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Updated: May 19, 2025
In a way it was poetry the fierce, vaguely disquieting poetry of the sensual Santosian bards the lyrics that sung of the joys of flesh. He had never really liked them, yet they filled him with a vague longing, an odd uneasiness just the sort that filled him now. There was a deadly parallel here. He sighed. "Yes, sir? Do you want something?" Copper asked. "I could use a cup of coffee," he said.
"I wouldn't know unless you've hired a Santosian or someone else who was affected." "We did have a man from Santos. Fellow called Joe Kryla. We had to let him go because he was a nudist. It made a bad impression on the Lani. But that was over a year ago." "That's about the right time to build up a good reservoir of infection.
"Why the quarantine?" Jordan asked. "I want to get any carriers. We can check them with antigen, and then give Trematox." "All that concentration in Bay Ten," Jordan said. "Does it mean something?" "Blalok said that there was a Santosian in your division." "Yeah Joe Kryla and come to think of it, he ran Bay Ten!" "That's a help now let's see what makes that bay different from the others." "Why?"
"No more than killing a cow for beef." "You know," Kennon said, "I've never thought of what happened to aged Lani. 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, and except for a few, they aren't as intelligent as a Santosian Varl. I know that they look like us except for those tails, but that's as far as it goes.
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