“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.