Kennon wondered if there were other worlds in the Brotherhood that had come to the same conclusion. Possibly there were. And possibly there were worlds where marked deviations had occurred. There wasn’t a year that passed that didn’t bring some new human world into the Brotherhood, and many of these had developed from that cultural explosion during the First Millennium known as the Exodus, where small groups of colonists in inadequate ships set out for unannounced goals to homestead new worlds for man. Some of these survived, and many were being discovered even at this late date. But so far none had any difficulty in proving their human origin. The Lani, conceivably, could have been descendants of one of these groups, which probably explained the extreme care the Brotherhood courts had taken with their case. But they had failed the test, and were declared animals. Yet it was possible that they had mutated beyond genetic compatibility. If they had, and if it were proved, here was a test case that could rock the galaxy--that could shake the Brotherhood to its very foundations--that could force a re-evaluation of the criteria of humanity. Kennon grinned. He was a fine employee. Here he was, less than a full day on the job, dreaming how he could ruin his employer, shake the foundation of human civilization, and force ten thousand billion humans to change their comfortable habit patterns and their belief in the unchangeable sameness of men. He was, he reflected wryly, an incurable romantic. CHAPTER VIII “Wake up, Doctor, it’s six A.M.” A pleasant voice cut through Kennon’s slumber. He opened one eye and looked at the room. For a moment the strange surroundings bothered him, then memory took over. He stirred uncomfortably, looking for the owner of the voice. “You have your morning calls at seven, and there’s a full day ahead,” the voice went on. “I’m sorry, sir, but you should get up.” The voice didn’t sound particularly sorry. It was behind him, Kennon decided. He rolled over with a groan of protest and looked at his tormentor. A gasp of dismay left his lips, for standing beside the bed, a half smile on her pointed face, was Copper--looking fresh and alert and as disturbing as ever. It wasn’t right, Kennon thought bitterly, to be awakened from a sound sleep by a naked humanoid who looked too human for comfort. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I’m supposed to be here,” Copper said. “I’m your secretary.” She grinned and flexed a few curves of her torso. Kennon was silent. “Is there anything wrong?” she asked. For a moment Kennon was tempted to tell her what was wrong--but he held his tongue. She probably wouldn’t understand. But there was one thing he’d better settle right now. “Now look here, young lady--” he began. “I’m not a lady,” Copper interrupted before he could continue. “Ladies are human. I’m a Lani.”