Chapter 3

Eskel  Gorov stirred  on his  couch and  opened one  eye as  Limmar Ponyetsentered  the heavily  reinforced  door. It  boomed shut  behind  him. Gorovsputtered and came to his feet.
"Ponyets! They sent you?""Pure  chance," said  Ponyets, bitterly,  "or the  work of my  own personalmalevolent demon.  Item one,  you get into  a mess on Askone.  Item two, mysales  route, as  known  to the  Board of  Trade,  carries me  within fiftyparsecs  of the  system at  just the  time of  item one. Item  three, we'veworked  together  before  and  the Board  knows  it.  Isn't  that a  sweet,inevitable set-up? The answer just pops out of a slot.""Be careful,"  said Gorov, tautly. "There'll  be someone listening. Are youwearing a Field Distorter?"Ponyets indicated  the ornamented bracelet that  hugged his wrist and Gorovrelaxed.
Ponyets looked about him. The cell was bare, but large. It was well-lit andit lacked offensive odors. He said, "Not bad. They're treating you with kidgloves."Gorov brushed  the remark aside, "Listen,  how did you get  down here? I'vebeen in strict solitary for almost two weeks.""Ever since  I came, huh? Well,  it seems the old  bird who's boss here hashis weak  points. He leans toward  pious speeches, so I  took a chance thatworked.  I'm  here  in  the capacity  of  your  spiritual adviser.  There'ssomething about a pious  man such as he. He will cheerfully cut your throatif  it suits  him, but  he will  hesitate to  endanger the welfare  of yourimmaterial  and  problematical  soul.   It's  just  a  piece  of  empiricalpsychology.   A   trader   has   to   know   a   little   of   everything."Gorov's smile was sardonic, "And you've been to theological school as well.
You're all  right, Ponyets.  I'm glad they  sent you. But  the Grand Masterdoesn't   love  my   soul   exclusively.  Has   he  mentioned   a  ransom?"The trader's  eyes narrowed,  "He hinted ? barely. And he  also threateneddeath by gas. I  played safe, and dodged; it might easily have been a trap.
So it's extortion, is it? What is it he wants?""Gold.""Gold!" Ponyets frowned. "The metal itself? What for?""It's their medium of exchange.""Is it? And where do I get gold from?""Wherever you can. Listen  to me; this is important. Nothing will happen tome as long  as the Grand Master has the scent of  gold in his nose. Promiseit  to him;  as much as  he asks for.  Then go  back to the  Foundation, ifnecessary, to  get it. When I'm free, we'll be  escorted out of the system,and then we part company."Ponyets stared  disapprovingly, "And then you'll  come back and try again.""It's my assignment to sell nucleics to Askone.""They'll get  you before  you've gone a  parsec in space. You  know that, Isuppose.""I  don't,"  said  Gorov.  "And  if  I  did, it  wouldn't  affect  things.""They'll kill you the second time."Gorov shrugged.
Ponyets  said quietly,  "If I'm  going to  negotiate with the  Grand Masteragain, I  want to  know the whole story.  So far, I've been  working it tooblind.  As  it was,  the  few  mild remarks  I  did make  almost threw  hisVeneration into fits.""It's  simple  enough," said  Gorov.  "The  only way  we  can increase  thesecurity  of   the  Foundation  here   in  the  Periphery  is   to  form  areligion-controlled commercial  empire. We're still too  weak to be able toforce political  control. It's  all we can  do to hold  the Four Kingdoms."Ponyets was  nodding. "This I  realize. And any system  that doesn't acceptnuclear  gadgets  can  never   be  placed  under  our  religious  control?
"And  can therefore become  a focal  point for independence  and hostility.
Yes.""All  right, then,"  said Ponyets,  "so much  for theory. Now  what exactlyprevents  the   sale.  Religion?   The  Grand  Master   implied  as  much.""It's a  form of  ancestor worship. Their  traditions tell of  an evil pastfrom which  they were saved by  the simple and virtuous  heroes of the pastgenerations. It  amounts to a  distortion of the anarchic  period a centuryago, when the imperial troops were driven out and an independent governmentwas  set  up.  Advanced  science and  nuclear  power  in particular  becameidentified  with  the  old  imperial  regime they  remember  with  horror.""That so? But they have nice little ships which spotted me very handily twoparsecs away. That smells of nucleics to me."Gorov  shrugged.  "Those  ships  are holdovers  of  the  Empire, no  doubt.
Probably with  nuclear drive. What they have, they  keep. The point is thatthey will not innovate  and their internal economy is entirely non-nuclear.
That is what we must change.""How were you going to do it?""By breaking the resistance at one point. To put it simply, if I could sella  penknife with  a force-field  blade to  a nobleman,  it would be  to hisinterest to force laws  that would allow him to use it. Put that baldly, itsounds silly, but it is sound, psychologically. To make strategic sales, atstrategic  points, would  be to  create a  pro-nucleics faction  at court.""And they send you  for that purpose, while I'm only here to ransom you andleave,  while  you  keep  on trying?  Isn't  that  sort of  tail-backward?""In what way?" said Gorov, guardedly.
"Listen,"  Ponyets  was suddenly  exasperated,  "you're a  diplomat, not  atrader, and  calling you a trader won't make you one.  This case is for onewho's made a business  of selling ?and I'm here with a full cargo stinkinginto  uselessness, and  a quota  that won't  ever be  met, it  looks like.""You  mean you're  going to  risk your  life on  something that  isn't yourbusiness?" Gorov smiled thinly.
Ponyets said,  "You mean  that this is  a matter of  patriotism and tradersaren't patriotic?""Notoriously not. Pioneers never are.""All  right.  I'll grant  that.  I  don't scoot  about  space  to save  theFoundation or anything like that. But I'm out to make money, and this is mychance. If  it helps the Foundation  at the same time,  all the better. AndI've risked my life on slimmer chances."Ponyets  rose,  and Gorov  rose  with  him, "What  are  you  going to  do?"The trader smiled,  "Gorov, I don't know ?not yet. But  if the crux of thematter is to make a sale, then I'm your man. I'm not a boaster as a generalthing, but there's one thing I'll always back up. I've never ended up belowquota yet."The  door to  the cell  opened almost  instantly when  he knocked,  and twoguards fell in on either side.