Rasmussen ushered me into a wood-sheathed room. A toothie thrust his
striped head from a crack, squeaked once, and withdrew. About fifteen
people sat at a table. Sighting me, one woman screamed, and all the
females, including a girl about eight, pushed back their stools. "Sit
down," Rasmussen commanded. "Will be no menace here."
Rasmussen placed me at a small table in the corner and occupied a stool
opposite me. He said, "Ordinances forbid close contact between alien
males and Maggiese females. Eating together, too dangerous." A young
man set a plate and cup before Rasmussen, who said, "Emilio, serve the
alien also."
Emilio furnished me with a bewildering assortment of bowls, cups,
plates, and utensils, while glowering as if I had stolen his x-tops.
The soup smelled somewhat like the preservative on the city walls, but
I was too starved to care. "Do you know Betty Toal?" I took time to
ask. "I seem to have caused her trouble with the authorities. I want to
help her if possible."
"Needs no help," Rasmussen said. "Has reached her goal. With your
assistance, has broken laws until must be deported. Was scheduled to
marry the pilot, Olaf Ypsilanti."
"Marry Ypsilanti!" I choked on the soup.
"A fine man," Rasmussen said. "The girl's reaction is odd."
I started on a mixture containing cubes of meat and exotic vegetables.
The people at the large table had stopped eating and fixed me with
disconcerting stares. I said, "It's hard to tell you people apart."
"Those are children, grandchildren, in-laws," Rasmussen explained. "All
true Maggiese resemble each other. Is the Joe Nordo Plan. Someday,
except for age and sex, all Maggiese will be alike."
"I thought Planet Maggie had only been settled two centuries. You
surely must have developed new genetic techniques for everyone to be
this much alike so soon."
"No. Hereditary Controls Council hunts new ways. Attempt to count and
identify human genes with devices they invented. Plan all marriages
and calculate appearance of offspring. Much guessing. Still have
Mongoloids, blonds, even red hair." Rasmussen glanced at my red hair.
I ate coarse bread and drank juice with unknown flavors. I asked, "Why
make such a bother over looks?"
Rasmussen frowned. "Joe Nordo said, 'To be alike is to be free.' When
men are exactly the same, envy, suspicion, prejudice, other evils
vanish. Already Planet Maggie stands alone. Only true democracy in
the Explored Galaxy. Jury is chosen by the people. Ordinances these
men provide must pass in referendum with a ninety per cent majority.
Farmers, of course, do not vote. His Perfectness the Joe Nordo Ideal is
but an honored figurehead, the man who most resembles Joe Nordo."
I said, "The people actually vote for these stu--uh, for these
Ordinances?"
"Of course. Their right."
Outside, the sky was now completely dark except when streaked with
chains of lightning. Rumbling thunder rattled the windows.