"Your super-intellect will, of course, cause subconscious repair of your body. I'd say another six or seven hundred years. You understand, of course, that not being born one of us has cut your life expectancy. That is too bad. But--" and the overseer dismissed the subject with a wave and a shrug. "I've been a business executive most of my life." "You may have trouble doing anything of that nature here," said Len Dor Vale with a sad shake of his head. "We are not a competitive race, we Galactic Ones. I might suggest that you try the main line here; overseeing the myriad of uninformed planets comprises the major portion of our lives." "That seems not too productive." "No? We have all we need. Anything you want is supplied, you will find. Our philosophy is settled and stable; we are luckily the highest order of intelligence in this galaxy--and that fact we know. In other galaxies near by, we have found no race to compare with us. There are rising races in all of them, but our prime job is to bring about the completeness of this, the First Galaxy before we struggle with the rest. Our job, Wan Nes Stan, is to co-relate and to advise. Our compensation is the fulfillment of our every desire. We--must carry the burden of all intelligence. We are repaid by those races just below us who are enlightened enough to know what we are doing and who appreciate it. "Terra is not yet one of these, but another Galactic year and they will be. Our plan is endless, Wan Nes Stan, a project that only we, the Galactics can appreciate in its entirety. You understand the magnitude of any plan of steering a galaxy of races into the full realization of their destiny--and then spreading out through the universe to the countless other galaxies to do likewise. "The end-product? Yes, you will, as one of us, be able to appreciate this, too. We are still rising, ourselves. We do not know what we may be in another million galactic years--but we do know it will be interesting, and our regret is that we cannot live to see it. Yet our children may, and for them we must plan." Wan Nes Stan nodded. Certain things penetrated deep during the speech; they rang home with response greater than others; a natural thing. But the one thing that flared in his mind was the statement: _We are not a competitive race._ Wan Nes Stan could and would go far in a culture like this. "I want to know; how much training is necessary to join the ranks of your governmental service?" "About a week will suffice. You will then be given an overseer's position. Perhaps you might enjoy being overseer in the sector that includes Sol." Wan Nes Stan shook his head. "A prophet is not without honor save in his own country," he said. He considered the idea of overseer's position and scorned it. He'd continue to use the mind machine. _They were still rising._