Three Classic SF Novels: Plague Ship; Operation Terror; The Lani People

by Andre Norton, Murray Leinster, J. F. Bone

  “That Douglas!” Alexander growled. “Leave that young fool alone here for six months and he'd disrupt the entire operation. The nerve of that young pup-requisitioning an experimental type for household labor. Just what does he think he's doing?"

  The question obviously didn't demand a reply, so Kennon kept discreetly silent as Alexander crossed the room to the two doors flanking the couch on which the Lani had sat. He opened the left-hand one revealing a modern grav-shaft that carried them swiftly to the uppermost level. They walked down a short corridor and stopped before another door. It opened into a suite furnished with stark functional simplicity. It fitted the entrepreneur's outward personality so exactly that Kennon had no doubt that this was Alexander's quarters.

  “Sit down, Kennon. Relax while you can,” Alexander said as he dropped into a chair and crossed his sandaled feet.

  “I'm sure you have many questions, but they can wait."

  You might as well get some rest. You'll have little enough later. The Family will probably put you through the meat grinder, but remember that they don't control this business. You're my man."

  Kennon had hardly seated himself in another chair when the door opened and a plump pink-skinned Lani entered. She was considerably older than the silver-haired one he had seen earlier, and her round face was smiling.

  “Ah, Goldie,” Alexander said. “I understand Man Douglas has been giving you quite a time."

  “It's high time you came back, sir,” she said. “Since Old Doc died, Man Douglas has been impossible. He's been culling the staff and replacing them with empty-headed fillies whose only claim to usefulness is that they can fill out a halter. Pretty soon this place will be a pigsty."

  “I'll take care of that,” Alexander promised. “Now I'd like you to meet Old Doc's replacement. This is Dr. Kennon, our new veterinarian."

  “Pleased, I'm sure,” Goldie said. “You look like a nice man."

  “He is,” Alexander said, “but he's just as hard as Old Doc-and he'll have the same powers. Goldie's the head housekeeper,” Alexander added. “She's an expert, and you'd do well to take her advice on assignments."

  Kennon nodded.

  “Have a maid bring us a light meal and something to drink,” Alexander said. “Have a couple of porters take Dr. Kennon's things to Old Doc's house. Find Man Douglas and tell him I want to see him at once. Tell the Family that I've arrived and will see them in the Main Lounge at eight tonight. Tell Blalok I'll be seeing him at nine. That's all."

  “Yes, sir,” Goldie said and left the room, her tail curling buoyantly.

  “A good Lani,” Alexander commented. “One of the best. Loyal, trustworthy, intelligent. She's been running Alexandria for the past ten years, and should be good for at least ten more."

  “Ten?-how old is she?"

  “Thirty."

  “Thirty-years?"

  Alexander nodded.

  “Good Lord Lister! I'd have guessed her at least three hundred!"

  “Wrong life scale. Lani only live about one tenth as long as we do. They're mature at twelve and dead at fifty."

  Alexander sighed. “That's another difference. Even without agerone we'd live to be a hundred."

  “Have you tried gerontological injections?"

  “Once. They produced death in about two days. Killed five Lani with them.” Alexander's face darkened at an unpleasant memory. “So we don't try any more,” he said. “There are too many differences.” He stretched. “I'd tell you more about them but it'll be better to hear it from Evald Blalok. He's our superintendent. Steve Jordan can tell you a lot, too. He runs the Lani Division. But right now let's wait for Cousin Douglas. The pup will take his time about coming-but he'll do it in the end. He's afraid not to."

  “I'd rather not,” Kennon said. “It's poor manners to be injected into a family affair-especially when I'm just one of the employees."

  “You're not just one of the employees. You are the Station Veterinarian, and as such you hold an authority second only to Blalok and myself. You and Blalok are my hands, ears, and eyes on Flora. You are responsible to me-and to me alone. While I defer at times to the desires of the Family, I do not have to. I run Outworld Enterprises and all the extensions of that organization. I possess control—and the Family knows it. My men are respected and furthermore they know everything that goes on.” He smiled icily. “In a way it's quite a healthy situation. It keeps my relatives under control. Somehow they dislike being disciplined before outsiders. Now think no more about it.” Alexander stood up and walked over to one of the windows opening onto the broad roof gardens, and stood looking at the sun-drenched greenery.

  “Odd, isn't it,” Alexander said, “how beautiful nature is and how simple things are in a state of nature. It's only when man interjects himself onto a scene that things get complicated. Take Flora for instance. Before Grandfather came here, it must have been a pleasant place with the simple natives happy in their paradise. But that's all changed now. We have taken over-and they, like other lesser creatures on other worlds, have been bent to our will and uses. I could pity them, but being human I cannot afford that luxury."

  Kennon understood. He, too, had felt that sensation, that odd tightening of the throat when he first saw a Varl on Santos. The Varl had been the dominant life form there until men had come. Now they were just another animal added to humanity's growing list of pets and livestock. The little Varl with their soft-furred bodies and clever six-fingered hands made excellent pets and precision workmen. The products of those clever hands, the tiny instruments, the delicate microminiaturized control circuits, the incredibly fine lacework and tapestries, formed the bulk of Santos’ interstellar trade.

