“I am Lord Willoughby, Governor General of His Majesty's colonies in the
West Indies. You were informed, I think, of my coming.”

The remains of Bishop's anger fell from him like a cloak. He broke into
a sweat of fear. Behind him Lord Julian looked on, his handsome face
suddenly white and drawn.

“But, my lord...” began the Colonel.

“Sir, I am not concerned to hear your reasons,” his lordship interrupted
him harshly. “I am on the point of sailing and I have not the time. The
Governor will hear you, and no doubt deal justly by you.” He waved to
Major Mallard, and Bishop, a crumpled, broken man, allowed himself to be
led away.

To Lord Julian, who went with him, since none deterred him, Bishop
expressed himself when presently he had sufficiently recovered.

“This is one more item to the account of that scoundrel Blood,” he
said, through his teeth. “My God, what a reckoning there will be when we
meet!”

Major Mallard turned away his face that he might conceal his smile, and
without further words led him a prisoner to the Governor's house, the
house that so long had been Colonel Bishop's own residence. He was left
to wait under guard in the hall, whilst Major Mallard went ahead to
announce him.

Miss Bishop was still with Peter Blood when Major Mallard entered. His
announcement startled them back to realities.

“You will be merciful with him. You will spare him all you can for my
sake, Peter,” she pleaded.

“To be sure I will,” said Blood. “But I'm afraid the circumstances
won't.”

She effaced herself, escaping into the garden, and Major Mallard fetched
the Colonel.

“His excellency the Governor will see you now,” said he, and threw wide
the door.

Colonel Bishop staggered in, and stood waiting.

At the table sat a man of whom nothing was visible but the top of a
carefully curled black head. Then this head was raised, and a pair of
blue eyes solemnly regarded the prisoner. Colonel Bishop made a noise
in his throat, and, paralyzed by amazement, stared into the face of his
excellency the Deputy-Governor of Jamaica, which was the face of the man
he had been hunting in Tortuga to his present undoing.

The situation was best expressed to Lord Willoughby by van der Kuylen as
the pair stepped aboard the Admiral's flagship.

“Id is fery boedigal!” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “Cabdain Blood
is fond of boedry--you remember de abble-blossoms. So? Ha, ha!”


Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Stephen Blundell
http://www.pgdp.net

 A
 TRANSMUTATION
 OF MUDDLES

 _An experienced horse-trader, bargain-haggler,
 and general swapper has a very special talent for
 turning two headaches into one aspirin pill...._

 By H. B. FYFE

 Illustrated by Van Dongen

The rugged little stellar scout ship flared down to the surface of Kappa
Orionis VII about a mile from the aboriginal village. The pilot,
Lieutenant Eric Haruhiku, scorched an open field, but pointed out to
Louis Mayne that he had been careful to disturb neither woodland nor
shoreline.

"The Kappans are touchy about those, Judge," he explained, "They fish a
lot, as you'd guess from all these shallow seas, and they pick fruit in
the forests; but they don't farm much."

"No use provoking trouble," Mayne approved. "It's a long way from
Rigel."

"It's a longer way from Sol," said the pilot.

"Don't I know, boy! If it weren't, I'd be just another retired space
captain, quietly struggling with my ranch on Rigel IX. As it is, to get
the grant, I had to remain on call as an arbitrator."

"Somebody has to settle these things," said Haruhiku. "There's not much
law way out here, except what the Space Force can apply. Well, if you'll
excuse me, sir, I'll have them get out the helicopter and take us over
to the village."

"Let me see that last message again, before you go," Mayne requested.

The pilot extracted a sheet from his clipboard and handed it to Mayne as
he left. Mayne studied the text with little pleasure.

Terran Space Force headquarters on Rigel IX wished to inform him that
the long awaited envoy from Terra to Kappa Orionis VII not only had
arrived but had departed two days behind Mayne.

It was hoped, the communication continued, that nothing would interfere
with the desired objective of coming to some friendly agreement with the
Kappans that would permit Terran use of the planet as a base for
spaceships. The envoy, of course, was prepared to offer trade
inducements and various other forms of help to the semi-civilized
natives. Mayne was requested to lay whatever groundwork he could.

