Jay grinned. He'd met Ilaria's wife and five of his six children the night before. He turned to look out the window once more.
Beautiful. The elevated streets, with gyro-cars hurtling along ... the sky full of more winged gyros and planes ... the streets below full of happy, white-faced, white-clad people....
White-faced!
"Kevin, you avoided my question the day before yesterday. I've been almost afraid to ask you again. Why no Negroes?"
"It will be hard for you to accept, with your antiquated democratic ideas." Ilaria breathed a deep sigh. "Certain elements of dissension and unrest, Jay, are better eliminated. Coloreds have always bred both. People are just like that. Whites and yellows and tans and reds can get along, but not blacks."
Jay had gotten along with them all his life. "In ancient Rome there were slaves ..." he said, trying to understand.
"Not in this Rome. I said, better eliminated, Jay." Ilaria went to the window and looked down at the scene below. He explained:
"We exterminated them."
A hammer crashed down. A door slammed. A glass shattered. A siren screeched. A punch caught Jay in the solar plexus. Jay had experienced all these. Ilaria's flat statement was worse.
"Exter—No! Oh, No!" He swung around to face the big psychologist. Ilaria's usual smile was gone. He looked solemn and very grim.