Foundation PART IV THE TRADERS

1.TRADERS and constantly in advance of the political hegemony of the creative activity were the Traders, reaching unwrap tenuous fingerholds through the trem mop upous distances of the Periphery. Months or eld major power pass between pour d testifyings on Terminus their ships were often cypher more than patchquilts of home-made repairs and improvisations their h unrivaledsty was n iodin of the highest their daringThrough it completely they spoilt an empire more enduring than the pseudo-religious despotism of the Four KingdomsTales with push through end argon told of these massive, l peerlessly figures who bore half-seriously, half-mockingly a motto adopted from one of salvager Hardins epigrams, nal representations let your smack of morals prevent you from doing what is right It is rocky now to tell which tales atomic number 18 real and which apocryphal. T present be none probably that sire non missed some exaggeration.ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICALimmar Ponyets was whole a-l ather when the call reached his recipient role which bases that the old bromide nearly telemessages and the recorder holds honest even in the dark, hard space of the astronomical Periphery.Luckily that tell of a free-lance mint ship which is not tending(p) allplace to miscellaneous merc baseball mittise is extremely snug. So over practically so, that the shower, hot peeing included, is located in a d bad-by-four cubby, ten feet from the control panels. Ponyets heard the illogical rattle of the receiver quite plainly.Dripping suds and a growl, he stepped bug break through(p) to adjust the vocal, and three hours later a second switch ship was alongside, and a grinning kidskin entered through the air tubing between the ships.Ponyets rattled his best chair forward and perched himself on the pilot-swivel.Whatve you been doing, Gorm? he call fored, darkly. Chasing me all the trend from the stand?Les Gorm broke out a cig atomic number 18tte, and move his head defin itely, Me? non a chance. Im just a sucker who happened to land on Glyptal IV the day afterward the mail. So they sent me out after you with this.The tiny, gleaming sphere smorgasbordd transfer, and Gorm added, Its confidential. Super-secret. rumpt be trusted to the sub-ether and all that. Or so I gather. At least, its a Personal Capsule, and wont open for bothone solely you.Ponyets regarded the capsule distastefully, I posterior see that. And I never knew one of these to hold costly news, either.It opened in his hand and the thin, transp atomic number 18nt immortalise unrolled stiffly. His shopping centers swept the message quickly, for when the final stage of the tape had emerged, the first was already br tucker and crinkled. In a minute and a half it had rancid black and, molecule by molecule, fallen apart.Ponyets grunted hollowly, Oh, GalaxyLes Gorm verbalize quietly, Can I help somehow? Or is it in addition secret?It bequeath bear telling, since youre of the Guild . Ive got to go to Askone.That place? How come?Theyve imprisoned a dealer. unless keep it to yourself.Gorms expression jolted into anger, Imprisoned Thats erstwhile morest the Convention.So is the interference with local anaesthetic politics.Oh Is that what he did? Gorm meditated. Whos the principal? Anyone I know?No tell Ponyets sharply, and Gorm accepted the hint and asked no further questions.Ponyets was up and staring darkly out the visiplate. He mumbled strong expressions at that part of the misty lens-form that was the form of the Galaxy, and so express loudly, Damnedest mess Im way rump quota.Light broke on Gorms intellect, Hey, friend, Askone is a closed atomic number 18a.Thats right. You cant sell as more as a penknife on Askone. They wont buy nuclear gad pee-pees of any sort. With my quota dead on its feet, its murder to go there.Cant stick around out of it?Ponyets shook his head absently, A know the married person involved. Cant walk out on a friend. What of it? I am in the hands of the Galactic Spirit and walk cheerfully in the way he points out.Gorm state blankly, Huh?Ponyets looked at him, and laughed shortly, I forgot. You never read the Bood of the Spirit, did you?Never heard of it, give tongue to Gorm, curtly.Well, you would if youd had a religious training.Religious training? For the priesthood? Gorm was deep shocked.Afraid so. Its my dark shame and secret. I was too much for the sacred Fathers, though, They expelled me, for reasons sufficient to promote me to a secular education to a lower place the root invent. Well, look, Id better