"There are one hundred and sixty-two male high scientists upon this island," she said, coming forward and putting her arms around him, "but only one, solid, unimaginative, blessed technician. It makes a nice, even arrangement for us women, don't you think?" "Even enough," he said. And at that moment Turpan stepped out of the tent, and all of them looked. And looked. And Turpan, unable to face that battery of eyes, ran. Ran lightly and gracefully through the tent village toward the cliffs beyond. And all along that gauntlet there were catcalls and wolf whistles. "Don't worry," the Planner said. "She will come back to us. After all, there is a biological need."