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give-away clause which had prevented its use on Utopia. It had been signed by
ultraphone-the possession of that tight-beam device alone "placed" the
Hruntans as to century-and the work the city was to do was left unspecified.
Amalfi hoped devoutly that the Hruntans would in turn give themselves away
when it came to being specific on that count.
The buzzer sounded once more, and Amalfi pushed the button that released the
door. The next instant he was not sure it had been a wise move. The Hruntan
delegation bore an unmistakable resemblance to a boarding party. First of all,
there were an even dozen soldiers, clad in tight-fitting red leather breeches,
gleaming breastplates, and scarlet-plumed casques; the breastplates, too, were
emblazoned with a huge scarlet sun. The men snapped to attention in two files
of six on each side of the door, bringing to "present arms" weapons which
might have been copies of Kammerman's original mesotron rifle.
Between the files, flanked by two lesser lights as gor-
geously and unfunctionally clad as macaws, came a giant carved out of'gold.
His clothing was interwoven with golden threads; his breastplate and helmet
were gilded; even his complexion was tanned to a deep golden tone; and he
sported a luxuriant golden-blond beard and flowing mustache. He was altogether
a most unlikely-looking figure.
He spoke two harsh-sounding words, and boot heels and weapons slammed against
the floor. Amalfi winced and stood up.
"We," the golden giant said, "are the Margraf Hazca, Vice Regent of the Duchy
of Gort under his Eternal Eminence, Arpad Hrunta. Emperor of Space."
"Oh," Amalfi said, blinking. "My name's Amalfi; I'm the mayor here. Do you sit
down?"
The Margraf said he sat down, and did. The soldiers remained stiffly "at
ease," and the two subsidiary nobles posed themselves behind the Margraf s
chair. Amalfi subsided behind his desk with a muffled sigh of relief. "I
presume you're here to discuss the contract." "We are. We are told that you
have been among the rabble of the second planet."
"An emergency landing only," Amalfi said. "No doubt," the Margraf said dryly.
"We do not concern ourselves with the doings of the Hamiltonians; we will add
them to our serfs in due time, after we have driven off these upstarts from
decadent Earth. In the meantime, we have use for you; any enemy of Earth must
be friends with us."
"That's logical," Amalfi said. "Just what can we do for you? We have quite a
variety of equipment here--"
"The matter of payment comes first," said the Margraf. He got up and began
pacing slowly up and down with enormous strides, his golden cloak streaming
out behind him. "We are not prepared to make any payment in germanium; we need
all we have for transistors. The contract speaks of equivalents. What counts
as equivalent?"
It was remarkable how the regal manner was snuffed out when it got down to
honest haggling. Amalfi said cautiously, "Well, you could allow us to mine for
germanium ourselves--"
"Do you think this planet's resources will last forever?
Give us the equivalent, not some roundabout scheme for being paid in the metal
itself!"
"Equipment, then," Amalfi said, "or skills, at a mutually agreed valuation.
For instance, what are you using for lubrication?"
The big count's eyes glittered. "Ah," he said softly. "You have the secret of
the friction-fields, then. That we have long sought, but the generators of the
rabble melt when we touch them. Does Earth know this process?"
"No."
"You got it from the Hamiltonians? Excellent." The two minor nobles were
beginning to grin wickedly. "We need babble no further of 'mutually agreed
valuations,' then." He gestured. Amalfi found himself looking down a dozen
rifle barrels.
"What's the idea?"
"You are within our defensive envelope," Hazca said with wolfish gusto. "And
you are not likely to survive long among the Earthmen, should you by some
miracle break free of us. You may call your technicians and tell them to
prepare a demonstration of the friction-field generator; also, prepare to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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