  He had owned a Varl once and had delighted in its almost human intelligence. But the Varl weren't human and there lay their tragedy. Two thousand years of human domination had left them completely dependent on their conquerors. They were merely intelligent animals-and that was all they would ever be until the human race changed its cultural pattern or was overthrown. The one alternative was as unlikely as the other. Humanity had met some fierce competitors, but none with its explosive acquisitive nature, and none with its drive to conquer, colonize, and rule. And probably it never would.

  The little Varl were one race among hundreds that had fallen before the fierceness and the greed of men. But unlike most others, the Varl were not combative. Therefore they had survived.

  Yet had it been necessary to reduce them to slavery? They would never be a threat. Not only were they essentially gentle and noncombative, but their delicate bodies could not stand the strains of spaceflight. They were trapped on their world. Why should they be forced into so subordinate a role?-Why was humanity so jealous of its dominance that no other species could exist except by sufferance? Why after five thousand years of exploration, invasion, and colonization did the human race still consider the galaxy as its oyster, and themselves uniquely qualified to hold the knife? He hadn't thought this way since he had given the Varl to his girl friend of the moment, and had blasted off for Beta. Now the questions returned to haunt him. 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. And behind the view wall of Alexander's apartment Kardon's brilliant yellow sun sank slowly toward the horizon, filling the sky with flaming colors of red and gold, rimmed by the blues and purples of approaching night. The sunset was gaudy and blatant, Kennon thought with mild distaste, unlike the restful day-end displays of his homeworld.

  * * *

  CHAPTER IV.

  Douglas Alexander was a puffy-faced youngster with small intolerant eyes set in folds of fat above a button nose and a loose-lipped sensual mouth. There was an odd expression of defiance overlaid with fear on his pudgy features. Looking at him, Kennon was reminded
of a frightened dog, ready either to bite or cower.

  But it wasn't Douglas who held his eye. It was the two Lani who followed him into the room. Every line of their bodies was perfection that spoke volumes about generations of breeding for physical elegance. They moved with a co-ordinated grace that made Douglas look even more clumsy by contrast. And they were identical, twin cream-and-gold works of art. They were completely nude-and Kennon for the first time in his life fully appreciated the beauty of an unclad female. To cover them would be sacrilege, and ornaments would only detract from their exquisite perfection.

  Kennon knew that he was staring like an idiot. Alexander's amused smile told him that much. With an effort he composed his startled features.

  The pair looked at him with soft violet eyes-and it was as though some psychic bathhouse attendant had poured ice water down his spine. For he had seen that look before, that liquid introspective look in the velvet eyes of cattle. He shivered. For a moment he had been thinking of them as human. And somehow the lack of that indefinable some thing called humanity robbed them of much of their glamour. They were still beautiful, but their beauty had become impersonal.

  “Don't take these as representative of the Lani,” Alexander said suddenly. “They're a special case, a very special case.” He glared at his cousin. “Damn your impudence,” he said without beat. “I sent for you-not your toys. Send them away."

  Douglas sulkily thrust out his lower lip. “You can't talk to me like that, Cousin Alex,” he began. “I'm just a"

  “You head me, Douglas. Out!” Alexander's voice didn't rise but it cut like a whip.

  “Oh, very well,” Douglas said. “I can't fight you-yet.” He turned to the humanoids. “You heard the Boss-man. Go home."

  The two nodded in unison and departed quickly. Somehow Kennon got the impression that they were happy to leave.

  “Just wait,” Douglas said. “You can't boss me forever. Just wait. I'll reach my majority in five years. I can vote my shares then-and then I'll fix you. You won't be so high and mighty then, Mr. Big. I'll throw in with the rest of the Family. They don't like you too much."

  “Don't hold your breath waiting for the Family to help you,” Alexander said. “They wouldn't have anyone else but me handle the finances. They love money too much. And until you get your inheritance remember one thing-I'm master here."

  “I know it,” Douglas said, and then curiously-"Who's the oddball?” He gestured at Kennon with a pudgy thumb.

  “Our new veterinarian, Dr. Kennon."

  “Oh-great! Now you tell me!"

  “There's nothing like making a good first impression,” Alexander said with ironic emphasis. “I hope he cuts you off from the Lani. He'll have the authority to do it, since he's taking Old Doc's place."

  “He can't. I'm an owner. I own—"

  “You own nothing. You're a minor. And under the terms of Grandfather's will, you'll own nothing except an allowance until you reach legal age. And that brings me to the reason I brought you here. Just when did you gain the right to reorganize the household staff? Just when did you get the power to interfere with the experimental program?"

  Douglas flushed dull red and bit his lip. “Do we have to go into this in front of strangers?"

  “Kennon's my agent,” Alexander said coldly, “and he might as well learn about you and the others from the start."

  “Well-what do you want him to do-watch me crawl?” Douglas asked bitterly. “You'll make me do it. You always do. Do you want me to beg, to say I was wrong, to promise I won't do it again?"

  “You've done that already,” Alexander said. “Several times. You need a lesson. I won't have you meddling with valuable animals."

