had been all right. But he knew now that he was fond of her as a manis of a woman--and it was hell! For no rationalization in the universewould allow him to define her as human. Copper was humanoid--somethinglike human. And to live with her and love her would not bemiscegenation, which was bad enough, but bestiality which was a thousandtimes worse.
Although throughout most of the Brotherhood miscegenation was an unknownword, and even bestiality had become a loose definition on many worldswith humanoid populations, the words had definite meaning and moralforce to a Betan. And--God help him--he was a Betan. A lifetime oftraining in a moral code that frowned upon mixed marriages and shrankappalled from even the thought of mixing species was nothing to bringface to face with the fact that he loved Copper.
It was odd, Kennon reflected bitterly, that humans could do with animalswhat their customs and codes prohibited them from doing to themselves.For thousands of years--back to the very dawn of history when men hadbred horses and asses to produce mules--men had been mixing speciesto produce useful hybrids. Yet a Betan who could hybridize plants oranimals with complete equanimity shrank with horror from the thought ofapplying the same technique to himself.
What was there about a human being that was so sacrosanct? He shook hishead angrily. He didn't know. There was no answer. But the idea--thebelief--was there, ingrained into his attitudes, a part of his outlook,built carefully block by block from infancy until it now towered into amighty wall that barred him from doing what he wished to do.
It would be an easier hurdle if he had been born anywhere except onBeta. In the rest of the Brotherhood, the color of a man's skin, theshape of his face, the quality and color of his hair and eyes made nodifference. All men were brothers. But on Beta, where a variant-G sunhad already caused genetic divergence, the brotherhood of man was a termthat was merely given lip service. Betans were different and from birththey were taught to accept the difference and to live with it. Mixing ofBetan stock with other human species, while not actually forbidden, wasso encircled with conditioning that it was a rare Betan indeed who wouldrisk self-opprobrium and the contempt of his fellows to mate with anoutsider. And as for humanoids--Kennon shuddered. He couldn't break theattitudes of a lifetime. Yet he loved Copper.
And she knew he did!
And that was an even greater horror. He had fled from the office, fromthe glad light in her eyes, as a burned child flees fire. He needed timeto think, time to plan. Yet his body and his surface thoughts wanted noplans or time. Living with a Lani wasn't frowned upon on Flora. Many ofthe staff did, nor did anyone seem to think less of them for doingso. Even Alexander himself had half-confessed to a more than platonicaffection for a Lani called Susy.
Yet this was no excuse, nor would it silence the cold still voice in hismind that kept repeating sodomite--sodomite--sodomite with a passionlessinflection that was even more terrible than anger.
The five kilometers to Station One disappeared unnoticed beneath hisfeet as he walked, and he looked up in surprise to see the white wallsand red roofs of the station looming before him.
"Good Lord! Doc! What's got into you?" the stationmaster said. "Youlook like you'd seen a ghost. And out in this sun without a helmet! Comeinside, man, before you get sunstroke!"
Kennon chuckled without humor. "Getting sunstroke is the least of myworries, Al," he said, but he allowed Al Crothers to usher him inside.
"It's odd that you showed up right now," Al said, his dark face showingthe curiosity that filled him. "I just had a call from Message Centernot five minutes ago, telling me to have you call in if you showed up."
Kennon sighed. "On this island you can't get away from the phone," hesaid wryly. "O.K., where is it?"
"You look pretty bushed, Doc. Maybe you'd better rest awhile."
"And maybe it's an emergency," Kennon interrupted. "And probably it isbecause the staff can handle routine matters--so maybe you'd better showme where you keep the phone."
* * *
"One moment please," the Message Center operator said. There were a fewclicks in the background. "Here's your party," she continued. "Go ahead,Doctor."
"Kennon?" a nervous voice crackled from the receiver.
"Yes?"
"You're needed out on Otpen One."
"Who is calling--and what's the rush?"
"Douglas--Douglas Alexander. The Lani are dying! It's an emergency!Cousin Alex'll skin us alive if we let these Lani die!"
Douglas! Kennon hadn't thought of him since the one time they had metin Alexandria. That was a year ago. It seemed much longer. Since theBoss-man had exiled his cousin to that bleak rock to the east of Florathere had been no word of him. And now--he laughed a sharp bark ofhumorless annoyance--Douglas couldn't have timed it better if he hadtried!