_In my spare time, no doubt_, he reflected. _I'm to settle this silly
business any way at all--as long as the natives get their way. But has
anybody told the government about insurance companies? If it costs money
or a lawsuit, will they back me up?_

He felt himself to be in a ridiculous dilemma. The Kappans were reported
to have seized a Terran spaceship as it landed to trade. Naturally, the
captain had squawked for help. He claimed he had crashed; his insurance
company thought otherwise; the Kappans seemed to have some entirely
different idea in mind. Mayne had been summoned into action to render a
decision, after the rough and ready system of these settlements on the
surface of Terra's sphere of explored space.

Regretfully, he made his way now to the cubbyhole allowed him on the
cramped scout, where he changed to a more formal tunic of a bright blue
he hoped would look impressive to native eyes. By the time he was ready,
the helicopter was waiting. He and Haruhiku entered, and the crewman at
the controls took off for the scene of the dispute.

Arriving over the village, they hovered a few minutes while Haruhiku
studied the lay of the land. The lieutenant had been to this world
before, long enough to pick up some of the language and customs, so
Mayne was content to follow his advice about landing a little way off
from a spaceship that towered outside the village.

They came down about a hundred yards away, between a rutted sort of road
and a long hut covered by a curved, thatched roof.

"They're expecting us," said Haruhiku, gesturing at the group before the
hut.

It consisted of half a dozen humans and several of the Kappan natives.
The latter, naturally, caught Mayne's eye first. The most imposing
individual among them stood about five feet tall. The planet being of
about the same mass as Terra, the Kappan probably weighed over two
hundred and fifty pounds. He was a rugged biped with something saurian
in his ancestry; for his skin was scaled, and bony plates grew into a
low crown upon his long skull. His arms and legs were heavy and bowed,
with joints obscured by thick muscles and loose skin. Mayne was struck
by the fancy that the Kappan's color, a blend of brown and olive, was
that of a small dragon who had achieved a good suntan. A yellow kilt was
his main article of attire, although he wore a few decorations of
polished bone.

One of the Terrans stepped forward. He wore a semimilitary uniform.

"I suppose you're Louis Mayne?" he asked.

"Right," answered Mayne. "You would be Captain Voorhis, of the
_Gemsbok_?"

"Check. This here is Eemakh. He's more or less chief of the village, or
tribe, or whatever you wanna call it."

Mayne found his gaze sinking into catlike slits of jet in a pair of huge
orange eyes shaded by massive brow ridges. The native made some
statement in a clicking language that had a harsh, choppy rhythm.

"He welcomes you to Kappa," Haruhiku interpreted. "He hopes the gods
will not be displeased."

"What a warm welcome!" commented Mayne. "Have you been getting along
that well, Captain Voorhis?"

"Just about," said the spacer. "One of my boys knows a few words. Rest
of the time, we make signs. I gotta admit they ain't been too
unfriendly."

"But they _have_ seized your ship?"

"You're damn' right! That insurance guy they sent out don't see it that
way though."

"Where is this representative of the Belt Insurance Company?" asked
Mayne.

"Melin? His ship landed over on the other side of the village, about
half a mile. He oughta be along soon. Must've seen you land."

Mayne wondered whether it were necessary to await the arrival of the
insurance adjustor before asking any questions. To cover his hesitation,
he turned to take his first good look at the hull of the _Gemsbok_.

"What do they think they're doing?" he demanded, staring.

The _Gemsbok_ was--or had been--an ungraceful, thick starship on the
verge of aging into scrap. Towering here between the village and the
huge, bluish-green leaves of the Kappan forest, she was in the process
of being transformed into a planet-bound object of a certain weird
grace.

A framework was being constructed about the hull by a swarm of natives.
They had reached halfway up the ship, which served as a central column.
Much of the exterior appeared to be a network of strangely curved
sections of wood that had been given a high polish. Mayne suspected the
greenish highlights were reflections of the forest color.

"Bone," said Voorhis succinctly. "They collect it from things they catch
in the sea. Main supports of timber, of course, built to fit the hull."

"The fish here grow very large," put in Haruhiku. "If you could call
them fish, that is. I once saw them butchering what looked more like a
dinosaur."

Mayne realized that the bone framework formed a sort of curtain wall. At
the lower levels, some of the natives seemed to be experimenting with a
coating of wet leaves which they were molding to the wall.

