"Deleon Salts," Halleck said again, blowing a shaft of smoke ceilingward. "The stuff that holds the secret of rejuvenation for the Kamalis. We're going to get a lot of it, ship it back to Earth and sell it for a high price."
"But ... but good Lord, you can't do that...."
"I know what you're going to say," interrupted Halleck, "that although these salts enable the Kamalis to maintain eternal life, they mean instant death to a person of Earth. Well, we've taken care of that. We've worked out a process that makes them harmless for a year."
"And after that...?" Simms persisted.
Halleck shrugged. "After that we'll have made our pile. We're simply selling a drug guaranteed to erase the ravages of time. It'll go like wildfire."
Up on the wall a mercury clock pulsed rhythmically, and below the floor level sounded the faint drone of the dehydrators. Motionless, Simms sat there. Like wildfire, Halleck had said. And the words were only too true. The quest for perpetual youth was eternal. Earth men still envied the two hundred year old Martians, the three hundred year old Jovians. Tell them that these Deleon Salts were both harmless and effective, and the results would be cataclysmic.
Every person on Earth would demand some of the crystals. And in a year....
"Where did you get these salts?" Simms asked.
For answer Halleck reached forward and plucked something from the Venusian Service man's belt before the latter could restrain him. Capped and sealed at both ends, it was an official mold-proof message cylinder.