t receive
annual progress reports from me--and see or talk to me personally every
second year, you are released from our bond and can do what you wish
with the evidence I've accumulated."

"We'd better get this into Private Record," Brainard said. "We can
transcribe an agreement and place it in the Public Repository."

"A good idea and we'd better waste no time. Alexander might still be
looking for me--and if he is, it's merely a question of time before he
catches up."

"Ten years have passed. It's doubtful. But we could keep you here at the
Center."

Kennon shook his head. "Too dangerous. And besides it would compromise
you. No--we'll get everything possible done to make the Lani's case
airtight, and then I'll return to Kardon. It will put our case in
a better light if it ever comes to trial, if I go back voluntarily.
Anyway--I'm morally bound to return. Now let's make this record."

"It's your decision," Brainard said. "And it's your neck--but I must
admit that I agree with you."

"I'll feel safer when we get the legal details clarified," Kennon said.

"And what of the girl?"

"Can you take care of her if I have to leave quickly?"

"Of course. I'll give her personal attention, and after she has her
child I'll see that she is sent to you."

"That's decent of you, Doctor."

"It's my moral responsibility," Brainard said as he slipped a new tape
into the recorder.

* * *

Copper responded quickly to rest and therapy. The space shock cleared up
quickly. The gerontological treatments put her to bed again, but within
a month she was completely normal, and her lifespan was now that of a
normal human. She could look forward to some four hundred years with
Kennon--and the prospect was not unpleasant. The Center fascinated her.
Never before had she seen a hospital devoted to the care and
treatment of humans. It was a far cry, in its polished steel and stone
magnificence, from the tiny primitive structure over which Kennon had
presided. Yet both places served the same purpose. Perhaps Kennon was
right--that there was no difference between man and Lani. The idea was
not nearly as unbelievable as it was at first.

"I never realized what it meant to be human," Copper said as she held
Kennon's hand. "It is nice to feel important and to know that our child
is a member of the race that rules the galaxy."

"So you're convinced?" Kennon chuckled.

"The serological identity--" she began.

"Hmm. You've been getting s