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Most of them were as richly garbed as their host. Most of them in their middle years. All of them alert of eye. All of them confidently at ease. Amschel Mayer took his place at the table's end and Jerome Kennedy sank into the chair next to him. Mayer took the time to speak to each of his guests individually, then he leaned back and took in the gathering as a whole.
In fact, it was Chessman who finally brought us to space travel." "That's right," Buchwald blurted. "You've got a spaceship out there. How could you possibly ?" Taller said mildly, "There are but a handful of you, you could hardly keep track of two whole planets and all that went on upon them." Amschel Mayer said bitingly, "All this can be gone over on our return to Terra City.
You know the extent of Genoa's industrial progress. Seek out the most advanced weapons this technology could produce." Kennedy came to his own feet, shocked by Gunther's news. "But, Amschel, do you think it's wise to precipitate an intercontinental war? Remember, we've been helping to industrialize the west, too. It's almost as advanced as our continent. Their war potential isn't negligible."
Baron Leonar, son of the original Baron who had met with Amschel Mayer thirty years before, was a man in his mid-forties. He said quietly, "It seems to me the time has arrived when the two planets might profit by intercourse. Surely in this time one has progressed beyond the other in this field, but lagged in that.
His voice lost volume. "The position in which you find yourselves should be humbling." "It is," Amschel Mayer agreed. Plekhanov nodded his head. The Co-ordinator nodded, too. "However, the situation is as near ideal as we could hope. Rigel's planets are all but unbelievably Earthlike. Almost all our flora and fauna have been adaptable. Certainly our race has been.
Well, that's what they're doing." "Are you insane!" Mayer squirmed in his chair. "Did you read this radiogram? They've squeezed out all my holdings in rubber, the fastest growing industry on the western continent. Why, millions are involved. Who do they think they are?" Kennedy put down his glass and chuckled. "See here, Amschel, we're developing this planet by encouraging free competition.
He was a small man fantastically rich in his attire. "This is true, Honorable Mayer." Mayer said, tossing a small booklet to the other, "I have here the plans for a new method of making steel from pig iron. The Bessemer method, we'll call it. The principle involved is the oxidation of the impurities in the iron by blowing air through the molten metal." Amschel Mayer turned to still another.
An armed camp! How many persons have you slaughtered thus far?" "Easy," Joe Chessman growled. Amschel Mayer spun on him. "I need no instruction from you, Chessman. Please remember I'm senior in charge of this expedition and as such rank you." Plekhanov thudded a heavy hand on the table. "I'll call my assistants to order, Mayer, if I feel it necessary.
"At least our agents do a fairly good job of reporting yours." "And ours, yours," Watson rapped. "However," MacDonald said, "now that we are drawing near the end of our half century, I think it becomes obvious that Amschel Mayer's original contention that a freely competitive economy grows faster than one restricted by totalitarian bounds has been proven." Barry Watson snorted amusement.
The Texcocan group consisted of Barry Watson, Dick Hawkins and Natt Roberts to one side of him, Generalissimo Taller and six highly bemedaled Texcocans on the other. Before taking a seat Barry Watson barked, "Where's Amschel Mayer? I've got some important points to cover with him." "Take it easy," Kennedy slurred. "For that matter, where's Joe Chessman?" Watson glared at the other.
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