"They've soaked them in something they boil out of fish parts," his
pilot explained. "Like the village roofs. When it dries, it's pretty
hard, even waterproof. The stink never dries out."

"But what do they have in their bony little brains?" asked Mayne. "Just
what is that mess supposed to be?"

"A temple, believe it or not," answered Voorhis. "They tell me I set her
down on land sacred to the great god Meeg!"

Mayne looked at Haruhiku.

"Oh, come on, now! I came all the way from--" He stopped as he noticed
the pilot's grave expression. "Oh! That sort of thing _could_ be
serious, I guess."

He imagined he had seen the chief, Eemakh, come alert at the mention of
the local god. Mayne sighed. It was going to be a long day.

He was saved for the time being by a hail from the direction of the
village. A procession was approaching along the set of ruts between
Mayne and the ship.

The place of honor appeared to be occupied by a two-wheeled cart of
crude but massive design. Upon it rode a Kappan driver, two Kappans with
spears and the look of official guards, and a Terran with a death-grip
upon the side railing. A brace of truculent beasts of frighteningly
saurian mien shuffled ponderously along in the loose harness. From time
to time, one or the other would stumble over a turn in his rut and emit
a menacing rumble as if he suspected his team mate of causing the
misstep.

Before and behind this conveyance marched a guard of honor of Kappan
warriors. The rear contingent kept close to the cart, but the advance
party had opened a noticeable gap between themselves and the hulking
team.

The procession halted, the soldier in charge raised his spear in salute
to Eemakh, and the shaken Terran was assisted to dismount. He introduced
himself to Mayne as Robert Melin.

"Let's go over to the hut they made for us an' sit down," suggested
Voorhis.

Melin, a tall, gloomy blond whose civilian suit seemed a trifle formal
for the surroundings, acceded gratefully. He mopped the dust from his
long face and watched the cart being turned around.

The procession moved off in the direction of the village, the advance
guard stepping out especially smartly, and Mayne began to get his
conference arranged.

He learned that the evicted crew of the _Gemsbok_ had been living in the
hut nearby. Before it stood a long table with benches, all evidently
knocked together from recently felled timber. Melin was given credit for
this by Voorhis, since before the arrival of the insurance adjuster and
his crew, no power tools had been available to the men from the
_Gemsbok_.

Mayne took a place at the end of the table. Some of the _Gemsbok's_ crew
came out of the hut to watch. Most of the Kappan warriors attending the
chief took up stations between the table and the ship, in a manner
suggesting long habit. Mayne guessed that attempts had been made to
re-enter the ship.

He put Haruhiku at his right hand to translate should it be necessary.
Melin and Voorhis sat at his left, their backs to the hut. To the other
side of the table, Eemakh brought two Kappans who were explained to
Mayne as being the tribal high priest, Igrillik, and Kaynox, who
represented a sort of district overlord.

"I meant to land up by _their_ city," Voorhis put in, "but we hit some
bad winds up in the stratosphere. We got knocked around a bit in the
storm, and set down where we could."

"Well, tell me about the details," said Mayne. "I want to get this
straight from the start, if I can. By the way, Lieutenant Haruhiku,
explain to the chief that a special envoy is on the way, that we want
his friendship, and that he will be dealt with fairly."

He waited out the exchange of choppy speech between the pilot and
Eemakh.

"He says he is sure he will be fairly dealt with," reported Haruhiku.

"I wonder what he meant by that," murmured Mayne. "If we make a deal
here, and thereby with his overlord, will that cover enough territory to
be official?"

"As much as you can get together anywhere on this world, sir."

Mayne nodded, then turned to Captain Voorhis.

"Now about this so-called crash?" he prompted.

"Well, there was this storm, like I said. Trouble was we didn't expect
to hit it and ... well ... somebody took it in his head to blow some of
the fuel tanks for a crash landing. That's why I'm not claimin' anythin'
on the fuel," he finished, turning to Melin.

"We are perfectly willing to pay on that item," replied the insurance
man.

"Anyhow," continued Voorhis, "I set down here where we saw the open
spot, an' then of course we were stuck with nothin' to lift off with. It
looked all right. We'd unload our goods, an' if the local crowd couldn't
use them all, why they'd pass the rest on at a profit to themselves. So
we come out to palaver, an' then they won't let us go back in the ship.
We were just lucky my com man had sent out a landing report when it
looked like we piled up, or the Space Force patrol never woulda heard of
us."

