Cliff Jackson cleared his throat. "It seems as though El Hassan has just acquired a Department of Health." "El Hassan?" Smythe stuttered. "What, what?" Isobel said softly, "Dr. Smythe, surely you have heard of El Hassan." "Heard of him? I've heard of nothing else for the past month! Confounded ignorant barbarian. What this part of the world needs is _less_ intertribal, interracial, international fighting, not more. The man's a raving lunatic and--" Isobel said gently, "Doctor ... may I introduce you to El Hassan?" "What ... what--?" For the briefest of moments, there was an element of timorness in the sputtering doctor's voice. Then suddenly he comprehended. He pointed at Homer Crawford accusingly. "You're El Hassan!" Homer nodded, seriously, "That's correct, Doctor." The doctor's eyes went around the four of them. "You've done what you were driving at there at that meeting in Timbuktu. You're trying to unite these people in spite of themselves and then drag them, willy-nilly, into the twentieth century." Homer still nodded. Smythe shook an indignant finger at him. "I told you then, Crawford, and I tell you now. These natives are not suited for such sudden change. Already they are subject to mass neurosis because they cannot adjust to a world that changes too quickly." "I wonder if that doesn't apply to the rest of us as well," Cliff said unhappily. "But the changes go on, if we like them or not. Can you think of any way to turn them off?" The doctor snorted. Homer Crawford said, "Dr. Smythe, the die is already cast. The question now becomes, will you join us?" "Join you! Certainly not!" Crawford said evenly, "Then I might suggest that, first, you will not be allowed to operate in my territory." He considered for a moment, grinning inwardly, but on the surface his expression serene. He added, "And second, that you will probably have difficulties procuring an exit visa from my domains." "Exit visa! Are you jesting? See here, my good man, you realize I am a citizen of the United States of the Americas and--" "A country," Homer yawned, "with which I have not as yet opened diplomatic relations, and hence has little representation in North Africa." The doctor was bug-eying him. He began sputtering again. "This isn't funny. You're an American citizen yourself. And you, Miss Cunningham and--" Isobel said sadly, "As a matter of fact, the last we heard, the State Department representative told us our passports were invalid."