"Why should the mothers object? When they have borne them, their task is done. It is we, the Sons, who have the tasks of collecting them and sending them to Washington for training there. It is we, the Sons, who have the task of fertilizing—"
"Only the Sons?"
"The males of the masses are sterile. That task is ours."
"There must be many Sons," said O'Hara.
"No, unfortunately. The ratio of Sons to masses constantly grows smaller and nowadays it is only by artificial insemination that the task can be accomplished. You will go this way," the Son said, indicating a door. "This is the Guild."
The chamber which they were now entering differed from the other immense halls of Emporia only in two particulars—the entrance through which they were passing consisted of double doors, like waterlocks, and in the center of the hall the metallic floor was cut away, with steps descending toward a series of still lower and smaller tunnels, the top halves of which had been removed. In one of these semi-exposed tunnels was resting at the moment a huge metal cylinder, some sixty feet long, with a hatch at its top into which various of the Sons were now descending, each bearing in his arms an infant, returning moments later empty-handed. After ten minutes of this, the last of the Sons emerged, the hatch was snapped shut and bolted, and the cylinder began moving, disappearing within a second past a valve into its tunnel.
A booming voice now filled the hall. The Sons turned from all sides toward a giant metal mirror, upon which, without apparent source, a brilliant light seemed reflected.
"The infants have departed?" asked the voice, and a chorus of the Sons answered in the stylized manner of a chant, "They have departed, Father."
"The man who flies has departed?"
"He has just arrived, Father."