Taking a small flint knife from a leather sheath that hung from his belt, Myles offered it to the child in exchange for the toy, in spite of Crota’s gasping protest at the extravagance.
The boy eagerly accepted the offer, remarking: “Thank you, sir. You should take off those clothes.”
It was a very neat and subtle compliment. Gentlemen Vairkings never wore clothes. Cabot was impressed.
“Your name, my son?” he asked, patting the furry little creature on the head.
“Tomo the Brief,” was the reply.
“I shall remember it.”
Then he hurried back to the public hall, eager to examine his purchase by the light of the oil flares.
Sure enough, it turned out to be really pyrites, and by its deep color probably a pyrites rich in copper. To the Radio Man it meant the first tangible step toward the accomplishment of the greatest radio feat ever undertaken on two worlds; namely the construction of a complete sending and receiving set out of nothing but basic materials in their natural state without the aid of a single previously fabricated man-made tool, utensil, or chemical. To this day Myles wears this cube as a pendant charm in commemoration of that momentous occasion.
As he lay on the floor of the public building that night the earth-man reviewed the events of the day until he came to the episode of the purchase of the cubical pyrite crystal from little Tomo.
“Your name, my son?” Cabot had asked him.