"I know," he said gravely. He grinned. "I'm still young, yet, and so is she. There's time for me to start learning how to take the long view later." He turned away and extended a hand toward the control that would broadcast his father's message to all the continent of Antarctica. His hand hovered for a moment. Once, he knew, Antarctica had been covered with ice, a frozen, desolate land. Men had cleared the ice and built a garden continent. Now, the new Duke thought, it was the other nine-tenths of the world that lay under an icy pall. That could be altered, too. The Twelve Dukes could be swept away; the walls around the cities and around men's minds could be destroyed. And it was not necessary that the tragedy of 2062 be repeated. His finger brushed the stud and his father's words began to echo through the city and out over the entire continent. "_People of Antarctica, hear and believe this message. Today, in the 362nd year of my rule, I am giving up my throne._" As the abdication decree resounded through the halls of the Ducal palace, he turned and saw the robots rolling toward him, ready to give allegiance to their new lord. He drew a deep breath. Plenty of work lay ahead. The years of the freeze were at their end; the great thaw was just beginning.