ble off."

"Right away, sir."

"And ... Wygor--"

"Yes, sir?"

"It's apparent that we have a totally new species here. It will be
called a _wygorex_, of course, but it would be better if we waited
until we could make a full report to the Keepers. So don't let any of
this out--especially to the other Septs."

"Certainly not, sir; not a whistle. Anything else?"

"Just keep me posted, that's all. Scramble off."

After Wygor had obediently scrambled off, Dodeth relaxed all his knees
and sank to his belly in thought.

His job was not an easy one. He would like to have his office get full
credit for discovering a new species, just as Wygor had--understandably
enough--wanted to get his share of the credit. On the other hand, one had
to be careful that holding back information did not constitute any danger
to the Balance. Above all, the Balance must be preserved. Even the snith
had its place in the Ecological Balance of the World--although one didn't
like to think about sniths as being particularly useful.

After all, every animal, every planet had its place in the scheme;
each contributed its little bit to maintaining the Balance. Each had
its niche in the ecological architecture, as Dodeth liked to think of
it. The trouble was that the Balance was a shifting, swinging,
ever-changing thing. Living tissues carried the genes of heredity in
them, and living tissues are notoriously plastic under the influence
of the proper radiation or particle bombardment. And animals _would_
cross the poles.

The World had been excellently designed by the Universal Motivator for
the development and evolution of life. Again, the concept of the
Balance showed in His mighty works. Suppose, for instance, that the
World rotated more rapidly about its axis, thereby exposing the whole
surface periodically to the deadly radiation of the Blue Sun, instead
of having a rotation period that, combined with the eccentricity of
the World's orbit, gave it just enough libration to expose only
sixty-three per cent to the rays, leaving the remaining thirty-seven
per cent in twilight or darkness. Or suppose the orbit were so nearly
circular that there were no perceptible libration at all; one side
would burn eternally, and the other side would freeze, since there
would be no seasonal winds blowing first east, then west, bringing the
warmth of the Blue Sun from the other side.

Or, again, suppose there were no Moon and no Yellow Sun to give light
to t