"Was there any trouble?" asked Mayne. "Any unnecessary hostility?"

Voorhis considered, rubbing the back of his head thoughtfully.

"Well ... I suppose, lookin' at it their way, they coulda been a lot
rougher. A couple of punches got thrown, an' one of my boys got a spear
busted over his head, but mostly they acted ... well ... maybe more like
cops than cannibals."

"Just enforcing the native laws, eh?"

Voorhis did not swallow that quite so graciously. He did not know or
care what the local laws might be, but he thought it suspicious in the
extreme that he should have plopped down exactly upon the spot chosen by
the natives for a temple.

"So do they have to use my ship to hang it on?" he finished plaintively.

"The company is in agreement with you there, captain," Melin put in.
"You see, Judge, our point is that nothing is really lost or seriously
damaged, neither ship nor cargo. They are merely being withheld from
their rightful owner, and we believe that puts the responsibility for
recovery upon the Terran government. Captain Voorhis has our entire
sympathy--"

"Yeah!" said Voorhis. "An' if I get my head sliced off tryin' to get at
that undamaged cargo, you'll come to my funeral! I say it's a loss!"

"Now, gentlemen!" interrupted Mayne. "Let me get on with this. Both of
you, I'm sure, realize that I'm not a lawyer in spite of being a special
judge. If the colonies way out here had enough lawyers to spare, I
certainly wouldn't be sticking my head into this. Nevertheless, any
decision I make here will be regarded as legally binding by the
government of Rigel IX, so let us remain level-headed."

"Very well, Judge," said Melin. "Here are the figures on--"

"Please round them off," said Mayne. "If I have to listen to a long list
in centicredits, I'll probably go off to see what kind of beer they brew
here."

"You wouldn't like it," muttered Voorhis, staring sourly at the village.

"No doubt," grinned Mayne.

Melin swallowed and returned to an inner pocket a sheaf of papers he had
withdrawn.

"Speaking very loosely," he went on, as if hating to do anything
loosely, "the coverage was about as follows: for the _Gemsbok_ herself,
two million; but that was really a nominal figure accorded as a sort of
courtesy. Otherwise, at her true worth, the authorities would hardly
have permitted Captain Voorhis to take her into space--"

"Get on with it," urged Mayne, to forestall any wrangle.

"Er ... yes. Then on the cargo, the purchase cost of two hundred
thousand credits."

Voorhis visibly flinched and began to acquire a ruddy hue.

"And, finally, on the fuel load, the cost price of three hundred
thousand. Of course, Judge, there are detailed clauses as to normal use
of fuel. He was actually insured against defects, premature explosions,
accidental loss, et cetera."

Mayne did some addition in his head.

"So your company," he said aloud, "is prepared to pay two and a half
million for the loss sustained by Captain Voorhis. What seems to be
wrong with that?"

Both men began to talk but Melin, struggling less with temper, got the
lead.

"Actually," he said, "we feel liable for only three hundred thousand."

_Now it will get tough_, thought Mayne. He silently awaited elucidation.

The combined stares of all parties, including the enigmatic glance of
Eemakh, calmed the spluttering Voorhis. Melin continued.

"In the first place, the true value of the ship, even if we consider her
to be incapacitated--which we do not--is only about one hundred and
fifty thousand."

"She's worth more than that as scrap!" bellowed Voorhis.

"No, captain, just about that. It is exactly how we valued her. Do you
have any idea, Judge, of how old that crock is?"

"Let's not go into that just yet," suggested Mayne.

"As to the fuel," said Melin, "I am willing, as a gesture of good will,
to stick my company's neck out--and mine with it, you may be sure--and
honor a full claim."

"Even though he used about half the fuel getting here?" asked Mayne.

"We'll ignore that. We admit that he is out of fuel, and we want to--"

"You want to give me a moon and take a star," said Voorhis.

"Just a minute!" Mayne held up his hand. "That's the ship and the fuel.
What about the cargo?"

"Why, as to that, Judge, we do not admit that it is lost. It is right
over there, easily accessible. We consider it more the job of the Space
Force to restore rightful possession than it is the responsibility of
the company to reimburse Captain Voorhis for the inflated value he sets
upon it."

