“Good enough,” Bullard said. “I’m expecting someone else tomorrow. After you bring him down, feel free to drop over and see me anytime.”
Bullard went back to his ship, and Hansen went to bed. He dreamed of His Exalted Excellency R’thagna Bar, growing angrier day by day as the time of mating came closer. In his dream he suddenly came upon a magnificent solution to the problem, a solution involving a telepathic system of fertilization. He woke up before he had completely worked out the details.
Bullard’s friend arrived the same morning. He was a small, dark active little man whom Hansen immediately disliked.
“Meet Dr. Quemos,” Bullard said when Hansen dropped in on them. “Dr. Quemos is a specialist in the history of technology. He thinks he knows how our cute little door mechanism is made.”
“Can’t say for sure,” Quemos said, “but I’d guess that those components are made of metal—real metal.”
“I thought that metal was used only in jewelry,” Hansen said.
Dr. Quemos grinned slyly. “That’s what most people think. Actually, refined metal of various types was used in large masses, formed masses, for thousands of years. Historically speaking, the pseudo-mets are relatively new.”
“It’s difficult to imagine metal functioning as machinery,” Hansen mused.