“Why, certainly. What else could we do with senile animals?”
“But that’s murder!”
Mullins shook his head. “No more than killing a cow for beef.”
“You know,” Kennon said, “I’ve never thought of what happened to aged Lani. Sure, I’ve never seen one, but—Lord Lister!—I’m a fool.”
“You’ll get used to the idea,” Mullins said. “They aren’t human, and except for a few, they aren’t as intelligent as a Santosian Varl. I know that they look like us except for those tails, but that’s as far as it goes. I’ve spent two hundred years with them and I know what I’m talking about.”
“That’s what Alexander says.”
“He should know. He’s lived with them all his life.”
“Well—perhaps. But I’m not convinced.”
“Neither was Old Doc—not until the day he died.”
“Did he change then?”