A race of men so blind that they could not see what awaited them once they achieved ambition--who were too busy lifting those below to reach above and lift themselves. Lazily satisfied to advance with the maddeningly-slow process of evolutionary development. What did it matter if Terra received no help? A culture of missionary-minded altruists. Owners of the galaxy--and so mentally soft that any man could wrest it from them single-handed. Any man. And yet he, Wan Nes Stan, who had the drive, the power, and the capability was blocked. Blocked until he could spend five centuries in service to gain the experience necessary. Five hundred years in the second-place chair. Half a millennium of inactivity before he could begin to take that which he should have now! Frustrated by a machine. Frustrated by a galaxy full of fools! "Fools!" he said aloud. No one heard him. "You, there. Fool!" "I?" asked the Galactic in surprise. "You are a fool!" "A concept I have often considered, but if you wish to belabor the point, I'll be most glad to maintain a stout defense." "You are a fool!" "Resolved," said the Galactic, "that I am not. You, as affirm--" "Fool!" "But parroting is not presenting argum--" "Fool! You are a fool." "By what standard?" "By mine!" exploded Wan Nes Stan. "You are fools! All of you! You sit there idly, watching the years pass, with all the universe before you, and you do nothing!" "And you can show us the way?" asked the Galactic. "Might I ask your philosophy, friend?" "I'm no friend to fools. Show you the way? That I can. I am the only one among you that can show you the way--and you sit there and ignore me. That is why you are fools!" "Show me and I'll follow," answered the Galactic. "Convince me and I'm your man." "Bah! One logical, integrated mind in a veritable sea of moronic reason," shouted Wan Nes Stan. "Blocked by ignorance from that which should be mine. Forestalled from my rightful station by sheer numbers--as all great minds are restricted by the blind, mindless, unimaginative imbeciles about him. Blocked and barred from my rightful future--" Wan Nes Stan leaped forward and snatched the Galactic's hand. He reached forward and clutched the jeweled pin from the Galactic's lapel. He struck the Galactic across the face and started to run from the scene. Another glitter caught his eye and Wan Nes Stan leaped over to wrest a luminous, jeweled timepiece from around the throat of a woman. "Give--" he screamed. And he clutched at a handbag and bore it away in his mad flight. "--or I take!" An ornate brooch came free in his hands with a long strip of shimmering, diaphanous silk clinging to the pin. Her companion raced after Wan Nes Stan to remonstrate for the insult, but the madman struck him across the face. He snatched the ring from the fallen man's finger.