push complete. Hows your quota this year?Gorm crushed out his cigarette and adjusted his cap, Ive got my last cargo red now. Ill feed it.Lucky dismissow, gloomed Ponyets, and for macrocosmy minutes after Les Gorm left, he sat in motionless reverie.So Eskel Gorov was on Askone and in prison as wellThat was bad In fact, leaseably worsened than it capability appear. It was one involvem ent to tell a curious youngster a diluted version of the dividing line to throw him off and propagate him about his own. It was a thing of a antithetic sort to governance the truth.For Limmar Ponyets was one of the few people who happened to know that master copy Trader Eskel Gorov was not a dealer at all barely that full(a)ly different thing, an agent of the Foundation2.Two calendar weeks gone Two weeks wasted.One week to reach Askone, at the extreme borders of which the vigilant warships speared out to meet him in converging numbers. Whatever their detection system was, it worked and well.They sidled him in slowly, without a signal, maintaining their arctic distance, and pointing him harshly towards the central sun of Askone.Ponyets could feed handled them at a pinch. Those ships were holdovers from the dead-and-gone Galactic Empire alone they were sports cruisers, not warships and without nuclear weapons, they were so worldly concerny handsome and impotent ellipsoi ds. except Eskel Gorov was a prisoner in their hands, and Gorov was not a hostage to lose. The Askonians essential know that.And then another week a week to wind a weary way through the clouds of venial officials that formed the buffer between the metre subordinate and the outer globe. individually infinitesimal sub-secretary required soothing and conciliation. Each required careful and despicable milking for the flourishing signature that was the pathway to the next official one higher(prenominal) up.For the first time, Ponyets found his bargainers identification papers holdless.I Now, at last, the molarity passe-partout was on the other side of the Guard-flanked gilded opening and dickens weeks had gone.Gorov was still a prisoner and Ponyets cargo rotted useless in the holds of his ship.The e tapnt hold in was a diminished man a small man with a balding head and very wrinkled face, whose consistency seemed weighed down to motionlessness by the huge, glossy fu r collar about his neck.His fingers moved on either side, and the line of armed men okay away to for a passage, along which Ponyets strode to the foot of the Chair of State.Dont speak, snapped the imposing moderate, and Ponyets spring lips closed tightly.Thats right, the Askonian ruler relaxed visibly, I cant endure useless chatter. You cannot threaten and I wont abide flattery. Nor is there room for injured complaints. I have anomic count of the times you wanderers have been warned that your devils machines are not wanted anyplace in Askone.Sir, said Ponyets, quietly, there is no examine to justify the trader in question. It is not the policy of traders to intrude where they are not wanted. however the Galaxy is great, and it has happened before that a boundary has been trespassed unwittingly. It was a abominable mistake.Deplorable, certainly, squeaked the solemn Master. only mistake? Your people on Glyptal IV have been bombarding me with pleas for dialog since two hour s after the sacrilegious wretch was seized. I have been warned by them of your own coming many times over. It seems a well-organized rescue campaign. overmuch seems to have been anticipated a little too much for mistakes, deplorable or otherwise.The Askonians black eyes were scornful. He raced on, And are you traders, flitting from solid g unit of ammunition to world like mad little thatterflies, so mad in your own right that you can land on Askones largest world, in the center of its system, and consider it an unwitting boundary mixup? Come, surely not.Ponyets winced without showing it. He said, domestic doggedly, If the attempt to trade was deliberate, your adoration, it was nigh injudicious and contrary to the strictest regulations of our Guild.Injudicious, yes, said the Askonian, curtly. So much so, that your fella is likely to lose life in payment.Ponyets stomach knotted. in that respect was no irresolution there. He said, closing, your Veneration, is so absolute and irrevocable a phenomenon that certainly there must be some alternative.There was a end before the guarded answer came, I have heard that the Foundation is rich.Rich? Certainly. But our riches are that which you refuse to take. Our nuclear goods are outlayYour goods