“There may be some hitch in the idea, Estra.  If God meant for man to become—­to become obsolete, He would not have hidden the method all this time.  Suppose some flaw should develop—­later on?”

In the cube, Billie Jackson would not have stumbled over such a speech.  She would have ignored the fact that Estra was holding her hand all this time, and gazing deep into her eyes; she would have been filled with what she was saying and not with what she was seeing.  On the other side of the room, Van Emmon watched and glowered; he could not hear.

The Venusian lifted his head suddenly.  The voices from the telephone had subsided; only an occasional outburst came from the instrument.  Estra closed his eyes again for a second, and when he opened them again, his manner was astonishingly alert, and his speech swift and to the point.

“So far as we know, Billie, the method has no flaws.  It gives us the chance to throw off our lower selves; and if by so doing, we reduce the race to a single sex, only—­”

He stopped short, as though at a sound; and with a word of apology stepped from the room.  He opened another door, far down the corridor; and as he passed through, the wail of a new-born infant came faintly to the four.

“Wonder what’s up?” said Smith.  Van Emmon, who had gone to the window, whirled upon the engineer and motioned him to his side.

“Look at the people!”

Smith saw that the nearby houses were almost concealed by a throng which had gathered, silently and without confusion, during the past few minutes.  Their numbers were increasing swiftly, fresh arrivals packing the background.  People filled the streets; the space below Estra’s balcony was already crowded as closely as it could be.  Except for a low-voiced buzzing, there was no disturbance.

Billie came up.  She seemed to divine the temper of the mob.  She caught her breath sharply, and then said, very simply: 

“It reminds me of—­Bethlehem.”

But the words had scarcely left her mouth before an uproar sounded from one end of the street below.  A crowd of excited Venusians was pushing its way determinedly toward the house, their passage obstructed by shouting, protesting individuals.  Van Emmon’s breast began to heave; he fancied he saw blows struck.

“By George!” he exclaimed, next second.  “They’re fighting!”

It was true; a hand-to-hand battle was going on less than a block away.  The people below the window surged in the direction of the fight; all were shouting, now; the clamor was deafening.

“Live and let live!” came one of the shouts.  It was taken up by the group that was doing the attacking, and made into a cheer.  Then came other cries from them.  Smith made out something like “Down with sex monopoly!”

“Don’t you see?” shouted Smith, above the din.  “These people below are Estra’s friends; those newcomers are backing Savarona!  Get the idea?” he repeated.  “If Estra wins out, the old boy with the fountain of youth will never get another boy baby to experiment on!”