Dr. Hitz became rather severe with Wehling, towered over him. "You don't believe in population control, Mr. Wehling?" he said.  
"I think it's perfectly keen," said Wehling tautly.
 
"Would you like to go back to the good old days, when the population of the Earth was twenty billion—about to become forty billion, then eighty billion, then one hundred and sixty billion? Do you know what a drupelet is, Mr. Wehling?" said Hitz.
 
"Nope," said Wehling sulkily.
 
"A drupelet, Mr. Wehling, is one of the little knobs, one of the little pulpy grains of a blackberry," said Dr. Hitz. "Without population control, human beings would now be packed on this surface of this old planet like drupelets on a blackberry! Think of it!"
 
Wehling continued to stare at the same spot on the wall.
 
"In the year 2000," said Dr. Hitz, "before scientists stepped in and laid down the law, there wasn't even enough drinking water to go around, and nothing to eat but sea-weed—and still people insisted on their right to reproduce like jackrabbits. And their right, if possible, to live forever."
 
"I want those kids," said Wehling quietly. "I want all three of them."
 
"Of course you do," said Dr. Hitz. "That's only human."
 
"I don't want my grandfather to die, either," said Wehling.
 
"Nobody's really happy about taking a close relative to the Catbox," said Dr. Hitz gently, sympathetically.
 
"I wish people wouldn't call it............