A simple, workable plan--until someone had asked, "Well and good. Excellent. And what if this high-minded Watcher realizes that we, asleep, are all in his power? What if he makes some agreement with a rescuer, or, worse still, decides to _become_ our rescuer when the path drifts back? What's to prevent him, eh? No," that long-forgotten, wary individual had said, "I think we'd best set some watchers to watch the Watcher." _Quis custodiet?_ What had it been like? He had no way of knowing, for he had no memory of his exact identity. That would come only with Awakening. He had only a knowledge of his heritage. For all he knew, it had been he who raised the fatal doubt--or, had been the first delegated Watcher. He shrugged. It made no difference. He was an Insurgent now. But he could imagine the voiceless babel among their millions--the argument, the cold suspicion, the pettiness. Perhaps he was passing scornful judgment on himself, he realized. What of it? He'd earned it. So, finally, two groups. One content to be trustful. And the other a fitful, restless clan, awakening sporadically, trusting to chance alone, which, by its laws, would insure that many of them were awake when the path drifted back. The Insurgents. So, as well, two basic kinds of chrysalids. The human kind, and the others. Wolves, bears, tigers. Bats, seals--every kind of living thing, except the human. The Insurgent kind. And so the struggle began. It was a natural outgrowth of the fundamental conflict. Which side had tried to over-power the first chrysalis? _Who first enslaved another man?_ he thought, and half-snarled. That, too, was unimportant now. For the seed had been planted. The thought was there. _Those who are awake can place those who sleep under obligation._ Control the chrysalids, and you control the sleepers within. But chrysalids endure for one generation, and then the sleepers pass on. What then? Simplicity. Group your chrysalids. Segregate them. Set up pens for them, mark them off, and do it so the walls and fences endure through long years. _This is my country. All men are brothers, but stay on your side of the line, brother._ _Sorry, brother--you've got a funny shape to your nose. You just go live in that nice, walled-off part of my city, huh, brother?_ _Be a good fellow, brother. Just move to the back of the bus, or I'll lynch you, brother._ And the chrysali die, the sleepers transfer--into another chrysalis in the same pen. _SPQR. Vive, Napoleon! Sieg Heil!_ * * * * * Some of the time it was the Watchers. Some of the time it was the Insurgents. And some of the time, of course, the chrysalids evolved their own leaders, and imitated. For, once the thing had begun, it could not be stopped. The organization was always more powerful than the scattered handsful. So, the only protection against organization was organization.