"What's a dentist?"
"Man who fixes your teeth."
"But we don't have teeth," Hrom said.
"I forgot," Miss Featherpenny moaned. "Oh, Lord, I guess I'll have to
go all the way back to Earth."
Hrom shook her head. "There are a lot of Earthers living on Darius IV.
They must have a dentist. There's a ship every morning."
"Fine," Miss Featherpenny gasped.
"Can I get you something for the pain? Would an aspirtran help?"
"I'd better have two. Thanks."
"Here. Take the bottle with you." Hrom was frowning worriedly. "My, I'm
glad we don't have teeth."
"I'll have to tell Andy--Mr. Stephens--that I'm leaving."
Inspiration dawned on Hrom's face. "I've hardly been out of the house
since the baby was born. I'll leave him with my husband's mother and go
with you."
"I'd be glad of the company," Miss Featherpenny admitted.
"Good. I'll find out what time the ship leaves, and tell Mother Klagom
about the treat she's got coming. You go tell Mr. Stephens and then
come back here for the night."
Miss Featherpenny heard them shouting before she opened the council
chamber door.
"I suggest," Andy was saying, "that you either change the styles or go
back to the tourist business."
She pushed the door open.
"Mr. Stephens," Blahrog said mildly, "the last time calamity was upon
us, you solved the problem by drinking Throatduster until you got an
idea. May I suggest that you try again?"
"Andy," Miss Featherpenny whispered.
"Well?" he snapped.
"I broke a tooth. I'm going over to Darius IV tomorrow, with Hrom, to
have it fixed."
"Why Darius IV?" Andy demanded. "What's the matter with Felician
dentists?"
"What's Hrom going to do with boy?" Blahrog demanded.
"Hrom's leaving the baby with Mrs. Klagom," Miss Featherpenny answered,
"and there aren't any Felician dentists."
"Mrs. Klagom is a silly woman," Blahrog disapproved. "She would do
better to leave him with me."
"If you must, I suppose you must," Andy admitted grudgingly. "Where are
you going now?"
"Back to Hrom's house to lie down."
"Tell her I'll mind the baby," Blahrog called after her.
As she closed the door, she heard Andy say, "Gentlemen, if you'll
supply the Throatduster, I'll give it a try."
* * * * *
"It's awfully quiet," Hrom said doubtfully, looking around at the
Felician spaceport. "Look at the tannery chimneys. No smoke."
Miss Featherpenny, her mouth in good repair, glanced into the bar as
they passed it. "Only two shippers," she said. "There are usually
dozens."
"They must have stopped production entirely," Hrom said.
"Maybe Andy thought of something."
"I wonder if Papa brought the car down for us."
He hadn't. They walked into town.
Blahrog was in conference with the Everking.
"I'd better wait for him," Miss Featherpenny said. "I want to find out
what's going on before I talk to Andy."
"I'd better rescue Mother Klagom from the baby."
Blahrog was as long-winded as usual.
"Where is Mr. Stephens?" Miss Featherpenny demanded, as soon as she saw
him coming down the hall.
"In his old storeroom," Blahrog said moodily. "He's quite drunk, I
believe, but he doesn't seem to be getting any ideas."
"Then why did you stop cobbling?"
Blahrog did a Felician shrug. "We're waiting to see what happens.
There's no sense making shoes any more if they aren't wanted."
"I have to talk to him," Miss Featherpenny said.
"Do you have an idea?"
"No," Miss Featherpenny lied. "But you'd let him drink himself to
death, if he didn't think of anything."
"You want a lift in the car?" Blahrog asked, uninsulted.
"I'd be pleased, if you don't mind. I just walked in from the port."
* * * * *
Andy was not, as Blahrog had suggested, very drunk. He was only hung
over. "Get your tooth fixed?" he asked cheerlessly.
"Yes."
"Good dentist?"
Miss Featherpenny nodded. "He had some entirely new equipment.
Extremely powerful, and quite precise."
"Oh?" Andy straightened in the old arm chair. "I've been trying to
think. And drinking. Throatduster isn't working this time." He paused
to reconsider. "Except that it makes me drunk. Everything keeps getting
fuzzy, and my head is wider than my shoulders."
"The dentist said," Miss Featherpenny persisted, "that he could pull a
whale's tooth as easily and smoothly as he pulled mine."
"You had to have it pulled? Too bad." Andy made a face at the full mug
of Throatduster on the barrel beside him. "The Felicians won't change
their minds about the shoes, and they won't try tourists again. I
can't think of anything else. And they can claim the guarantee. I was
bluffing."
"I know," Miss Featherpenny said. She tried again. "The dentist claims
even the tiniest species could do dental work on the biggest species."
She paused, hoping it would sink in. "Providing the tiny species had
sufficient dexterity."
"Blasted Felicians," Andy muttered. "Stubborn little pigs."
"That's part of their trouble, I think," Miss Featherpenny said. "Being
little, I mean. But it doesn't always work against them. When they're
doing delicate work...."
"Like those shoes," Andy agreed. "'Best possible shapes already,'" he
imitated Blahrog.
"They're one of the smallest intelligent species," Miss Featherpenny
said in desperation. "And their manual dexterity rating is one of the
highest. Why, a Felician could get both hands inside an Earther's
mouth."
"And steal his fillings...." Andy started. "Wait a minute. You've given
me an idea."