"All right," Kennon said. "I'll come. What seems to be the trouble?"
"They're sick."
"That's obvious," Kennon snapped. "Otherwise you wouldn't be calling.Can't you tell me any more than that?"
"They're vomiting. They have diarrhea. Several have had fits."
"Thanks," Kennon said. "I'll be right out. Expect me in an hour."
"So you're leaving?" Al asked as he cradled the phone.
"That's a practitioner's life," Kennon said. "Full of interruptions. CanI borrow your jeep?"
"I'll drive you. Where do you want to go?"
"To the hospital," Kennon said. "I'll have to pick up my gear. It's anemergency all right."
"You're a tough one," Al said admiringly. "I'd hate to walk five kilosin this heat without a hat--and then go out on a call."
Kennon shrugged. "It's not necessarily toughness. I believe in doing onejob at a time--and my contract reads veterinary service, not personalproblems. The job comes first and there's work to do."
Copper wasn't in sight when Kennon came back to the hospital--a fact forwhich he was grateful. He packed quickly, threw his bags into the jeep,and took off with almost guilty haste. He'd contact the Hospital fromthe Otpens. Right now all he wanted was to put distance between himselfand Copper. Absence might make the heart grow fonder, but at the momentpropinquity was by far the more dangerous thing. He pointed the bluntnose of the jeep toward Mount Olympus, set the autopilot, opened thethrottle, and relaxed as best he could as the little vehicle sped at topspeed for the outer islands. A vague curiosity filled him. He'd neverbeen on the Otpens. He wondered what they were like.
* * *
Otpen One was a rocky tree-clad islet crowned with the stellate mass ofa Class II Fortalice. But this one wasn't like Alexandria. It was fullymanned and in service condition.
"Airboat!" a voice crackled from the dashboard speaker of the jeep,"Identify yourself! You are being tracked."
Kennon quickly flipped the IFF switch. "Dr. Kennon, from Flora," hesaid.
"Thank you, sir. You are expected and are clear to land. Bring yourvehicle down in the marked area." A section of the roof turned a garishyellow as Kennon circled the building. He brought the jeep in lightly,setting it carefully in the center of the area.
"Leave your vehicle," the speaker chattered. "If you are armed leaveyour weapon behind."
"It's not my habit to carry a gun," Kennon snapped.
"Sorry, sir--regulations," the speaker said. '"This is S.O.P."
Kennon left the jeep and instantly felt the probing tingle of a searchbeam. He looked around curiously at the flat roof of the fortresswith its domed turrets and ugly snouts of the main battery projectorspointing skyward. Beside him, the long metal doors of a missile launchermade a rectangula
r trace on the smooth surface of the roof. Behind himthe central tower poked its gaunt ferromorph and durilium outline intothe darkening sky bearing its crown of spiderweb radar antennae turningsteadily on their gimbals covering a vast hemisphere from horizon tozenith with endless inspection.
From the base of the tower a man emerged. He was tall, taller even thanKennon, and the muscles of his body showed through the tightness ofhis battle dress. His face was harsh, and in his hands he carried aBurkholtz magnum--the most powerful portable weapon mankind had yetdevised.
"You are Dr. Kennon?" the trooper asked.
"I am."
"Your I.D., please."
Kennon handed it over and the big man scanned the card with practicedeyes. "Check," he said. "Follow me, sir."
"My bags," Kennon said.
"They'll be taken care of."
Kennon shrugged and followed the man into the tower. A modern grav-shaftlowered them to the ground floor. They passed through a gloomycaricature of the Great Hall in Alexandria, through an iris, and down along corridor lined with doors.
A bell rang.
"Back!" the trooper said. "Against the wall! Quick! Into the doorway!"
"What's up?"
"Another practice alert." The trooper's voice was bored. "It gets sothat you'd almost wish for a fight to relieve the monotony."
