"Alas," Rezar said. "Yes, alas. But he was so close. Magnology. Cosmolineation. It's jargon merely, as we learned in time. Osbert Garet is mad. Harmless, but mad." Don asked Rezar, "But if this built-in morality of yours is so strong, why didn't it prevent you from taking off with Superior?" Rezar replied, "There are factions among us now. An evolution of a sort, I suppose. Nothing is static. One faction"--he tapped his chest--"is completely bound by the injunction. But in the other, self-preservation places a limit on the injunction." The explanation seemed to be that the other faction, which grew in strength with every failure to find a world of their own, felt that on a planet such as Earth, with a history of men warring against men, required the Gizls to be no more moral than the human inhabitants themselves. "The Good Gizls versus the Bad Gizls?" Alis asked. Rezar seemed to smile. The Bad Gizls, led by one called Kaliz, had got the upper hand for a time and elevated Superior, intending to join it to the bits and pieces of other planets they had previously collected and stored in the asteroid belt. But Rezar's influence had persuaded them not to head directly into space--at least not until they had solved the problem of how to put Superior's inhabitants "ashore" first. Don, unaccustomed to his new role of interplanetary arbitrator, said tentatively: "I can't authorize you to take Superior, even if you do put us all ashore, but there must be a comparable piece of Earth we could let you have." "But Superior is not all," Rezar said. "To use one of your nautical expressions, Superior merely represents a shake-down cruise. Our ability to detach such a populated center had shown the feasibility of raising other typical communities--such as New York, Magnitogorsk and Heidelberg--each a different example of Earth culture." Don heard a gasp from the Pentagon--or it might have come from the White House. "You mean you've burrowed under each one of those 'communities'?" Don asked. Rezar shrugged. "Kaliz's faction," he said, as if to dissociate himself from the project of removing some of Earth's choicest property. "They aim at a history-museum of habitable worlds." "Interplanetary souvenirs," Alis said. "With quick-frozen inhabitants? Don, what are you going to do?" Don didn't even know what to say. His eyes met Hector's. "Don't look at me," Hector said. "I definitely abdicate." "Look," Don said to Rezar, "how far advanced are these plans? I mean, is there a deadline for this mass levitation?" "Twenty-four hours, your time," Rezar said. "Can't you stop them? Aren't you the boss?" The alien turned Don's question back on him. "Are _you_ the boss?" Don had started to shake his head when Foghorn Frank's voice boomed out. "Yes, by thunder, he _is_ the boss! Don, raise your right hand. I'm going to make you a brigadier general. No, blast it, a full general. Repeat after me...." * * * * *