Astounding Science Fiction (UK Edition) — page 42: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

40 “And gold, your veneration.” “And gold,” agreed the Grand Master, carelessly. , Devers set the box down and opened it with as fine an appearance of confidence as he could manage. He felt alone in the face of universal hostility; the way he had felt out in space his first year. The semi- circle of bearded councilors who faced him down, stared unpleasantly. Among them was Pherl, the thin-faced favorite who sat next to the Grand Master in stiff hostility. Devers had met him once already and marked him immediately as prime enemy, and, as a consequence prime victim. Outside the hall, a small army awaited events. Devers was effectively isolated from his ship; he lacked any weapon, but his at- tempted bribe; and Gorov was still a hostage. He made the final adjustments on the clumsy monstrosity that had cost him a week of ingenuity, and prayed once again that the lead-lined quartz would stand the strain. “What is it?” asked the Grand Master. “This,” said Devers, stepping back, “is a small device I have constructed myself.” “That is obvious, but not the informa- tion I want. Is it one of the black-magic abominations of your world?”’ “It is atomic in nature,” admitted Devers, gravely, “but none of you need touch it, or have anything to do with it. It is for myself alone, and if it contains abomina- tions, I take the foulness of it upon my- self.” The Grand Master had raised his iron cane at the machine in a threatening gesture and his lips moved rapidly and silently in a purifying invocation. The thin-faced coun- cillor at his right leaned towards him and his straggled red mustache approached the Grand Master’s ear. The ancient Askonian petulantly shrugged himself free. “And what is the connection of your in- strument of evil and the gold that may save your countryman’s life?” “With this machine,” began Devers, as his hand dropped softly onto the central chamber and caressed its hard, round flanks, “IT can turn the iron you discard into gold of the finest quality. It is the only device known to man that will take iron—the ugly iron, your veneration, that props up the chair you sit in and the walls of this build- ing—and change it to shining, heavy, yellow gold.” Devers felt himself botching it. His usual ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION Sales talk was smooth, facile and plausible; but this limped like a shot-up space wagon. But it was the content, not the form, that interested the Grand Master. “So? Transmutaion? There 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. “Success at producing gold would have been a crime that carried its own anti- dote. It is the attempt plus the failure that is fatal. Here, what can you do with my staff.” He pounded the floor with it. “Your veneration will excuse me. My device is a small model, prepared by my- self, and your staff is too long.” : The Grand Master’s small shining eye wandered and stopped, “Randel, your buckles. Come, man, they shall be replaced doubly 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. Devers picked them up. He tugged hard before the cylinder opened, and his eyes blinked and squinted with effort 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 ttransmuter 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 ruler’s ear. The Grand Master’s expression was stony. He did not budge. And the buckles were gold. Devers held them out to the Grand Master with a murmured, “Your venera- tion!’’ but the old man hesitated, then ges- tured them away. His stare lingered upon the transmuter. Devers said rapidly, ““Gentlemen, this is gold. Gold through and through. You mav 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, nor will a moderate amount of alloying metals—” But Devers spoke only to fill a vacuum. He let the buckles remain in his outstretched 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 comiclooks (©)