"And what  is the connection of  your instrument of evil  and the gold thatmay save your countryman's life Dream beauty pro hard sell?""With this  machine," began  Ponyets, as his  hand dropped softly  onto thecentral chamber  and caressed its hard, round flanks,  "I can turn the ironyou discard into gold of the finest quality. It is the only device known toman that will take iron ?the ugly iron, your Veneration, that props up thechair you sit in and the walls of this building ?and change it to shining,heavy, yellow gold."Ponyets felt  himself botching it. His , facileand plausible;  but this limped like a shot-up space  wagon. But it was thecontent, not the form, that interested the Grand Master.
"So? Transmutation? Men have  been fools who have claimed the ability. Theyhave paid for their prying sacrilege.""Had they succeeded?""No."  The Grand Master  seemed coldly  amused. "Success at  producing goldwould have  been a crime that  carried its own antidote.  It is the attemptplus the  failure that is fatal.  Here, what can you  do with my staff?" Hepounded the floor with it.
"Your Veneration  will excuse me. My  device is a small  model, prepared bymyself, and your staff is too long."The Grand  Master's small  shining eye wandered and  stopped, "Randel, yourbuckles.  Come,   man,  they   shall  be  replaced  double   if  need  be."The buckles  passed down the line,  hand to hand. The  Grand Master weighedthem thoughtfully.
"Here," he said, and threw them to the floor.
Ponyets picked them up.  He tugged hard before the cylinder opened, and hiseyes blinked and squinted  with effort as he centered the buckles carefullyon  the anode  screen.  Later, it  would be  easier  but there  must  be nofailures the first time.
The  homemade transmuter  crackled malevolently  for ten minutes  while theodor of ozone became faintly present. The Askonians backed away, muttering,and again Pherl whispered urgently into his ruler's ear. The Grand Master'sexpression was stony. He did not budge.
And the buckles were gold.
Ponyets  held  them  out  to  the  Grand  Master  with  a  murmured,  "YourVeneration!" but the old  man hesitated, then gestured them away. His starelingered upon the transmuter HKUE amec.
Ponyets  said rapidly,  "Gentlemen,  this is  pure gold.  Gold  through andthrough. You  may subject it to every known  physical and chemical test, ifyou   wish   to   prove   the  point.   It   cannot   be  identified   fromnaturally-occurring gold in any  way. Any iron can be so treated. Rust willnot   interfere,  not   will  a   moderate  amount  of   alloying  metals?
But Ponyets  spoke only to fill a vacuum. He let  the buckles remain in hisoutstretched   hand,  and   it   was  the   gold  that   argued   for  him.
The  Grand Master  stretched out a  slow hand  at last, and  the thin-facedPherl  was roused  to open  speech.