"Be thankful that I'm the worst tyrant you'll see," I answered sharply. "You could really learn about them if the Slaads knew you existed. They're more advanced than you. And, unlike us, they're warlike and predatory. They breed mammals for food. However, I'll put up a marker on your moon before I leave. They respect Thalassa and won't preempt our claims."
"You mean you're going to lay claim to Earth?"
"Only technically. We'll exercise it only if the Governing Council decides it will be to our advantage."
"What would you do if you took over?" Don asked curiously.
"Clean things up," I said. "Stop wars, stabilize the population, increase production and distribution, give you an effective central government and an understandable legal code, and eliminate the unfit. In three generations you'd be Class VI all over your planet."
"It sounds good. What's the catch."
"The catch," I said, "is that you wouldn't like it. You mammals are erratic, emotional and uncontrolled. You do not reason well, and you have no race discipline."
"What's that?"
"The capability of sacrificing units for the benefit of the whole. Eugenics control, culling the unfit."