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Steaming into the midst of such as these, the peril of the Cayuga, real enough, was less than it seemed; but she had to do at once with Warley's Manassas and with the Governor Moore, the vessel that Kennon commanded, and which afterward sunk the Varuna.
Stumbling over unfamiliar words and phrases, he moved slowly through the log tracing the old ship's history from pleasure craft to short-haul freight tractor to obsolescence in a space dump orbiting around a world called Heaven. There was a gap of nearly ten years indicated by a blank page before the entries resumed. "Ah this is it!" Kennon said. "What is it?" Copper said curiously.
Kennon winced at the cliche It was so ancient that it had lost all meaning. Most Betans didn't know what a horse was, let alone whether it was healthy or not. From what Kennon could remember of veterinary history, the horse wasn't too healthy an animal. It was rather delicate, in fact. "How is the child?" Kennon asked. It took a little courage to ask this question.
I shouldn't have to use examples, but look at that" he waved at the view wall at the panorama of gleaming fairy towers and greenery that made Beta City one of the most beautiful in the Brotherhood. "Don't tell me that five thousand years of peace and development haven't produced civilization. That's a concrete example out there." "It isn't," Kennon said flatly.
Kennon reacted automatically. His arms came up inside the Lani's and crashed down, elbows out, tearing the Lani loose. He jumped back, rubbing his bruised throat. "That fellow's not sick!" he gasped. "He's crazy!" The Lani glared at him through the bars, disappointment written on his scarred and bearded face. "I warned you," Douglas said. His voice held an undertone of malicious laughter.
It was the tactile, not the visual sensations that upset him. He nodded. "The abdominal viscera first," he said. The Lani laid back the skin and musculature with bold, sure strokes. An excellent prosectress, Kennon thought. Kennon pointed at the swollen liver and the Lani deftly severed its attachments and laid the organ out for inspection. The cause of death was obvious.
It was an eloquent gesture expressing disgust, resignation, and unwilling compliance in one lift of smoothly muscled shoulders. "There's no question about it," Kennon said. "You're becoming more human every day." He chuckled as he slid over the edge of the pit following the path Douglas had taken a moment before. He found him sitting on a pile of ashes, shaking his head. "What happened?"
She might have been thirty perhaps younger, perhaps older, a lean feminine edition of Alexander, with the same intriguing face and veiled predatory look. There was a hardness about her that was absent in the others. Kennon had the feeling that whatever this girl did, she didn't do it half way. "My sister Eloise," Alexander said in a low voice. "Watch out for her.
"What is this, Kennon?" he asked. "Trouble," Kennon said. He took off his hat. "I came here to settle things before you took this case to court. You obviously do not understand what has happened. I suppose Douglas has double-crossed you. It would be characteristic of him. But before we go any further I think we should clear the air and let each other know where we stand.
Then there was another thing the serological analysis revealed no gerontal antibodies. She had never received an injection of longevity compound in her life. This might occur, but it's highly improbable. The evidence indicates that she's extra-Betan." Kennon nodded. "But this business of her being fifteen years old! That's impossible. She has the development of a woman of twenty-five."
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