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outstretched hand, and it was the gold that argued for him.
The Grand Master stretched out a slow hand at last, and the thin-faced
Pherl was roused to open speech. "Your Veneration, the gold is from a
poisoned source."
And Ponyets countered, "A rose can grow from the mud, your Veneration. In
your dealings with your neighbors, you buy material of all imaginable
variety, without inquiring as to where they get it, whether from an
orthodox machine blessed by your benign ancestors or from some
space-spawned outrage. Come, I don't offer the machine. I offer the gold."
"Your Veneration," said Pherl, "you are not responsible for the sins of
foreigners who work neither with your consent nor knowledge. But to accept
this strange pseudo-gold made sinfully from iron in your presence and with
your consent is an affront to the living spirits of our holy ancestors."
"Yet gold is gold," said the Grand Master, doubtfully, "and is but an
exchange for the heathen person of a convicted felon. Pherl, you are too
critical." But he withdrew his hand.
Ponyets said, "You are wisdom, itself, your Veneration. Consider  to give up
a heathen is to lose nothing for your ancestors, whereas with the gold you
get in exchange you can ornament the shrines of their holy spirits. And
surely, were gold evil in itself, if such, a thing could be, the evil would
depart of necessity once the metal were put to such pious use."
"Now by the bones of my grandfather," said the Grand Master with surprising
vehemence. His lips separated in a shrill laugh, "Pherl, what do you say of
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this young man? The statement is valid. It is as valid as the words of my
ancestors."
Pherl said gloomily, "So it would seem. Grant that the validity does not
turn out to be a device of the Malignant Spirit."
"I'll make it even better," said Ponyets, suddenly. "Hold the gold in
hostage. Place it on the altars of your ancestors as an offering and hold me
for thirty days. If at the end of that time, there is no evidence of
displeasure  if no disasters occur  surely, it would be proof that the
offering was accepted. What more can be offered?"
And when the Grand Master rose to his feet to search out disapproval, not a
man in the council failed to signal his agreement. Even Pherl chewed the
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file:///F|/rah/Isaac%20Asimov/Foundation.txt ragged end of his mustache and
nodded curtly.
Ponyets smiled and meditated on the uses of a religious education.
5.
Another week rubbed away before the meeting with Pherl was arranged.
Ponyets felt the tension, but he was used to the feeling of physical
helplessness now. He had left city limits under guard. He was in Pherl's
suburban villa under guard. There was nothing to do but accept it without
even looking over his shoulder.
Pherl was taller and younger outside the circle of Elders. In nonformal
costume, he seemed no Elder at all.
He said abruptly, "You're a peculiar man." His close-set eyes seemed to
quiver. "You've done nothing this last week, and particularly these last
two hours, but imply that I need gold. It seems useless labor, for who does
not? Why not advance one step?"
"It is not simply gold," said Ponyets, discreetly. "Not simply gold. Not
merely a coin or two. It is rather all that lies behind gold."
"Now what can lie behind gold?" prodded Pherl, with a down-curved smile.
"Certainly this is not the preliminary of another clumsy demonstration."
"Clumsy?" Ponyets frowned slightly.
"Oh, definitely." Pherl folded his hands and nudged them gently with his
chin. "I don't criticize you. The clumsiness was on purpose, I am sure. I
might have warned his Veneration of that, had I been certain of the motive.
Now had I been you, I would have produced the gold upon my ship, and
offered it alone. The show you offered us and the antagonism you aroused
would have been dispensed with."
"True," Ponyets admitted, "but since I was myself, I accepted the
antagonism for the sake of attracting your attention."
"Is that it? Simply that?" Pherl made no effort to hide his contemptuous
amusement. "And I imagine you suggested the thirty-day purification period
that you might assure yourself time to turn the attraction into something a
bit more substantial. But what if the gold turns out to be impure?"
Ponyets allowed himself a dark humor in return, "When the judgement of that
impurity depends upon those who are most interested in finding it pure?"
Pherl lifted his eyes and stared narrowly at the trader. He seemed at once
surprised and satisfied.
"A sensible point. Now tell me why you wished to attract me."
"This I will do. In the short time I have been here, I have observed useful
facts that concern you and interest me. For instance, you are young-very
young for a member of the council, and even of a relatively young family."
"You criticize my family?"
"Not at all. Your ancestors are great and holy; all will admit that. But
there are those that say you are not a member of one of the Five Tribes."
Pherl leaned back, "With all respect to those involved," and he did not
hide his venom, "the Five Tribes have impoverished loins and thin blood.
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Not fifty members of the Tribes are alive."
"Yet there are those who say the nation would not be willing to see any man
outside the Tribes as Grand Master. And so young and newly-advanced a
favorite of the Grand Master is bound to make powerful enemies among the
great ones of the State  it is said. His Veneration is aging and his
protection will not last past his death, when it is an enemy of yours who
will undoubtedly be the one to interpret the words of his Spirit."
Pherl scowled, "For a foreigner you hear much. Such ears are made for
cropping."
"That may be decided later."
"Let me anticipate." Pherl stirred impatiently in his seat. "You're going to
offer me wealth and power in terms of those evil little machines you carry
in your ship. Well?"
"Suppose it so. What would be your objection? Simply your standard of good
and evil?"
Pherl shook his head. "Not at all. Look, my Outlander, your opinion of us in
your heathen agnosticism is what it is  but I am not the entire slave of
our mythology, though I may appear so. I am an educated man, sir, and, I
hope, an enlightened one. The full depth of our religious customs, in the
ritualistic rather than the ethical sense, is for the masses."
"Your objection, then?" pressed Ponyets, gently.
"Just that. The masses. I might be willing to deal with you, but your [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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