"Hot, I guess, for this weather," replied the ravenous captain.
"Very wise. Hot cereal for my guest. Here's the card."
The waiter took the card and scanned it carefully. "Cereal card. Very
good, Commissioner." He departed on a zig-zag course among the tables.
Herl was hungry and tired and furious at the commissioner for ordering
a full and appetizing-sounding dinner, but he smiled a well-trained
smile and got back to his business.
"This might be a good time for you to tell me about the Eyefers,
Commissioner. According to Miss Haulwell, it doesn't seem a very
desirable condition to be in; and yet you don't want them to leave the
planet. What's the story?"
"I'll have to start at the beginning and rush through eighty Delight
years of history to tell you ... that's about two hundred earth years.
"As you probably know, our people came here from Madrilune as
volunteers to prevent overpopulation there. They were a picked group of
urbanites accustomed to the benefits of social control and convinced
that lack of sound economic policy integrated with the daily life
of every citizen had been at the root of Madrilune's troubles. The
shortages of basic necessities to be found on any raw planet were
little greater here than they had been on crowded Madrilune ...
rationing was very strict and justice heavily enforced so that all
might have their chance to survive.
"Delightites are hard workers; and in about twenty of our years there
was an abundance of foodstuff, textiles, and housing; and, as Guildris
told you, we're really most enviably situated."
"What about all this rationing now?" Herl looked distastefully at the
green card still lying on the table.
Crawford pocketed the card. "I'm coming to that," he replied.
"The Chief Commissioner at that time was a Buford Finchley and the
great experiment Guildris talked about was his idea. From the beginning
here, there had been a certain small proportion of the population which
consistently seemed unable to cope with the regulation of life which
was necessary to a pioneer planet. Some of them starved when their
private holdings failed; some of them became criminals when their
families were exposed to want, leaving themselves and their families
to be supported by the remainder of the population. When there was
finally plenty of food and clothing and shelter for everybody and an
end to the rationing system was proposed, the wise Commissioner Buford
saw that such an end would put the weaker citizens at the mercy of
the acquisitiveness of the stronger and threaten the stronger by the
latent criminality of the weaker. He reasoned that no one needs more
than enough of the necessities of life and that submission to socially
beneficial regimentation was the mark of the socially adapted, the
fitted to survive in a civilized age. So he began the present program
of the most extensive control of the necessities and luxuries of life
and the Eyefers were part of the natural result. They are the unfitted.
"They forget to apply for many of their types of rations: they forget
the special ordinances for seasons and parts of the cities: they forget
to re-register for all permits when they change their addresses: some
of them even forget to earn enough to pay for both permits and food,
and let the food go and get all the permits and have to be hospitalized
for malnutrition ... they're Eyefers, too. They have a thousand
excuses, but they all boil down to, 'I fergot.'"