Birthright

“They were never so blatantly provoked before,” said the Ramorian bitterly.

“I feel,” said Hermione, “that your worries are needless. After all, I am certain that the four Teroni survivors were too far away to tell that our ship was severely crippled.” “Please explain yourself!” came the desperate demand. “As we were pursuing the survivors, a chance shell exploded against our hull, crippling us. But I'm sure the Teron could not have seen it happen. After all, they were some ten million miles away when it occurred.”

“Their sensing devices have a range of twice that distance!” said the Ramorian. “Now they'll know that it is safe to retaliate against us! They can be here in less than two days!” “I'm so sorry!” exclaimed Hermione. “The repairs required to make our ship totally efficient again would take less than half a day, but I fear the journey to Deluros VIII, in our present condition, will consume almost a year. If only there were some other place where we might make repairs...” “Please stand by,” said the Ramorian. The radio went dead for a few minutes, then came on again. “I have been instructed to inform you that you will be permitted to make your repairs on Ramor, or in orbit about us if that is more convenient to you.” “How charitable of you,” said Hermione. “However, I realize that we have blundered and caused you considerable mental and emotional distress by our meddling. Therefore, I feel it would be unfair to impose on you any further. No, we will follow our original plan and return to Deluros VIII, to repair the ship and await your decision about the reopening of trade.” “But the Teroni will destroy us!”

“Surely you overestimate them,” said Hermione. “However, if you were to consider an immediate trading treaty, we would, as a further gesture of brotherhood, remain in your star system until such time as the Teroni are convinced that Ramor is virtually invincible.” Hermione leaned back, shut her eyes, and smiled. It was too bad, she decided, that neither the Ramorians nor Galactic had an analog word for “blackmail.” Within two hours, Hermione Chatham-Smythe, ambassador-at-large, and the premier of Ramor's planetary government had affixed their signatures to a treaty that once again allowed Man to deal commercially with the inhabitants of the Ramorian system. After sending the news on to Deluros VIII, Hermione invited the pilot and Commodore Barnes up to her suite for a brandy.

“Where to next ma'am?” asked the pilot. “It's been quite a long time since we've established a reciprocal trade agreement with any chlorine-breathers in this sector. I'm sure that, given time, we can convince our Teroni brethren of our friendship and good intentions. Don't you agree?” She smiled sweetly and took a sip from her delicate longstemmed glass.