, than spend the rest of my life on my knees under a
Soviet Complex government. Wouldn't you?" His eyes went from one of
them to the other, defiantly.

Homer said slowly. "No, even though that was the only alternative,
which is unlikely. Not if it meant finishing off the whole human race
at the same time." He shook his head. "If it were only me, it might be
different. But if it was a matter of nuclear war the whole race might
well end. Given such circumstances, I'd be proud to remain on my
knees the rest of my life. You see, Ostrander, you make the mistake of
thinking the Soviet socio-economic system is a permanent thing. It
isn't. It's changing daily, even as our own socio-economic system is.
Even if the Soviet Complex were to dominate the whole world, it would
be but a temporary phase in man's history. Their regime, in its time,
right or wrong, will go under in man's march to whatever his destiny
might be. Some day it will be only a memory, and so will the
socio-economic systems of the West. No institutions are less permanent
than politico-economic ones."

"I don't agree with you," Ostrander snapped.

"Obviously," Homer shrugged. "However, this is another problem. El
Hassan deals with North Africa. The other problems you bring up we
admit, but at this stage are not dealing with them. Our dream is in
Africa. Perhaps the Africans will be forced to taking other stands, to
dreaming new dreams, twenty or thirty years from now. When that time
comes, I assume the new problems will be faced. By that time there
will probably be no need for El Hassan."

Ostrander looked at him and bit his lip in thought.

It came to him now that he had never won in his contests with Homer
Crawford, and that he would probably never win. No matter how strong
his convictions, in the presence of the other man, something went out
of him. There was strength in Crawford that must be experienced to be
understood. When he talked, he held you, and your own opinions became
nothing--stupidities on your lips. He had a dream, and in conversation
with him, all other things dropped away and nothing was of importance
but that dream. A dream? Possibly _disease_ was the better word. And
so highly contagious.

[Illustration]

While they talked, an aide had entered and handed a report to
Bey-ag-Akhamouk. He read it and closed his eyes in weariness.

"What's up, Bey," Homer asked.

"I don't know. Colonel Ibrahim has stepped up his attacks in all
directio