Finally George and I got notices saying that we were qualified and had been posted for the Mayflower, "subject to compliance with all requirements."

That night I didn't worry about ration points; I really set us out a feast.

There was a booklet of the requirements mentioned. "Satisfy all debts"—that didn't worry me; aside from a half credit I owed Slats Keifer I didn't have any. "Post an appearance bond"—George would take care of that "Conclude any action before any court of superior jurisdiction"—I had never been in court except the Court of Honor. There were a flock of other things, but George would handle them.

I found some fine print that worried me. "George," I said, "It says here that emigration is limited to families with children."

He looked up. "Well, aren't we such a family? If you don't mind being classified as a child."

"Oh. I suppose so. I thought it meant a married couple and kids."

"Don't give it a thought."

Privately I wondered if Dad knew what he was talking about.

We were busy with innoculations and blood typing and immunizations and I hardly got to school at all. When I wasn't being stuck or being bled, I was sick with the last thing they had done to me. Finally we had to have our whole medical history tattooed on us—identity number, Rh factor, blood type, coag time, diseases you had had, natural immunities and inoculations. The girls and the women usually had it done in invisible ink that showed up only under infra-red light, or else they put it on the soles of their feet.

They asked me where I wanted it, the soles of my feet? I said no, I don't want to be crippled up; I had too much to do. We compromised on putting it where I sit down and then I ate standing up for a couple of days. It seemed a good place, private anyhow. But I had to use a mirror to see it.