it that you didn't stand on your
professional rights?"

"I have my reasons--but they have nothing to do with medicine."

"Oh--I see. Ethical." The interne's voice was faintly sarcastic.

"Manners, Doctor--manners." Kennon's voice was gentle but the interne
flushed a dull red.

"Sorry, sir."

"Don't mention it. It's normal for a graduate to confuse liberty with
license." Kennon smiled. "Don't worry. I shan't report you."

"That's good of you, sir." Smalley's face registered relief. Demerits
were difficult to erase--particularly ones of courtesy.

Kennon wondered if the young man would report himself. He doubted it.
The interne didn't look the type--probably he was dated for some obscure
job, like a general practitioner. He shrugged. It took all kinds to make
a profession. Even the Smalleys had their place.

"That girl you brought in," Smalley said as they entered a white
car emblazoned with the three crosses, red, blue, and green, that
represented the three fields of medicine. "She's an interesting case.
I've never seen space shock before. And the patient herself--one would
hardly believe she was a Betan."

"She isn't," Kennon said.

"So?" Blond eyebrows rose in inverted U's of surprise. "But that's
hardly possible. Our tests indicate-"

"Don't you think that this is a matter for Dr. Brainard?" Kennon said
icily. "Protocol--"

"Of course. Stupid of me--but the case is so interesting. Half the
center staff have seen her already. I wasn't proposing to discuss the
case. It wouldn't be proper. Even though you are only a veterinarian."

"Only?" Kennon's voice was hard. "I shouldn't have to remind you of
this, Mr. Smalley--but I have been for the past two years on a world of
bad manners. I expected better here at home."

Smalley flushed to the roots of his straw-colored hair. "Sorry, Doctor,"
he muttered. "I don't know what's the matter with me."

"I can tell you," Kennon said. "You've just graduated."

"How did you know?" Smalley said.

"I was a graduate once, myself--not too long ago."

"How long, sir?"

"Class of Eighty-seven."

"That's twelve years ago," Smalley said.

Kennon nodded. Ten years lost. Not bad--not bad at all. But Alexander
could have done a lot in ten years.

"I meant no disrespect," Smalley said worriedly.

"I know it. But if you intend to practice on Beta, you'd better
polish your professional manner. Now where I was, it didn't make much
difference. Laymen often called me 'Doc