The Lani People, Jesse F. Bone [best reads TXT] 📗

There is a special providence that looks over recent veterinary graduates, Kennon reflected as he checked the monthly reports from the Stations. Since the time he had laid down the law to Judson and Blalok, he had had no trouble from the production staff. And for the past four months there had been no further trouble with Hepatodirus. That unwanted visitor had apparently been evicted. At that, they had been lucky. The parasite had been concentrated at Hillside Station and had failed to establish itself in the training area. The intermediate host, it had turned out, was a small amphibian that was susceptible to commercial insecticide. It had been no trouble to eradicate. Systemic treatment and cooking of all food had cleaned up the infective cercaria and individual infections, and after six months of intensive search, quarantine, and investigation, Kennon was morally certain that the disease had been eradicated. The last four reports confirmed his belief.

He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. Blalok was at last convinced that his ideas were right. The hospital was operating as a hospital should, with a staff of twelve Lani kept busy checking the full wards. Actually, it was working better than it should, since stationmasters all over the island were now shipping in sick animals rather than treating them or requesting outpatient service.

“Hi, Doc,” Blalok said as he pushed the door open and looked into the office. “You doing anything?”

“Not at the moment,” Kennon said. “Something troubling you?”

“No—just thought I’d drop in for a moment and congratulate you.”

“For what?”

“For surviving the first year.”

“That won’t be for two months yet.”

Blalok shook his head. “This is Kardon,” he said. “There’s only three hundred and two days in our year, ten thirty-day months and two special days at the year’s end.”

Kennon shrugged. “My contract is Galactic Standard. I still have two months to go. But how come the ten-month year? Most other planets have twelve, regardless of the number of days.”

“Old Alexander liked thirty-day months.”

“I’ve wondered about that.”

“You’ll find a lot more peculiar things about Flora when you get to know her better. This year has just been a breaking-in period.”

Kennon chuckled. “It’s damn near broken me,” he admitted. “You know, I thought that the Lani’d be my principal practice when I came here.”

“You didn’t figure that right. They’re the easiest part. They’re intelligent and co-operative.”

“Which is more than one can say about the others.” Kennon wiped the sweat from his face. “What with this infernal heat and their eternal stubbornness, I’ve nearly been driven crazy.”

“You shouldn’t have laid out that vaccination program.”

“I had to. Your hog business was living mostly on luck, and the sheep and shrakes were almost as bad. You can’t get away from soil saprophytes no matter how clean you are. Under a pasture setup there’s always a chance of contamination. And that old cliche about an ounce of prevention is truer of livestock raising than anything else I can think of.”

“I have some more good news for you,” Blalok said. “That’s why I came over. We’re going to have another species to treat and vaccinate.”

Kennon groaned. “Now what?”

“Poultry.” Blalok’s voice was disgusted. “Personally I think it’s a mess, but Alexander thinks it’s profitable. Someone’s told him that pound for pound chickens are the most efficient feed converters of all the domestic animals. So we’re getting a pilot plant: eggs, incubator, and a knocked-down broiler battery so we can try the idea out. The Boss-man is always hot on new ideas to increase efficiency and production. The only trouble is that he fails to consider the work involved in setting up another operation.”

“You’re so right. I’ll have to brush up on pullorum, ornithosis, coccidosis, leukosis, perosis, and Ochsner knows how many other-osises and—itises. I was never too strong on fowl practice in school, and I’d be happier if I never had anything to do with them.”

“So would I,” Blalok agreed. “I can’t see anything in this but trouble.”

Kennon nodded.

“And he’s forgotten something else,” Blalok added. “Poultry need concentrated feed. We’re going to have to install a feed mill.”

Kennon chuckled. “I hope he’ll appreciate the bill he gets.”

“He thinks we can use local labor,” Blalok said gloomily. “I wish he’d realize that Lani are technological morons.”

“They could learn.”

“I suppose so—but it isn’t easy. And besides, Allworth is the only man with feed-mill experience, and he’s up to his ears with Hillside Station since that expansion order came in.”

“I never did get the reason for that. After we complained about the slavery implications and got the Boss-man’s okay to hold the line, why do we need more Lani?”

“Didn’t you know? His sister’s finally decided to try marriage. Found herself some overmuscled Halsite who looked good to her—but she couldn’t crack his moral barrier.” Blalok grinned. “I thought you’d be the first to know. Wasn’t she interested in you?”

Kennon chuckled. “You could call it that. Interested—like the way a dog’s interested in a beefsteak. It’s a good thing we had that fluke problem or I’d have been chewed up and digested long ago. That woman frightens me.”

“I could be scared by uglier things,” Blalok said. “With the Boss-man’s