"Laugh while you can," Manson said grimly. "I've learned something of you Watchers already. I'll know more by morning." "Force was unnecessary," Havlik said unexpectedly. "I would have given you information willingly, since our mission here is ended. The Kha Niish, who are our masters, have ordered us to leave Earth. Tonight." Manson stared, the alien's assurance fanning his anger. "You're lying--you Watchers have mingled with us for centuries, using our own ignorance to set us against each other. You've kept us in perpetual confusion, deafening us with our own bickering while you tightened your hold on us. Now you're fomenting a Fourth War that may wipe us out completely, to save yourselves the trouble of liquidating us directly. You'd never go now, with success almost in your hands." "Perhaps you mistake our intention," Havlik said. "How do you know you're right?" "Because men of themselves would not do the brutal, idiotic things that fill the telecasts every day," Manson said. "We are a gregarious people, craving affection--why should we lie and steal and murder each other by the millions? Man is a rational animal, yet he does not behave in a rational manner. By simple induction, the basic cause of his social idiocy stems from outside himself. Someone, or Something, is setting us against each other. I suspected as much ten years ago, and tonight I have proved it." Havlik shrugged. "You've wasted your time. We leave Earth tonight." Manson laughed shortly. "_You're_ not going anywhere, my friend. I need you for information." "What else would you know? Our reason for quitting Earth?" "You're not leaving at all," Manson said, nettled. "You may have planned a routine jump to your base on Pluto, but you're not giving up a juicy plum like Earth. Not after all these years!" * * * * * He peered through the gyro's side glass searching for the white peak of Green Mountain to check his position. The skyglow of Denver shimmered in the east, but the peak was lost in darkness. "You misunderstand our motive," the alien said. "But you're quite right about our base on Pluto. Induction again?" "On a different level, yes," Manson said. "Pluto is a solar anomaly--a small, heavy planet where there should be nothing but a larger and lighter world. Pluto was never born to Sol--it's an alien planet, brought in from Outside by you Watchers." A red light winked on the control panel, and the gyro swerved fractionally. A fiery streak of crimson rocket exhaust flared ahead and vanished, explaining the deviation. "Seattle-Miami express," Manson muttered. Then the unnatural angle of the exhaust-trail registered, troubling him. "But it shouldn't cross my course--and it should be going up, not _down_!"