ant?" Kron asked curiously.

"No, it's a marine animal with a hard outer shell."

"Just like our Komal. We could try planting some of them in our oceans.
If they grow, we will be very obliged to you Terrans for giving us a new
taste sensation."

"Since my tribe is a seafaring one," Harl interjected, "they can be
raised under my supervision until we find the exact methods to propagate
them in our seas."

Hartmann must have been happy to get off the hook. It was a small
request, one that was easy to fulfill. It was a good thing that the
Niobians didn't realize what concessions they could wring from the BIT.
The Confederation had sunk billions into Niobe and was prepared to sink
many more if necessary. They would go to almost any lengths to keep the
natives happy. If that meant star-freighter loads of oysters, then it
would be star-freighter loads of oysters. The Confederation needed the
gerontin that grew on Niobe.

The commercial worlds needed the anti-aging drug more and more as the
exploration of space continued--not to mention the popular demand. Niobe
was an ideal herbarium for growing the swampland plant from which the
complex of alkaloids was extracted.

So Hartmann made a note of it, and the subject was dropped.

I didn't think anything more about it. Kron was happy, Harl was happy,
and Hartmann was feeling pleased with himself. There was no reason to
keep the oyster question alive.

But it didn't die there. By some sort of telepathy the Niobians
scattered along the long tables found out what had been getting talked
about at the upper end.

By this time I was on the ball again. When the orders went in I slipped
a note to the cooks to use tabasco or vanaka on the Niobian orders. It
was fortunate that there was an ample supply of oysters available,
because the banquet dissolved shortly thereafter into an outright oyster
feed. The Niobians dropped all pretense. They wanted oysters--with
vanaka, with tabasco or with Kala berries. The more effete Earth
preparations didn't rouse the slightest enthusiasm, but the bivalve
found its place in the hearts and stomachs of the natives. The oysters
ultimately ran out, but one thing was certain. There was a definite bond
of affection between our two utterly dissimilar species.

The era of good feeling persisted for several hours. There was no more
quiet undertone of polite suffering among our guests. They were enjoying
themselves. The Agreement was signed with hardly