included.     

       “I’ve been going over Station Fourteen’s records with Jordan,” Blalok said as he ushered them into the house. A tall black-haired man rose as they entered.     

       “Skip the formality, Jordan. Sit down,” Alexander said, “and meet Dr. Kennon—Steve Jordan—Jordan runs the Lani Division.”      

       Kennon nodded acknowledgment as Alexander continued, “What’s this trouble at Fourteen?”      

       “I don’t know. We’ve got an epizootic of something. Another youngster died this morning, and there’s three more that look pretty bad, jaundice, no appetite, complaining of muscular pains. Same symptoms as took the others. The one this morning makes the fourth this month, and we’re only half through it.”      

       “Are all your losses in this one station?” Kennon asked.     

       “No—but it’s worst there.”      

       “I don’t like losses like that,” Alexander said.     

       “Neither do I,” Jordan replied.     

       “This isn’t Jordan’s fault, sir,” Blalok said quickly. “As you know, we haven’t had a vet for three months.”      

       “Two,” Alexander corrected.     

       “Three—Old Doc wasn’t around at all the month before he died,”        Blalok said. “As a result we’ve got a problem. We need professional help.”      

       “Well here he is—use him,” Alexander said. He looked at Kennon, a trace of amusement on his face. “There’s nothing like getting into things early.”      

       “Particularly when one comes into them stone cold,” Kennon added. “It’s a poor way to start a career.”      

       “We can’t afford to wait,” Jordan said. “We need help.”      

       “I’ll see what can be done,” Kennon replied. “Have you saved the body?”      

       “Every one of them,” Jordan said. “They’re in the hospital in the autopsy room.”      

       “That was sensible. A post-mortem might give us an answer. Where’s the hospital?”      

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