“Very easily. You must understand that the aliens come from primitive cultures and are easily led. When we began infiltrating them to organize the invasion we were faced with indifference at first. To overcome this the leaders were treated and taught to hate humans. Then, through propaganda, they convinced the rest of the populations. It took a long time, but that is the way it was done.”

“Can the indoctrination process be reversed?”

“I would think so. But how can you convince my people to do a thing like this?”

“That is the big question I was corning to.” I stood and paced the room, marshaling my thoughts, stepping over the snoring bodies of the boys. “What is to be done must be done through the teachings of Moral Philosophy as you practice it here. I was wrong, angry, when I told you that this culture must be destroyed. It should not be. It is a vital one, an important one that contains elements that should benefit all of mankind. It was just misapplied when it left the surface of this planet. Is there anything inherent in Moral Philosophy, MP, that says you must be galaxy conquerors?”

“No. We learned to hate those who abandoned us on this world because we must always believe that they will never come back to save us. We must save ourselves. Survival is the beginning and the end. Anything that goes against that is wrong.”

“Then Kome and his talk of racial suicide is wrong!” For a Kekkonshiki, Hanasu looked almost startled “Of course! His preachings go against the law. All must be told.”

“They will be. But that is point one. Now think about the laws of MP again. You survive. You are superior to the rest of mankind. You hate the ones who abandoned you long ago. But the people alive today don’t even know about that abandonment, nor are they responsible for it. Therefore it is not necessary to hate them. Better than that, since the Kekkonshiki are superior to all other people, you are morally responsible to help them survive if they are threatened. How does that fit the MP rules?”

Hanasu was wide-eyed and rigid, his mind in a turmoil as he considered these unusual ideas. Nodding his head.

“It is just as you say. It is a novel thing to apply Moral Philosophy to a new situation. It has never been done before. There were no new situations. There are now. We have been wrong and I see now how we have been wrong. We simply reacted to other human beings. We were emotional. We violated the basic tenets of Moral Philosophy. When I explain all will understand. We will save the human race.” He turned to me and clasped my hand. “You have saved us from ourselves, my friend. We have broken the tenets by what we have done. Now we will make them right. I will go forth and speak.”

“Let’s set it up. We must be sure that Kome doesn’t shoot first and debate later. If we keep him quiet do you think that you can convince the troops?”

“There is no doubt. None will dare disagree with what I say for I will explain the law as it is written, as it is taught, as they have learned since they were small boys like the ones here.”

As though right on cue some of these same small boys burst the door open. There were a lot of them there, filling the doorway, all heavily armed. Led by one of their teachers who pointed his gun directly at me.

“Put down your weapon,” he ordered. “I will shoot and kill if you do not.”

Of course my gun was pointing at the pack; my reflexes are still in good shape. I had drawn and crouched automatically as the door had crunched. Now I rose slowly and let the gun drop to my side. I was seriously outgunned, by deadly weapons held by nervous boys.

“Don’t shoot, you’ve got me cold!” I called out.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hanasu asked, standing and walking towards the door. “Lower those weapons. This is an order.”

The boys obeyed instantly—they knew who the headmaster was—but the teacher wavered. “Kome has said…”

“Kome is not here. Kome is wrong. I order you for the last time to put that weapon down.” The teacher hesitated for an instant too long and Hanasu turned to me. “Shoot him,” he ordered.

Of course I did, and he thudded to the floor. With a sleep needle of course, though the boys did not have to know that. And I doubted if Hanasu cared. He was not used to his orders being disobeyed. “Hand me that gun,” he ordered the nearest boy. “And call an assembly of the entire school at once.”

They handed over the guns and instantly left. I dragged in the teacher’s body and laid it next to his pupils. Hanasu closed the door, deep in thought.

“Here is what we will do,” he finally said. “I will explain the differences to everyone in terms of Moral Philosophy. They have been troubled with internal conflicts over the application and this problem will now be resolved. After they have understood we will march on the spaceport. Kome and his activists are there. I will explain again and they will join us. Then you will call your ship down and we will proceed to the second part of the program.”

“That all sounds very good. But what if they don’t agree with you?’

“They will have to. Because it is not me they are agreeing with but the text of Moral Philosophy as it is written. Once they understand it will not be a matter of choice or agreement but of obedience.”

He sounded very sure of himself so I crossed my fingers behind his back and hoped that he was right.

“Maybe I should come with you. In case of trouble?”

“You will wait here until you are summoned.”

Hanasu exited on that line and I could do nothing other than let him go. The row of unconscious figures depressed me, so I unlimbered my radio and contacted my ships; to put them into the picture. They would stand by, in orbit above the spaceport, and await further orders. I broke the connection when there was a knock on the door.

“Come with me,” a stern-faced little boy ordered. I obeyed. Hanasu was waiting by the open front door of the school while boys and teachers streamed by him on both sides.

“We go to the spaceport,” he said. “We will reach it at dawn.”

“No problems?”

“Of course not. I could tell that they were relieved to have this conflict over interpretation of the rulings of Moral Philosophy made clear to them. My people are strong, but they get their strength from obedience. Now they are stronger still.”

Hanasu drove the only car in the procession and I was glad to travel with him. The rest of the staff and the students slogged along on skis. Uncomplainingly, despite the fact they had all been sound asleep less than an hour before. There is a lot to be said for discipline. There is nothing to be said for the comfort of Kekkonshiki groundcars. Though this trip was a little smoother than the first one, since Hanasu drove slower so the skiers could keep up. Dawn was lighting up the first snowstorm of the morning as we reached the spaceport entrance. Two guards emerged from the shack and looked stolidly at the car and following skiers as though this happened every day.

“Tell Kome I am here to see him,” Hanasu ordered.

“None are permitted in. Kome has ordered. All enemy are to be killed. That is an enemy in your car. Kill him.”

Hanasu’s voice was cold as the grave, although it rang with authority.

“The Fourteenth Rule of Obedience states you will obey the orders of one of the Ten. I have given you an order. There is no rule that there are enemies to be killed. Stand aside.”

A trace of emotion almost touched the guard’s face, then was gone. He stepped back. “Proceed,” he said. “Kome will be informed.”

In line now, our juvenile and senile invading force swept across the spaceport towards the administration buildings. We passed antiaircraft implacements, but the men manning them only looked on and made no attempt to stop us. It was gray, chill dawn now, with sudden snow flurries blasting by. Our car stopped in front of the entrance to administration and Hanasu had just climbed, creaking, down when the door opened. I stayed in the car and tried to look invisible. Kome and a dozen followers emerged, all carrying guns.