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"Regulations require that each post-mortem be reported promptly and that a record of the Lani concerned be posted in the death book together with all pertinent autopsy data. Man Blalok is very fussy about proper records." She drew one of the chairs to a spot beside the desk and sat down, crossed her long legs, and waited expectantly. Kennon's mouth was suddenly dry. This situation was impossible.
His sister's finally decided to try marriage. Found herself some overmuscled Halsite who looked good to her but she couldn't crack his moral barrier." Blalok grinned. "I thought you'd be the first to know. Wasn't she interested in you?" Kennon chuckled. "You could call it that. Interested like the way a dog's interested in a beefsteak.
The only trouble is that he fails to consider the work involved in setting up another operation." "You're so right. I'll have to brush up on pullorum, ornithosis, coccidosis, leukosis, perosis, and Ochsner knows how many other-osises and itises. I was never too strong on fowl practice in school, and I'd be happier if I never had anything to do with them." "So would I," Blalok agreed.
At any rate Douglas couldn't have gone to a better place." "What happened to him?" "He stuck his nose where he shouldn't," Kennon said pointedly. Blalok stiffened. "I'm sorry, Evald. Even if you knew, I couldn't talk about it. What I know about Douglas is classified!" "Well Douglas is doing plenty of talking. Claims his stay in the hospital was all your fault." Kennon shrugged.
Blalok grunted and started the turbine. He moved a lever and the jeep floated off the ground. "An airboat too," Kennon remarked. "I wondered why this rig was so boxy." "It's a multipurpose vehicle," Blalok said. "We need them around here for fast transport. Most of the roads aren't so good." He engaged the drive and the jeep began to move. "We'll go cross country," he said.
Blalok was waiting for him, sitting behind the wheel of a square boxy vehicle that squatted with an air of unpolished efficiency on the graveled drive behind his house. He smiled a quick greeting as Kennon approached. "It's about time you showed up," he said. "You'll have to get into the habit of rising early on this place. We do most of our work early in the morning and late in the afternoon.
The one this morning makes the fourth this month, and we're only half through it." "Are all your losses in this one station?" Kennon asked. "No but it's worst there." "I don't like losses like that," Alexander said. "Neither do I," Jordan replied. "This isn't Jordan's fault, sir," Blalok said quickly. "As you know, we haven't had a vet for three months." "Two," Alexander corrected.
"Three Old Doc wasn't around at all the month before he died," Blalok said. "As a result we've got a problem. We need professional help." "Well here he is use him," Alexander said. He looked at Kennon, a trace of amusement on his face. "There's nothing like getting into things early." "Particularly when one comes into them stone cold," Kennon added. "It's a poor way to start a career."
But it's going to take some detective work." "Where do we start?" "With Bay Ten. We look it over real well. Then we check the diet and habits of the Lani. Then we check each individual Lani. Then we check the life cycle of the parasite. Somewhere along the line if we're lucky we'll find a weak point that can be attacked." "That's a big order," Blalok said. "It can't be helped.
I was expecting something entirely different." "Sorry someone has to run the business. But Blalok'll brief you. Actually he's more qualified than I. He knows everything worth knowing about this place. We're going past his house in a minute want to stop in and see him?" "It's pretty late." "Not for Blalok. He's a Mystic a nocturnal. He's probably doing his work now."
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