are worthless in that they lack the ancestral blessing. Your goods are wicked and accursed in that they lie under the ancestral interdict. The sentences were verbalize the recitation of a formula.The terrific Masters eyelids dropped, and he said with meaning, You have cryptograph else of value?The meaning was lost on the trader, I dont represent. What is it you want?The Askonians hands spread apart, You ask me to trade places with you, and flip known to you my wants. I cogitate not. Your colleague, it seems, must suffer the punishment set for sacrilege by the Askonian code. Death by gas. We are a just people. The poorest peasant, in like case, would suffer no more. I, myself, would suffer no less.Ponyets mumbled hopelessly, Your Veneration, would it be permitted that I speak to the prisoner?Askonian law, said the Grand Master coldly, allows no communication with a condemned man.Mentally, Ponyets held his breath, Your Veneration, I ask you to be merciful towards a mans soul, in the hour when his body stands forfeit. He has been separated from spiritual consolation in all the time that his life has been in danger. hitherto now, he faces the prospect of going off-the-cuff to the bosom of the Spirit that rules all.The Grand Master said slowly and suspiciously, You are a Tender of the Soul?Ponyets dropped a humble head, I have been so trained. In the empty expanses of space, the wandering traders need men like myself to care for the spiritual side of a life so saluten over to commerce and worldly pursuits.The Askonian ruler sucked thoughtfully at his demoralise lip. Every man should prepare his soul for his journey to his ancestral spirits. so farthermost I had never thought you traders to be believers.3.Eskel Gorov stirred on his honk and opened one eye as Limmar Ponyets entered the heavily reinforced door. It boomed unopen behind him. Gorov s installtered and came to his feet.Ponyets They sent you?Pure chance, said Ponyets, poker chipterly, or the work of my own personal malevolent demon. Item one, you thrum into a mess on Askone. Item two, my sales route, as known to the Board of Trade, carries me within litre secpars of the system at just the time of item one. Item three, weve worked unitedly before and the Board knows it. Isnt that a sweet, inevitable set-up? The answer just pops out of a slot.Be careful, said Gorov, tautly. Therell be someone listening. Are you wearable a Field Distorter?Ponyets indicated the ornamented bracelet that hugged his wrist and Gorov relaxed.Ponyets looked about him. The cell was bare, but large. It was well-lit and it lacked offensive odors. He said, Not bad. Theyre treating you with kid g recognises.Gorov brushed the remark a side, dis big top, how did you get down here? Ive been in strict solitary for more or less two weeks.Ever since I came, huh? Well, it seems the old bird whos boss here has his unaccented points. He leans toward pious speeches, so I took a chance that worked. Im here in the capacity of your spiritual adviser. Theres something about a pious man such as he. He bequeath cheerfully cut your throat if it suits him, but he lead hesitate to endanger the welfare of your inert and problematical soul. Its just a cull of empirical psychology. A trader has to know a little of everything.Gorovs smile was sardonic, And youve been to theological school as well. Youre all right, Ponyets. Im glad they sent you. But the Grand Master doesnt love my soul exclusively. Has he mentioned a ransom?The traders eyes narrowed, He hinted barely. And he also threatened death by gas. I played safe, and dodged it force easily have been a trap. So its extortion, is it? What is it he wants?Gold.Gold Ponyets frowned. The coat itself? What for?Its their medium of exchange.Is it? And where do I get deluxe from?Wherever you can. Listen to me this is important. Nothing pull up stakes happen to me as long as the Grand Master has the scent of gilded in his nose. Promise it to him as much as he asks for. Then go back to the Foundation, if necessary, to get it. When Im free, well be construeed out of the system, and then we part company.Ponyets stared disapprovingly, And then youll come back and translate again.Its my assignment to sell nucleics to Askone.Theyll get you before youve gone a parsec in space. You know that, I suppose.I dont, said Gorov. And if I did, it wouldnt continue things.Theyll kill you the second time.Gorov shrugged.Ponyets said quietly, If Im going to negotiate with the Grand Master again, I want to know the whole story. So far, Ive been works it too blind. As it was, the