Page:World Without Men (HT osu.32435053364535).pdf/121

The next morning Brad Somer returned to his apartment at the Waldorf. The night had been satisfactory, and if Rona fulfilled her promise then his assignment would be over. The story would be ready to break, and the world would know the truth about Sterilin, about childbirth, about the future. He sensed a certain abstract justice in the pattern of events. Man had chosen the inviting license of Sterilin-protected amorality, and nature had counterattacked, logically and inevitably, subtly undermining the entire erotic structure of contemporary society.

Women had chosen sterility in the interests of sexual freedom; nature had responded with a fine sense of irony by eliminating the male sex, and thereby setting a time limit on that freedom. The moral was difficult to define; Brad wasn't even sure if there was a moral. But somehow the blind scales of cosmic justice seemed to be exactly balanced.

Twenty minutes after reaching the Waldorf, he had a visitor. The internal phone rang, and reception announced the arrival of a certain Miss Lecia Tarrant. She came up to his room, raven-haired, green-eyed, rose-complexioned, and a little breathless. He kissed her briefly.

"I'm worried, Brad. I had to come. It's about Rona."

He regarded her questioningly. "She's all right, Lecia. I spent the night with her, and I'll be seeing her again this evening."

"That's just the point, Brad. Rona isn't here any more. Yesterday she was transferred to a government training center at Carlisle."

Brad's expression betrayed the disbelief of his mind.

"It's true, "Lecia went on anxiously. "She telephoned me late last night."