wheatlands scorched to desert by the thermonuclears? New England swept by epidemics of anthrax and tularemia? All China tortured by starvation and the hundred nagging sicknesses that follow hunger?"

"Yes, I remember." The Secretary rolled his pen between his fingers, staring at it. "How do you intend to—liquidate—the excess two billions?"

"I can't explain it to you; you lack the basic knowledge. It will be quick and painless though, I promise. Then Earth will see peace and hope; a new start!"

"I couldn't take all the responsibility for this decision upon myself," the Secretary said. He glanced hopefully toward the Assistant and the young man in uniform. Their eyes flinched away.

"You might take a vote," suggested the man from Mars. He picked up the Secretary's scratch pad and ripped off three sheets of paper. "Just mark Yes or No. I will respect your decision: after all, I'm only here to help you."

The Secretary stared at the slip of paper lying on his desk. He glanced toward the other two humans for encouragement; but the Assistant was staring at the wall across the room, and the young man in uniform was silently contemplating the carpet at his feet.

Convulsively the Secretary scooched the paper toward him and scribbled his vote. Folding the paper, he looked demandingly toward his two companions. The young man in uniform looked up, then turned to hold his paper against the wall as he wrote his decision. The Assistant remained seated, holding the paper on top of a book while he lettered out his vote.

The man from Mars collected the three ballots, unfolded them, and read the three votes. "It's two to one," he announced. He crushed the papers into small, white pellets and tossed them out the open window. "What I have to do will be finished by noon tomorrow."

The man from Mars left the room, closing the door very softly behind him. The other three sat silent a moment and then got up and left without looking one another in the face.

The next day the Secretary and the Assistant sat in the office, staring at the clock above the door. At twelve-oh-seven the door slammed open for the young man in uniform.

"Is it done?" the Assistant asked.

"Done? Of course, it's done!" The young man in uniform leaned against the door and shook with 

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