"I know, and there's another problem. At about age twenty, they'll be having their own kids. And midgets don't give birth to midgets. So we'd have to keep on with artificial dwarfing in perpetuity, except—"
Justin had reached the most delicate point.
"Well, I tackled it from another angle. What science has known for years is that it's the condition of the child in the womb during the first three months of pregnancy that regulates size. I developed a simple injection and diet, and I think the baby Doris delivers will be the answer."
Hackett sprang to his feet.
"You practiced on my niece? You cold-blooded louse!"
Justin held out a pleading hand.
"Please. I said it would take courage, more guts than the human race has ever known. But if my procedure succeeds with Doris, we'd adopt it as part of the normal pre-natal care for all prospective mothers. And in two generations anyone over three feet tall would be the exception."
Hackett was sneering.
"Has it occurred to the Great Nobel Mind that when we have finally be-littled ourselves, the foreign giants will move in and knock us off?"