"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.