"Very well," said Trigg, tugging at his beard. "As I see it, we have four aims to consider.
"First, trying to establish contact with any survivors. Second, securing our own continued existence. Third, the survival of the race." He paused and frowned, then added, "And lastly preserving our heritage of knowledge." He came to a stop, his eyes on their tense faces. "Does anyone wish to add anything?"
No one did.
"Very well," said Trigg. "Suppose we take up the last item first. We are all specialists in some branch of science. Together we cover the extant field of knowledge rather thoroughly. Louisville is near. It has a large library and there is a fine technical school with laboratories and a library of its own. Those books should be preserved. It might even be advisable for us to move to the campus.
"Expeditions can be sent to other cities to cull the cream of their shelves. We should set ourselves to instruct the children—"
"What children?" Barb Poindexter interrupted. She was the psychiatrist, a plump brown-haired woman with ample curves.
"Your children. You aren't over thirty-three, Miss Poindexter." The director made rapid mental calculations. "You should be able to produce a minimum of seven children."
Miss Poindexter gasped, regarded the grinning men in horror and got very red.
"No occasion to be embarrassed," said Trigg. "Most natural thing in the world."
He glared about the audience. No one seemed inclined to dispute his assertion, so he went on.