“No—I think not.”
“Good. I’ll get back. Frankly, I don’t like this any better than Blalok or the boss, but I’m low man on that pole. See you later.”
Kennon chuckled as Jordan left. “Now, let’s get ready for that cadaver,” he said.
“Carcass, doctor,” the redhead corrected. “A cadaver is a dead human body.” She accented the “human.”
Even in death there is no equality, Kennon thought. He nodded and the Lani led the way to a door which opened into a good-sized office, liberally covered with bookshelves. An old-fashioned plastic desk, some office cybernetics, a battered voicewriter, and a few chairs completed the furnishings. The redhead placed several large folio volumes in front of him and stepped back from the desk as he leafed rapidly through the color plates. It was an excellent atlas. Dr. Williamson had been a careful and competent workman.
Half an hour later, well fortified with a positional knowledge of Lani viscera, Kennon looked up at the redhead. She was still standing patiently, a statue of red-gold and bronze.
“Get a smock and let’s go,” he said. “No—wait a minute.”
“Yes, sir?”
“What’s your name? I don’t want to say ‘Hey you!’”
She smiled. “It’s Copper Glow—want my pedigree too?”