"There is a nidus just back of a fleshy process in its throat,
corresponding to your own tonsils, which produces a crystal much as your
Terran oyster secretes a pearl. The irritation distracts the Scoops from
their meditations--they are a philosophical species, though not
mechanically progressive--and prompts them to barter their strength for
a time to be rid of it."
* * * * *
Jennifer reappeared with a walnut-sized crystal in her hand and vaulted
across the rail.
"There goes another Scoop," she said resignedly. "The _Queen_ will have
to tack with the wind for a while until another one shows up."
"So that's why your sails bellied backward when you came in to harbor,"
said Jeff. "The thing was _towing_ you."
A thin, high streak of vapor-trail needling down toward them from the
sunrise rainbow turned the channel of his thought.
"That will be Satterfield and his task force," Jeff told the Chafis. "I
think you're going to find yourselves in an argument over that matter of
squeezing Terra out of the crystal trade."
They reassured him solemnly.
"Terra has no real need of the crystals. We can offer a tested genetics
program that will eliminate racial anxiety within a few generations, and
supply neural therapy equipment--on a trade basis, of course--that will
serve the crystals' purpose during the interim."
There should be a flaw somewhere, Jeff felt, but he failed to see one.
He gave up trying when he found Jennifer eying him with uncharacteristic
uncertainty.
"You'll be glad to get back to your patrol work," she said. It had an
oddly tentative sound.
Somehow the predictable monotony of consulate work had never seemed less
inviting. The prospect of ending his Calaxian tour and going back to a
half-barren and jittery Earth appealed to Jeff even less.
"No," he said. "I'd like to stay."
"There's nothing to do but fish and sail around looking for Scoops ready
to shed their crystals," Jennifer reminded him. "Still, Uncle Charlie
has talked about settling in the Township and standing for Council
election. Can you fish and sail, Jeff Aubray?"
The consulate rocket landed ashore, but Jeff ignored it.
"I can learn," he said.
--ROGER DEE
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Galaxy_ February 1958. Extensive
research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on
this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical
errors have been corrected without note.