The Captain looked relieved. On Beta it was poor policy to interfere with the doings of doctors and engineers—or even doctors of philosophy.
“Very well. He’s yours—and I’m glad to be rid of him.” The Port Captain bowed to Kennon and Smalley and stalked out of the office.
“Pompous little man,” Kennon observed, “but he certainly can talk.”
“Oh—you know these Administrative people,” the interne said depreciatingly. “One mustn’t mind them. They’re necessary nuisances.” He eyed Kennon curiously. “How is 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.”
“Do
