"Didn't he change that ending?" I asked. The tic in my left eye started up. I had never had this twitch until the first time I saw Starr. I think it was something about those eyes of his. Every time I looked at him.... "He changed it all right!" Starr hissed. "He turned the Kiriki into villains. When their benevolent plan to spread patterned contentment throughout the circle of outer planets was just taking hold he had the semi-civilized Green Ones rise up and destroy their power by smashing their means of telepathic communication." "How could he do that?" I clucked. "Supersonic wave interrupter of some kind." I hadn't meant that, and somehow I couldn't help grinning. Trust Ric to latch on to the Kiriki vulnerable point. The Kiriki, as Starr had outlined them, were highly communal. Like our ants, only very much more advanced. They depended on this intricate pattern of inter-communication, mind with mind, for their very existence, since each Kiriki was by birth fitted to perform only one basic function in their communal society. Their ingenious "Army of Patterned Contentment" was helpless, when reduced by the adaptable Green Ones to individuals. "Will you please stop laughing," Starr rasped. "This hack writer of yours has outraged the history of an ancient, noble race!" "I didn't get a chance to read his revision," I defended myself. Starr had grabbed it off my desk as he went through. "I told Planter the Kiriki were good guys, not bad guys." "Good guys, bad guys!" Starr cried. "How naive can we be. Let us hope that our readership is on a different intelligence level, otherwise our great plan will fail miserably." * * * * * It was the way he said it, and I don't think he meant to. He was mad and the fact that my dialog had lapsed to comic book levels gave him the idea, perhaps, that I was too dumb to worry about. There had been other hidden meanings behind other things he'd said or done. My subconscious mind was working on it. "What plan is that?" I ventured mildly. "Never mind! Get busy on this--this _libel_." My left eye twitched. "Okay. I'll change it myself. I know Planter's style. By the way, when am I getting that secretary you promised me? My desk's flooded. I need a girl bad." "Ah, yes." It was supposed to be a smile, I guess. "Very soon. Meanwhile, kindly fill out this form." I took it without comment and went back to my office. This made altogether the fifth form Starr had dreamed up for me to fill out. Must be some weird complex he had, wanting to know what color socks I prefer and if my mother kept goats. Anyhow, I grinned, as I grabbed up the phone and dialed Ric Planter's number, it gave Starr ideas for my Christmas presents for the next twenty years. "Yeah," Ric's sleepy voice yawned. "It's me. What a head." I passed the beef on to him, good. "Shut up, Max," he yawned. "I was just having a little fun." "Fun-schmun. It's _my_ job!"