The Examiner, who had often heard such vain pleas, rapped his desk with the blood-analyscope. "The Komitet is far too wise to permit socially unnecessary extensions of the life span, just as it does not permit unlicensed time travel. What would happen if we allowed you to be rejuvenated, and then permitted extra-terrestial emigration? There would be millions of old or sick people like you demanding equal treatment and equal consideration. Before long the planets and asteroids would be overpopulated and independent colonies set up thereon which would eventually come in conflict with the Home Planet Komitet. No, my friend, the Komitet is wise in decreeing that rejuvenation and human birth are mutually contradictory. Rather than sacrifice birth, with the consequent stagnation of the human species, the Komitet has decided rigidly to control youth-extensions, and grants those periods of additional life only to the socially valuable." "Yes," Donovan said bitterly, "the Komitet keeps itself immortal while the rest of us have to die." The Examiner's voice was hard. "Shall I denounce you to the C.D.?" "I beg forgiveness," Donovan said; "your decision is a just one and I shall make no appeal." * * * * * Blascomb had a very persistent thought-call. Donovan relaxed in the office chair and let his consciousness-levels sink to the call-number. "This is the moment," the thought patterns registered. "The C.D. is about to close in with the faked evidence we've prepared. Your brother-in-law's about to call. Trust in me; all is ready. Do not become frightened, for excessive adrenalin might upset the required endocrine balance." Before he could frame a reply, Blascomb's thought faded away. The office door slid open and Edel W. Crane walked in. Donovan's heart throbbed painfully: was this an unexpected crisis in their plans, or had Blascomb prepared even this? "The C.D.'s finished its analysis," Crane said, "I thought you might be interested." "Naturally, I--" "The case was very simple. I wish citizens would realize that they cannot fight against the enormous resources of the C.D. We will destroy--" The public-screen flashed urgently. Donovan excused himself and turned the knob. His brother-in-law's angry face switched into view. "Donovan! That was a dirty rotten thing to do. What right did you have to denounce me to the C.D.? I should kill you for this!" Donovan's bewilderment was genuine. He felt Crane's eyes upon him, and a thrill of admiration for Blascomb's genius suddenly swept through him. "What do you want?" he managed to say. "I've got to see you immediately. I'm downstairs, in back of the pilo-cab station." "Later--" "Now!" The image snapped off. Donovan turned to the C.D. agent. "'Scuse me for a moment," he stammered, "some family trouble. I'll be back in a short while." Crane glanced up. "I'll wait."