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"Yes. I told you we haven't any tourists. I was sent to hire a business manager for the Martian export
trade."
"What's wrong with your own people? I mean, Pete, it is not your fault there are so many rackets . . . uh,
taxes . . . and middlemen and agencies and et cetera. That is just the way Earth is set up these days."
"Exactly." Matheny's finger stabbed in the general direction of Doran's pajama top. "And who set it up
that way? Earthmen. We Martians are babes in the bush. What chance do we have to earn dollars on the
scale we need them, in
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The Unicorn Trade
competition with corporations which could buy and sell our whole planet before breakfast? Why, we
couldn't afford three seconds of commercial time on a Lullaby Pillow 'cast. What we need, what we have
to hire, is an executive who knows Earth, who's an Earthman himself. Let him tell us what will appeal to
your people, and how to dodge the tax bite and .. . and, well, you see how it goes, that sort of, uh, thing."
Matheny felt his eloquence running down and grabbed for the second bottle of beer.
"But where do I start?" he asked plaintively, for his loneliness smote him anew. "I'm just a college
professor at home. How would I even get to see "
"It might be arranged," said Doran in a thoughtful tone. "It just might. How much could you pay this
fellow?"
"A hundred megabucks a year, if he'll sign a five-year contract. That's Earth years, mind you."
"I'm sorry to tell you this, Pete," said Doran, "but while that is not bad money, it is not what a
high-powered sales scientist gets in Newer York. Plus his retirement benefits, which he would lose if he
quit where he is now at. And I am sure he would not want to settle on Mars permanently."
"I could offer a certain amount of, uh, well, la-gniappe," said Matheny. "That is, well, I can draw up to a
hundred megabucks myself for, uh, expenses and, well ... let me buy you a drink!"
Doran's black eyes frogged at him. "You might at that," said the Earthman very softly. "Yes, you might at
that."
THE INNOCENT ARRIVAL
71
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Matheny found himself warming. Gus Doran was a thentic bobber. A hell of a swell chap. He explained
modestly that he was a free lance business consultant and it was barely possible he could arrange some
contacts .. . no, no, no commission, all done in the interest of interplanetary friendship . .. well, anyhow,
let's not talk business now. If you have got to stick to beer, Pete, make it a chaser to akvavit. What is
akvavit? Well, I will just take and show you.
A hell of a good bloke. He knew some very funny stories, too, and he laughed at Matheny's, though they
were probably too rustic for a big city taste like his.
"What I really want," said Matheny, "what I really want, I mean, what Mars really needs, get me? is a
confidence man."
"A what?"
"The best and slickest one on Earth, to operate a world-size con game for us and make us some real
money."
"Con man Oh. A slipstring."
"A con by any other name," said Matheny, pouring down an akvavit.
"Hm." Doran squinted through cigaret smoke. "You are interesting me strangely, my friend. Say on."
"No." Matheny realized his head was a bit smoky. The walls of the booth seemed odd, somehow. They
were just leatheroid walls, but they had an odd quality.
"No, sorry, Gus," he said. "I spoke too much."
"Okay. Forget it. I do not like a man that
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The Unicom Trade
pries. But look, let's bomb out of here, how about it? Go have a little fun."
"By all means." Matheny disposed of his last beer. "I could use some gaiety."
"You have come to the right town, then. But let us get you a hotel room first and some more up to date
clothes."
"Allez," said Matheny. "If I don't mean allons, or maybe ahrs."
The drop down to cabramp level and the short ride afterward sobered him; the room rate at the
Jupiter-Astoria sobered him still more. Oh, well, he thought, if I succeed in this job no one at home will
quibble. And the chamber to which he and Doran were shown was spectacular enough, with a pneumo
direct to the bar and a hill-wall transparency to show the vertical incandescence of the towers.
"Whoof!" Matheny sat down. The chair slithered sensuously about his contours. He jumped. "What the
dusty hell Oh." He tried to grin, but his face burned. "I see."
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"That is a sexy type of furniture, all right," agreed Doran. He lowered himself into another chair, cocked
his feet on the 3-D, and waved a cigarette. "Which speaking of, what say we get some girls? It is not too
late to catch them at home, a date here will usually start around 2100 hours earliest."
"What?"
"You know. Dames. Like a certain blonde warhead with twin radar globes and swivel mounting, and she
just loves exotics. Such as you."
"Me?" Matheny heard his voice climb to a
THE INNOCENT ARRIVAL
73
schoolboy squeak. "Me? Exotic? Why, I'm just a little college professor, I, g-g-g, that is " His tongue
got stuck on his palate. He pulled it loose and moistened uncertain lips.
"You are from Mars. Okay? So you fought bushcats barehanded in an abandoned canal."
"What's a bushcat? And we don't have canals. The evaporation rate " [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]