A trooper and several Lani came down the corridor, running indisciplined formation. Steel clanged on steel as they turned the cornerand moments later the whine of servos came faintly to their ears. Fromsomewhere deep in the pile a rising crescendo of generators under fullbattle load sent out vibrations that could be sensed rather than heard.A klaxon squawked briefly. There was another clash of metal, and a harshvoice boomed through the corridors. "Fourteen seconds. Well done. Securestations!"
The trooper grinned. "That ties the record," he said. "We can go now."
The corridor ended abruptly at an iris flanked by two sentries. Theyconferred briefly with Kennon's guide, dilated the iris, and motionedfor Kennon to enter. The pastel interior of the modern office was ashocking contrast to the gray ferromorph corridors outside.
Douglas Alexander was standing behind the desk. He was much the same.His pudgy face was haggard with uncertainty and his eyes darted backand forth as his fingers caressed the knobby grip of a small Burkholtzjutting from a holster at his waist. There were new, unpleasant furrowsbetween his eyes. He looked older and the indefinable air of cruelty wasmore pronounced. He had been frightened the last time Kennon had seenhim, and he was frightened now.
"I'm not sure whether I am glad to see you, Kennon," he saiduncertainly. "But I suppose I have to be."
Kennon believed him.
"How have you been?" Kennon asked.
"Not too bad until this afternoon. Things have been going pretty well."He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. "I suppose CousinAlex will skin me for this, but there's nothing else I can do." Helicked his lips. "You've been here long enough--and you'll have to knoweventually." He fidgeted and finally sat down behind the desk. "Wehave trouble. Half the Lani were stricken about four hours ago. It wassudden. No warning at all. And if they die--" his voice trailed off.
"Well--what are we waiting for? Get someone to bring my bags down hereand we'll look them over."
"Do you have to?--Can't you prescribe something?"
"How? I haven't examined the patients."
"I can tell you what's wrong."
Kennon smiled. "I hardly think that's the way to do it. Even thoughyour description might be accurate, you still might miss something ofcritical importance."
Douglas sighed. "I thought that's what you'd say," he said. "Oh--verywell--you might as well see what we have out here."
"You can't possibly believe that I don't already know," Kennon said."You have male Lani."
Douglas looked at him, his face blank with surprise. "But--how did youknow? No one on the main island does except the Family. And we nevertalk about it. Did Eloise tell you? I noticed she was struck with youthe day you came, and the Lani who have come out here since have beentalking about you two. Did she do it?"
Kennon shook his head. "She never said a word."
"Then how--"
"I'm not stupid," Kennon said. "That story you've spread aboutartificial fertilization has more holes in it than a sieve. Thattechnique has been investigated a thousand times. And it has neverworked past the first generation. If you had been using it, the Laniwould long ago have been extinct. Haploids don't reproduce, and the onlyway the diploid number of chromosomes can be kept is to replace thoselost by maturation division of the ovum. You might be able to keep thediploid number by using immature ova, but the fertilization techniquewould be far more complex than the simple uterine injections you use atHillside Station."
Douglas looked at him blankly.
"Besides," Kennon added, "I have a microscope. I checked your so-calledfertilizing solution. I found spermatozoa, and spermatozoa only comefrom males. What's more, the males have to be the same species as thefemales or fertilization will not take place. So there must be maleLani. Nothing else fits. You've been using artificial inseminationon the main-island Lani. And from the way this place is guarded, it'sobvious that here is your stud farm."
Douglas shrugged and spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. "Isuppose," he said, "that's the way Old Doc found out too. We never toldhim, but he knew before he ever came out here."
"The only thing that puzzles me," Kennon went on, "is how you managed toeliminate the Y-chromosome carriers within the sperm."
"Eh?"
"The male sex-determinant. Half the sperm carry it, but so far as Iknow, there's never been a male born on the main island."
"Oh--that. It's something that's done in the labs here. Probably one ofthe technicians could tell you. It's called electro--electro freezingor something like that."
"Electrodiaphoresis?"
Douglas nodded. "That sounds like it. I don't know anything aboutit. One of Grandfather's men did the basic work. We just followinstructions." He shrugged. "Well--since you know the secret there's nosense in hiding the bodies. Come along and tell me what's wrong."
