A young girl was before them. She bent low to the Commdor, who said, "This is one of the Commdora's girls. Will she do?"
"Perfectly!"
The Commdor watched carefully while Mallow snapped the chain about the girl's waist, and stepped back.
The Commdor snuffled, "Well. Is that all?"
"Will you draw the curtain, Commdor. Young lady, there's a little knob just near the snap. Will you move it upward, please? Go ahead, it won't hurt you."
The girl did so, drew a sharp breath, looked at her hands, and gasped, "Oh!"
From her waist as a source she was drowned in a pale, streaming luminescence of shifting color that drew itself over her head in a flashing coronet of liquid fire. It was as if someone had tom the aurora borealis out of the sky and molded it into a cloak.
The girl stepped to the mirror and stared, fascinated.
"Here, take this." Mallow handed her a necklace of dull pebbles. "Put it around your neck."
The girl did so, and each pebble, as it entered the luminescent field became an individual flame that leaped and sparkled in crimson and gold.
"What do you think of it?" Mallow asked her. The girl didn't answer but there was adoration in her eyes. The Commdor gestured and reluctantly, she pushed the knob down, and the glory died. She left with a memory.
"It's yours, Commdor," said Mallow, "for the Commdora. Consider it a small gift from the Foundation."
"Hm-m-m.' The Commdor turned the belt and necklace over in his hand as though calculating the weight. "How is it done?"
Mallow shrugged, "That's a question for our technical experts. But it will work for you without mark you, without priestly help."
"Well, it's only feminine frippery after all. What could you do with it? Where would the money come in?"
"You have balls, receptions, banquets that sort of thing?"
"Oh, yes."
"Do you realize what women will pay for that sort of jewelry? Ten thousand credits, at least."
The Commdor seemed struck in a heap, "Ah!"
"And since the power unit of this particular item will not last longer than six months, there will be the necessity of frequent replacements. Now we can sell as many of these as you want for the equivalent in wrought iron of one thousand credits. There's nine hundred percent profit for you."
The Commdor plucked at his beard and seemed engaged in awesome mental calculations, "Galaxy, how they would fight for them. I'll keep the supply small and let them bid. Of course, it wouldn't do to let them know that I personally"
Mallow said, "We can explain the workings of dummy corporations, if you would like. 朤hen, working further at random, take our complete line of household gadgets. We have collapsible stoves that will roast the toughest meats to the desired tenderness in two minutes. We've got knives that won't require sharpening. We've got the equivalent of a complete laundry that can be packed in a small closet and will work entirely automatically. Ditto dish-washers. Ditto-ditto floor-scrubbers, furniture polishers, dust-precipitators, lighting fixtures oh, anything you like. Think of your increased popularity, if you make them available to the public. Think of your increased quantity of, uh, worldly goods, if they're available as a government monopoly at nine hundred percent profit. It will be worth many times the money to them, and they needn't know what you pay for it. And, mind you, none of it will require priestly supervision. Everybody will be happy."
"Except you, it seems. What do you get out of it?"
"Just what every trader gets by Foundation law. My men and I will collect half of whatever profits we take in. Just you buy all I want to sell you, and we'll both make out quite well. Quite well."
The Commdor was enjoying his thoughts, "What did you say you wanted to be paid with? Iron?"
"That, and coal, and bauxite. Also tobacco, pepper, magnesium, hardwood. Nothing you haven't got enough of."
"It sounds well."
"I think so. Oh, and still another item at random, Commdor. I could retool your factories."
"Eh? How's that?"
"Well, take your steel foundries. I have handy little gadgets that could do tricks with steel that would cut production costs to one percent of previous marks. You could cut prices by half, and still split extremely fat profits with the manufacturers. I tell you, I could show you exactly what I mean, if you allowed me a demonstration. Do you have a steel foundry in this city? It wouldn't take long."
"It could be arranged, Trader Mallow. But tomorrow, tomorrow. Would you dine with us tonight?"
"My men" began Mallow.
"Let them all come," said the Commdor, expansively. "A symbolic friendly union of our nations. It will give us a chance for further friendly discussion. But one thing," his face lengthened and grew stem, "none of your religion. Don't think that all this is an entering wedge for the missionaries."
"Commdor," said Mallow, dryly, "I give you my word that religion would cut my profits."
"Then that will do for now. You'll be escorted back to your ship."
6.
The Commdora was much younger than her husband. Her face was pale and coldly formed and her black hair was drawn smoothly and tightly back.
Her voice was tart. "You are quite finished, my gracious and noble husband? Quite, quite finished? I suppose I may even enter the garden if I wish, now."
"There is no need for dramatics, Licia, my dear," said the Commdor, mildly. "The young man will attend at dinner tonight, and you can speak with him all you wish and even amuse yourself by listening to all I say. Room will have to be arranged for his men somewhere about the place. The stars grant that they be few in numbers."