Oh Mesmerist from Mimas! By ROGER DEE _This gloriously gay smiley character; this astounding peace-pervading creature from Saturn's inner moon, was radiating like a space beacon in a meteor shower when it landed on Mars ... it was madness ... gargantuan madness._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The Cargo Declarations mart at Areopolis spaceport was humming busily when I walked in. A moment later it was as quiet as a church and twice as attentive. The sudden hush that fell wasn't out of deference to me, though I'm pretty well known through the odd corners of the Solar System, but because of the Mimasan smiley I carried in a ten-inch tungsten wire cage under my arm. Nothing this side of Saturn's inner moon can lay down the euphoric aura of peace and brotherhood that a smiley can, and this one was doing a noble job of it. He was one of the first two ever to hit Mars, young and healthy and still unmated, and he was radiating like a space beacon in a meteor shower. "Hey, it's Blaster Bill Bailey," I heard a trader--an Earthside homo by the sound of him--say. "What's the beautiful little item you brought back this time, Bill?" They crowded around me, Earthies and Eetees--Extraterrestrials--alike, all trying to get closer to that lovely peace-be-on-you euphoria. I looked them over carefully, counting the house and estimating their probable bids, and for the hundredth time it struck me that the place was more like a zoo than a mart for serious business. Cargo Declarations is a regular Mecca for Eetee traders from the outlands. I saw both kinds of Martians, the cat-whiskered, man-like, yellow city dwellers and their wilder, little, brown baboon-faced cousins from the red upland deserts; pink-and-white Venusians glistening like four-foot snails under the celloplast sheaths that kept them from dehydrating in the dry Martian air; Callistans teetering like scaly green sawhorses on their four stiff-jointed legs and walking stick tails; wooly blue tree men from Titan and ponderous Europans rolling on the little three-wheeled carts they used to carry their barrel-bellied tonnage. "It's a smiley," I told them, holding the cage up so they could admire the soulful little brute. "From Mimas, Saturn's first moon. His name is Joey and he is very much for sale."