It was a peculiar feeling to walk down the row of cubical rooms withtheir barred doors. The whole area reminded him of a historical novel,of the prisons of early human history where men confined other men forinfractions of social customs. The grimness of the place was appalling.The male Lani--impressive in their physical development--were inmiserable condition, nauseated, green-faced, retching. The sickeningodors of vomit and diarrhea hung heavily on the air. Douglas coughed andheld a square of cloth to his face, and even Kennon, strong-stomachedas he was, could feel his viscera twitch in sympathy with the cagedsufferers.
"Great Fleming, man!" Kennon exploded. "You can't keep them here. Getthem out! Give them some fresh air! This place would make a well mansick."
Douglas looked at him, "I wouldn't take one of them out unless I had himshackled and there was an armed guard to help me. Those males are themost vicious, cunning, and dangerous animals on Kardon. They exist withbut one thought in mind--to kill!"
Kennon looked curiously through a barred door at one of the Lani. He layon a bare cot, a magnificently muscled figure with a ragged black beardhiding his face. There were dozens of scars on his body and one angrypurple area on his thick right forearm where flesh had been torn awaynot too long ago. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and softmoaning noises came from his tight lips as he pressed his abdomen withthick-fingered hands. "He doesn't look so dangerous," Kennon said.
"Watch it!" Douglas warned. "Don't get too close!" But the warning wastoo late. Kennon touched the bars, and as he did, the Lani moved withfluid speed, one huge hand clutching Kennon's sleeve and pulling himagainst the bars while the other darted for his throat. Fingers bitinto Kennon's neck and tightened in a viselike grip. Kennon reactedautomatically. His arms came up inside the Lani's and crashed down,elbows out, tearing the Lani loose. He jumped back, rubbing his br
uisedthroat. "That fellow's not sick!" he gasped. "He's crazy!"
The Lani glared at him through the bars, disappointment written on hisscarred and bearded face.
"I warned you," Douglas said. His voice held an undertone of maliciouslaughter. "He must be sick or he would have killed you. George is cleverin a stupid sort of way."
Kennon looked into the cubicle. The Lani glared back and growled. Therewas a beastlike note in his voice that made the short hairs on Kennon'sneck prickle.
"That fellow needs a lesson," he said.
"You want to give it to him?" Douglas asked.
"Not particularly."
"Ha!--man!--you afraid!" the Lani taunted. His voice was thick andharsh. "All men fear me. All Lani, too. I am boss. Come close again manand I kill you!"
"Are they all that stupid?" Kennon asked. "He sounds like a homicidalmoron."
"He's not stupid," Douglas said. "Just uneducated."
"Why is he so murderous?"
"That's his training. All his life he has fought. From childhood hislife has been based on his ability to survive in an environment whereevery male is his enemy. You see here the sublimation of individuality.He cannot co-operate with another male. He hates them, and they in turnhate him. George, here, is a perfect example of absolute freedom fromrestraint." Douglas smiled unpleasantly.
"His whole history is one of complete lack of control. As an infant,being a male, his mother thought she was favored by the gods and shedenied him nothing. In fact we were quite insistent that she gave himeverything he wanted. By the time he was able to walk and take care ofhimself, he was completely spoiled, selfish, and authoritative.
"Then we took him and a dozen others exactly like him and put themtogether." Douglas grinned. "You should see what happens when a dozenspoiled brats are forced to live together. It's more fun. The littlebeasts hate each other on sight. And we stimulate them to compete fortoys, food, and drink. Never quite enough to go around. You can imaginewhat happens. Instead of sharing, each little selfish individualistfights to get everything he can grab. Except for one thing wedon't punish them no matter what they do. If anyone shows signs ofco-operating he is disciplined severely, the first time. The next time,he is culled. But other than that, we leave them alone. They developtheir personalities and their muscles--and if one proves to be toomuch for his fellows we transfer him to a more advanced class where thecompetition is keener, and he learns what it is to lose.
"At puberty we add sex drive to the basics, and by the time our malereaches maturity we have something like George. Actually, George ismore mature than either you or I. He has all the answers he needs. He'sstrong, solitary, authoritative, and selfish. He has no curiosity andresents encroachment. He's a complete individualist. If he proves out heshould make an excellent sire."
"But isn't he dangerous to handle?" Kennon asked.
"Yes, but we take precautions."
