said.... "Tower to G43221," the radio crackled. "Are you ready?" Garvey hesitated, wishing he knew what Starbuck had been hinting at. Maybe he should stop now, while there was still time. Then he thought of the giant crate in the after cabin, and its contents, waiting for activation, waiting for him. His pulse began to race. He knew that he was going through with it, no matter what the risk. He signalled to the tower, and strapped himself into the control chair. An hour later he was in space. Twelve hours later, Garvey cut his jets. He was a long way from Earth, but nowhere near Luna. His detectors, pushed to their utmost limit, showed nothing in his vicinity. No liners were going by, no freighters, no police ships, no yachts. He was alone. Nothing and no one was going to disturb him. He went into the after cabin. The packing case was just as he had left it, securely fastened to the deck. Even the sight of it was vaguely exciting. Garvey pressed the activating stud on the outside of the case, and sat down to wait for the contents to awaken and come to life. The surrogates had been developed earlier in the century. They had come about from sheer necessity. At that time, mankind was beginning to push out into the galaxy. Bases had been established on Venus, Mars and Titan, and the first interstellar ships were arriving at Algol and Stagoe II. Man was leaving Earth. Man—but not woman. The first settlements were barely toeholds in alien environments. The work was harsh and demanding, and life expectancy was short. Whole settlements were sometimes wiped out before the ships were fully unloaded. The early pioneers were like soldiers on the line of battle, and exposed to risks no soldier had ever encountered. Later there would be a place for women. Later—but not now. So here and there, light-years from Earth, were little worlds without women—and not happy about it. The men grew sullen, quarrelsome, violent. They grew careless, and carelessness on an alien planet was usually fatal. They wanted women.
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