 Why does Zarwell want to retire from overthrowing corrupt governments?
[p 135 ] By CHARLES V. DE VET monkey on his back Under the cloud of cast-off identities lay the shape of another man— was it himself? Illustrated by DILLON HE was walking endlessly down a long, glass-walled corridor. The truth lurked in some corner of his consciousness, but it was not reached by surface awareness. It took him only a few seconds to push the case into the compartment, lock it and slide the key along the floor beneath the locker. But the fact that they had been expecting him meant that others would very probably be waiting outside. The floor beneath Zarwell’s feet assumed abruptly the near transfluent consistency of a damp sponge. It rose in a foot-high wave and rolled gently toward the far wall. “When psychiatry was a less exact science,” his voice went on, seeming to come from a great distance, “a doctor had to spend weeks, sometimes months or years interviewing a patient. The floor continued its transmutation, and Zarwell sank deep into viscous depths. ZARWELL found himself standing on a vast plain. He should know all about the instrument, its purpose and workings, but he could not bring his thoughts into rational focus. Zarwell grunted acknowledgment and pushed himself to his feet, apparently unaware that his shirt clung damply to his body. Zarwell was careful not to rest his hand on the flesh searing surface of the stone. The evening meal hour was approaching when he reached the Flats, on the way to his apartment. Zarwell passed a group of smaller children playing a desultory game of lic-lic for pieces of candy and cigarettes. [p 139 ] The next morning when Zarwell awoke he lay for a moment, unmoving. Yet always, when his mind lost its sleep-induced [p 140 ] lethargy, the moment of near understanding slipped away. Zarwell moved among them, seldom taking part in the individual clashes, yet a moving force in the conflict . Zarwell was riding a shaggy pony outside a high wall surrounding the stricken metropolis. He moved in and joined a party of short, bearded men, directing them as they battered at the wall with a huge log mounted on a many-wheeled truck. Zarwell was not the leader of the invaders, only a lesser figure in the rebellion. Now Zarwell was fleeing, pursued by the same bearded men who had been his comrades before. He alighted from a space ship on still another world—another shift in time—and the atmosphere of conflict engulfed him.
 Often the new government becomes just as oppressive as the old one.
 Zarwell met the love of his life and wants to spend his days in peace.  Often the new government becomes just as oppressive as the old one.  Zarwell is getting too old to fight.  Zarwell has become ill and can no longer fight the good fight.