Kennon grimaced with distaste.
"Look at it objectively," Douglas said. "We're trying to select the bestphysical type we can in the hope that he'll pass his qualities to hisoffspring, and there's no better practical way to select the strongestand hardiest than by natural selection. We control their environmentas little as possible and let Nature do our educating until they're oldenough to be useful.
"Naturally, there are some things which we cannot provide, such asexposure to disease, to the elements, and to predators. The one isn'tselective about whom it infects, while the others would tend to produceco-operation as a matter of survival."
"Isn't there a great deal of mortality under such a regimen?" Kennonasked.
"Not as much as you might expect. It's about twenty per cent. And thereis a great deal of compensation from a management viewpoint. We getessentially the same physical end product as we would from a closelymanaged operation, plus a great saving in labor. Males, you see, arefairly expendable. We only need a few a year."
"It's brutal."
"So it is, but life is brutal. Still, it's efficient for our purposes.We merely take advantage of natural impulses to produce a betterproduct. Grandfather got the idea out of an old book--something aboutthe noble savage, natural selection and survival of the fittest. Hethought it was great--said there was nothing like relentless competitionto bring out the strongest and hardiest types. And he's been right forcenturies. Can you imagine anything much better than George--from aphysical viewpoint?"
"He is a magnificent animal," Kennon admitted as he eyed the Lani. "Butit seems to me that you could train some obedience into him."
Douglas shook his head. "That would introduce a modifying factor,something bigger and more powerful than the male himself. And that wouldmodify the results. We can control them well enough with knockout gasand shackles. And those things, oddly enough, don't destroy their prideor self-esteem. They think that we use them because we are afraid, andit satisfies their egos."
Kennon eyed the caged Lani dubiously. "This is going to be difficult.I must examine them and treat them, but if they're all as homicidal asthis one--"
"You fight me man," George interrupted, his face twisted into lines oftransparent guile. "I am boss and others do as I say. You beat me, thenyou are boss."
"Is this true?" Kennon asked.
"Oh, it's true enough," Douglas said. "George is the leader and if youbeat him you'd be top male until some other one got courage enough tochallenge you. But he's just trying to get his hands on you. He'd liketo kill."
Kennon looked at the big humanoid appraisingly. George was huge,at least five centimeters taller and fifteen kilograms heavier thanhimself. And he was all muscle. "I don't think I'd care to accept thatchallenge unless I was forced to," Kennon said.
Douglas chuckled. "I don't blame you."
Kennon sighed. "It looks like we are going to need reinforcements toget these brutes under control. I'm not going in there with them, and Ican't examine them from out here."
"Oh, we can hold them all right. Paralysis gas and shackles will keepthem quiet. There's no need to bother the troopers. We can handle thisby ourselves."
Kennon shrugged. "It's your baby. You should know what you're doing."
"I do," Douglas said confidently. "Wait here until I get the gascapsules and the equipment." He turned and walked back to the entranceto the cell block. At the iris he turned. "Be careful," he said.
"Don't worry, I will." Kennon looked at George through the bars and thehumanoid glared back, his eyes bright with hatred. Kennon felt theshort hairs prickle along the back of his neck. George roused a primalemotion--an elemental dislike that was deeper than reason--an antagonismintensely physical, almost overpowering--a purely adrenal response thathad no business in the make-up of a civilized human.
He had thought the Lani had a number of human traits until he hadencountered George. But if George was a typical male--then the Lani werealien. He flexed his muscles and stared coldly into the burning blueeyes behind the bars. There would be considerable satisfaction inbeating this monstrosity to a quivering pulp. Millennia of humanpre-eminence--of belief that nothing, no matter how big or muscular,should fail to recognize that a man's person was inviolate--fed thefuel of his anger. The most ferocious beasts on ten thousand worldshad learned this lesson. And yet this animal had laid hands on himwith intent to kill. A cold corner of his mind kept telling him that hewasn't behaving rationally, but he disregarded it. George was a walkingneed for a lesson in manners.
"Don't get the idea that I'm afraid of you--you overmuscled oaf," Kennonsnapped. "I can handle you or anyone like you. And if you put your handson me again I'll beat you within an inch of your worthless life."