  “And what are you going to do about it?"

  “Put you where you can do no more damage. As of tomorrow you'll go to Otpen One."

  Douglas paled. His lips quivered, and his eyes flicked uneasily as he watched Alexander's granite face. “You don't mean that,” he said finally. “You're joking."

  “I never joke about business."

  “But you can't do that! I'll tell the Family. They won't let you."

  “I already have their consent,” Alexander said. “I obtained it after your last escapade. You'll be happy out there. You can play tin god all you like. Master of life and death on a two-acre island. No one will mind. You can also go to work. No one will mind that, either. And Mullins won't mind as long as you leave the troops alone. Now get out of here and get packed. You're leaving tomorrow morning."

  “But cousin Alex—"

  “Move! I'm tired of the sight of you!” Alexander said.

  Douglas turned and shambled out of the room. His ego was thoroughly deflated and he seemed more frightened than before. Obviously the Otpens weren't the pleasantest place in this world.

  “They're a military post,” Alexander said. “And Commander Mullins doesn't like Douglas. Can't say that I blame him. Douglas is a thoroughly unpleasant specimen, and incidentally quite typical of the rest of the Family.” Alexander sighed and spread his hands in a gesture that combined disgust and resignation. “Sometimes I wonder why I have been cursed with my relatives."

  Kennon nodded. The implications behind the empty eyes of Douglas's Lani sickened him. There were several ways to produce that expression, all of them unpleasant. Hypnoconditioning, the Quiet Treatment, brainburning, transorbital leukotomy, lobectomy—all of the products of that diseased period of humanity's thinking when men tampered with the brains of other men in an effort to cure psychic states. Psychiatry had passed that period, at least on the civilized worlds, where even animal experiments were frowned upon as unnecessary cruelty.

  “You saw those two Lani,” Alexander said. “Grandfather had them made that way as a birthday present for Douglas. He was getting senile. He died a year later. You'd think a man would be ashamed to keep things like that around—but not Douglas. He likes them.” Alexander's voice was tinged with contempt. “He knows they disgust me—so he parades them in. I could strangle that pup sometimes!"

  “I wondered about it. I wouldn't like to work for a man who permitted such things."

  “That was done before I took over. For the past three years there have been no dockings, no mutilations. I can't see treating a helpless animal like that."

  “I feel better about it,” Kennon said. “I didn't think you were that sort."

  “Understand me,” Alexander said. “I'm always opposed to senseless cruelty and waste—particularly when it's dangerous. Docked Lani are the height of stupidity. Just because someone wants a pet that is an exact duplicate of a human being is no reason to risk a court action. Those Lani, and a few others whose tails have been docked, could be a legal bombshell if they ever left Flora."

  Kennon was jolted. He had been thinking of mental mutilation and Alexander had been talking physical. Naturally they would be dangerous property. Anyone attempting to sell a docked Lani would probably be thrown in Detention and charged with slave trading.

  “Did you ever figure the cost of taking a legal action through our court system?” Alexander asked. “Even the small ones set you back four or five thousand, and a first-class action like a Humanity Trial could cost over a million. Grandfather found that out. Sure, there are differences between Lani and humans, but a smart lawyer can make them seem trivial until the final test and that would drag on for nearly two years until all the requirements were satisfied—and by that time the unfavorable publicity would drop sales to zero. The Family would be on my neck for lost dividends, and I'd lose much of the control I hold over them.

  “Sure, it's possible that prehensile tails could be produced by mutation, but so far as we know it hasn't happened in human history. As a result, the tail serves as a trade-mark-something that can be easily recognized by anyone. So we sell them intact.” Alexander crossed his legs and settled back in his chair. “Shocks you, doesn't it?"

  Kennon nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “It does."

  “I know. You can't help it
. Most of our new employees think the Lani are human-at first. They learn better, but adjustment is always a strain. They keep confusing external appearances with the true article. But remember this—Lani are not human. They're animals. And on this island they're treated as what they are—no more, no less. They are a part of our economics and are bred, fed, and managed according to sound livestock principles. Despite some of the things you may see here in Alexandria, don't forget that. You are a veterinarian. Your job is to handle disease problems in animals. Lani are animals. Therefore you will be doing your job. I was disappointed in your reaction when you first saw them, but I suppose it was natural. At any rate this should clear the air."

  “It does—intellectually,” Kennon admitted. “But the physical resemblance is so close that it is difficult to accept."

  Alexander smiled. “Don't worry. You'll accept it in time. Now I think it's time that you met the Family."

  * * *

  CHAPTER V.

  The main salon was crowded. The huge room, glittering with mirrors and crystal, floored with thick carpets, and hung with rich drapes, had something of the appearance of a Sarkian harem. Although there were only five of the Alexander family present, there were at least twenty Lani whose costumes ranged from the black G string and halter of the household staff to the utter nudity of Douglas's playthings. They were all female, and Kennon wondered for a moment what a male was like.

  Besides Alexander, there were two men and three women: Douglas, still with his sulky expression, an older man in his late nineties who looked like Douglas's eider brother, two mature women who could be any age from fifty to three hundred, and a girl. 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.