The man sat on the edge of his chair, clutching his headgear in earnest supplication. His formal clothes were out of fashion and fit, but painfully clean and tidy; Ethan wondered how long the fellow'd had to scrub this morning to get every speck of dirt from under those horny nails.
Brother Haas slapped his cap absently against his thigh. "My boy, doctor—is—is there something the matter with my son?"
"Uh—didn't they tell you anything on the comlink?"
"No, sir. They just told me to come. So I signed out the ground car from my commune motor pool, and here I am."
Ethan glanced at the dossier on his desk. "You drove all the way up here from Crystal Springs this morning?"
The bear smiled. "I'm a farmer. I'm used to getting up early. Anyway, nothing's too much trouble for my boy. My first, y'know—" he ran a hand over his chin, and laughed, "well, I expect that's obvious."
"How did you end up here at Sevarin, instead of your district Rep Center at Las Sands?" asked Ethan curiously.
"It was for the CJB. Las Sands said they didn't have a CJB."
"I see." Ethan cleared his throat. "Any particular reason you decided on CJB stock?"
The farmer nodded firmly. "It was the accident last harvest decided me. One of our fellows tangled wrong-end-to with a thresher—lost an arm. Typical farm accident, but they said, if only he'd got to a doctor sooner, they mighta saved it. The commune's growing. We're right on the edge of the terraforming. We need a doctor of our own. Everybody knows CJBs make the best doctors. Who knows when I'll get enough social duty credits for a second son, or a third? I meant to get the best."