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

The main salon was crowded. The huge room, glittering with mirrors and crystal, floored with thick carpets, and hung with rich drapes, had something of the appearance of a Sarkian harem. Although there were only five of the Alexander family present, there were at least twenty Lani whose costumes ranged from the black G string and halter of the household staff to the utter nudity of Douglas’s playthings. They were all female, and Kennon wondered for a moment what a male was like.

Besides Alexander, there were two men and three women: Douglas, still with his sulky expression, an older man in his late nineties who looked like Douglas’s elder brother, two mature women who could be any age from fifty to three hundred, and a girl. She might have been thirty—perhaps younger, perhaps older, a lean feminine edition of Alexander, with the same intriguing face and veiled predatory look. There was a hardness about her that was absent in the others. Kennon had the feeling that whatever this girl did, she didn’t do it half way.

“My sister Eloise,” Alexander said in a low voice. “Watch out for her. She’s as deadly as a puff adder and she collects men. The other man is Douglas’s father, Henry. The plump redhead beside him is his wife, Anne. The other woman is my mother, Clara, even though Eloise and I don’t look like her. We take after Father.”

“Where’s he?” Kennon whispered.

“Dead,” Alexander replied. “He was killed twenty years ago.”

“I’d like to present Dr. Jac Kennon, our new veterinarian,” Alexander said into the hush that followed their entrance. The introductions that followed were in proper form, and Kennon was beginning to feel more at ease until Eloise sent one of her Lani with a summons. He looked around for Alexander, but the entrepreneur was the center of a three-cornered argument, hemmed in by Douglas, Henry, and Anne. Henry’s voice was raised in bitter protest that Alexander was exceeding his authority. He shrugged. There was no help there.

“All right,” he said, “tell your mistress I’ll be along in a moment.”

“Yes, Doctor,” the Lani said, “but the Woman Eloise says for you to come, and she is not accustomed to being disobeyed.”

“Tell her what I said,” Kennon replied. “I shall be there directly.” He crossed to the table and examined it, selecting a cluster of odd purple fruit which looked more interesting than it tasted. When he had finished he walked leisurely over to where Eloise sat.

She looked at him angrily. “I am accustomed to being obeyed by my employees,” she said coldly. Her dark eyes, oddly like her brother’s, traversed his hard body like twin scanners.

He returned her appraising stare with one of his own. “I’m not your employee,” he said bluntly. “I was hired by your brother, and there’s a full peeper rider on my contract.” His eyes traveled slowly over her carefully arranged hair, her make-up, her jewelry at throat and arms, her painted finger- and toenails, and then across the slim small-breasted lines of her body half revealed under her thin ankle-length tunic of Lyranian silk.

“Satisfied?” she asked.

“On Beta,” he said bluntly, “your appearance would qualify you for a parasite camp. Six months of hard labor would do you no end of good. You’re soft, lazy, and undisciplined.”

Eloise gasped. “Why, you—” she sputtered.

“And perhaps next time you’ll learn to be polite,” Kennon continued imperturbably. “After all, the superficial attributes of good breeding are not too hard to counterfeit.”

To his surprise, Eloise giggled. “You bite, don’t you?” she asked. “Remind me to remember that.”

“I shall.”

“Of course, your actions weren’t good breeding either.”

“Admitted—but I’ve never pretended to be what I’m not. I’m the son of a spaceship skipper, and I’m a veterinarian. That’s all.”

“That’s not all. You are also a man.” Her face was sober, “It’s been some time since I’ve met one. I’d almost forgotten they existed.”

“There’s your brother.”

“Alex?—he’s a money making machine. Come—sit beside me and let’s talk.”

“About what?”

“You—me—your job, your life—anything you wish?”

“That line isn’t exactly new,” Kennon grinned.

“I know,” she admitted, “but it usually works.”

“I’m immune.”

“That’s what you think.” Eloise’s eyes were frankly appraising. “I think I could become interested in you.”

“I have a job here. I don’t think I would have time to give you the attention you’d demand.”

“I get bored easily. It probably wouldn’t be long before I would be tired of you.”

“Perhaps—and perhaps not, I can’t afford to take the chance.”

“You seem confident.”

“You forget. I was a sailor.”

“And spacemen have a reputation, eh?” Eloise chuckled.

“At that, you might be right. I remember the first officer of—” she let the thought die. “But I became tired of him,” she finished.

Kennon smiled. “I’ve never had that complaint.”

“Perhaps you’d like to make the acid test?” she asked.

“Perhaps,” he said. “But not tonight.”