"I begin to see," murmured Mayne. "You can't stick each other, so you're
out to slip _me_ the bill."

That aroused a babble of denials. Mayne eventually made himself heard
and demanded to know how the spacer's evaluation differed from Melin's.
Voorhis pulled himself together, glowering at the insurance man.

"In the first place," he growled, "I don't want his lousy payment for
fuel. I said I'd take the blame for that, an' I will. On the ship ...
well, maybe she ain't worth two million. Maybe she ain't been for a few
years now--"

Melin made a show of counting on his fingers.

"... But they charged me premiums by that figure an' I say they oughta
pay by that figure."

"But can you prove she's a total loss, captain?" asked Mayne.

Voorhis grimaced and spat upon the ground.

"Try to get near her, Judge! You'll get proof fast enough!"

"Well ... about the cargo, then?"

"_That's_ where he's gouging me!" exploded Voorhis. "The idea of using
the cost as of loading on Rigel IX! Hell, you know the margin of profit
there is in trading on these new planets, twenty to one at least. I
figured to lift off with four million worth of ores, gems, curios, and
whatnot."

"So your point is that the mere transportation of the goods through
space to this planet increased their value. What about that, Mr. Melin?"

Melin shifted uncomfortably on his bench. Mayne would have liked to
change his own position, but feared splinters.

"There is an element of truth in that," admitted Melin. "Still, it would
be rash to expect such a return every time a tramp spaceship lands to
swap with some aboriginal easy marks."

"I suppose," said Mayne, "that our orange-eyed friends speak no Terran?"

"I hope not!" exclaimed Voorhis.

"Well, anyway," Melin said after a startled pause, "how can we be
expected to pay off on hopes? He wants the paper figure for the ship;
but he refuses the paper figure for the cargo."

Mayne shrugged. He turned to Haruhiku.

"If Captain Voorhis and Mr. Melin don't mind, lieutenant, I'd like to
get the chief's view of all this."

"Hah!" grunted Voorhis, clapping both hands to his head.

Melin contented himself with rolling his eyes skyward.

With Haruhiku translating, Mayne began to get acquainted with the
Kappans. The visitor from the neighboring city chose mostly to listen
attentively, but Igrillik, the priest, occasionally leaned over to
whisper sibilantly into Eemakh's recessed ear. Mayne fancied he saw a
resemblance between the two, despite Igrillik's professional
trappings--a long robe of rough material that had been dyed in stripes
and figures of several crude colors, and a tall cap to which were
attached a number of pairs of membraneous wings.

The first thing that Mayne learned was that the _Gemsbok_ was not a
spaceship; it was a symbol, a sign sent to the Kappans by the great god
Meeg.

"And why did he send it?" asked Mayne.

He had sent it as a sign that he was impatient with his children. They
had vowed him a temple, they had set aside the necessary land, and yet
they had not begun the work.

"Is that why they're all over there, slaving away so feverishly?"

It was indeed the reason. After all, Meeg was the god of the inner moon,
the one that passed so speedily across the sky. If he could guide the
strangers' ship directly to his own plot of ground, he might just as
easily have caused it to land in the center of the village. They had
seen the flames that attended the landing. Could the honored chief from
the stars blame them for heeding the warning?

"I see their point," muttered Mayne resignedly. "Well, maybe we can talk
sense about the cargo. Tell them that there is much in the holds that
would make their lives richer. Tools, gems, fine cloth--give them the
story, lieutenant."

This time, Eemakh conferred with the high priest. It developed that the
cargo was a sacred gift to be used or not as the god Meeg might
subsequently direct. The chief meant no insult. The Kappans realized
that Voorhis and his crew were no demons, but starmen such as had often
brought valuable goods to trade. The Kappans had not sought to harm or
sacrifice them, had they? This was because they were both welcome as
visitors and respected as instruments of Meeg.

Eemakh wished to be fair. The starmen might think they had lost by the
divine mission. Very well--they would be granted land, good land with
forest for hunting and shoreline for fishing. But go near the temple
they should not!

"Could _I_ get in to inspect the cargo?" asked Mayne.

Haruhiku took this up with the Kappans, who softened but did not yield.

"The best I can get, Judge," said the pilot, "is that they wish it were
possible but only those who serve the purposes of Meeg may enter."

