We're
counting on them. They're vital to the plans we've made."

Mary Pornsen said, "Damn the plans. I won't have one. Not now. You've
just done a nice job of describing all my reasons. And all the other
girls feel the same way."

* * * * *

She looked out the window at the 'dozer and crew. Danny Stern was still
waving his arms; the log was almost in place. "George and May Wright
were killed last night. So was Farelli. If George and May had had a
child, the monster would have trampled it too--it went right through
their cabin like cardboard. It isn't fair to bring a baby into--"

Farrel said, "Fair, Mary? Maybe it isn't fair _not_ to have one. _Not_
to bring it into being and give it a chance. Life's always a gamble--"

"_It_ doesn't exist," Mary said. She smiled. "Don't try circumlocution
on me, Doc. I'm not religious. I don't believe that spermatozoa and an
ovum, if not allowed to cuddle up together, add up to murder."

"That isn't what I meant--"

"You were getting around to it--which means you've run out of good
arguments."

"No. I've a few left." Farrel looked at the two stubborn faces: Mary's,
pleasant and pretty, but set as steel; Ralph's, uncomfortable,
thoughtful, but mirroring his definite willingness to follow his wife's
lead.

Farrel cleared his throat. "You know how important it is that this
colony be established? You know that, don't you? In twenty years or so
the ships will start arriving. Hundreds of them. Because we sent a
message back to Earth saying we'd found a habitable planet. Thousands of
people from Earth, coming here to the new world we're supposed to get
busy and carve out for them. We were selected for that task--first of
judging the right planet, then of working it over. Engineers, chemists,
agronomists, all of us--we're the task force. We've got to do the job.
We've got to test, plant, breed, re-balance, create. There'll be a lot
of trial and error. We've got to work out a way of life, so the
thousands who will follow can be introduced safely and painlessly into
the--well, into the organism. And we'll need new blood for the jobs
ahead. We'll need young people--"

Mary said, "A few years one way or the other won't matter much, Doc.
Five or six years from now this place will be a lot safer. Then we women
will start producing. But not now."

"It won't work that way," Farrel said. "We're none of us kids any
longer. I'm fifty-five. Ralph, you're forty