"The mermaids?" I laughed as he fumbled in his pocket and brought out
the vial to make sure the stopper was on tight. "Sure. You needn't have
discounted _that_, my friend!"
* * * * *
I led him to the glowing, plexiglass tank in the center of the room. It
was a drum-like affair, about five feet high and eight in diameter;
complete with bright green sea weed and a glittering red cave-like
shelter of Mercurian coral.
But that wasn't what we were looking at, nor the dozens of goldfish
that swam merrily about the coral and bumped their snouts against
the plexiglass sides of the tank. It was the ten tiny mermaids that
crowded around the coral base, wiggling gracefully toward us one by one
to stare at us staring at them.
They were much like the fabled marine creatures I'd read about on
Earth, only smaller--like little dolls--and far more beautiful than
those imaginative ancients ever dreamed of.
From the waist up they were pocket-editions of perfectly-formed girls.
Their eyes were amber, with the sparkle of a coquette, their hair
luxuriantly long and golden. Silver nails tipped each tiny finger
and the silver was repeated in the gleaming scales which covered the
tapering lower half of the graceful bodies.
O'Graeme peered in delighted fascination at the strange sight.
"Fantastic!" he breathed.
"Stupendous!" I corrected. "Aren't they honeys?"
Just then the dinner party filed in from the adjoining room. I caught
Mr. Ames' eye, and he gave me the nod. So I introduced Slane O'Graeme.
Besides Mr. Ames and his wife and Margie, there were three guests,
Roger Wescott, Interplanetary Transport magnate, and his wife, and
Senator B. Peerpont Weems.
Fleming Ames turned the little vial over in his hands and examined it
frowningly. "You say, Bill, that the effect is a mild and pleasant
exhilaration?"
I smiled. "Well, Mr. Ames, it was more than mild, but then I got an
overdose, I suppose. There was no physical incoordination, though.
Just mental stimulus. I had a momentary inclination to--" I paused--it
didn't seem wise to tell my employer just what that momentary
inclination had been.
Mr. Ames carefully uncorked the vial. "Well," he said, "I guess, if
you've tried it and found it safe we'll give it a group test. Try it as
an after-dinner cordial. Anyone mind?"
He glanced about the huge air-cushioned divans and lounging chairs
where the guests were comfortably settled. Both Mr. Wescott and Senator
Weems nodded approvingly.
Mrs. Ames stiffened in her overstuffed chair and said a bit tensely,
"Fleming, I simply will not tolerate--" But Margie put a hand on her
mother's arm and said, "Now, Mother, don't be a spoilsport. I'm sure
Bill wouldn't let Dad try it if it wasn't all right."