"I have the solution."
"You ... do?" Not much hope in the answer. Dr. Jamison was a tired,
defeated man.
"Sure. Black Eyes doesn't like the city. Fine. Take him out. I can't
take him to Venus. He doesn't like Venus and he won't go. No one can
take him anyplace he doesn't want to go, just as no one can hurt him in
any way. But he doesn't like the city. It's too noisy. All right: have
someone take him far from the city, far far away--where there's no noise
at all. Someplace out in the sticks where it won't matter much if Black
Eyes puts a stop to any disturbing noises."
"Who will take him? You, Mr. Whitney?"
Judd shook his head. "That's your job, not mine. I've given you the
answer. Now use it."
Lindy had arrived, and Lindy said: "Judd, you're right. That _is_ the
answer. And you're wonderful--"
No one volunteered to spend his life in exile with Black Eyes, but then
Dr. Jamison pointed out that while no one knew the creature's life-span,
it certainly couldn't be expected to match man's. Just a few years and
the beast would die, and ... Dr. Jamison's arguments were so logical
that he convinced himself. He took Black Eyes with him into the Canadian
Northwoods, and there they live.
* * * * *
Judd was right--almost.
This was the obvious answer which escaped everyone.
But scientists continued their examinations of Black Eyes, and they
discovered something. Black Eyes' fears had not been for herself alone.
She is going to have babies. The estimate is for thirty-five little
tarsier-eyed creatures. No doctor in the world will be able to do
anything but deliver the litter.