"You do not volunteer to give up your own oversupply of food," said Affare.

"I am human and selfish, and my own action would mean little. I should not be asked to volunteer. I should be given no choice in the matter."

"You are a romantic," said Affare. "Do you fail to see that the Earth is a lifeboat? If the food store is divided equally among all, then all will die. If some are cast out of the lifeboat, the remainder will survive. The question is not whether some will die, for some must die; the question is whether some will live."

"Are you advocating triage-the sacrifice of some for the rest-officially?"

"We can't. The people in the lifeboat are armed. Several regions threaten openly to use nuclear weapons if more food is not forthcoming."

Rodman said sardonically, "You mean the answer to 'you die that I may live' is 'If I die, you die.'…An impasse."

"Not quite," said Affare. "There are places on Earth where the people cannot be saved. They have overweighted their land hopelessly with hordes of starving humanity. Suppose they are sent food, and suppose the food kills them so that the land requires no further shipments."

Rodman felt the first twinge of realization. "Kills them how?" he asked.

"The average structural properties of the cellular membranes of a particular population can be worked out. An LP, particularly designed to take advantage of those properties, could be incorporated into the food supply, which would then be fatal," said Affare.

"Unthinkable," said Rodman, astounded.

"Think again. There would be no pain. The membranes would slowly close off and the affected person would fall asleep and not wake up-an infinitely better death than that of starvation which is otherwise inevitable-or nuclear annihilation. Nor would it be for everyone, for any population varies in its membranal properties. At worst, seventy per cent will die. The winnowing out will be done precisely where overpopulation and hopelessness are worst and enough will be left to preserve each nation, each ethnic group, each culture."

"To deliberately kill billions-"

"We would not be killing. We would merely supply the opportunity for people to die. Which particular individuals would die would depend on the particular biochemistry of those individuals. It would be the finger of God."

"And when the world discovers what has been done?"

"That will be after our time," said Affare, "and by then, a flourishing world with limited population will thank us for our heroic action in choosing the death of some to avoid the death of all."

Dr. Rodman felt himself flushing, and found he had difficulty speaking. "The Earth," he said, "is a large and very complex lifeboat. We still do not know what can or can't be done with a proper distribution of resources and it is notorious that to this very day we have not really made an effort to distribute them. In many places on Earth, food is wasted daily, and it is that knowledge that drives hungry men mad."

"I agree with you," said Mare coolly, "but we cannot have the world as we want it to be. We must deal with it as it is."

"Then deal with me as I am" You will want me to supply the necessary LP molecules-and I will not do so. I will not lift a finger in that direction."

"Then," said Mare, "you will be a greater mass murderer than you are accusing me of being. And I think you will change your mind when you have thought it through."

He was visited nearly daily, by one official or another, all of them well fed. Rodman was becoming very sensitive to the way in which all those who discussed the need for killing the-hungry were themselves well fed.

The National Secretary of Agriculture said to him, insinuatingly, on one of these occasions, "Would you not favor killing a herd of cattle infected with hoof -and-mouth disease or with anthrax in order to avoid the spread of infection to healthy herds?"

"Human beings are not cattle," said Rodman, "and famine is not contagious."

"But it is," said the Secretary. "That is precisely the point. If we don't winnow the overcrowded masses of humanity, their famine will spread to as yet unaffected areas. You must not refuse to help us."

"How can you make me? Torture?"

"We wouldn't harm a hair on your body. Your skill in this matter is too precious to us. Food stamps can be withdrawn, however."

"Starvation would harm me," surely."

"Not you. But if we are prepared to kill several billion people for the sake of the human race, then surely we are ready for the much less difficult task of withdrawing food stamps from your daughter, her husband, and her baby."

Rodman was silent, and the Secretary said, "We'll give you time to think. We don't want to take action against your family, but we will if we have to. Take a week to think about it. Next Thursday the entire committee will be on hand. You will then be committed to our project and there must be no further delay."

Security was redoubled and Rodman was openly and completely a prisoner. A week later, all fifteen members of the World Food Council, together with the National Secretary of Agriculture and a few members of the National Legislature, arrived at his laboratory. They sat about the long table in the conference room of the lavish research building that had been built out of public funds.

For hours they talked and planned, incorporating those answers which Rodman gave to specific questions. No one asked Rodman if he would cooperate; there seemed no thought that he could do anything else.

Finally Rodman said, "Your project cannot, in any case, work. Shortly after a shipment of grain arrives in some particular region of the world, people will die by the hundreds of millions. Do you suppose those who survive will not make the connection and that you will not risk the desperate retaliation of nuclear bombs?"

Affare, who sat directly opposite Rodman, across the short axis of the table, said, "We are aware of that possibility. Do you think we have spent years determining a course of action and have not considered the possible reaction of those regions chosen for winnowing?"

"Do you expect them to be thankful?" asked Rodman bitterly.

"They will not know they are being singled out. Not all shipments of grain will be LP-infected. No one place will be concentrated on. We will see to it that locally grown grain supplies are infected here and there. In addition, not everyone will die and only a few will die at once. Some who eat much of the grain will not die at all, and some who eat only a small amount will die quickly-depending on their membranes. It will seem like a plague, like the Black Death returned."

Rodman said, "Have you thought of the effect of the Black Death returned? Have you thought of the panic?"

"It will do them good," growled the Secretary from one end of the table. "It might teach them a lesson."

"We will announce the discovery of an antitoxin," said Affare, shrugging. "There will be wholesale inoculations in regions we know will not be affected. Dr. Rodman, the world is desperately ill, and must have a desperate remedy. Mankind is on the brink of a horrible death, so please do not quarrel with the only course that can save it."

"That's the point. Is it the only course or are you just taking an easy way out that will not ask any sacrifices of you-merely of billions of others?"

Rodman broke off as a food trolley was brought in. He muttered, "I have arranged for some refreshments. May we have a few moments of truce while we eat?"