"You, Great Land of Barth, are our beloved home and fatherland for many, many generations to come. You are the mighty base from which we can spread over this enormous planet." "That's you. What I mean is, what about _me_?" "Oh? But there is no conflict. Your interests are our interests." That was how they looked at it. Sincerely. As they said, they weren't ruthless conquerors. They only wanted to get along. And all they wanted for me were such fine things as good health, long life, contentment. Contentment, sure. Continued irritation--a sour disposition resulting in excess flow of bile--did not provide just the sort of environment in which they cared to bring up the kiddies. Smoking? No. It wasn't healthy. Alcohol? Well, they were willing to declare a national holiday now and then. Within reason. Which, as I already knew, meant two to four shots once or twice a week. Sex? Themselves, they didn't have any. "But," they told me with an attitude of broad tolerance, "we want to be fair. We will not interfere with you in this matter--other than to assist you in the use of sound judgment in the selection of a partner." _But_ I shouldn't feel that any of this was in any way real restrictive. It was merely practical common sense. For observing it I would get their valuable advice and assistance in all phases of my life. I would enjoy--or have, anyway--perfect health. My life, if that's what it was, would be extended by better than 100 years. "You are fortunate," they pointed out, a little smugly I thought, "that we, unlike your race, are conservationists in the truest sense. Far from despoiling our homeland and laying waste its resources and natural scenic wonders, we will improve it." I had to be careful because, as they explained it, even a small nick with a razor might wipe out an entire suburban family. "But fellows! I want to live my own life." "Come now. Please remember that you are not alone now." "Aw, fellows. Look, I'll get a dog, lots of dogs--fine purebreds, not mongrels like me. The finest. I'll pamper them. They'll live like kings.... Wouldn't you consider moving?" "Out of the question." "An elephant then? Think of the space, the room for the kids to play----" "Never." "Damn it! Take me to--no, I mean let me talk to your leader." That got me no place. It seemed I was already talking to their highest government councils. All of my suggestions were considered, debated, voted on--and rejected. They were democratic, they said. They counted my vote in favor; but that was just one vote. Rather a small minority. As I suppose I should have figured, my thoughts were coming through over a period that was, to them, equal to weeks. They recorded them, accelerated them, broadcast them all around, held elections and recorded replies to be played back to me at my own slow tempo by the time I had a new thought ready. No, they wouldn't take time to let me count the votes. And there is where you might say I lost my self control.