CHAPTER VIII
“Wake up, Doctor, it’s six A.M.” A pleasant voice cut through Kennon’s slumber. He opened one eye and looked at the room. For a moment the strange surroundings bothered him, then memory took over. He stirred uncomfortably, looking for the owner of the voice.
“You have your morning calls at seven, and there’s a full day ahead,” the voice went on. “I’m sorry, sir, but you should get up.” The voice didn’t sound particularly sorry.
It was behind him, Kennon decided. He rolled over with a groan of protest and looked at his tormentor. A gasp of dismay left his lips, for standing beside the bed, a half smile on her pointed face, was Copper—looking fresh and alert and as disturbing as ever.
It wasn’t right, Kennon thought bitterly, to be awakened from a sound sleep by a naked huma