"They _would_ look at it that way," sighed Mayne. "Let's leave it at
that, until we can think this over some more. It's time for a lunch
break anyway."

He and Haruhiku were flown back to the scout ship. Mayne brooded
silently most of the way. Voorhis thought he was entitled to about six
million credits for ship and cargo; Melin thought half a million for the
ship and fuel would be stretching it. Mayne foresaw that he would have
to knock heads.

The two of them lunched in the pilot's cabin, with hardly room to drop a
spoon. Except for companionship, Mayne would as soon have eaten standing
in the galley.

He considered the vast area of the planet's land surface. Would it be
wiser for the envoy to land elsewhere? What sort of ties were there
between tribes?

"Loose," the pilot told him. "Still, word gets around, with no great
mountain or ocean barriers. They've split into groups, but there is a
lot of contact."

"So if the Space Force should seize the _Gemsbok_, they'll all hear
about it?"

"Within a few weeks, sir. That kind of news has wings on any world. I
think we could take her for you, but we might do some damage. The size
of a scout crew doesn't lend itself to hand-to-hand brawls."

"And if you sling a couple of torpedoes at the Kappan village, you'll
probably wipe it out," said Mayne thoughtfully. "Give the story a month
to spread, and no Terran would be trusted anywhere on the planet. Hm-m-m
... hardly practical!"

"There would also be a chance of damaging the _Gemsbok_."

"Actually, Eric, I'd hardly care if you blew her into orbit, with
Voorhis and Melin riding the fins! But I'm supposed to spread sweetness
and light around here--not scraps and parts of spaceships."

He gnawed moodily upon a knuckle, but saw no way to escape putting up
some government money. Soaking the company would just make _them_ appeal
instead of Voorhis.

"This Meeg," he said to change the subject. "How important is he?"

Haruhiku considered a moment before replying.

"They have a whole mess of gods, like most primitive societies. Meeg is
pretty important. I think he has a special significance to this tribe
... you know, like some ancient Terran cities has a special patron."

"He's the god of that little moon?" Mayne asked.

"Oh, more than that, I think. Really the god of speed, a message bearer
for the other divinities. There always seems to be one in every
primitive mythology."

"Yes," murmured Mayne. "Let's see ... one parallel would be the ancient
Terran Hermes, wouldn't it?"

"Something like that," agreed Haruhiku. "I'm a little vague on the
subject, sir. At least, he isn't one of the bloodthirsty ones."

"That helps," sighed Mayne, "but not enough."

He got a message blank from the pilot. With some labor, he composed a
request to Terran headquarters on Rigel IX for authorization to spend
two million credits on good-will preparations for the Terran-Kappan
treaty conference.

_It almost sounds diplomatic_, he told himself before having the message
sent.

The waiting period that followed was more to be blamed upon headquarters
pussyfooting than upon the subspace transmission. When an answer finally
came, it required a further exchange of messages.

Mayne's last communique might have been boiled down to, "But I _need_
it!"

The last reply granted provisional permission to spend the sum
mentioned; but gleaming between the lines like the sweep of a revolving
beacon was a strong intimation that Mayne had better not hope to charge
the item to "good will." The budget just was not made that way, the hint
concluded.

"It's due to get dark soon, isn't it?" he asked Haruhiku, crumpling the
final message into a side pocket. "I don't believe I'll resume the talks
till morning. Maybe my head will function again by then."

In the morning, one of the scout's crew again took the pilot and Mayne
to the meeting by helicopter. Mayne spent part of the trip mulling over
a message Haruhiku had received. The spaceship _Diamond Belt_ could be
expected to arrive in orbit about the planet later the same day, bearing
special envoy J. P. McDonald. The captain, having been informed of
Haruhiku's presence, requested landing advice.

"I told him what I know," said the pilot. "We can give him a beam down,
of course, unless you think we should send him somewhere else."

"Well ... let's see how this goes," said Mayne. "They seem to be waiting
for us down there."

They landed to find Voorhis, Melin, and the native officialdom gathered
at the hut facing the new "temple." After exchanging greetings, they sat
down at the table as they had the day before.

"All right, gentlemen," said Mayne to the two Terrans. "You win. The
government is going to have to put something in the pot. I want to make
it as little as possible, so let us have no more nonsense about the true
value of ship or cargo as they stand."

