The Lani People by Jesse F. Bone (types of ebook readers txt) 📕

that dripped in tiny yellow flecks to the broad petals below. It was a magnificent flower. There was nothing like it on Beta. That was a marvelous thing about flowers—wherever one went in the universe, plants used the same methods to fertilize their seed and spread their germ plasm. It was too bad that—Kennon jerked his attention to Alexander’s face. He detested the thought that his mind was common property. A man should have something he can call his own. There had been a clinics instructor in Year Six who was a sensitive. The classes had protected themselves against his prying with a circlet—a thought screen—he had done it too. Maybe he had brought the circlet with him. If he did, no one was going to catch him without it. It was a dirty business, this reading of others’ thought. Now where had he put that circlet? Was it among his old books—or was it with his instruments?

“Why don’t you go back to your house and find it?” Alexander snapped. “As you are, you’re nothing but a disruption. I want you in on this meeting, but not the way you’re acting.”

“I’m not going to act any other way until I get some protection from peeping,” Kennon said grimly. “And if you think this is bad wait till I start going through comparative anatomy.”

“What’s the matter with you two?” Blalok asked.

“Be quiet,” Alexander snapped. “This isn’t your problem. Kennon is behaving like a spoiled child!”

“He’s a telepath!” Kennon said. “And he didn’t tell me.”

“So what? I’ve known that for years.”

“And you stand for it?”

“I’m a Mystic, not a Betan,” Blalok said. “I don’t have your insane desire for privacy.”

“Go find that thought screen if you still have it!” Alexander said. “I don’t want any more of this. You’re making me ill!”

Kennon grinned thinly as he rose to his feet. It was a good thing he remembered Alexander was squeamish and didn’t like anatomy. The door was to his left, an iris door with eight leaves—terribly old-fashioned. About ten steps away. Count them—one—two—three—

Alexander sighed as Kennon left the room. “I certainly pushed the panic button on that young man,” he said. “He has a pathological attitude toward telepathy. Wonder what he has to hide that he wants privacy so badly? Even for a Betan this reaction was violent.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s a pretty emotional sort. Maybe he hates to look like a fool. He’s gotten himself mixed up with one of the Lani. Cute little thing by the name of Copper,” Blalok said.

“Oh—that’s it. I thought that was what he was hiding. A picture of a girl kept popping up.” Alexander chuckled. “I suppose that’s the trouble. A man hardly likes to look a fool, particularly to someone who has warned him. At that, I don’t blame him. They are beautiful and affectionate. And even with their superstitions and tabus they’re better than most humans.”

“For pets,” Blalok said heavily.

“They’re not better at anything,” Jordan demurred. “They can’t be—man is the best and always will be.”

“The eternal racial chauvinist,” Alexander murmured. He turned his attention to Blalok. “But for awhile, Evald, I’d suggest you keep an eye on our young man. I still don’t like his reaction. It was too violent—too defensive. I don’t feel right about it. Perhaps Betans are more sensitive than most people but it seems to me that he’s trying to conceal something. There was an undertone of fear—and something else—beneath his defenses.”

“Couldn’t you get any more than that?” Blalok asked. “You’re pretty good at this mind-reading business.”

“His defenses were remarkably good,” Alexander said dryly.

* * *

Well he’d done it now, Kennon thought. He found the thought-screen circlet sandwiched between two books on comparative neuroanatomy which he hadn’t bothered to unpack. He slipped it on and connected the lead wires to a portable battery pack. There was a half-forgotten tingling as the weak field heterodyned his thought waves. Kennon sighed. If Alexander wasn’t suspicious of him now the man was a fool. He’d done as well as he could with confusion and outrage, but it was hardly possible to hide behind superficialities. Even the most disciplined mind couldn’t do that without some preparation. Undoubtedly his concern about Copper had leaked through. He could only hope that other and more important things had not.

Well—he could go back to the conference now, but he would have to be doubly careful from now on. He couldn’t make daily trips to Olympus. His reaction had killed that plan. Alexander would be suspicious now—and unusual actions would crystallize suspicion to certainty. Now he needed a reason to be in that area. And then he grinned. He had a reason—a good one—one that would fit in with Alexander’s plans and his own. The only problem would be to make Alexander buy it—and that might be difficult. He’d have to work carefully—but with normal luck he could put the idea across. He crossed his fingers as he trudged back up the path to Alexandria.

The conference dragged on. Unlike most meetings, this one accomplished things—which was a tribute to Alexander’s ability to keep the subject in hand. Details of the expansion program presented by Alexander were rapidly reduced to workable plans. They involved some rearrangement of existing facilities, and the construction of others. But the obvious snags were rapidly disposed of, and the whole revamped operation was outlined on paper in surprisingly few hours. A deadline date was set, construction was authorized, and in the morning the first steps in the practical implementation of the new program would be taken.

“Well, that’s that,” Alexander said with a sigh. “I think this calls for a drink.”

“There’s one more thing,” Kennon said. “I know it isn’t much, but Jordan’s remark started me thinking.”

“What remark?” Jordan asked.

“The one you made at the beginning about Phoebe possibly being like the Olympus Station. I’ve often wondered why that particular location has been so difficult to operate. Sure, I know the accepted explanation, but I think we should learn why it works and how to break a tabu. If we don’t, we might be in for trouble.”

“That’s a good thought,” Alexander said. “I tried to find out once, but all I could discover was that it was tabu. The Lani simply didn’t like it. And despite the fact that I can read minds, I didn’t learn any more than that. There’s a certain sex-linkage to telepathy, as you probably know.”

Kennon nodded.

“All I could discover was that their dislike of Olympus was a basic emotion rather than reasoned thought. They were nervous, irritable, disobedient, and uncooperative while they were there—and even they didn’t know why. It was merely tabu. We even tried youngsters—but the attitude was the same. I’d like to know more about that basic emotion.”

“We should understand it,” Kennon agreed. “If we transship a large number of Lani to a strange world, we should know their deepest motivations. We cannot take the chance