The Lani People | Page 6

to be
added to the pile at the opposite end of the desk. The man would do better, he thought, if
he would have his staff transcribe the papers to microfilm that could be read through an
interval-timed scanner. He might suggest that later. As for now, he shrugged and seated
himself in the chair beside the desk. The quiet was broken only by the rustle of paper as
the two rapt-faced men turned page after page with mechanical regularity.
Finally Kennon turned the last page, paused, blinked, and performed the necessary
mental gymnastics to orient his time sense. Alexander, he noticed, was still engrossed,
sunk in his autohypnotic trance. Kennon waited until he had finished the legal folder
which he was reading and then gently intruded upon Alexander's concentration.
Alexander looked up blankly and then went through the same mental gyrations Kennon
had performed a few minutes before. His eyes focused and became hard and alert.
"Well?" he asked. "What do you think of it?"
"I think it's the damnedest, trickiest, most unilateral piece of legalistics I've ever seen,"
Kennon said bluntly. "If that's the best you can offer, I wouldn't touch the job with a pair
of forceps."
Alexander smiled. "I see you read the fine print," he said. There was quiet amusement in

his voice. "So you don't like the contract?"
"No sensible man would. I'm damned if I'll sign commitment papers just to get a job. No
wonder you're having trouble getting professional help. If your contracts are all like that
it's' a wonder anyone works for you."
"We have no complaints from our employees," Alexander said stiffly.
"How could you? If they signed that contract you'd have a perfect right to muzzle them."
"There are other applicants for this post," Alexander said.
"Then get one of them. I wouldn't be interested."
"A spaceman's ticket is a good thing to have," Alexander said idly. "It's a useful ace in the
hole. Besides, you have had three other job offers - all of which are good even though
they don't pay fifteen Ems a year."
Kennon did a quick double take. Alexander's investigative staff was better than good. It
was uncanny.
"But seriously, Dr. Kennon, I am pleased that you do not like that contract. Frankly, I
wouldn't consider employing you if you did."
"Sir?"
"That contract is a screen. It weeds out the careless, the fools, and the unfit in one
operation. A man who would sign a thing like that has no place in my organization."
Alexander chuckled at Kennon's blank expression. "I see you have had no experience
with screening contracts."
"I haven't," Kennon admitted. "On Beta the tests are formal. The Medico-Psych Division
supervises them."
"Different worlds, different methods," Alexander observed. "But they're all directed
toward the same goal. Here we aren't so civilized. We depend more on personal
judgment." He took another contract from one of the drawers of his desk. "Take a look at
this. I think you'll be more satisfied."
"If you don't mind, I'll read it now," Kennon said.
Alexander nodded.
* * *
"It's fair enough," Kennon said, "except for Article Twelve."
"The personal privilege section?

"Yes."
"Well, that's the contract. You can take it or leave it."
"I'll leave it," Kennon said. "Thank you for your time." He rose to his feet, smiled at
Alexander, and turned to the door. "Don't bother to call your receptionist," he said. "I can
find my way out."
"Just a minute, Doctor," Alexander said. He was standing behind the desk, holding out
his hand.
"Another test?" Kennon inquired.
Alexander nodded. "The critical one," he said. "Do you want the job?"
"Of course."
"Without knowing more about it?"
"The contract is adequate. It defines my duties."
"And you think you can handle them?"
"I know I can."
"I notice," Alexander observed, "that you didn't object to other provisions."
"No, sir. They're pretty rigid, but for the salary you are paying I figure you should have
some rights. Certainly you have the right to protect your interests. But that Article
Twelve is a direct violation of everything a human being should hold sacred besides
being a violation of the Peeper Laws. I'd never sign a contract that didn't carry a full
Peeper rider."
"That's quite a bit."
"That's the minimum," Kennon corrected. "Naturally, I won't object to mnemonic erasure
of matters pertaining to your business once my contract's completed and I leave your
employment. But until then there will be no conditioning, no erasures, no taps, no
snoopers, and no checkups other than the regular periodic psychans. I'll consult with you
on vacation time and will arrange it to suit your convenience. I'll even agree to
emergency recall, but that's the limit." Kennon's voice was flat.
"You realize I'm agreeing to give you a great