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.
Since real women could not go to them, scientists on Earth developed substitutes. Android females were developed, the surrogates, and shipped to the colonies. It was a violation of Earth’s morals; but there were worse violations on the way if these weren’t accepted.
For a while, everything seemed to be fine. It would probably have gone on that way, had everyone left well enough alone.
But the companies on Earth had the usual desire to improve their product. They called in sculptors and artists to dress up the appearance of the package. Engineers tinkered with the surrogates, rewired them, built in subtler stimulus-response mechanisms, did strange things with conditioned reflexes. And the men of the settlements were very happy with the results.
So happy, in fact, that they refused to return to human women, even when they had the opportunity.
They came back to Earth after their tours of duty, these pioneers, and they brought their surrogates with them. Loud and long they praised the substitute women, and pointed out their obvious superiority to neurotic, nervous, frigid human women.
Naturally, other men wanted to try out the surrogates. And when they did, they were pleasantly surprised. And spread the word. And—
The government stepped in, quickly and firmly. For one thing, over fifty percent of the votes were at stake. But more important, social scientists predicted a violent drop in the birth rate if this went on. So the government destroyed the surrogates, outlawed the factories, and told everyone to return to normal.
And reluctantly, everyone did. But there were always some men who remembered, and told other men. And there were always some men who weren’t satisfied with second-best. So...
Garvey heard movements within the crate. He smiled to himself, remembering stories he had heard of the surrogates’ piquant habits. Suddenly there was a high-pitched clanging. It was the standby alarm from the control room. He hurried forward.
It was an emergency broadcast, on all frequencies, directed to Earth and all ships at space. Garvey tuned it in.
“’This is Edward Danzer,” the radio announced crisply. “I am Chief of the Washington branch of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. You have all heard, on your local newscasts, of the detection and closure of an illegal sexual substitute factory. And you know that all except one of the surrogates have been found. This message is for the man who has that last surrogate, wherever he may be.”
Garvey licked his lips nervously and hunched close to the radio. Within the after cabin, the surrogate was still making waking-up noises.
“That man is in danger!” Danzer said. “Serious danger! Our investigation of the molds and forms used in the factory showed us that something strange was going on. Just this morning, one of the factory technicians finally confessed.
“The missing surrogate is not an Earth model!
“I repeat,” Danzer barked, “the missing surrogate is not an Earth model! The factory operators had been filling orders for the planet Algol IV. When they ran short of Earth models for humans, they substituted an Algolian model. Since the sale of a surrogate is illegal anyhow, they figured the customer would have no kickback.”
Garvey sighed with relief. He had been afraid he had a small dinosaur in the packing case, at the very least.
“Perhaps,” Danzer continued, “the holder of the Algolian surrogate does not appreciate his danger yet. It is true, of course, that the Algolians are of the species homo sapiens. It has been established that the two races share a common ancestry in the primeval past. But Algol is different from our Earth.
“The planet Algol IV is considerably heavier than Earth, and has a richer oxygen atmosphere. The Algolians, raised in this physical environment, have a markedly superior musculature to that of the typical Earthman. Colloquially, they are strong as rhinos.
“But the surrogate, of course, does not know this. She has a powerful and indiscriminate mating drive. That’s where the danger lies! So I say to the customer —give yourself up now, while there’s still time. And remember: crime does not pay.”
The radio crackled static, then hummed steadily. Garvey turned it off. He had been taken, but good! He really should have inspected his merchandise before accepting it. But the crate had been sealed.
He was out a very nice chunk of money.
But, he reminded himself, he had lots of money. It was fortunate he had discovered the error in time. Now he would jettison the crate in space, and return to Earth. Perhaps real girls were best, after all...
He heard the sound of heavy blows coming from the crate in the after cabin.
“I guess I’d better take care of you, honey,” Garvey said, and walked quickly to the cabin.
A fusillade of blows rocked the crate. Garvey frowned and reached for the de-activating switch. As he did so, one side of the heavy crate splintered. Through the opening shot a long golden arm. The arm flailed wildly, and Garvey moved out of its way.
The situation wasn’t humorous any more, he decided. The case rocked and trembled under the impact of powerful blows. Garvey estimated the force behind those blows, and shuddered. This had to be stopped at once. He ran toward the crate.
Long, tapered fingers caught his sleeve, ripping it off. Garvey managed to depress the de-activating stud and throw himself out of range.
There was a moment of silence. Then the surrogate delivered two blows with the impact of a pile driver. An entire side of the packing case splintered.
It was too late for de-activation.
Garvey backed away. He was beginning to grow alarmed. The Algolian sexual substitute was preposterously strong; that seemed to be how they liked them on Algol. What passed for a tender love embrace on Algol would probably fracture the ribs of an Earthman. Not a nice outlook.
But wasn’t it likely that the surrogate- had some sort of discriminatory sense built in? Surely she must be able to differentiate between an Earthman and an Algolian. Surely . . .
The packing case fell apart, and the surrogate emerged.
She was almost seven feet tall, and gloriously, deliciously constructed. Her skin was a light golden-red, and her shoulder-length hair was lustrous black. Standing motionless, she looked to Garvey like a heroic statue of ideal femininity.
The surrogate was unbelievably beautiful—
And more dangerous than a cobra, Garvey reminded himself reluctantly.
“Well there,” Garvey said, gazing up at her, “as you can see, a mistake has been made.”
The surrogate stared at him with eyes of deepest gray.
“Yes ma’am,” Garvey said, with a nervous little laugh, “it’s really a ridiculous error. You, my dear, are an Algolian. I am an Earthman. We have nothing in common. Understand?”
Her red mouth began to quiver.
“Let me explain,” Garvey went on. “You and I are from different races. That’s not to say I consider you ugly. Quite the contrary! But unfortunately, there can never be anything between us, miss.”
She looked at him uncomprehendingly.
“Never,” Garvey repeated. He looked at the shattered packing case. “You don’t know your own strength. You’d probably kill me inadvertently. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
The surrogate murmured something deep in her beautiful throat.
“So that’s the way it is,” Garvey said briskly. “You stay right here, old girl. I’m going to the control room. We’ll land on Earth in a few hours. Then I’ll arrange to have you shipped to Algol. The boys’ll really go for you on Algol! Sounds good, huh?”