I thought about that, too. I knew I wouldn't be able to carry off my masquerade forever. I wouldn't want to. The stringent physical examination given on landing would pierce my disguise easily. But by that time it would be too late. I'd _be_ there, out among the stars. And no Earthbound spaceship captain would carry my mass back instead of precious cargo. I'd stay. If they wanted me for a breeder then--okay. In spite of my slight build and lack of physical strength, I'd still be where I wanted to be. In the fey lands in the sky.... "I wish you all the luck in the world, Kim," my friend said. "I really do. I don't mean to throw cold water on your scheme. You know how few of _us_ are permitted off-world. Every one who makes it is a--" he grinned ruefully--"a blow struck for equality." He savored the irony of it for a moment and then his face grew serious again. "It's just that the more I think of what you've done, the more convinced I am that you can't get away with it. Forged applications. Fake fingerprints and X-rays. And _this_--" He made a gesture that took in all of my appearance. Flesh, hair, clothes. Everything. "What the hell," I said. "It's good, isn't it?" "Very good. In fact, you make me uncomfortable, it's so good. But it's too damned insane." "Insane enough to work," I said. "And it's the only chance. How do you think I'd stack up with the Eugenics Board? Not a chance. What they want out there is big muscle boys. Tough breeders. This is the only way for me." "Well," Kane said. "You're big enough now, it seems to me." "Had to be. Lots to cover up. Lots to add." "And you're all set? Packed and ready?" "Yes," I said. "All set." "Then I guess this is it." He extended his hand. I took it. "Good luck, Kim. Always," he said huskily. "I'll hear if you make it. All of us will. And we'll be cheering and thinking that maybe, before we're all too old, we can make it, too. And if not, that maybe our sons will--without having to be prize bulls, either." He turned in the doorway and forced a grin. "Don't forget to write," he said. * * * * * The spacefield was streaked with the glare of floodlights, and the ship gleamed like a silvery spire against the desert night. I joined the line of passengers at the checking desk, my half-kilo of baggage clutched nervously against my side. My heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation, my muscles twitching under the unaccustomed tension of the plastiflesh sheath that hid me. All around me were the smells and sounds and sights of a spaceport, and above me were the stars, brilliant and close at hand in the dark sky. The queue moved swiftly toward the checking desk, where a gray-haired officer with a seamed face sat. The voice of the timekeeper came periodically from the loudspeakers around the perimeter of the field. "_Passengers for the Martian Queen, check in at desk five. It is now H minus forty-seven._"