The Lani snarled. "Let me out and I kill you. But you are like all men.You use gun and iron--not fair fight."
Douglas returned with a gas capsule and a set of shackles. "All right,"he said. "We're ready for him." He handed Kennon the shackles and a keyto the cell door--and drew his Burkholtz.
"See," the Lani growled. "It is as I say. Men are cowards."
"You know gun?" Douglas asked as he pointed the muzzle of the Burkholtzat the Lani.
"I know," George growled. "Gun kill."
"It does indeed," Douglas said. "Now get back--clear back against thewall."
George snarled but didn't move.
"I'll count three," Douglas said, "and if you're not back by thenI'll burn you down. You'll obey even if you won't do anythingelse.--one--two--"
George retreated to the far end of his cell.
"Now face the wall." Douglas tossed the gas capsule into the cell. Thethin-walled container broke, releasing a cloud of vapor. Georgecrumpled to the floor. "Now we wait a couple of minutes for the gas todissipate," Douglas said. "After that he's all yours. You can go in andput the irons on him."
"Will he be out long?" Kennon asked.
"About five minutes. After that he'll have muscular control." Douglaschuckled. "They're stupid," he said. "They know what gas does to them,but they never have sense enough to hold their breath. They could betwice as much trouble as they are. All right, it's safe to go in now."Douglas let the gun dangle in his hand.
Kennon unlocked the door.
And George rolled over, muscles bunched and driving! He hit the doorwith such force that Kennon was slammed against the wall, dazed--halfstunned by the speed of the attack. George--he had time to think in onebrief flash--wasn't stupid. He had held his breath for the necessary twominutes!
Douglas jerked the blaster up and fired, but his target was too quick.George dropped and rolled. The sizzling streak of violet flashed inchesabove his body and tore a six-inch hole through the back of the cell.And then George was on him! The huge, marvelously fast hands of thehumanoid wrenched the blaster out of Douglas's hands and jerked himforward. A scream burst from Douglas as George's hands closed around hisneck. Muscles sprang into writhing life in the humanoid's huge forearms.There was a soft, brittle crack, and Douglas sagged limp in the irongrip that held him dangling.
"Faugh!" George grunted. He dropped Douglas as Kennon pushed the doorback and came out into the passageway. "Maybe you make better fight,"George said as he lowered his head into the muscular mass of his broadshoulders.
Kennon eyed him appraisingly, swinging the irons in his right hand.
This time the Lani didn't charge. He moved slowly, half crouched, longarms held slightly forward. Kennon backed away, watching the humanoid'seyes for that telltale flicker of the pupils that gives warningof attack. The expression on George's face never changed. It wassatisfied--smug almost--reflecting the feelings of a brute conditionedto kill and given an opportunity to do so. The Lani radiated confidence.
Kennon shivered involuntarily. He wasn't frightened, but he had nevermet an opponent like this. A chill raced up the back of his legs andspread over his stomach and chest. His mouth was dry and his musclesquivered with tense anticipation. But his concentration never wavered.His hard blue eyes never left George's, searching with microscopicintentness for the faintest sign of the Lani's intentions.
George charged--hands reaching for Kennon's throat, face twisted in asnarl of rage and hate. But even as he charged Kennon moved. He duckedbeneath the Lani's outstretched hands and drove his left fist deep intoGeorge's belly just below the breastbone.
Air whistled out of the Lani's gaping mouth as he bent double from thepower of the blow. Kennon clipped him on the chin with a driving knee,snapping George's head back and smashed the bearded face with theshackles. Blood spurted and George screamed with rage. One of the Lani'sbig hands wrapped around the shackles and tugged. Kennon let go anddrove another left to George's ribs.
