planetoid. After propagating, at the age of twenty-one, they have a death drive, just as many insects and fish do. To balance this drive, we bring in a bunch of insane murderers from Earth. In this culture, a killer becomes the norm, accepted, happy. Thus we transform insanity into sanity. Roughly, anyway. If you like that kind of sanity." He slapped his knee, went to the radio. "Hello, Planetoid One-Oh-One, Radio! A bit of trouble. All okay. We met the Ones Who Want to Die, rather than the Killers. Lucky, I'd say." "Very," said the radio. "We've got your bearing. There should be a ship to you in an hour. Hold on." Helen was by the port, staring out. "Insane. Insane, all of them." "To us, yes," said John. "To themselves, no. Their culture is sane to itself and all inhabitants within it. That's all that counts." "I don't understand." "Take a man who wants eighty-nine wives. On Earth he goes insane because he can't have them. He's frustrated. Bring him out here to the asteroids, put him on a planet full of women where marriage in triplicate is okay, and he becomes the norm, becomes happy." "Oh." "On Earth we tend to try to fit square pegs in round holes. It doesn't work. In the asteroids we've got a hole for every peg, no matter what shape. On Earth if pegs don't fit we hammer them until they split. We can't change our culture to fit them, that would be silly and inconvenient. But we can bring them out to the asteroids. There are cultures here, thousands of years old, convenient, preferable." He got up. "I need a drink. I feel terrible." The rescue ship arrived within the hour. It came down out of space and landed neatly on the asteroid plateau. "Hello there," the pilot said. "Hello yourself!" They got aboard, Alice, John, Helen, and—Lisabeth. Their ship was to be towed into a repair port and returned to them later, on Earth. "I want to call Chicago," said Helen, instantly, when they reached port. John sighed. "We have us a close shave, and all you want to do is call Chicago. William, again?"
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