k of a
barbarism that threatened to engulf us."

"Nonsense," Thurmon murmured.

"What?"

"Sheer nonsense, Littlejohn. You're talking like a pedant."

"But I _am_ a pedant." Littlejohn nodded. "And it's true. When the
Naturalists were exterminated, this nation and other nations were
literally destroyed. Worse than physical destruction was the threat of
mental and moral collapse. But the Yardstick councils arose to take
over. The concept of small government came into being and saved us. We
began to rebuild on a sensible scale, with local, limited control. The
little community arose--"

"Spare me the history lesson," said Thurmon, dryly. "We rebuilt, yes.
We survived. In a sense, perhaps, we even made certain advances. There
is no longer any economic rivalry, no social distinctions, no external
pressure. I think I can safely assume that the danger of future
warfare is forever banished. The balance of power is no longer a
factor. The balance of Nature has been partially restored. And only
one problem remains to plague mankind."

"What is that?"

"We face extinction," Thurmon said.

"But that's not true," Littlejohn interrupted. "Look at history and--"

"Look at us." Thurmon sighed. "You needn't bother with history. The
answer is written in our faces, in our own bodies. I've searched the
past very little, compared to your scholarship, but enough to know
that things were different in the old days. The Naturalists, whatever
else they might have been, were strong men. They walked freely in the
land, they lived lustily and long.

"Do you know what our average life-expectancy is today, Littlejohn? A
shade under forty years. And that only if one is fortunate enough to
lead a sheltered existence, as we do. In the mines, in the fields, in
the radioactive areas, they die before the age of thirty."

Littlejohn leaned forward. "Schuyler touches on just that point in his
_Psychology of Time_," he said, eagerly. "He posits the relationship
between size and duration. Time is relative, you know. Our lives,
short as they may be in terms of comparative chronology, nevertheless
have a subjective span equal to that of the Naturalists in their
heyday."

"Nonsense," Thurman said, again. "Did you think that is what concerns
me--whether or not we feel that our lives are long or short?"

"What then?"

"I'm talking about the basic elements essential to survival. I'm
talking about strength, stamina, endurance, the ability to functi