"It's never enough! In time of war, Earth people give till it hurts--then give some more! They know that no sacrifice is too much, that nothing counts but the proper prosecution of the war." The clothing-store owner nodded vehemently. "If it's Earthly, it's good enough for me. So what can we do about this spy situation?" "That is for us to decide here and now," Thrang said. "According to the Prime Minister, our dictatorship cannot boast a single act of espionage or sabotage done to it since the beginning of the war. The Chief of Security is alarmed. It's his job to keep all spies under surveillance. Since there are none, his department has lost all morale, which, in turn, affects the other departments." "Do we really need spies?" "They serve a vital purpose," Thrang explained. "All the books agree on this. Spies keep a country alert, on its toes, eternally vigilant. Through sabotage, they cut down on arms production, which otherwise would grow absurdly large, since it has priority over everything else. They supply Security with subjects for Interrogation, Confession, Brainwashing and Re-indoctrination. This in turn supplies data for the enemy propaganda machine, which in turn supplies material for our counter-propaganda machine." * * * * * Draxil looked awed. "I didn't know it was so complicated." "That's the beauty of the Earth War," Thrang said. "Stupendous yet delicate complications, completely interrelated. Leave out one seemingly unimportant detail and the whole structure collapses." "Those Terrans!" Draxil said, shaking his head in admiration. "Now to work. Boys, I'm calling for volunteers. Who'll be a spy?" No one responded. "Really now!" said Thrang. "That's no attitude to take. Come on, some of you must be harboring treasonous thoughts. Don't be ashamed of it. Remember, it takes all kinds to make a war." Little Herg, a zipper salesman from Xcoth, cleared his throat. "I have a cousin who's Minister of War for the Allies." "An excellent motive for subversion!" Thrang cried. "I rather thought it was," the zipper salesman said, pleased. "Yes, I believe I can handle the job." "Splendid!" Thrang said. By then, the train had arrived at the station. The doors were unsealed, allowing the commuters to leave for their jobs. Thrang watched the zipper salesman depart, then hurried into the crowd. In a moment, he found a tall man wearing a slouch hat and dark glasses. On his lapel was a silver badge which read _Secret Police_. "See that man?" Thrang asked, pointing to the zipper salesman. "You bet," the Secret Policeman said. "He's a spy! A dirty spy! Quick, after him!" "He's being watched," said the Secret Policeman laconically. "I just wanted to make sure," Thrang said, and started to walk off. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned. The Secret Policeman had been joined by two tall men in slouch hats and dark glasses. They wore badges that said _Storm Troopers_.