"Novelty, Mr. Field. I have studied the imaginative magazines closely and it occurs to me that they are already beginning to specialize. One of them uses highly technical stories, another adheres to stories of other planets in this system. Orion will link each story with all the others in it. Instead of a hundred interpretations of the life patterns of Orion we shall have but one. Of course casual stories we buy will have to be revamped to fit in."
"That's where I come in," I guessed.
"Exactly. But don't you feel that we will wind up with a fascinating pseudo-history of Orion, and that such a magazine would create a furore with its realistic slant?"
"I guess so."
It tasted like my first olive. But Wallace Starr was obviously burning with enthusiasm. He sounded just a little like a crackpot. A rich crackpot, maybe.
"It will be hard work, Mr. Field. But rewarding. Are you prepared to accept my proposition?" He spoke like a man who means business.
I hesitated. It is well-known that the mortality rate among new fiction magazines is high. I had writing contracts to fill, I was doing okay. Editing a monthly is a full-time job.
"About salary—" I hinted.
He named a figure that made my hair curl. What could I say but, "When do we start, Boss?"