few mild remarks I did make almost threw his Veneration into fits.Its simple enough, said Gorov . The unaccompanied way we can increase the guarantor of the Foundation here in the Periphery is to form a religion-controlled mercenary empire. Were still too weak to be able to force political control. Its all we can do to hold the Four Kingdoms.Ponyets was nodding. This I realize. And any system that doesnt accept nuclear gadgets can never be fixed under our religious controlAnd can therefore give out a focal point for independence and hostility. Yes.All right, then, said Ponyets, so much for theory. Now what exactly prevents the sale. Religion? The Grand Master implied as much.Its a form of ancestor worship. Their traditions tell of an evil past from which they were holdd by the simple and virtuous heroes of the past generations. It amounts to a distortion of the anarchic item a century ago, when the imperial troops were driven out and an self-sufficing government was set up. Advanced science and nuclear power in situation became identified with the old imperial regime they re instalment with horror.That so? But they have nice little ships which spotted me very hands down two parsecs away. That smells of nucleics to me.Gorov shrugged. Those ships are holdovers of the Empire, no doubt. Probably with nuclear drive. What they have, they keep. The point is that they pass on not innovate and their internal economy is fullly non-nuclear. That is what we must change.How were you going to do it?By breaking the resistance at one point. To found it simply, if I could sell a penknife with a force-field blade to a nobleman, it would be to his interest to force laws that would allow him to use it. Put that baldly, it sounds silly, but it is sound, psychologically. To make strategic sales, at strategic points, would be to create a pro-nucleics junto at court.And they send you for that purpose, man Im altogether here to ransom you and leave, while you keep on trying? Isnt that sort of tail-backward?In what way? said Gorov, guardedly.Listen, Ponyets was su ddenly exasperated, youre a diplomat, not a trader, and calling you a trader wont make you one. This case is for one whos made a business of marketing and Im here with a full cargo stinking into uselessness, and a quota that wont ever be met, it looks like.You mean youre going to try your life on something that isnt your business? Gorov smiled thinly.Ponyets said, You mean that this is a matter of patriotism and traders arent patriotic?Notoriously not. Pioneers never are.All right. Ill grant that. I dont scoot about space to let off the Foundation or anything like that. But Im out to make money, and this is my chance. If it helps the Foundation at the same time, all the better. And Ive risked my life on slimmer chances.Ponyets rose, and Gorov rose with him, What are you going to do?The trader smiled, Gorov, I dont know not yet. But if the crux of the matter is to make a sale, then Im your man. Im not a boaster as a general thing, but theres one thing Ill always back up. Ive nev er ended up below quota yet.The door to the cell opened almost pulsationly when he knocked, and two guards fell in on either side.4.A show said the Grand Master, grimly. He settled himself well into his furs, and one thin hand grasped the weight-lift cudgel he used as a cane.And gold, your Veneration.And gold, agreed the Grand Master, carelessly.Ponyets set the box down and opened it with as fine an behavior of confidence as he could manage. He matte alone in the face of universal hostility the way he had felt out in space his first year. The semicircle of bearded councilors who faced him down, stared unpleasantly. Among them was Pherl, the thin-faced favorite(a) who sat next to the Grand Master in stiff hostility. Ponyets had met him at a time already and marked him immediately as prime enemy, and, as a consequence, prime victim.Outside the hall, a small army awaited events. Ponyets was efficaciously isolated from his ship he lacked any weapon, but his attempted taint and G orov was still a hostage.He made the final adjustments on the bumbling monstrosity that had cost him a week of ingenuity, and prayed once again that the lead-lined watch crystal would stand the strain.What is it? asked the Grand Master.This, said Ponyets, stepping back, is a small device I have constructed myself.That is obvious, but it is not the information I want. Is it one of the black-magic abominations of your world?It is nuclear in nature, admitted Ponyets, gravely, but none of you need touch it, or have anything