"Yes, I was. I told you he was Gloria Manson's. Don't you remember when you met her?" "Soaring satellites!" Harmon exclaimed. "How could I forget? You introduced me to her." "Twenty years ago," Turner mused. "What a crazy week that was. I guess you were glad to get back to the Space Force." "In a way," Harmon agreed. "I've often wondered where you were since then. I never dreamed you'd be Dean of the Genetics Faculty when I came to the Space Engineering School." "I hope you'll like it here," George said. "They couldn't have picked a better Director." * * * * * The senator from Alaska had the floor. He had had it for several hours now and the chamber was almost empty as he droned on. "And so, gentlemen, I feel that the greatest state in the union, the only state that can afford to increase its population because there is still some unoccupied space, the only state where anti-conception vaccination is not compulsory until after four children instead of two, the state where ordinary people will have room to get out and exercise instead of being spectators, this state of Alaska, I say, is the only state that should be considered when we select a fine, virile American male as the father of America's Child of the Year. I would dare to go farther and say we should also provide the female, Mother America of 1995, except that our President, my fellow Alaskan, has generously decided that no one state can have both mother and father. Alaska is a man's country. It should provide the man ..." Wearily George Turner got up and turned off the colorvision. The political pressures were increasing rapidly; that was obvious. What had started as a national search for the most suitable future parents in America would soon be a free-for-all. He would have to give the committee his choice, and quickly! Back to his work he went; calculating possibilities, eliminating entrants one by one. The National Genetics Laboratory had been given the task of screening the finalists from each state and Turner, much against his will, had been selected by the Director to do the work. "George," he'd said one fateful morning, "I have a job for you." "What's that, sir?" "You've seen the report of this new contest being run by Dee Lish Baby Foods, haven't you?" "Can't say I have, sir. I've been working on that new sex gene. Haven't had time to read the papers." "Oh? Well it all started on their colorvision program, the one where they select the All American babies. You've seen it haven't you?" * * * * * Turner shook his head. "Sputtering sputniks! I know you're all wrapped up in your work but it doesn't have to be a shroud. You'd better get out into the world a little." The Director laid a friendly arm on George's shoulder. "This job will be just the thing." "What job?"