"What are we going to do?" Gloria asked as she watched George wearing a path on the rug. "We've left it awfully late."
"I couldn't do anything else," George said. "We can't plead illness as I'd hoped to do. This afternoon the panel decided on a last minute independent medical check to be sure you're OK. That means I can't fake it and there's no time to give you a cold or some mild illness now. Somehow I've got to stall past the fertile period and then we will have another month to think of something."
"How long is the fertile period?"
"Our tests show that in your case it is approximately twenty-four hours and begins about midnight tonight."
"Couldn't I disappear for a day or pretend I'm frightened of having a baby and call it off? Goodness knows we're both getting frightened right now." She poured out two stiff drinks.
"You can't just quit, Gloria. The whole nation has been whipped up into hysteria over this business, both by the politicians in their anticommunist speeches and by the sponsors on Coloraudio system. I never dreamed it could put a whole country into orbit ... but it has. We'll both be ruined if I can't figure a way out that doesn't anger the public." He drained his glass and began pacing again.
"If I have to go on with it can't you at least do something to prevent conception?" Gloria asked. "I don't mean vaccination. I want to have children later. I can stand the ceremony if I know I won't become pregnant."
"In that case I could give you a shot of antiserum against sperm," George said. "That would stop pregnancy all right."
"Would it make me sterile for long?"
"Oh no ... no! I wouldn't use pooled serum from all types anyway. You see we make some specific serum when we are testing each donor and it works only against the sperm of that particular man."