The Lani People Part 9

He had found the criminal, and now the problem a.s.sumed the fascinating qualities of a crime hunt. Now he must act to prevent further murders, to reconstruct the crime, to find the modus operandi, to track the fluke to its source, and to execute it before it could do more harm.

Photographs and tri-dis would have to be taken, the parasite would have to be identified and its sensitivity to therapy determined. Studies would have to be made on its life cycle, and the means by which it gained entrance to its host. It wouldn't be simple, because this trematode was probably Hepatodirus hominis, and it was tricky. It adapted, like the species it parasitized.

Kennon leaned back from the microscope and studied the ill.u.s.trations in the parasitology text. No matter how much Hepatodirus changed its life cycle, it could not change its adult form. The arrangements of the suckers and genital structures were typical. Old Doc's library on parasites was too inadequate for more than diagnosis. He would have to wait for his own books to be uncrated before he could do more than apply symptomatic treatment. He sighed and rose slowly to his feet. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

The door opened behind him and Copper slipped quietly into the office.

She looked at him curiously, a faint half-shy smile on her face.

"What is it?" Kennon asked.

"Are you ready to fill out the autopsy protocol? It's customary."

"It's also customary to knock on a door before entering."

"Is it? Old Doc never mentioned it."

"I'm not Old Doc."

"No, you're not," she admitted. "You're much younger--and far more beautiful. Old Doc was a fat, gray old man." She paused and eyed Kennon appraisingly with a look on her pointed face that was the virtual twin of Eloise's. "I think I'll like working for you if you're as nice as you are pretty."

"You don't call a man beautiful or pretty!" Kennon exploded.

"Why not?"

"It just isn't done."

"You're a funny human," she said. "I called Old Doc beautiful, and he didn't mind."

"That's different. He was an old man."

"What difference does that make?"

"I don't like it," Kennon said, hitting on the perfect answer.

She stiffened. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I won't do it again." She looked down at him, head c.o.c.ked sideways. "I guess I have a lot to learn about you.

You're much different from Old Doc. He didn't snap at me." She paused for a moment, then drew a deep breath.

Kennon blinked.

"About that report," she said. "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. How in the name of Sir Arthur Fleming could he dictate a coldly precise report with a naked redhead sitting beside him? "Look," he said. "I won't need you. I can operate a voicewriter. You can pick up the material later and transcribe it."

Her face fell. "You don't like me," she said, her green eyes filling with quick tears. "Old Doc never--"

"Oh, d.a.m.n Old Doc!" Kennon snapped. "And stop that sniveling--or get out. Better yet--get out and stop sniveling!"

She leaped to her feet and fled.

Kennon swore. There was no reason for him to act that way. He had been more brutal than necessary. But the girl--no, the Lani--was disconcerting. He felt ashamed of himself. He had behaved like a primitive rather than a member of one of the oldest human civilizations in the galaxy. He wouldn't bark at a dog that way. He shook his head.

Probably he was tired. Certainly he was irritable, and unclad females virtually indistinguishable from human weren't the most soothing objects to contemplate.

He wondered if his exasperation was real or merely a defense mechanism.

First Eloise, and then this! Confound it! He was surrounded! He felt trapped. And it wasn't because he'd been away from women too long. A week was hardly that. He grinned as he recalled the blonde from Thule aboard the starship. Now there was a woman, even though her ears were pointed and her arms were too long. She didn't pressure a man. She let him make the advances.

He grinned. That was it. He was on the defensive. He was the one who was being pursued--and his male ego had revolted. He shrugged and turned his attention to the autopsy report, but it was hopeless. He couldn't concentrate. He jotted a few notes and dropped them on the desk--tomorrow would be time enough. What he needed now was a stiff drink and eight hours' sleep.

CHAPTER VII

Kennon stopped at Blalok's house long enough to tell the superintendent what was causing the trouble. Blalok scowled. "We've never had flukes here before," he said. "Why should they appear now?"

"They've been introduced," Kennon said. "The thing that bothers me is how Dr. Williamson missed them."

"The old man was senile," Blalok said. "He was nearly blind the last six months of his life. I wouldn't doubt that he let his a.s.sistants do most of his work, and they could have missed them."

"Possibly, but the lesions are easy to see. At any rate, the culprit is known now."

"Culprit?"

"Hepatodirus hominis--the human liver fluke. He's a tricky little fellow--travels almost as far as men do."

"I'm glad it's your problem, not mine. All I can remember about flukes is that they're hard to eradicate."

"Particularly H. hominis."

"You can tell me about it later. Right now Mr. Alexander's over at Old--your house. Probably he's looking for you."

"Where's Jordan?"

"He went up to Station Fourteen. We'll see him tomorrow."

"I'll say good night then," Kennon said.

"I'm glad you're here. It's a load off my shoulders. See you tomorrow."

Blalok waved a friendly good night and left the lights on long enough for Kennon to make his way to his quarters.

Alexander was seated in a heavily upholstered chair listening to a taped symphony in the stereo, his eyes half closed, an expression of peace on his face. An elderly Lani stood beside him. It was a comfortable picture.

The humanoid saw Kennon and gasped, a tiny indrawn sound of surprise.

Alexander's eyes snapped open. "Oh--it's you," he said. "Don't worry, Kara--it's your new doctor."

Kara smiled. "You startled me," she said. "I was dreaming."

"On your feet?" Alexander interjected idly.

"I should have known you at once, Doctor. There's talk about you all over the yards, ever since you arrived."