They looked startled at his tone. Mayne went on before they could
recover.

"The object I have in mind, if it seems at all possible, is to put
Captain Voorhis back in business without costing Mr. Melin his job. Now,
let's put our heads together on that problem and worry about justifying
ourselves later."

The most difficult part was to convince Voorhis to surrender his dream
of fantastic profits; but sometime before Mayne got hoarse, the captain
was made to see that he could not have his cake and eat it, too.

Melin agreed that he might pay the paper value of the _Gemsbok_ if he
could pay likewise for the cargo, in which case he would admit a loss.
After all, a spaceship anchored by a temple might reasonably be termed
unspaceworthy. He would take over the cargo and cut his losses by
allowing the government to buy it at two million.

"You wanna come with me next trip?" invited Voorhis when he heard this.
"If that's how you cut loose, we'll make a fortune!"

"Well, there it is," said Mayne, straightening up to ease his aching
back. He must have been leaning tensely over the table longer than he
had thought. "The captain gets two and a half million, Mr. Melin gets
off with paying only half a million, and you've stuck me for the rest."

"Congratulations, Judge!" said Melin. "You now own a ship and cargo
which I presume you will present to the Kappans."

"How can he?" demanded Voorhis. "They figure they own it already."

"We'll worry about that later," said Mayne.

"_You_ will!" Voorhis guffawed. "I hope you get _some_ credit out of
it."

Haruhiku interrupted to inform Mayne that the Kappans, who had been
interested if bewildered listeners, had invited the Terrans to a small
feast.

"I translated enough to let them understand there would be no attempt to
disturb their temple building," he explained. "They now feel they owe us
hospitality."

"Good, that's something," said Mayne.

"I'll tell you what else will be something," grunted Voorhis. "The
food!"

The assemblage repaired to the Kappan village. The Terrans--though it
took some doing--survived the feast.

Mayne thought it best not to inquire into the nature of the dishes
served. Eemakh was evidently determined to display his village's finest
hospitality, so the Terrans even tried the Kappan beer. Mayne absorbed
enough to get used to it.

_Or did it absorb me?_ he wondered. _Igrillik's beginning to look almost
human!_

Eventually, carts were brought, and they rode bumpily out to admire
progress made on the temple. A fresh breeze helped Mayne to remember
that it was now late afternoon and he had yet to settle one matter with
Eemakh.

When they arrived at the site, crewmen from the _Gemsbok_ saw fit to
take Voorhis in charge and carry him into their hut. Mayne sank down at
the table outside, watching Melin grope to a place beside him. He
noticed that Haruhiku's helicopter pilot handed him a message as soon as
the lieutenant alighted.

"That will be from the _Diamond Belt_," Mayne guessed.

He eyed Melin with some amusement. The insurance man stared very quietly
at the board beneath his elbows. His complexion held a tint of green.
Even Eemakh, plodding ponderously up, lowered himself to a bench with a
sigh. The high priest seemed less affected by the celebration, and Mayne
was proud when Haruhiku walked over with his normal bland alertness.

"They're getting near?" he asked.

"Doing braking circles," reported the pilot. "I sent an order for the
scout to give them a beam. There may still be time to send them
somewhere else--"

"One more try here first," Mayne decided. "Tell Eemakh we want to
straighten out some confusion about Meeg and the cargo."

Haruhiku permitted himself a small shrug and translated. Eemakh aroused
himself to a show of interest, while Igrillik turned a suspicious orange
stare upon Mayne. The latter strove to frame in his mind an argument
that would strike them as logical.

"Tell him," he instructed, "that we believe this Meeg was known on
Terra, but by another name. Then describe the mythical Hermes and see
what he says."

Haruhiku began a conversation that lasted several minutes. Igrillik, as
an authority, obviously felt moved to deliver a lengthy opinion. At
last, the pilot turned to Mayne.

"They say we are to be congratulated," he reported.

"Is that all?"

"Well, they do seem a bit more friendly. I was going to try drawing a
picture of that famous statue, with the winged heels and hat, but it
would never match their own conception. Igrillik asks if you claim
belief in Meeg."

"Avoid that," said Mayne. "Now--do they know about ship communications?"

