me on the unworry drug robbed me of any chance I'd have to learn to stand the strains of City life. That even so I don't like the Playground either, and I'm caught between." He checked each item off on his fingers. "That—"

"That's enough, Larry. You've analyzed it nicely."

Slowly, the truth opened out before him and an embarrassed grin widened on his face. Resistance to strain could be acquired overnight—by nine out of ten. Nine out of ten didn't need a long, grueling childhood to prepare them for adulthood; the tenth would never grow up anyway.

"I've been worrying," he said. "I'm the worrying kind. I've been worrying since yesterday, and I didn't even know it!"

His father nodded. Larry took the capsule-box from its shelf, opened it, stared at the three different kinds of capsule inside. "There never really was any choice after all, was there?"

"No. Your choice was made yesterday morning. If you didn't have the stuff for City life, you'd have grabbed for the unworry capsule the second you saw it. But you didn't. You stopped to make a decision—and won your citizenship right then and there. You proved it to us—and by fighting with yourself over the decision you thought you still had to make, you proved it to yourself."

Larry's smile spread. "Sure. The ability to worry is the measure of successful City life," he said. "And I'm a regular worry wart already." The excitement of the past two days still thumped in his stomach—and it was only the beginning. "I belong here. Why—it won't be long before I'll get my first ulcer!"

His father was radiant with paternal pride. "Welcome to your heritage, son—the heritage of the civilized man. You've got the makings of a first-rate citizen!" 

 Prev. P 11/11