"And how often has that been done?" Dr. Hoyt demanded.
"I think it's eleven times. Isn't that right, dear?"
"No, sweet," said Mr. Fallon. "Thirteen."
Dr. Kalmar could have interrupted, but he considered it wiser to let his assistant learn the hard way. Miss Dupont was enjoying it too much to interfere.
"We've made him tall and we've made him short, skinny, fat, bulging with muscle, red hair, black hair, blond hair, gray hair—I don't know, just about everything in the book," said Mrs. Fallon, "and I simply can't seem to find one I'd like for keeps."
"Then why the devil don't you get another husband?"
Mrs. Fallon looked shocked. "Why, he was assigned to me!"
"Dr. Hoyt just came from Earth," Dr. Kalmar cut in at last, before a brawl could start. "He's not familiar with our methods."
"Let's hear the cockeyed reason," Dr. Hoyt said resignedly.
"We keep our population balanced," said Dr. Kalmar. "Too many of either sex creates tension, hostility, loss of efficiency; look at Earth if you want proof. We can't risk even a little of that, so we use prenatal sex control to keep them exactly equal."