At the far end of the corridor a door slid open. There was sound, a hesitant sound. Kramer turned.
“Dolores!”
Dolores Kramer stood uncertainly, looking into the control room. She blinked in amazement. “Phil! What are you doing here? What’s going on?”
They stared at each other.
“What’s happening?” Dolores said. “I received a vidcall that you had been hurt in a lunar explosion—”
The wall speaker rasped into life. “You see, Philip, that problem is already solved. We don’t really need so many people; even a single couple might do.”
Kramer nodded slowly. “I see,” he murmured thickly. “Just one couple. One man and woman.”
“They might make it all right, if there were someone to watch and see that things went as they should. There will be quite a few things I can help you with, Philip. Quite a few. We’ll get along very well, I think.”
Kramer grinned wryly. “You could even help us name the animals,” he said. “I understand that’s the first step.”
“I’ll be glad to,” the toneless, impersonal voice said. “As I recall, my part will be to bring them to you, one by one. Then you can do the actual naming.”