The Lani People by Jesse F. Bone (best fiction books to read .txt) 📖

indefinable air of cruelty was more pronounced. He had been frightened the last time Kennon had seen him, and he was frightened now.

“I’m not sure whether I am glad to see you, Kennon,” he said uncertainly. “But I suppose I have to be.”

Kennon believed him.

“How have you been?” Kennon asked.

“Not too bad until this afternoon. Things have been going pretty well.” He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. “I suppose Cousin Alex will skin me for this, but there’s nothing else I can do.” He licked his lips. “You’ve been here long enough—and you’ll have to know eventually.” He fidgeted and finally sat down behind the desk. “We have trouble. Half the Lani were stricken about four hours ago. It was sudden. No warning at all. And if they die—” his voice trailed off.

“Well—what are we waiting for? Get someone to bring my bags down here and we’ll look them over.”

“Do you have to?—Can’t you prescribe something?”

“How? I haven’t examined the patients.”

“I can tell you what’s wrong.”

Kennon smiled. “I hardly think that’s the way to do it. Even though your description might be accurate, you still might miss something of critical importance.”

Douglas sighed. “I thought that’s what you’d say,” he said. “Oh—very well—you might as well see what we have out here.”

“You can’t possibly believe that I don’t already know,” Kennon said. “You have male Lani.”

Douglas looked at him, his face blank with surprise. “But—how did you know? No one on the main island does except the Family. And we never talk about it. Did Eloise tell you? I noticed she was struck with you the day you came, and the Lani who have come out here since have been talking about you two. Did she do it?”

Kennon shook his head. “She never said a word.”

“Then how—”

“I’m not stupid,” Kennon said. “That story you’ve spread about artificial fertilization has more holes in it than a sieve. That technique has been investigated a thousand times. And it has never worked past the first generation. If you had been using it, the Lani would long ago have been extinct. Haploids don’t reproduce, and the only way the diploid number of chromosomes can be kept is to replace those lost by maturation division of the ovum. You might be able to keep the diploid number by using immature ova, but the fertilization technique would be far more complex than the simple uterine injections you use at Hillside Station.”

Douglas looked at him blankly.

“Besides,” Kennon added, “I have a microscope. I checked your so-called fertilizing solution. I found spermatozoa, and spermatozoa only come from males. What’s more, the males have to be the same species as the females or fertilization will not take place. So there must be male Lani. Nothing else fits. You’ve been using artificial insemination on the main-island Lani. And from the way this place is guarded, it’s obvious that here is your stud farm.”

Douglas shrugged and spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. “I suppose,” he said, “that’s the way Old Doc found out too. We never told him, but he knew before he ever came out here.”

“The only thing that puzzles me,” Kennon went on, “is how you managed to eliminate the Y-chromosome carriers within the sperm.”

“Eh?”

“The male sex-determinant. Half the sperm carry it, but so far as I know, there’s never been a male born on the main island.”

“Oh—that. It’s something that’s done in the labs here. Probably one of the technicians could tell you. It’s called electro—electro freezing or something like that.”

“Electrodiaphoresis?”

Douglas nodded. “That sounds like it. I don’t know anything about it. One of Grandfather’s men did the basic work. We just follow instructions.” He shrugged. “Well—since you know the secret there’s no sense in hiding the bodies. Come along and tell me what’s wrong.”

It was a peculiar feeling to walk down the row of cubical rooms with their barred doors. The whole area reminded him of a historical novel, of the prisons of early human history where men confined other men for infractions of social customs. The grimness of the place was appalling. The male Lani—impressive in their physical development—were in miserable condition, nauseated, green-faced, retching. The sickening odors of vomit and diarrhea hung heavily on the air. Douglas coughed and held a square of cloth to his face, and even Kennon, strong-stomached as he was, could feel his viscera twitch in sympathy with the caged sufferers.

“Great Fleming, man!” Kennon exploded. “You can’t keep them here. Get them out! Give them some fresh air! This place would make a well man sick.”

Douglas looked at him, “I wouldn’t take one of them out unless I had him shackled and there was an armed guard to help me. Those males are the most vicious, cunning, and dangerous animals on Kardon. They exist with but one thought in mind—to kill!”

Kennon looked curiously through a barred door at one of the Lani. He lay on a bare cot, a magnificently muscled figure with a ragged black beard hiding his face. There were dozens of scars on his body and one angry purple area on his thick right forearm where flesh had been torn away not too long ago. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and soft moaning noises came from his tight lips as he pressed his abdomen with thick-fingered hands. “He doesn’t look so dangerous,” Kennon said.

“Watch it!” Douglas warned. “Don’t get too close!” But the warning was too late. Kennon touched the bars, and as he did, the Lani moved with fluid speed, one huge hand clutching Kennon’s sleeve and pulling him against the bars while the other darted for his throat. Fingers bit into Kennon’s neck and tightened in a viselike grip. Kennon reacted automatically. His arms came up inside the Lani’s and crashed down, elbows out, tearing the Lani loose. He jumped back, rubbing his bruised throat. “That fellow’s not sick!” he gasped. “He’s crazy!”

The Lani glared at him through the bars, disappointment written on his scarred and bearded face.

“I warned you,” Douglas said. His voice held an undertone of malicious laughter. “He must be sick or he would have killed you. George is clever in a stupid sort of way.”

Kennon looked into the cubicle. The Lani glared back and growled. There was a beastlike note in his voice that made the short hairs on Kennon’s neck prickle.

“That fellow needs a lesson,” he said.

“You want to give it to him?” Douglas asked.

“Not particularly.”

“Ha!—man!—you afraid!” the Lani taunted. His voice was thick and harsh. “All men fear me. All Lani, too. I am boss. Come close again man and I kill you!”