This was the first time Walter Pellinger had overstepped the boundaries of acceptable behavior. That he despised John Bridge, he had made clear from the beginning. Now he had come into the open. They all looked at him. Tarsh, who was nearest, seemed to find it amusing. "I've got nothing against you, Delman." Pellinger picked his words carefully. "You worked your passage like the rest of us, but _that_ fellow--" he pointed toward John Bridge--"has no right to be here at all. He's a nitwit and a nobody. You're a success and I'm a success. It's not luck, Delman; we both have ability. Call it natural selection, if you like. "Darwin did. We've fought for the chance to prolong our lives and, by doing so, we're able to marry again and have children and pass that ability down to them. Why, our lives are _essential_ to the human race!" "I should have thought there were sufficient chain-store magnates," said Tarsh. Walter Pellinger turned on him. "Don't tempt me, Jason. Your activities on Neptune and Arcturus won't bear close investigation." Jason Tarsh smiled and remained silent. There was little humor in his smile. That last remark had done much to heighten his opinion of Walter Pellinger. "To return to my point," Pellinger continued, "that man won a sweepstake. He's here not because he's intelligent, but because he's lucky, the something-for-nothing principle. A fat lot of use that is to the Universe. Why, his descendants will be as stupid as himself and there's no room for the manual laborer in this Age. It's an intolerable waste." "If I thought you believed any of that," said Delman, "I should be the first to respect your feelings. But we've been 'cooped up' together, to use your expression, for seven months and I know you better than your shareholders do. Oh, yes, you can put it across at a Board Meeting, this lofty idea of self-sacrifice and the sum of human good; but it isn't true and you know it. You're here for the same reason I'm here--because you're afraid to die. And that goes for all of us." He looked at each of them in turn, as if daring them to contradict him. "Yes, we've got ability, all right, and self-confidence. But what do we do with these fancied qualities? We use them to make money with which to buy back our youth." * * * * * Delman got to his feet and hobbled over toward the vidar screen. He stood with his back to the screen, looking down on them. "And what do we do with our youth?" he asked. "We use _that_ to make money for our old age. We have no choice. Not only is the price of rejuvenation extortionate in itself, but also, by a whim of the legislature, we are declared dead and the burden of 'death duty' falls on our estates. When we return, we return poor. And so the cycle continues--the endless quest for money, the means of perpetual preservation.