The Lani People Read online

  Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer

  THE LANI PEOPLE

  By J. F. Bone

  CHAPTER I

  The boxed ad in the opportunities section of the Kardon Journal ofAllied Medical Sciences stood out like a cut diamond in a handfulof gravel. "Wanted," it read, "Veterinarian--for residency in activelivestock operation. Single recent graduate preferred. Quarters andservice furnished. Well-equipped hospital. Five-year contract, renewaloption, starting salary 15,000 cr./annum with periodic increases. Stateage, school, marital status, and enclose recent tri-di with application.Address Box V-9, this journal."

  Jac Kennon read the box a second time. There must be a catch to it.Nothing that paid a salary that large could possibly be on the level.Fifteen thousand a year was top pay even on Beta, and an offer like thisfor a new graduate was unheard of--unless Kardon was in the middle of aninflation. But Kardon wasn't. The planet's financial status was A-1.He knew. He'd checked that immediately after landing. Whatever mightbe wrong with Kardon, it wasn't her currency. The rate of exchange was1.2-1 Betan.

  A five-year contract--hmm--that would be seventy-five thousand. Figurethree thousand a year for living expenses, that would leave sixty-plentyof capital to start a clinic. The banks couldn't turn him down if he hadthat much cash collateral.

  Kennon chuckled wryly. He'd better get the job before he startedspending the money he didn't have. He had 231 credits plus a fewhalves, tenths, and hundredths, a diploma in veterinary medicine, sometextbooks, a few instruments, and a first-class spaceman's ticket. Bywatching his expenses he had enough money to live here for a month andif nothing came of his efforts to find a job on this planet, there wasalways his spaceman's ticket and another world.

  Another world! There were over six thousand planets in the Brotherhoodof Man. At two months per planet, not figuring transit time, it wouldtake more than a thousand Galactic Standard years to visit them all, anda man could look forward to scarcely more than five hundred at best. Thehabitat of Man had become too large. There wasn't time to explore everypossibility.

  But a man could have certain standards, and look until he found aposition that fitted. The trouble was--if the standards were too highthe jobs were too scarce. Despite the chronic shortage of veterinariansthroughout the Brotherhood, there was a peculiar reluctance on the partof established practitioners to welcome recent graduates. Most of theads in the professional journals read "State salary desired," which wasnothing more than economic blackmail--a bald-faced attempt to get asmuch for as little as possible. Kennon grimaced wryly. He'd be damned ifhe'd sell his training for six thousand a year. Slave labor, that's whatit was. There were a dozen ads like that in the Journal. Well, he'd givethem a trial, but he'd ask eight thousand and full GEA benefits. Eightyears of school and two more as an intern were worth at least that.

  He pulled the portable voicewrite to a comfortable position in front ofthe view wall and began composing another of the series of letters thathad begun months ago in time and parsecs away in space. His voice was afluid counterpoint to the soft hum of the machine.

  And as he dictated, his eyes took in the vista through the viewwall. Albertsville was a nice town, too young for slums, too new foroverpopulation. The white buildings were the color of winter butter inthe warm yellow sunlight as the city drowsed in the noonday heat. Itnestled snugly in the center of a bowl-shaped valley whose surroundingforest clad hills gave mute confirmation to the fact that Kardonwas still primitive, an unsettled world that had not yet reached theexplosive stage of population growth that presaged maturity. But thatwas no disadvantage. In fact, Kennon liked it. Living could be fun on aplanet like this.

  It was abysmally crude compared to Beta, but the Brotherhood had openedKardon less than five hundred years ago, and in such a short time onecouldn't expect all the comforts of civilization.

  It required a high population density to supply them, and while Kardonwas integrated its population was scarcely more than two hundredmillion. It would be some time yet before this world would achieve aClass I status. However, a Class II planet had some advantages. What itlacked in conveniences it made up in opportunities and elbow room.

  A normal Betan would have despised this world, but Kennon wasn't normal,although to the casual eye he was a typical representative of theMedico-Technological Civilization, long legged, fair haired, and shortbodied with the typical Betan squint that left his eyes mere slitsbehind thick lashes and heavy brows. The difference was internal ratherthan external.

  Possibly it was due to the fact that his father was the commander of aShortliner and most of his formative years had been spent in space. ToKennon, accustomed to the timeless horror of hyper space, all planetswere good, broad open places where a man could breathe unfiltered airand look for miles across distances unbroken by dually bulk heads andsafety shields. On a planet there were spaciousness and freedom andafter the claustrophobic confinement of a hyper ship any world wasparadise. Kennon sighed, finished his letters, and placed them in themail chute. Perhaps, this time, there would be a favorable reply.