He grins at her without amusement and leads the way to the inside of the trading post. We bring out the stuff we've had some of our Moklins go over and buy for us. Brooks dumps the goods on a table and stands back to see what she'll make of them, grinning with the same lack of mirth. She picks up a visi-reel projector. "Hmm," she says, scornful. "Not very good quality. It's...." Then she stops. She picks up a forest knife. "This," she says, "is a product of--" Then she stops again. She picks up some cloth and fingers it. She really steams. "I see!" she says, angry. "Because we have been on this planet so long and the Moklins are used to our goods, the people of the other trading post _duplicate_ them! Do they cut prices?" "Fifty per cent," says Brooks. I chime in, "But we ain't lost much trade. Lots of Moklins still trade with us, out of friendship. Friendly folks, these Moklins." Just then Deeth comes in, looking just like Casey that used to be here on Moklin. He grins at me. "A girl just brought you a compliment," he lets me know. "Shucks!" I says, embarrassed and pleased. "Send her in and get a present for her." Deeth goes out. Inspector Caldwell hasn't noticed. She's seething over that other trading company copying our trade goods and underselling us on a planet we're supposed to have exclusive. Brooks looks at her grim. "I shall look over their post," she announces, fierce, "and if they want a trade war, they'll get one! We can cut prices if we need to--we have all the resources of the Company behind us!" Brooks seems to be steaming on his own, maybe because she hasn't read his reports. But just then a Moklin girl comes in. Not bad-looking, either. You can see she is a Moklin--she ain't as convincing human as Deeth is, say--but she looks pretty human, at that. She giggles at me. "Compliment," she says, and shows me what she's carrying. I look. It's a Moklin kid, a boy, just about brand-new. And it has my shape ears, and its nose looks like somebody had stepped on it--my nose is that way--and it looks like a very small-sized working model of me. I chuck it under the chin and say, "Kitchy-coo!" It gurgles at me. "What's your name?" I ask the girl. She tells me. I don't remember it, and I don't remember ever seeing her before, but she's paid me a compliment, all right--Moklin-style. "Mighty nice," I say. "Cute as all get-out. I hope he grows up to have more sense than I got, though." Then Deeth comes in with a armload of trade stuff like Old Man Bland gave to the first Moklin kid that was born with long whiskers like his, and I say, "Thanks for the compliment. I am greatly honored." She takes the stuff and giggles again, and goes out. The kid beams at me over her shoulder and waves its fist. Mighty humanlike. A right cute kid, any way you look at it. Then I hear a noise. Inspector Caldwell is regarding me with loathing in her eyes.