Finally he saw beyond doubt that it was the Gizls who were running the entire show--that Hector I, Bobby the Bold, and the pseudo-scientific Garet-Rubach Axis were merely strutters on the stage. It was the Gizls who were maneuvering Superior as if it were a giant vehicle. It was the Gizls who were exploding the missiles. And it was the alien Gizls who, unlike the would-be belligerents among the Earth-people, were scrupulously saving human lives. "Thanks," Don said to his rescuing Gizl as it set him and Alis down gently on the hard ground of the golf course. "Don't mention it," the Gizl said, then leaped off to save others. "He talked!" Alis said. Don watched the Gizl make a mid-air grab and haul back a man who had looked as if he might otherwise have gone over the edge. "He certainly did." "Then that must have been a masquerade, that other time--all that mumbo-jumbo with the Anagrams." "It must have been, unless they learn awfully fast." He and Alis clutched each other again as Superior tilted. It remained steady otherwise and they were able to see the ocean, whose surface was marked with splashes as a variety of loose objects fell into it. Don had a glimpse of Professor Garet's machine plummeting down in the midst of most of Superior's vehicular population. "There's a plane!" Alis cried. "It's going after something on the surface." "It's the Hustler," Don said. "It's after the submarine." The B-58's long pod detached itself, became a guided missile and hit the submarine square in the middle. There was a whooshing explosion, the B-58 banked and disappeared from sight under Superior, and the sub went down. * * * * * "Sergeant Cort," a voice said, and because Alis was lying with her head on Don's chest she heard it first. "Is that somebody talking to you, Don? Are you a sergeant?" "I'm afraid so," he said. "I'll have to explain later. Sergeant Cort here," he said to the Pentagon. "Things are getting out of hand, Sergeant," the voice of Captain Simmons said. "Captain, that's the understatement of the week." "Whatever it is, we can't allow the people of Superior to be endangered any longer." "No, sir. Is there another submarine?" "Not as far as we know. I'm talking about the state of anarchy in Superior itself, with each of three factions vying for power. Four, counting the kangaroos." "They're not kangaroos, sir. They're Gizls." "Whatever they are. You and I know they're creatures from some other world, and I've managed to persuade the Chief of Staff that this is the case. He's in seeing the Defense Secretary right now. But the State Department isn't buying it." "You mean they don't believe in the Gizls?" "They don't believe they're interplanetary. Their whole orientation at State is toward international trouble. Anything interplanetary sends them into a complete flap. We can't even get them to discuss the exploration of the moon, and that's practically around the corner."