Vivian murmured, "You ain't just a whistlin', honey. But we don't mind. You do what you want with your time, honey." He tried to smile politely, but went on. "It has come to the point where few women read to any extent and most learning has fallen into the hands of the men--few as we are." Sally said impatiently, "What has this got to do with the prisoners, Alan dear?" It would seem that he had ignored her when he said, "I have been discussing the matter with Warren of the Turtle clan and two or three other men with whom I occasionally come in contact. At the rate the race is going, there will be no men left at all in another few generations." There was quiet in the long hall. Deathly quiet. Sally said, "How ... how do you mean, dear?" "I mean our present system can't go on. It isn't working." "Of course it's working," Vivian snapped. "Here we are aren't we? It's always worked, it always will. Here's the clan. You're our husband. After we've had you for twenty years, we'll trade you to another clan for their husband--prevents interbreeding. If you have a fertile son, the clan will either split, each half taking one husband, or we'll trade him off for land, or guns, or whatever else is valuable. Of course, it works." He shook his head, stubbornly. "Things are changing. For a generation or two after bomb day, we were in chaos. By time things cleared we were divided as we are now, in clans. However, we were still largely able to exist on the canned goods, the animals, left over from the old days. There was food and guns for all and only a few of the men were sterilies." Vivian began to say something again, but he shook a hand negatively at her, pleading for silence. "No, I'm not talking about myth-legend now. Warren's great-grandfather, whom he knew as a boy, remembers when there were four times or more the number of men we have today and when the sterilies were very few." Vivian said impatiently, "What's this got to do with the prisoners? There they are. We can kill them or let them go. If we let them go, they'll be coming back, six months from now, to take another crack at us. Alan is cute as a button, but I don't think he should meddle in women's affairs." But most of them were silent. They looked up at him, waiting for him to go on. "I suppose," Sally said, "that you're coming to a point, dear?" He nodded, his face tight. "I'm coming to the point. The point is that we've got to change the basis of clan society. This isn't working any more--if it ever did. There's such a thing as planned breeding ..." it had been hard to say this, and the younger women in the audience, in particular, tittered "... and we're going to have to think in terms of it." Sally had flushed. She said now, "A certain dignity is expected at a clan meeting, Alan dear. But just what did you mean?"