A figure emerged from the drying racks at the other end of the warehouse.
"Is that you, Joseph?"
"That's pa," Joseph said.
"Damn you, Joseph!"
"I guess he's drunk," Joseph said.
Wellesley advanced. "I am Lieutenant Wellesley of the Rift police," he said.
Amos Sealilly was a great, craggy ruin of a man, with seamed face and heavy grey brows that shadowed intense blue eyes. Eyes that glared just now. "What do you want here?" he bellowed.
"My mission is to perform an ethnic census for the Bureau of Genetics. I shall require your co-operation."
"There are three hundred and twelve people in Aidennsport," Sealilly said. "Write that down and get out. Go back to your space castle and leave us alone."
Wellesley sighed. "I am afraid that an ethnic census is never quite that simple. However, since you are required by law to assist me, you may as well know the truth. This community is suspected of inbreeding."