The Lani threw the irons at Kennon, but his aim was poor. One of thehandcuff rings scraped across Kennon's cheek, but did nothing morethan break the skin. Half paralyzed by the blows to his solar plexus,George's co-ordination was badly impaired. But he kept trying. Kennonwrapped lean fingers about one of George's outstretched hands, bent,pivoted, and slammed the Lani with bone-crushing force against the barsof a nearby cell. But George didn't go down. "He's more brute than man,"Kennon thought. "No man could take a beating like that!" He moved asidefrom George's stumbling rush, feeling a twinge of pity for the batteredhumanoid. It was no contest. Strong as he was, George didn't know therudiments of hand-to-hand fighting. His reactions were those of ananimal, to close, clutch, bite, and tear. Even if he were completelywell, the results would have been the same. It would merely have takenlonger. Kennon drove a vicious judo chop to the junction of the Lani'sneck and shoulder. Brute strength was no match for the highly evolvedmayhem that every spaceman learns as a necessary part of his trade.George had never been on planet leave in a spaceport town. He knewnothing about the dives, the crimps, the hostile port police. His ideaof fighting was that of a beast, but Kennon was a civilized man to whomfighting was an art perfected by millennia of warfare. And Kennon knewhis trade.
Even so it took longer than Kennon expected because George was big,George was strong, and George had courage and pride that kept him comingas long as the blazing will behind his blazing eyes could drive hisbattered body. But the end was inevitable.
Kennon looked at his bloody arm where George's teeth had reached theirmark. It was hardly more than a scratch, but it had been close. Georgehad his lesson and Kennon felt oddly degraded. He sighed, dragged Georgeback into the cell, and locked the door.
Then he turned to Douglas. The howls of hate from the caged Lani died toa sullen silence as Kennon gently examined the limp body.
Douglas wasn't dead. His neck was dislocated, not broken, but he was inserious condition. Kennon was still bending over Douglas wondering howto call for help when three guards burst through the door, faces grim,weapons at the ready.
"What's going on here?" the leader demanded. "The board showed anopen door down here." He saw the body--"Mr. Douglas!" he gasped. "Thecommandant will have to know about this!" He took a communicator fromhis waist belt and spoke rapidly into it. "Arleson in stud cell block,"he said. "Attempted escape. One casualty--Douglas Alexander--yes,that's right. No--he's not dead. Send a litter and bearers. Inform thecommandant. I am making investigation on the spot. Out." He turned tolook coldly at Kennon.
"Who are you--and what happened here?" he asked.
Kennon told him.
"You mean you took George!" Arleson said.
"Look in his cell if you don't believe me."
The soldier looked and then turned hack to Kennon. There was awedrespect in his hard brown eyes. "You did that!--to him! Man, you're afighter," he said in an unbelieving voice.
A stretcher detail manned by two sober-faced Lani females came in,loaded Douglas's body on the stretcher, and silently bore it away.
"Douglas was a fool," Arleson said. "He knew we never handle this kindwithout maximum restraint. I wonder why he did it?"
"I couldn't say. He told me that gas and shackles would hold him."
"He knew better. These Lani know gas capsules. All George had to do washold his breath. In that cell George would have killed you. You couldn'thave stayed away from him."
Kennon shrugged. Maybe that was what Douglas had wanted. Kennon sighed.He didn't have the answer. And it could just be that Douglas had triedto show off. Well, he would pay for it. He'd have a stiff neck formonths, and perhaps that was a proper way to end it.
* * *
Commander Mullins, a thin gray-faced man with the hard cold eyes ofa professional soldier, came into the corridor followed by anothertrooper.
His eyes took in the wreckage that had been George, the split lips,the smashed nose, the puffed eyes, the cuts and bruises, and then rakedacross Kennon.
"Spaceman--hey?" he asked. "I've seen work like that before."
Kennon nodded. "I was once. I'm station veterinarian now. Douglas calledme over--said it was an emergency."
Mullins nodded.
"Well--why aren't you tending to it?"
"I have to examine them," Kennon said gesturing at the cells. "And Idon't want any more trouble like this."
"Don't worry. You won't hav
e it. Now that you've beaten George, you'llhave no trouble at all. You're top dog." Mullins gestured at the cages."They'll be good for a while. Now you'd better get on with your work.There's been enough disruption of routine for today. The men will helpyou."
* * *
Kennon checked in at the commandant's office before he left for the mainisland.
"How is Douglas?" he asked.
"He's alive," Mullins said. "We flew him to Albertsville--and goodriddance. How are the Lani?"
"They'll be all right," Kennon said. "It's just food poisoning. Isuggest you check your kitchen and your food handlers. There's a breakin sanitation that could incapacitate your whole command. I found a fewthings wrong but there are probably more."
