e said. "Why do you want us to _act_ as
if we believe you, when you know we don't?"

"Because that's the way people do act," the Queen said calmly. "Very
few people really believe that their so-called superiors _are_
superior. Almost none of them do, in fact."

"Now wait a minute," Boyd began.

"No, no, it's quite true," the Queen said, "and, unpleasant as it may
be, we must learn to face the truth. That's the path of sanity." Lady
Barbara made a strangled noise but Her Majesty continued, unruffled.
"Nearly everybody suffers from the silly delusion that he's possibly
equal to, but very probably superior to, everybody else--my goodness,
where would we be if that were true?"

Malone felt that a comment was called for, and he made one. "Who
knows?" he said.

"All the things people do toward their superiors," the Queen said,
"are done for social reasons. For instance, Sir Kenneth: you don't
realize fully how you feel about Mr. Burris."

"He's a hell of a fine guy," Malone said. "I work for him. He's a good
Director of the FBI."

"Of course," the Queen said. "But you believe you could do the job
just as well, or perhaps a little better."

"I do not," Malone said angrily.

Her Majesty reserved a dignified silence.

After a while Malone said: "And what if I do?"

"Why, nothing," Her Majesty said. "You don't think Mr. Burris is any
smarter or better than you are--but you treat him as if you did. All I
am insisting on is the same treatment."

"But if we don't believe--" Boyd began.

"Bless you," Her Majesty said, "I can't help the way you _think_, but,
as Queen, I do have some control over the way you _act_."

Malone thought it over. "You have a point there," he said at last.

Barbara said: "But--"

"Yes, Sir Kenneth," the Queen said, "I do." She seemed to be ignoring
Lady Barbara. Perhaps, Malone thought, she was still angry over the
nap affair. "It's not that," the Queen said.

"Not what?" Boyd said, thoroughly confused.

"Not the naps," the Queen said.

"What naps?" Boyd said. Malone said: "I was thinking--"

"Good," Boyd said. "Keep it up. I'm driving. Everything's going to
hell around me, but I'm driving."

A red light appeared ahead. Boyd jammed on the brakes with somewhat
more than the necessary force, and Malone was thrown forward with a
grunt. Behind him there were two ladylike squeals.

Malone struggled upright. "Barbara?" he called. "Are you all right--"
Then he remembered the Queen.

"I