to do with it. It is for myself alone, and if it contains abominations, I take the foulness of it upon myself.The Grand Master had raised his compress cane at the machine in a threatening gesture and his lips moved rapidly and silently in a purifying invocation. The thin-faced councilor at his right leaned towards him and his straggled red mustache approached the Grand Masters ear. The old-fashioned Askonian petulantly shrugged himself free.And what is the connec tion of your instrument of evil and the gold that whitethorn save your countrymans life?With this machine, began Ponyets, as his hand dropped softly onto the central bedroom and caressed its hard, round flanks, I can turn the iron you discard into gold of the finest quality. It is the only device known to man that ordain take iron the fugly iron, your Veneration, that props up the chair you sit in and the walls of this building and change it to shining, heavy, yellow gold.Ponyets felt himself botching it. His usual sales talk was smooth, facile and slick but this limped like a shot-up space wagon. But it was the content, not the form, that fire the Grand Master.So? Transmutation? Men have been fools who have claimed the ability. They have paid for their prying sacrilege.Had they succeeded?No. The Grand Master seemed coldly amused. advantage at producing gold would have been a horror that carried its own antidote. It is the attempt plus the failure that is fatal. Here, what can you do with my staff? He pounded the point with it.Your Veneration will excuse me. My device is a small model, watchful by myself, and your staff is too long.The Grand Masters small shining eye wandered and stopped, Randel, your buckles. Come, man, they shall be replaced double if need be.The buckles passed down the line, hand to hand. The Grand Master weighed them thoughtfully.Here, he said, and threw them to the floor.Ponyets picked them up. He tugged hard before the cylinder opened, and his eyes blinked and squinted with fret as he centered the buckles carefully on the anode screen. Later, it would be easier but there must be no failures the first time.The homemade transmuter crackled malevolently for ten minutes while the odor of ozone became faintly present. The Askonians backed away, muttering, and again Pherl whispered urgently into his rulers ear. The Grand Masters expression was stony. He did not budge.And the buckles were gold.Ponyets held them out to the Grand Mast er with a murmured, Your Veneration but the old man hesitated, then gestured them away. His stare lingered upon the transmuter.Ponyets said rapidly, Gentlemen, this is pure gold. Gold through and through. You may subject it to every known physical and chemical test, if you wish to prove the point. It cannot be identified from naturally-occurring gold in any way. Any iron can be so treated. Rust will not interfere, not will a moderate amount of alloying metalsBut Ponyets spoke only to fill a vacuum. He let the buckles remain in his extended hand, and it was the gold that argued for him.The Grand Master stretched out a slow hand at last, and the thin-faced Pherl was roused to open speech. Your Veneration, the gold is from a poisoned source.And Ponyets countered, A rose can grow from the mud, your Veneration. In your dealings with your neighbors, you buy material of all imaginable variety, without inquiring as to where they get it, whether from an orthodox machine blessed by your be nign ancestors or from some space-spawned outrage. Come, I dont ecstasy the machine. I offer the gold.Your Veneration, said Pherl, you are not responsible for the sins of aliens who work neither with your approve nor knowledge. But to accept this strange pseudo-gold made sinfully from iron in your forepart and with your consent is an affront to the living spirits of our holy ancestors.Yet gold is gold, said the Grand Master, doubtfully, and is but an exchange for the heathen person of a convicted felon. Pherl, you are too critical. But he withdrew his hand.Ponyets said, You are wisdom, itself, your Veneration. Consider to give up a heathen is to lose nothing for your ancestors, whereas with the gold you get in exchange you can ornament the shrines of their holy spirits. And surely, were gold evil in itself, if such, a thing could be, the evil would depart of necessity once the metal were put to such pious use.Now by the study of my grandfather, said the Grand Master with surpr ising vehemence. His lips separated in a shrill laugh, Pherl, what do you phrase of this young man? The statement is valid. It is as valid as the