o repair our ship, but I hope we can make a trade treaty with your
government."

For a moment the six men consulted among themselves with a silent exchange
of glances. Then one of them smiled and said, "You must visit our villages
and explain the idea of trade to our people."

"Of course," Lord agreed. "If you could serve as interpreters--"

"Our people can learn your language as rapidly as we have, if we can borrow
your language machine for a time."

Lord frowned. "It's a rather complex device, and I'm not sure--you see, if
something went wrong, you might do a great deal of harm."

"We would use it just as you did; we saw everything you turned to make it
run." One of the golden-skinned primitives made a demonstration, turning
the console of dials with the ease and familiarity of a semantic expert.
Again Lord was impressed by their intelligence--and vaguely frightened.

"You could call this the first trade exchange between your world and ours,"
another savage added. "Give us the machine; we'll send you fresh food from
the village."

The argument was logical and eventually the natives had their way. Perhaps
it was Ann Howard's intervention that decided the point. She vehemently
disapproved; a gift of techniques should be withheld until she had
examined their cultural traditions. But Martin Lord was a trade agent, and
he had no intention of allowing his mission to be wrecked by the ephemeral
doubts of a teacher. Here at the onset was the time to make it clear that
he was in command. He gave the natives the machine.

As the six men trudged across the burned earth carrying the heavy apparatus
easily on their shoulders, Lord wondered if either he or Ann Howard had
much to do with the negotiations. He had an unpleasant feeling that, from
the very beginning, the natives had been in complete control of the
situation.

* * * * *

Less than an hour after the six men had departed, a band of natives emerged
from the forest bearing gifts of food--straw baskets heaped with fruit,
fresh meat wrapped in grass mats, hampers of bread, enormous pottery jars
filled with a sweet, cold, milky liquid. Something very close to the
miraculous had occurred. Every native had learned to use the Federation
language.

A kind of fiesta began in the clearing beside the _Ceres_. The natives
built fires to cook the food. The women, scantily dressed if they were
clothed at all, danced sensuously in the bright sun