their highest-rated women before we leave. By their Code it's mandatory,
since we can't hide the fact that we rate much higher than they
do--their highest rating is only Grade Two by our standards--and all the
planets hereabouts up-grade themselves with the highest-grade new blood
they can find. Ordinarily, they'd expect you two girls to become
pregnant by your choices of the top men of the planet; but they know you
wouldn't breed down and don't expect you to. But how in all hell can Jim
and I refuse to breed them up without dealing out the deadliest insult
they know?"

There was a minute of silence. "We can't," James said then. A grin began
to spread over his face. "It might not be too bad an idea, at that, come
to think of it. That ball of fire they picked out for you would be a
blue-ribbon dish in anybody's cook-book. And Grand Lady Lemphi--" He
kissed the tips of two fingers and waved them in the air. "Strictly Big
League Material; in capital letters."

"Is that nice, you back-alley tomcat?" Belle asked, plaintively; then
paused in thought and went on slowly, "I won't pretend to like it, but I
won't do any public screaming about it."

"Any anthropologist would say you'll have to," Lola declared without
hesitation. "I don't like it, either. I think it's horrible; but it's
excellent genetics and we cannot and must not violate systems-wide
mores."

"You're all missing the point!" Garlock snapped. He got up, jammed his
hands into his pockets, and began to pace the floor. "I didn't think any
one of you was _that_ stupid! If _that_ was all there were to it we'd do
it as a matter of course. But _think_, damn it! There's nothing higher
than Gunther Two in the humanity of this planet. Telepathy is the only
ESP they have. High Gunther uses hitherto unused portions of the brain.
It's transmitted through genes, which are dominant, cumulative, and
self-multiplying by interaction. Jim and I carry more, stronger, and
higher Gunther genes than any other two men known to live. Can
we--_dare_ we--plant such genes where none have ever been known before?"

Two full minutes of silence.

"That one has _really_ got a bone in it," James said, unhelpfully.

* * *

Three minutes more of silence.

"It's up to you, Lola," Garlock said then. "It's your field."

"I was afraid of that. There's a way. Personally, I like it less even
than the other, but it's the only one I've been able to think up. First,
a