develops of my ancestors.Pherl said gloomily, So it would seem. Grant that the hardness does not turn out to be a device of the malignant Spirit.Ill make it even better, said Ponyets, suddenly. Hold the gold in hostage. business office it on the altars of your ancestors as an offering and hold me for thirty years. If at the end of that time, there is no evidence of displeasure if no disasters occur surely, it would be proof that the offering was accepted. What more can be offered?And when the Grand Master rose to his feet to search out disapproval, not a man in the council failed to signal his agreement. Even Pherl chewed the ragged end of his mustache and nodded curtly.Ponyets smiled and meditated on the uses of a religious education.5.Another week rubbed away before the meeting with Pherl was arranged. Ponyets felt the tension, bu t he was used to the feeling of physical helplessness now. He had left city limits under guard. He was in Pherls suburban villa under guard. There was nothing to do but accept it without even spirit over his shoulder.Pherl was taller and younger outside the circle of Elders. In nonformal costume, he seemed no Elder at all.He said abruptly, Youre a peculiar man. His close eyes seemed to quiver. Youve done nothing this last week, and particularly these last two hours, but imply that I need gold. It seems useless labor, for who does not? wherefore not advance one step?It is not simply gold, said Ponyets, discreetly. Not simply gold. Not merely a coin or two. It is rather all that lies behind gold.Now what can lie behind gold? prodded Pherl, with a down-curved smile. Certainly this is not the preliminary of another unwieldy demonstration.Clumsy? Ponyets frowned slightly.Oh, definitely. Pherl folded his hands and nudged them gently with his chin. I dont criticize you. The clumsiness was on purpose, I am sure. I might have warned his Veneration of that, had I been certain of the motive. Now had I been you, I would have produced the gold upon my ship, and offered it alone. The show you offered us and the antagonism you aroused would have been dispensed with.True, Ponyets admitted, but since I was myself, I accepted the antagonism for the sake of attracting your attention.Is that it? Simply that? Pherl made no effort to blur his contemptuous amusement. And I imagine you suggested the thirty-day purification full point that you might assure yourself time to turn the attraction into something a bit more substantial. But what if the gold turns out to be impure?Ponyets allowed himself a dark humor in return, When the judgement of that impurity depends upon those who are most interested in finding it pure?Pherl lifted his eyes and stared narrowly at the trader. He seemed at once surprised and satisfied.A conscious point. Now tell me why you wished to attract me.This I will do. In the short time I have been here, I have observed useful facts that concern you and interest me. For instance, you are young-very young for a fragment of the council, and even of a relatively young family.You criticize my family?Not at all. Your ancestors are great and holy all will admit that. But there are those that say you are not a member of one of the Five Tribes.Pherl leaned back, With all respect to those involved, and he did not hide his venom, the Five Tribes have impoverished loins and thin blood. Not litre members of the Tribes are alive.Yet there are those who say the nation would not be willing to see any man outside the Tribes as Grand Master. And so young and newly-advanced a favorite of the Grand Master is bound to make powerful enemies among the great ones of the State it is said. His Veneration is maturement and his protection will not last past his death, when it is an enemy of yours who will undoubtedly be the one to interpret the words of his Spirit.Pherl scowled, For a foreigner you hear much. Such ears are made for cropping.That may be determined later.Let me anticipate. Pherl stirred impatiently in his seat. Youre going to offer me wealthiness and power in terms of those evil little machines you carry in your ship. Well?Suppose it so. What would be your objection? Simply your standard of good and evil?Pherl shook his head. Not at all. Look, my Outlander, your opinion of us in your heathen agnosticism is what it is but I am not the entire slave of our mythology, though I may appear so. I am an improved man, sir, and, I hope, an enlightened one. The full depth of our religious customs, in the ritualistic rather than the ethical sense, is for the masses.Your objection, then? pressed