Gen. Sam Merritt:
Before any of you accept, I should like to make it unmistakably clear that the dangers of this journey are above and beyond anything that the Space Corps or your own governments have any right to ask of you. I can give you confounded little reason for this attempt to reach Mars, and no assurance at all that it will even be successful. It's my personal conviction that no one but an idiot would volunteer, and I shall strongly suspect the sanity of anyone who does. All right, we've all got it straight. Who wants to go?
[After a long pause, Sgt. Imoto steps forward.]
Sgt. Imoto:
Is it permitted to disagree with the General, sir?
Gen. Sam Merritt:
Of course, Sergeant.
Sgt. Imoto:
In my humble opinion, sir, there is an excellent reason for this voyage.
Gen. Sam Merritt:
Well, suppose you tell us about it.
Sgt. Imoto:
Some years ago, my country chose to fight a terrible war. It was bad — I do not defend it — but there were reasons. Somehow, those reasons are never spoken of. To the Western world at that time, Japan was a fairybook nation — little people living in a strange land of rice-paper houses, people who had almost no furniture, who sat on the floor and ate with chopsticks. The quaint houses of rice paper, sir — they were made of paper because there was no other material available. And the winters in Japan are as cold as they are in Boston. And the chopsticks… there was no metal for forks and knives and spoons, but slivers of wood could suffice. So it was with the little people of Japan, little as I am now, because for countless generations we have not been able to produce the food to make us bigger. Japan's yesterday will be the world's tomorrow — too many people and too little land. That is why I say, sir, there is urgent need for us to reach Mars: to provide the resources the human race will need, if they are to survive. That is also why I am most grateful to be found acceptable, sir. I volunteer.
Gen. Sam Merritt:
Thank you, Sergeant Imoto. You're not a little man.
