Astounding Science Fiction (UK Edition) — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

42 instance, you are young—very young for a member of the council, and even of a re- latively 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 fifty members of the Tribes are alive.” “Yet there are those who say the nation would not be willing to see any man out- side 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 aging 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 were made for cropping.” “That may be decided later.” “Let me anticipate.” Pherl stirred im- patiently in his seat. “You’re going to offer me wealth and power in terms of those evil little machines you carry in your ship. Well?” “Suppose it so. What would be your ob- jection? 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 I may appear. I am an educated 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 Devers, gently. “Just that. The masses. J 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 strictest, trembling secrecy. Even if my chin were more simply and more cleanly shaven, how would I be- come rich? And how would I avoid death by gas chamber or mob frightfulness if I were ever once caught using it.” Devers shrugged, “You are correct. I might point out that the remedy would be ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION to educate your own people into the use of atomics for their convenience, and your substantial profit. It would be a gigantic piece of work; I don’t deny it; but the returns would be more gigantic. But 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 demonstrated last week.” And now Pherl stiffened and the skin on his forehead -moved jerkily. “The trans- muter?” “Exactly. Your supply 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 atomics. You may bury the transmuter in the deepest dungeon 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,” Devers grew cautious. “I ask a price, and a handsome one. It is my living. Let us say, for it is a valuable machine, the equivalent of a cubic foot of gold in iron ore.” Pherl laughed, and Devers 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. I'll need a guarantee.” “You have my word.” “A very good one,” Pherl bowed sar- donically, “but your presence would be an even better assurance. I'll give you my word to pay you one week after delivery in working order.” “Impossible.” “Impossible? When you’ve already in- curred the death penalty very handily by even offering to sell me anything. The only alternative is my word that you'll get the gas chamber tomorrow otherwise.” Devers’ face was expressionless, but his conmicbooao SS (©)