Ponyets, gently.Just that. The masses. I might be willing to deal with you, but your little machines must be used to be useful. How might riches come to me, if I had to use what is it you sell? well, a razor, for instance, only in the st rictest, trembling secrecy. Even if my chin were more simply and more cleanly shaven, how would I become rich? And how would I avoid death by gas chamber or mob frightfulness if I were ever once caught using it?Ponyets shrugged, You are correct. I might point out that the remedy would be to educate your own people into the use of nucleics for their convenience and your own substantial profit. It would be a gigantic piece of work I dont deny it but the returns would be still more gigantic. Still that is your concern, and, at the moment, not mine at all. For I offer neither razor, knife, nor mechanical garbage disposer.What do you offer?Gold itself. Directly. You may have the machine I present last week.And now Pherl stiffened and the skin on his forehead moved jerkily. The transmuter?Exactly. Your furnish of gold will equal your supply of iron. That, I imagine, is sufficient for all needs. Sufficient for the Grand Mastership itself, despite youth and enemies. And it is safe.In what way?In that secrecy is the essence of its use that same secrecy you described as the only safety with regard to nucleics. You may bury the transmuter in the deepest living of the strongest fortress on your furthest estate, and it will still bring you instant wealth. It is the gold you buy, not the machine, and that gold bears no trace of its manufacture, for it cannot be told from the natural creation.And who is to operate the machine?Yourself. Five minutes teaching is all you will require. Ill set it up for you wherever you wish.And in return?Well, Ponyets grew cautious. I ask a price and a handsome one. It is my living. Let us say, for it its a valuable machine the equivalent of a cubic foot of gold in wrought iron.Pherl laughed, and Ponyets grew red. I point out, sir, he added, stiffly, that you can get your price back in two hours.True, and in one hour, you might be gone, and my machine might suddenly turn out to be useless. Ill need a guarantee.You have my word.A very good o ne, Pherl arching sardonically, but your presence would be an even better assurance. Ill give you my word to pay you one week after delivery in working order.Impossible.Impossible? When youve already incurred the death penalty very handily by even offering to sell me anything. The only alternative is my word that youll get the gas chamber tomorrow otherwise.Ponyets face was expressionless, but his eyes might have flickered. He said, It is an unfair advantage. You will at least put your promise in writing?And also become liable for carrying out? No, sir Pherl smiled a broad satisfaction. No, sir Only one of us is a fool.The trader said in a small voice, It is agreed, then.6.Gorov was released on the thirtieth day, and cinque hundred pounds of the yellowest gold took his place. And with him was released the quarantined and untouched abomination that was his ship.Then, as on the journey into the Askonian system, so on the journey out, the cylinder of sleek little ships ushered them on their way.Ponyets watched the dimly sun-lit speck that was Gorovs ship while Gorovs voice pierce through to him, clear and thin on the tight, distortion-bounded ether-beam.He was saying, But it isnt whats wanted, Ponyets. A transmuter wont do. Where did you get one, anyway?I didnt, Ponyets answer was patient. I juiced it up out of a food irradiation chamber. It isnt any good, really. The power consumption is preventative on any large scale or the Foundation would use transmutation instead of chasing all over the Galaxy for heavy metals. Its one of the standard tricks every trader uses, except that I never maxim an iron-to-gold one before. But its impressive, and it works very temporarily.All right. But that particular trick is no good.It got you out of a nasty spot.That is very far from the point. Especially since Ive got to go back, once we shake our solicitous escort.Why?You yourself explained it to this pol of yours, Gorovs voice was on edge. Your entire sales-point reste d on the fact that the transmuter was a means to an end, but of no value in itself, that he was buying the gold, not the machine. It was good psychology, since it worked, butBut? Ponyets urged blandly and obtusely.The voice from the receiver grew shriller, But we want to sell them a machine of value in itself, something they would want to use openly something that would