"They lock women up there. From birth. When she's sold into marriage, the father and brothers carry the girl to the husband under guard. Let your daughter run on the street and she'll be stoned to death by your neighbors before they burn your house down over you. It's not people there, and it's not people here on Erlette. It's just the way people live."
"Well, that may be, Captain Slade," said Levine. He was showing a little more backbone than his previous norm. "But it's a problem that has to be solved, this culture. And the only way I see to solve it was as Mister Rooks says. Blow them all up."
"There's some might say the same about other things; like this ship, hey?" Slade gibed. He rang his knuckles off a console for emphasis. "Isn't true, though. Not about Erlette, anyhow."
Slade struck a stance in the middle of the deck with his left fist raised. He extended the index finger. "They don't need men, because they've got the Sperm Bank." He extended the middle finger with the fist. "There's enough traffic here to keep the gene pool fluid and it seems to scratch any itches for something beyond lips and prosthetics