“Ten?—how old is she?”
“Thirty.”
“Thirty—years?”
Alexander nodded.
“Good Lord Lister! I’d have guessed her at least three hundred!”
“Wrong life scale. Lani only live about one tenth as long as we do. They’re mature at twelve and dead at fifty.”
Alexander sighed. “That’s another difference. Even without agerone we’d live to be a hundred.”
“Have you tried gerontological injections?”
“Once. They produced death in about two days. Killed five Lani with them.” Alexander’s face darkened at an unpleasant memory. “So we don’t try any more,” he said. “There are too many differences.” He stretched. “I’d tell you more about them but it’ll be better to hear it from Evald Blalok. He’s our superintendent. Steve Jordan can tell you a lot, too. He runs the Lani Division. But right now let’s wait for Cousin Douglas. The pup will take his time about coming—but he’ll do it in the end. He’s afraid not to.”
“I’d rather not,” Kennon said. “It’s poor manners to be injected into a family affair—especially when I’m just one of the employees.”