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They called it Heaven odd name for a fogworld but there's no accounting for tastes." Brainard chuckled. "I thought that was the case, but I couldn't remember. My ancient history is pretty weak." "You should read more," Brainard said. "But as I see it this girl is of Betan ancestry providing your theory and the facts coincide."
"And if you think this is bad wait till I start going through comparative anatomy. "What's the matter with you two?" Blalok asked. "Be quiet," Alexander snapped. "This isn't your problem. Kennon is behaving like a spoiled child!" "He's a telepath!" Kennon said. "And he didn't tell me." "So what? I've known that for years." "And you stand for it?" "I'm a Mystic, not a Betan," Blalok said.
"But the redes say " "Oh, forget those redes. I know what I'm doing. Besides, I'm a Betan and can stand more radiation than most men. A brief exposure isn't going to hurt me." "You go and I go too," Copper said desperately. "You'll stay here where it's safe," Kennon said flatly. "I'm going with you," Copper repeated. "I don't want to live without you." "I tell you I won't be hurt.
If the others knew, they would kill both of us." "Then why tell me?" he asked. "I love you," she said simply. "You wanted to know and I can deny you nothing." A wave of tenderness swept over him. She would give her life for him and what would he give? Nothing. Not even his prejudices. His face twisted. If she was only human, If she wasn't just an animal. If he wasn't a Betan. If, if, if.
"But how did you deduce she wasn't from a Betan colony?" Kennon asked. Brainard smiled. "That wasn't hard. Her sun tan and the condition of her feet proved she was a practicing nudist. No Betan girl ever practices nudism to my knowledge. Besides, the I.D. tattoo under her left arm and the V on her hip are no marks of our culture.
Betans were different and from birth they were taught to accept the difference and to live with it. Mixing of Betan stock with other human species, while not actually forbidden, was so encircled with conditioning that it was a rare Betan indeed who would risk self-opprobrium and the contempt of his fellows to mate with an outsider. And as for humanoids Kennon shuddered.
As a Betan, the haunting was even more acute, since Beta had a related problem that was already troublesome and would become more acute as the years passed. He shrugged and laid the thought aside as a slim, dark-haired Lani entered pushing a service cart ahead of her. The two men ate silently, each busy with his own thoughts.
If you're figuring that you can get along on the minimum physical effort required on the Central Worlds, you have a shock coming." "I'm not that innocent," Kennon said. "But I am not so stupid that I can't apply modifications of Betan techniques to worlds as new as this." Alexander chuckled. "I like you," he said suddenly. "Here read this and see if you'd care to work for me."
That first month had been one of the worst he had ever spent, Kennon reflected. Between Eloise and the flukes, he had nearly collapsed and when it had come to the final showdown, he thought for a while that he'd be looking for another job. But Alexander had been more than passably understanding and had refused his sister's passionate pleas for a Betan scalp.
For thousands of years back to the very dawn of history when men had bred horses and asses to produce mules men had been mixing species to produce useful hybrids. Yet a Betan who could hybridize plants or animals with complete equanimity shrank with horror from the thought of applying the same technique to himself. What was there about a human being that was so sacrosanct?
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