The glare of the lights inside the office blinded her for a moment. When she could focus them again, her smile became slightly blurry at the edges and then disappeared entirely. She wasn't alone. There was a battery of chairs against one side of the room. She recognized most of the girls sitting in them. She forced a smile to her lips and tried to laugh. "I'm sure there's been some mistake! Why, I never...." The young man coughed politely. "I'm afraid there's been no mistake. Full name, please." "Suzanne Carstens," she said grimly, and gave the other statistics he wanted. She idly wondered what stoolie had peddled the phone numbers. "Suzanne Carstens," the young man noted, and slowly shook his head. "A very pretty name, but no doubt not your own. It actually doesn't matter, though. Take a seat over there." She did as he asked and he faced the entire group. "I and the other gentlemen here represent the Colonization Board. We've interceded with the local authorities in order to offer you a choice. We would like to ship you out to the colony planets. Naturally, we will pay you the standard emigration bonus of five hundred dollars. The colonists need wives; they offer you--security." He stressed the word slightly. "Now, of course, if you don't prefer the colony planets, you can stay behind and face the penalties of ten years in jail and a fine of ten thousand dollars." Suzanne felt that her lower jaw needed support. Ten thousand dollars and ten years! And in either case she'd lose the apartment she had worked so hard for, her symbol of security. "Well, what do you say?" There was a dead silence. The young man from the Colonization Board turned to Suzanne. "How about you, Miss Carstens?" She smiled sickly and nodded her head. "I _love_ to travel!" she said. It didn't sound at all witty even to herself. VI The transfer shed was a vast and somber terminal, cold and impersonal. There was a cleared space at the center of the floor where the officials had desks and tables and rows of filing cabinets and busily clicking machinery. The women sat huddled around the edges of the shed, waiting to be called to the center and assigned to any of the various colony planets. Phyllis clutched her small suitcase, containing the few personal items she had been allowed to take on the trip, and silently swore that once she set foot on another planet, she'd never leave it, no matter what. "Draft 49 for the Huffer Solar System report to the routing desk! Draft 49 for the Huffer Solar System report to the routing desk!" "That's us," Suzanne said drily. She and Phyllis and Ruby joined the others out on the floor. "You understand," the routing official was saying, "that you're allowed your choice of planets in the Huffer Solar System. We'll read off occupational and other pertinent information and then you make your choice.