“Of course. That’s why they should be protected. What chance does a Lani have? Without us they can’t even keep going as a race. They’re technological morons. They don’t live long enough to understand modern civilization. To turn those poor helpless humanoids out into human society would be criminal. It’s our duty to protect them even while we’re using them.” “Man’s burden?’ Kennon said, repeating the old cliche. “Exactly.” Blalok scowled. “I wish I had guts enough to give the Boss-man the facts--but I can’t get nerve enough to try. I’ve a good job here--a wife and two kids--and I don’t want to jeopardize my future.” Blalok glanced over the side. “Well, here we are,” he said, and began descending into the center of a spokelike mass of buildings radiating outward from a central hub. “Hmm--big place,” Kennon murmured. “It should be,” Blalok replied. “It furnishes all of our Lani for replacement and export. It can turn out over a thousand a year at full capacity. Of course we don’t run at that rate, or Flora would be overpopulated. But this is a big layout, like you said. It can maintain a population of at least forty thousand. Old Alexander had big ideas.” “I wonder what he planned to do with them?” Kennon said. “I wouldn’t know. The Old Man never took anyone into his confidence.” Jordan came up as the jeep settled to the ground. “Been expecting you for the past half hour,” he said. “Your office said you were on your way.--Good to see you, too, Doc. I’ve been going over the records with Hank Allworth--the stationmaster here.” Jordan held out his hand. “You’re an Earthman, eh?” Kennon asked as he grasped the outstretched hand. The gesture was as old as man, its ritualistic meaning lost in antiquity. “No--Marsborn--a neighbor world,” Jordan said. “But our customs and Earth’s are the same.” “You’re a long way from home,” Kennon said. “No farther than you, Doc.” Jordan looked uncomfortable. “But we can compare origins later. Right now, you’d better come into the office. I’ve run across something peculiar.” CHAPTER IX “There are twelve bays to this station,” Jordan said. “Under our present setup two are used for breeding and the other ten for maturation. We rotate the youngsters around the bay--a different bay each year until they’re age eleven. Then they’re sorted according to type and sent out for a year of further specialized training after which they go onto the farms, or to inhouse or export. “Now here’s the peculiar part. There’s no trouble in Bays One through Nine, but Bay Ten has had all our losses except two that have occurred at the training stations.” “That’s good news,” Kennon said. “Our parasite can’t have had time to migrate too far. We have him pinpointed unless--say how many training centers are there?” “Three,” Jordan said. “Quarantine them,” Kennon replied. “Right now. Nothing goes in or out until we’ve checked them and completed prophylaxis.” Jordan looked at Blalok inquiringly.