Mary held the ruler firmly and allowed the pen to travel down the metal edge effortlessly. The new black lines were small and accurate. She tipped her head, compared the notes beside her to the plan she was working on. She noticed the beautiful people looking at her more furtively than before, and she wondered about this as she made her lines. A tall man rose from his desk in the rear of the office and walked down the aisle to Mary's table. He surveyed her work, allowing his eyes to travel cautiously from her face to the draft. Mary looked around. "Nice job," said the man. "Thank you, Mr. Willmes." "Dralich shouldn't have anything to complain about. That crane should hold the whole damn city." "It's very good alloy, sir." "Yeah. Say, kid, you got a minute?" "Yes sir." "Let's go into Mullinson's office." The big handsome man led the way into a small cubby-hole of a room. He motioned to a chair and sat on the edge of one desk. "Kid, I never was one to beat around the bush. Somebody called in little while ago, gave me some crazy story about you not wanting the Transformation." Mary said "Oh." Daddy had said it would have to happen, some day. This must be what he meant. "I would've told them they were way off the beam, but I wanted to talk to you first, get it straight." "Well, sir, it's true. I don't. I want to stay this way." The man looked at Mary and then coughed, embarrassedly. "What the hell--excuse me, kid, but--I don't exactly get it. You, uh, you saw the psychiatrist?" "Yes sir. I'm not insane. Dr. Hortel can tell you." "I didn't mean anything like that. Well--" the man laughed nervously. "I don't know what to say. You're still a cub, but you do swell work. Lot of good results, lots of comments from the stations. But, Mr. Poole won't like it." "I know. I know what you mean, Mr. Willmes. But nothing can change my mind. I want to stay this way and that's all there is to it." "But--you'll get old before you're half through life." Yes, she would. Old, like the Elders, wrinkled and brittle, unable to move right. Old. "It's hard to make you understand. But I don't see why it should make any difference." "Don't go getting me wrong, now. It's not me, but, you know, I don't own Interplan. I just work here. Mr. Poole likes things running smooth and it's my job to carry it out. And soon as everybody finds out, things wouldn't run smooth. There'll be a big stink. The dames will start asking questions and talk." "Will you accept my resignation, then, Mr. Willmes?" "Sure you won't change your mind?" "No sir. I decided that a long time ago. And I'm sorry now that I told Mother or anyone else. No sir, I won't change my mind." "Well, I'm sorry, Mary. You been doing awful swell work. Couple of years you could be centralled on one of the asteroids, the way you been working. But if you should change your mind, there'll always be a job for you here." "Thank you, sir." "No hard feelings?" "No hard feelings."