“Against your gale of wind I would be but a faint breeze,” Kennon said coldly. He turned to the interne. “I’m Dr. Kennon.” They bowed formally to each other. “I’m Smalley, sir, from the medical center. Dr. Brainard sends his compliments and requests that you join him for consultation.” “The Port Captain--” Kennon began. “Don’t worry about it, Doctor. I’ll relinquish responsibility to Dr. Brainard,” the Captain said. “I have placed a formal written request with your office,” Smalley said stiffly. “You are relieved of further charge. Dr. Kennon is urgently needed. It is a matter of medicine.” The Captain looked relieved. On Beta it was poor policy to interfere with the doings of doctors and engineers--or even doctors of philosophy. “Very well. He’s yours--and I’m glad to be rid of him.” The Port Captain bowed to Kennon and Smalley and stalked out of the office. “Pompous little man,” Kennon observed, “but he certainly can talk.” “Oh--you know these Administrative people,” the interne said depreciatingly. “One mustn’t mind them. They’re necessary nuisances.” He eyed Kennon curiously. “How is it that you didn’t stand on your professional rights?” “I have my reasons--but they have nothing to do with medicine.” “Oh--I see. Ethical.” The interne’s voice was faintly sarcastic. “Manners, Doctor--manners.” Kennon’s voice was gentle but the interne flushed a dull red. “Sorry, sir.” “Don’t mention it. It’s normal for a graduate to confuse liberty with license.” Kennon smiled. “Don’t worry. I shan’t report you.” “That’s good of you, sir.” Smalley’s face registered relief. Demerits were difficult to erase--particularly ones of courtesy. Kennon wondered if the young man would report himself. He doubted it. The interne didn’t look the type--probably he was dated for some obscure job, like a general practitioner. He shrugged. It took all kinds to make a profession. Even the Smalleys had their place. “That girl you brought in,” Smalley said as they entered a white car emblazoned with the three crosses, red, blue, and green, that represented the three fields of medicine. “She’s an interesting case. I’ve never seen space shock before. And the patient herself--one would hardly believe she was a Betan.” “She isn’t,” Kennon said. “So?” Blond eyebrows rose in inverted U’s of surprise. “But that’s hardly possible. Our tests indicate-” “Don’t you think that this is a matter for Dr. Brainard?” Kennon said icily. “Protocol--” “Of course. Stupid of me--but the case is so interesting. Half the center staff have seen her already. I wasn’t proposing to discuss the case. It wouldn’t be proper. Even though you are only a veterinarian.” “Only?” Kennon’s voice was hard. “I shouldn’t have to remind you of this, Mr. Smalley--but I have been for the past two years on a world of bad manners. I expected better here at home.” Smalley flushed to the roots of his straw-colored hair. “Sorry, Doctor,” he muttered. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”