"They are aware that it is done," said Haruhiku. "After all, they just
saw me send a message to the scout over the helicopter screen."

"Good! Point out to them that the _Gemsbok_ also has such equipment."

Haruhiku engaged in another long talk. The Kappans began to show signs
of uneasiness at the end. They remained silent.

"And that therefore," added Mayne, "the Terran who served this machine
should rank in their eyes as a servant of Meeg just as much as Igrillik.
The cargo in the ship was no more his than a message belongs to the
messenger bearing it."

The pilot put this into Kappan, with gestures.

"And furthermore," said Mayne, before it could be suggested that the
owner might be Meeg, "what I have arranged here with Melin and Voorhis
is that the cargo now belongs to all of the Terran people."

Eemakh began to scowl, an impressive contortion on a broad, olive Kappan
visage. Mayne hurried on.

"This being the case, the Kappans _have absolutely no right_ to deny us
the privilege of contributing all these goods to the glory of their
temple!"

"Oh, boy!" grunted Haruhiku. He rattled off the translation.

Mayne watched it hit home. Igrillik leaned over to peer at him
unbelievingly. Eemakh seemed to have difficulty in focusing his glowing
eyes on the Terran.

There were, of course, requests for clarification. Mayne left the
repetitions to the pilot.

In the end, Eemakh arose and embraced him, a startling action that left
Mayne feeling introspectively of his ribs. Igrillik called out something
to the bodyguard attending the chief, causing Mayne to repress a shudder
at the flashing display of big Kappan teeth. He assumed that a smile was
a humanoid constant.

Haruhiku's pilot approached with a new message.

"Now they have to land near here, in half an hour or less," said the
spacer.

"There's just one more thing," Mayne told him. "Voorhis is satisfied,
Melin--look, he's gone to sleep on the table!--is relieved, the Kappans
are friendly, and J. P. McDonald will be happy when he lands. Now I have
to get myself off the hook for two million!"

He turned to the _Gemsbok_ crewmen loitering before the hut.

"Who was the communications man?" he demanded.

A lean, freckled youth with a big nose admitted to the distinction.
Mayne draped an arm about his shoulders and told him he was back in
business.

"Say to them," he instructed Haruhiku, "that if they are to learn how to
use the equipment Meeg has provided for their temple, they must not
delay one minute in taking our friend here into the ship ... uh ... make
that 'temple.' He will show them how a spaceship is called down from the
skies."

Haruhiku gave him a straight-faced glance that was a masked guffaw. He
translated, and orders began to be shouted back and forth among the
Kappans, all the way to the top-most level of the construction. The
lieutenant called his pilot.

"I'll have him flash the scout an order to monitor the _Gemsbok_ and
transfer landing control as soon as they hear her on the air," he
explained.

Mayne nodded. He clutched the arm of the _Gemsbok_ operator, who was
being urged away by Igrillik and a group of warrior escorts.

"Just one thing, son," he shouted over the babble. "Forget about the
ship's call sign. You go on the air calling yourself Kappa Orionis
Central Control."

"Kappa Orionis Central...?" repeated the youth distrustfully.

"You've got it," said Mayne, and shoved him on his way. He turned to
Haruhiku. "The last thing to do is to send the helicopter for some
paint. I don't care if it _isn't_ dry when the _Diamond Belt_ touches
down--I want a sign over the door of this hut!"

"A sign?"

"Make it read 'Spaceport Number 1.' Two million is cheap enough for
buying a spaceport already in operation. There won't be any trouble,
since the Kappans promised the land."

Everyone seemed to be running somewhere. Mayne wiped his face with a
handkerchief and sat down beside Melin, who looked comfortable enough
with his head on the table.

From inside the hut, Mayne could hear snores that must have Voorhis as a
source; the rest of the _Gemsbok_ crewmen had followed the crowd to the
control tower that was also a temple. After a while, Haruhiku returned
and sat down across from Melin.

"Magnificent, Judge!" he said. "We might even get away with it."

"Of course we will," said Mayne, gazing at Melin and listening to
Voorhis. "After all, Hermes was the god of thieves, too!"

THE END

Transcriber's Note:

    This etext was produced from _Astounding Science Fiction_ September
    1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
    typographical errors have been corrected without note.

End of Project Gutenberg's A Transmutation of Muddles, by Horace Brown Fyfe