To all that's hell—
Except those loving hands.
"We want to know," Duncan had been told, "what the devil is going on out there!"
"Why not cross-examine the returned miners?" Duncan had asked. The answer was simple. They wouldn't talk. There appeared to be a conspiracy to keep secret the significance of the song's suggestive last lines.
Never had a taint of immorality touched the Mars operation. When the first party of young women were included in the crew ten years ago, eyebrows had been raised. But subsequent returnees had given no cause for the slightest whisper of impropriety.
They couldn't afford to.
The rules were hard and uncompromising. On Mars, no female member of the company was allowed to associate with any male except in working hours and within the strictest limitations of her official duty. Twenty women and one hundred forty men lived in complete segregation. Violation of this rule imposed a $10,000 fine on each of the violators.
When Duncan had asked the obvious question he learned the fantastic truth: In spite of General Fission's world-wide recruiting campaign, they couldn't fill their quota of 80 men for the half shift change every other year. After the physical examinations reduced the thousands of applicants to a few hundred, the emotional tests took their toll. Of the remainder, 10 berths always remained open—the housekeeping, supply and medical care jobs went begging. Women were the only answer.
It was not difficult to recruit suitable female candidates for the 20 berths. The complications came with the problem of a mixed crew in isolation for over four years. Marriages would be inevitable if allowed. But in Mars' reduced atmospheric pressure pregnancy would be fatal to mother and child. Hence, the segregation rule.