r sexual urges and
satisfactions the same. Fertilization and period of gestation unchanged.
Your children will mature at the same ages as they do now."

"How do you--oh, I see. You wouldn't change any molecular linkages or
configurations in the genes or chromosomes."

"We could not, sir, even if we wished. Such substitutions can be made
only in exact one-for-one replacements. In the near future you will, of
course, have to control births quite rigorously."

"We sure would. Let's see ... say we want a stationary population of a
hundred million on our planet. Each couple to have two children, a boy
and a girl. Born when the parents are about fifty ... um-m-m. The gals
can have all the children they want, then, until our population is about
a million; then slap on the limit of two kids per couple. Right?"

"Approximately so, sir. And after conversion you alone will be able to
operate with the full power of your eight, without tiring. You will
also, of course, be able to absorb almost instantaneously all the
knowledges and abilities of the old Masters."

Hilton gulped twice before he could speak. "You wouldn't be holding
anything else back, would you?"

"Nothing important, sir. Everything else is minor, and probably known to
you."

"I doubt it. How long will the job take, and how much notice will you
need?"

"Two days, sir. No notice. Everything is ready."

Hilton, face somber, thought for minutes. "The more I think of it the
less I like it. But it seems to be a forced put ... and Temple will blow
sky high ... and _have_ I got the guts to go it alone, even if she'd let
me...." He shrugged himself out of the black mood. "I'll look her up and
let you know, Larry."

* * * * *

He looked her up and told her everything. Told her bluntly; starkly;
drawing the full picture in jet black, with very little white.

"There it is, sweetheart. The works," he concluded. "We are not going to
have ten years; we may not have ten months. So--if such a brain as that
can be had, do we or do we not have to have it? I'm putting it squarely
up to you."

Temple's face, which had been getting paler and paler, was now as nearly
colorless as it could become; the sickly yellow of her skin's light tan
unbacked by any flush of red blood.

Her whole body was tense and strained.

"There's a horrible snapper on that question.... Can't _I_ do it? Or
_anybody_ else except you?"

"No. Anyway, whose job is it,