.
But let's face it--the chances are a thousand to one that something
_will_ go wrong. We'll just have to wait. And work." He looked at the
Pornsens. "They're very much in love, aren't they? And she was receptive
to the suggestion--beneath it all, she was burning to have a child, just
like the others."

MacGuire wheeled out the operating table, with its load of serums,
pressure-hypos and jury-rigged thingamabobs which he was testing on
alternate couples. Ted Harris stopped at the door a moment. He said, "I
think the suggestions I planted will turn the trick when they find out
she's pregnant. They'll come through okay--won't even be too angry."

Farrel sighed. They'd been over it in detail several times, of course,
but apparently Harris needed the reassurance as much as he did. He said:
"Sure. Now scram so I can go back into my act."

Harris closed the door. Farrel sat down at his desk and studied the pair
before him. They looked back contentedly, holding hands, their eyes
dull.

Farrel said, "How do you feel?"

Ralph Pornsen said, "I feel fine."

Mary Pornsen said, "Oh, I feel _wonderful_!"

Deliberately Farrel pressed another button below his desk-top.

The dull eyes cleared instantly.

"Oh, you've given it some thought, Doc?" Mary said sweetly. "And what
have you decided?"

"You'll see," Farrel said. "Eventually."

He rose. "That's all for now, kids. I'd like to see you again in one
month--for a routine check-up."

Mary nodded and got up. "You'll still have to wait, Doc. Why not admit
you're licked?"

Ralph got up too, and looked puzzled.

"Wow," he said. "I'm tired."

"Perhaps just coming here," Farrel said, "discharged some of the tension
you've been carrying around."

The Pornsens left.

Farrel brought out some papers from his desk and studied them. Then,
from the file drawer, he selected the record of Hugh and Alice Farrel.
Alice would be at the perfect time of her menstrual cycle tomorrow....

Farrel flipped his communicator.

"MacGuire," he said. "Tomorrow it's me."

MacGuire chuckled. Farrel could have kicked him. He put his chin in his
hands and stared out the port. Danny Stern had the log in place in the
barricade. The bulldozer was moving on to a new task. His momentary
doubt stilled, Farrel went back to work.

* * * * *

Twenty-one years later, when the ships from Earth began arriving, the
log had been replaced by a stone monument erected to the m