Andy had always despised rank-pullers. He turned to Blahrog "I'll have
to send the dope back to the Home Office so they can put it through the
computer and send me the ad-intensity index."
Blahrog looked a polite enquiry.
"That will tell us how effective the ad campaign will have to be to
make a go of this. What's the fastest way to send a message to Earth?"
"Radiogram the satellite station," Blahrog answered. "They'll relay it
to the next ship within range, and the ship will relay it to the next
planet it nears with the radiogram facilities to send it to Earth."
"How long will it take to get an answer?" Andy asked.
"About twelve days."
* * * * *
They didn't stare at the sky while they waited for the answer.
Blahrog called the members of the Cobbler's Guild together, and
delivered a series of lectures on their importance to the future of
Felix II.
Foreseeing a return to political and economic power, the reserve
members dusted off their lasts and aprons and got back into practice.
For the first time in nearly thirty seasons, the applications for
apprenticeship were too numerous to handle. New life showed on their
faces.
The Master Cobblers (including the Everking and Blahrog) worked around
the clock, fabricating plastic lasts. Miss Featherpenny and Hrom dug
pictures and descriptions of the various types of Galactic feet that
habitually or occasionally wore shoes out of old periodicals, located
by members of the newly-organized ladies' auxiliary.
Felix II was humming, if not absolutely singing, with industry and
good humor. Some of it rubbed off on Andy. He relented toward Miss
Featherpenny to the extent of presenting her with a pair of Felician
shoes, fabricated by the Everking. They were of the sensible walking
variety, and not Miss Featherpenny's style. Nevertheless, she was
extremely pleased with the gift. Like all Felician shoes, they fit her
perfectly.
The Everking, backed by his Debators and ministers, issued public
thanks to one Andrew Stephens, restorer of hope, and propagator
of economic equality. The ladies' auxiliary gave a tea in Miss
Featherpenny's honor. They were both showered with gifts from a
grateful and admiring populace.
The reply to the message was signed by Crumbly himself. "Forlorn hope,"
it said unsympathetically. "Try something else. Computer indicates ad
intensity of 0.94."
An ad intensity of 0.0001 means you sell someone something he wants
anyway. An intensity of 1.0 means you have to make the consumer love
something he thinks he hates.
* * * * *
Andy sent a young Felician on the run for Blahrog, and retired to the
storeroom of Blahrog's dwelling, which housed two fair-sized plastic
barrels of Throatduster.
"But you have to try," Blahrog insisted, finishing his second mug of
hospitality.
"Snow good," Andy said, deep into his fifth. "Even Gray Flannel, ad man
in legend, only got to 0.87. Simpossible."
Blahrog, who knew little about advertising or computers, repeated,
"You must try. No member of the Cobbler's Guild has ever quit without
trying."
Andy had been accepted as an apprentice of the Guild the night before.
"Dunno," he said. "Tell you simpossible."
Blahrog climbed off the barrel of Throatduster. "I'll go get Miss
Featherpenny," he said. "Perhaps she can help you."
"Miss Featherpenny. Bah," Andy snorted. "What good would she be? Dumb
steno." He tried to be fair. "Nice legs, I admit. But no brains."
"I'll go get Miss Featherpenny," Blahrog repeated firmly, closing the
door behind him....
"What frame of mind is he in?" Miss Featherpenny looked uncertainly at
the heavy door to Andy's store room.
"Drunk," Blahrog informed her coldly.
It takes an enormous quantity of Throatduster to intoxicate a Felician.
Intoxication is therefore considered bad form.
"And belligerent," the Minister of Finance added.
"Oh, dear." Miss Featherpenny looked at the door again. "But what can I
do?" she asked in a helpless voice. "I'm not a promoter."
"He said," Blahrog indicated the door, "that you were a dumb steno."
"Well!" Hrom exclaimed.
Miss Featherpenny's hackles invisibly rose. Her mouth visibly
tightened. She turned away from the door.