tesme to know where to go and dig, and I never
found any official, or even reliably unofficial, mention of anything
of the sort. Forty years is a long time to keep a secret, you know.
And I can't see why they didn't come back for it after the pressure to
get the troops home was off, or why they didn't build a dozen Merlins.
This isn't the only planet that has problems they can't solve for
themselves."

"What's Mother's attitude on Merlin?"

"She's against it. She thinks it isn't right to make machines that are
smarter than people."

"I'll agree. It's scientifically impossible."

"That's what I've been trying to tell her. Conn, I noticed that after
Kurt Fawzi started talking about how long it would take to get to the
Gamma System, you jumped right into it and began talking up a ship.
Did you think that if you got them started on that it would take their
minds off Merlin?"

"That gang up in Fawzi's office? Nifflheim, no! They'll go on hunting
Merlin till they die. But I was serious about the ship. An idea hit
me. You gave it to me; you and Klem Zareff."

"Why, I didn't say a word ..."

"Down on the shipping floor, before we went up. You were talking about
selling arms and ammunition at a profit of two hundred sols a ton, and
Klem was talking as though a bumper crop was worse than a Green Death
epidemic. If we had a hypership, look what we could do. How much do
you think a settler on Hoth or Malebolge or Irminsul would pay for a
good rifle and a thousand rounds? How much would he pay for his
life?--that's what it would come to. And do you know what a fifteen-cc
liqueur glass of Poictesme brandy sells for on Terra? One sol;
Federation money. I'll admit it costs like Nifflheim to run a
hypership, but look at the difference between what these tramp
freighter captains pay at Storisende and what they get."

"I've been looking at it for a long time. Maybe if we had a few ships
of our own, these planters would be breaking new ground instead of
cutting their plantings, and maybe we'd get some money on this planet
that was worth something. You have a good idea there, son. But maybe
there's an angle to it you haven't thought of."

Conn puffed slowly at the cigar. Why couldn't they grow tobacco like
this on Terra? Soil chemicals, he supposed; that wasn't his subject.

"You can't put this scheme over on its own merits. This gang wouldn't
lift a finger to build a hypership. They've completely lost hope in
everything but Me