"I'll check on it--and thanks for the advice," Mullins said. "Sit down,Doctor. Your airboat won't be serviced for another few minutes. Tell mehow things are on the main island. How's Blalok?"
"You know him?"
"Of course. I used to be a frequent visitor there. But with that youngpup here, I couldn't leave. I didn't dare to. He'd have disruptedroutine in a single day. Look what he did in half an hour. Frankly, Iowe you a debt for getting him off my hands." Mullins chuckled dryly.
"That's a fine thing to say," Kennon grinned. "But I can sympathize. Ittook us two months to straighten out Alexandria after the Boss-man senthim here."
"I heard about that."
"Well--we're under control now. Things are going pretty smoothly."
"They'll be better here," Mullins said. "Now that Douglas is gone." Heshrugged. "I hope the Boss doesn't send him back. He's hard to handleand he makes discipline a problem."
"Could you tell me--or would it be violating security?" Kennon said."Why do you have a Class II installation on full war footing out here?"
Mullins chuckled. "It's no secret," he said. "There was a commercialraid on this place about fifty years ago. Seems as though one of ourcompetitors didn't like us. Alexandria was on a war footing then andmanaged to hold them off. But it scared the Old Man. You see, ourcompetitive position is based on Lani labor. Our competitors didn't knowthat. Their intelligence wasn't so good. Up until that time, we'd beenkeeping the males out here in what was hardly more than a stockade.Those people could have taken a few dozen females and a couple of malesand they'd have been in business. But they didn't know. They tried tosmash Alexandria instead. Naturally they didn't have a chance. And afterit was over the Old Man got smart. He still had the tapes for Alexandriaso he built a duplicate out here and spent a few millions on modernarmament. The way we're set now it'd take a battle group to hurt us."
"But how about security? Don't the others know about the Lani now?"
"It's a moot question. But it won't do them any good. They can't crackthis place, and without males, all the females on Flora wouldn't dothem enough long-term good to pay for the force they'd need to besuccessful."
"So that's why the males are isolated."
"There's another reason--two of them in fact. One is physical. Eventhe best male is a dangerous beast. They have a flair for violence thatmakes them useless as labor and their training doesn't help matters.And the other is mental. The females on the main island believe that wehumans are responsible for the continuation of their breed. This tendsto keep them in line. We have a great deal more trouble with them outhere once they know the truth. We've had a number of cases of femalestrying to engineer a male's escape. But they're never repeated," Mullinssaid grimly. "Actually, it would be an interesting life out here, exceptfor the abattoir." He grimaced. "That's an unpleasant chore."
"You mean--" Kennon said.
"Why, certainly. What else could we do with senile animals?"
"But that's murder!"
Mullins shook his head. "No more than killing a cow for beef."
"You know," Kennon said, "I've never thought of what happened to agedLani. Sure, I've never seen one, but--Lord Lister!--I'm a fool."
"You'll get used to the idea," Mullins said. "They aren't human, andexcept for a few, they aren't as intelligent as a Santosian Varl. I knowthat they look like us except for those tails, but that's as far as itgoes. I've spent two hundred years with them and I know what I'm talkingabout."
"That's what Alexander says."
"He should know. He's lived with them all his life."
"Well--perhaps. But I'm not convinced."
"Neither was Old Doc--not until the day he died."
"Did he change then?"
"I don't know. I wasn't there. But Old Doc was a stubborn cuss."
Kennon stood up. "I've given instructions for treatment to yourcorpsman," he said. "Now I think I'd better be getting back. I have somereports to finish."
Mullins smiled grimly. "You know," he said, "I get the feeling that youdon't approve of this operation."
"Frankly, I don't," Kennon said, "but I signed a contract." He turnedtoward the door and gestured to the two Lani who waited outside with hisbags. "I can find my way to the roof," he said.
"Well--good luck," Mullins said. "We'll call you again if we need you."
"Do that," Kennon replied. He wanted to leave, to get away from thisplace and back to the main island. He wanted to see Copper. He'd bedamned if anyone was going to butcher her. If he had to stay here untilshe died of old age, he'd do it. But nobody was going to hurt her.
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