Exactly. Your supply of gold
"Just that. The masses. I might be willing to deal with you, but yourlittle machines must be used to be useful. How might riches come to me, ifI had to use ?what is it you sell??well, a razor, for instance, only inthe strictest, trembling secrecy. Even if my chin were more simply and morecleanly shaven, how would I become rich? And how would I avoid death by gaschamber or mob frightfulness if I were ever once caught using it?"Ponyets shrugged, "You are correct. I might point out that the remedy wouldbe to educate your own people into the use of nucleics for theirconvenience and your own substantial profit. It would be a gigantic pieceof work; I don't deny it; but the returns would be still more gigantic.
Still that is your concern, and, at the moment, not mine at all. For Ioffer neither razor, knife, nor mechanical garbage disposer.""What do you offer?""Gold itself. Directly. You may have the machine I demonstrated last week."And now Pherl stiffened and the skin on his forehead moved jerkily. "Thetransmuter?"" will equal your supply of iron. That, Iimagine, is sufficient for all needs. Sufficient for the Grand Mastershipitself, despite youth and enemies. And it is safe.""In what way?""In that secrecy is the essence of its use; that same secrecy you describedas the only safety with regard to nucleics. You may bury the transmuter inthe deepest dungeon of the strongest fortress on your furthest estate, andit will still bring you instant wealth. It is the gold you buy, not themachine, and that gold bears no trace of its manufacture, for it cannot betold from the natural creation.""And who is to operate the machine ?"
"Yourself. Five minutes teaching is all you will require. I'll set it upfor you wherever you wish.""And in return?""Well," Ponyets grew cautious. "I ask a price and a handsome one. It is myliving. Let us say,?for it its a valuable machine ?the equivalent of acubic foot of gold in wrought iron."Pherl laughed, and Ponyets grew red. "I point out, sir," he added, stiffly,"that you can get your price back in two hours.""True, and in one hour, you might be gone, and my machine might suddenlyturn out to be useless. I'll need a guarantee.""You have my word."
"A very good one," Pherl bowed sardonically, "but your presence would be aneven better assurance. I'll give you my word to pay you one week afterdelivery in working order.""Impossible.""Impossible? When you've already incurred the death penalty very handily byeven offering to sell me anything. The only alternative is my word thatyou'll get the gas chamber tomorrow otherwise."Ponyet's face was expressionless, but his eyes might have flickered. Hesaid, "It is an unfair advantage. You will at least put your promise inwriting?""And also become liable for execution? No, sir!" Pherl smiled a broadsatisfaction. "No, sir! Only one of us is a fool ."
