ression. And they must be stopped. Leffingwell has
the only answer."

"They won't buy it," warned the Secretary. "Congress won't, and the
voters won't, any more than they bought birth-control. And this is
worse."

"I know that, too." The President rose and walked over to the window,
looking out at the sky-scraper apartments which loomed across what had
once been the Mall. He was trying to find the dwarfed spire of
Washington's Monument in the tangled maze of stone.

"If I go before the people and sponsor Leffingwell, I'm through.
Through as President, through with the Party. They'll crucify me. But
somebody in authority must push this project. That's the beginning.
Once it's known, people will have to think about the possibilities.
There'll be opposition, then controversy, then debate. And gradually
Leffingwell will gain adherents. It may take five years, it may take
ten. Finally, the change will come. First through volunteers. Then by
law. I only pray that it happens soon."

"They'll curse your name," the Secretary said. "They'll try to kill
you. It's going to be hell."

"Hell for me if I do, yes. Worse hell for the whole world if I don't."

"But are you quite sure it will work? His method, I mean?"

"You saw the reports on his tests, didn't you? It works, all right.
We've got more than just abstract data, now. We've got films for the
telescreenings all set up."

"Films? You mean you'll actually _show_ what the results are? Why,
just telling the people will be bad enough. And admitting the
government sponsored the project under wraps. But when they _see_,
nothing on earth can save you from assassination."

"Perhaps. It doesn't really matter." The President crushed his
cigarette in the ashtray. "One less mouth to feed. And I'm getting
pretty sick of synthetic meals, anyway."

President Winthrop turned to the Secretary, his eyes brightening
momentarily. "Tell you what, Art. I'm not planning on breaking the
proposal to the public until next Monday. What say we have a little
private dinner party on Saturday evening, just the Cabinet members and
their wives? Sort of a farewell celebration, in a way, but we won't
call it that, of course? Chef tells me there's still twenty pounds of
hamburger in the freezers."

"Twenty pounds of hamburger? You mean it?" The Secretary of State was
smiling, too.

"That's right." The President of the United States grinned in
anticipation. "Been a long time since I've tasted a rea