Bromley said, "I checked around a little bit, and I found that quite a
few of our people are making pets out of the natives. The little devils
have got used to our scent, and they'll do anything just to watch a
match burn."
"But the quarantine?" I said.
"I guess they figure it's safe enough. Personally, I don't. But they
feel that since you and Sue have escaped any disease there's no reason
for the non-fraternizing rule, not even in closed spaces. Several
couples I know hold parties every night in their huts after dark. They
invite a couple of natives who supply the tala. They all sit around a
candle. The natives sleep there."
He kicked at an empty tala skin that Joe had tossed out the door
earlier. "Things are out of hand, and I'm ashamed I haven't come to you
sooner, Benson."
Phil was so outraged he couldn't speak. I said, "Thanks, Donnegan. You
did the right thing."
He left us, and while Benson was struggling to control his anger I said,
"It's a wonder they haven't burned the place down. The forest must be
damp enough to sustain fire, or they certainly would have set one."
"It might have been better," Benson said, "if they had burned the whole
damned planet up! And you thought I was exaggerating! There you have it,
a perfect set-up to make beachcombers out of the whole colony. Plenty of
free food, liquor, beautiful native girls and a mild climate."
"And native boys," I added, remembering suddenly that I was harboring
one of the "pets" under my own roof.
Benson clenched his fists. "From the first I knew what the answer must
come to. I just didn't have the guts to face it."