"Honestly now, Charlie, how long since we first suspected the Space Program would fail?" "I don't know, twenty years maybe." "Yes, which was when I began work on the problem. The goal, of course, was to regain our high standard of living. And we thought there were only two answers: move half the population off the planet, or--kill 'em. Those were the only alternatives. "But here I've come up with a third way: reduction in size. Can't you see what it means? As workers, these little people can produce as much as normal adults. Yet they need only half the food and yardage in clothes, smaller houses, smaller everything. Think of the tremendous savings in natural resources!" He paused. "I know you are terribly shocked," he resumed earnestly. "I was startled myself when the idea occurred. We've always thought progress meant bigness. The ideal man was six feet tall and all that. But it's bunk. Even when our standard of living was at record high, that ideal was still the exception. And since our time of trouble began, the average height has actually decreased by three inches." Hackett was shaking his head. "But dammit, you can't make 'em small all at once." "No, it's a long haul and it will take all kinds of courage for Congress to pass the laws. But if we don't start now, soon it will be too late. Here is my plan: "Some of us think the malnutrition and spreading disease are starting to stabilize the population at about one billion, which is still way too high. About fourteen million die each year; at present some fifteen million babies survive birth. "I can't work it on children over two years old. By then they're too tall. But if we stop the growth, right now, of the thirty million in that age group, allowing for natural mortality, in twenty years we'll have over two hundred million small people--a fifth of our number. At least it will give us some elbow room to attack our miserable standard of living." Still Hackett protested: "It would be rough. Nobody wants to be peewees." "I know, and there's another problem. At about age twenty, they'll be having their own kids. And midgets don't give birth to midgets. So we'd have to keep on with artificial dwarfing in perpetuity, except--" Justin had reached the most delicate point. "Well, I tackled it from another angle. What science has known for years is that it's the condition of the child in the womb during the first three months of pregnancy that regulates size. I developed a simple injection and diet, and I think the baby Doris delivers will be the answer." Hackett sprang to his feet. "You practiced on my niece? You cold-blooded louse!" * * * * * Justin held out a pleading hand.