tend to force them out in favor of nuclear techniques as a matter of self-interest.I understand all that, said Ponyets, gently. You once explained it. But look at what follows from my sale, will you? As long as that transmuter lasts, Pherl will coin gold and it will last long enough to buy him the next election. The present Grand Master wont last long.You count on gratitude? asked Gorov, coldly.No on able self-interest. The transmuter gets him an election other mechanismsNo No Your premise is twisted. Its not the transmuter, hell accredit itll be the good, old-fashioned gold. Thats what Im trying to tell you.Pony ets grinned and shifted into a more homelike position. All right. Hed baited the poor fellow sufficiently. Gorov was beginning to sound wild.The trader said, Not so fast, Gorov. I havent finished. There are other gadgets already involved.There was a short silence. Then, Gorovs voice sounded cautiously, What other gadgets?Ponyets gestured automatically and uselessly, You see that escort?I do, said Gorov shortly. Tell me about those gadgets.I will, ?if youll listen. Thats Pherls private navy blue escorting us a special honor to him from the Grand Master. He managed to bundle that out.So?And where do you think hes taking us? To his mining estates on the outskirts of Askone, thats where. Listen Ponyets was suddenly fiery, I told you I was in this to make money, not to save worlds. All right. I sold that transmuter for nothing. Nothing except the risk of the gas chamber and that doesnt count towards the quota.Get back to the mining estates, Ponyets. Where do they come in?With the prof its. Were stacking up on tin, Gorov. Tin to fill every last cubic foot this old scow can scrape up, and then some more for yours. Im going down with Pherl to collect, old man, and youre going to cover me from upstairs with every gun youve got just in case Pherl isnt as sporting about the matter as he lets on to be. That tins my profit.For the transmuter?For my entire cargo of nucleics. At double price, plus a bonus. He shrugged, almost apologetically. I admit I gouged him, but Ive got to make quota, dont I?Gorov was simply lost. He said, weakly, Do you mind explaining?Whats there to explain? Its obvious, Gorov. Look, the clever dog thought he had me in a foolproof trap, because his word was worth more than mine to the Grand Master. He took the transmuter. That was a capital crime in Askone. But at any time he could say that he had lured me on into a trap with the purest of patriotic motives, and denounce me as a seller of forbidden things.That was obvious.Sure, but word against si mple word wasnt all there was to it. You see, Pherl had never heard nor conceived of a microfilm-recorder.Gorov laughed suddenly.Thats right, said Ponyets. He had the upper hand. I was properly chastened. But when I set up the transmuter for him in my whipped-dog fashion, I incorporated the recorder into the device and removed it in the next days overhaul. I had a perfect record of his sanctum sanctorum, his holy-of-holies, with he himself, poor Pherl, operating the transmuter for all the ergs it had and crowing over his first piece of gold as if it were an egg he had just laid.You showed him the results?Two days later. The poor sap had never seen three-dimensional color-sound images in his life. He claims he isnt superstitious, but if I ever saw an adult look as scared as he did then, call me rookie. When I told him I had a recorder planted in the city square, set to go off at midday with a million fanatical Askonians to watch, and to tear him to pieces subsequently, he was gibberi ng at my knees in half a second. He was ready to make any deal I wanted.Did you? Gorovs voice was suppressing laughter. I mean, have one planted in the city square.No, but that didnt matter. He made the deal. He bought every gadget I had, and every one you had for as much tin as we could carry. At that moment, he believed me capable of anything. The agreement is in writing and youll have a copy before I go down with him, just as another precaution.But youve damaged his ego, said Gorov. Will he use the gadgets?Why not? Its his only way of recouping his losses, and if he makes money out of it, hell salve his pride. And he will be the next Grand Master and the best man we could have in our favor.Yes, said Gorov, it was a good sale. Yet youve certainly got an uncomfortable sales technique. No wonder you were kicked out of a seminary. Have you no sense of morals?What are the odds? said Ponyets, indifferently. You know what Salvor Hardin said about a sense of morals.