* * * * * The Everking, who had been holding Andy's translator to his ear in silence, burst into speech. "His Foreverness says," Blahrog remarked cannily, "that it appears impossible for Felix II to join the Federation." "We aren't through yet," Andy said quickly. "What about the tourist industry? If you'd allow visitors and advertise a little...." "No," the Everking shouted, in Galactic. "We tried that during the last reign," Blahrog said. "It didn't work." "You're pretty far off the shipping lanes, I'll admit," Andy said, "but surely you could attract enough tourists from somewhere to show a profit." "We showed a profit," Blahrog said morosely. He translated a remark of the Everking's. "We made money hand over fist." "Then why did you quit?" Andy was baffled. "Why did you restrict the planet?" "Because of the way we happen to look." "Like leprechauns," Miss Featherpenny explained. "And Hrom looks exactly like a little Christmas fairy." Blahrog winced. "The tourists found us amusing. We weren't real to them. It became difficult for us to seem real to ourselves. Most of my generation couldn't grow up. The birth rate dropped. We closed the planet to keep the race alive. That's all there is to it." "Surely," Andy protested, "if you handled it differently...." "Tourists," Blahrog translated for the Everking, "are out of the question." "I remember hearing about an intelligent life form that resembled teddy bears," Miss Featherpenny said thoughtfully. "Everybody loved them on sight." "What happened to them?" Blahrog asked with interest. "They became extinct." * * * * * Andy glared at her. How could he accomplish anything with a stupid steno butting in? She looked away, guilty. "It's such a simple solution," he said. "It fits your situation perfectly." "That's what we thought, until we tried it," Blahrog said, grinning sidelong at Miss Featherpenny. "If you won't try tourists," Andy snapped at both of them, "I don't see exactly what you can do." "Maybe you didn't cover everything in the special abilities list," Miss Featherpenny suggested softly. Andy glared at her again. "All right, Blahrog. Can you think of anything you can do that most other species can't?" Blahrog looked at the floor and considered. "We can walk a long way without getting tired," he offered. Andy sighed, and wrote "Endurance?" on his scratch pad. It was scarcely saleable. "Is there anything else? Anything you know how to make? Besides Throatduster." "We make good shoes," Blahrog said hopefully. "The tourists used to buy lots of them." "Hum," Andy cogitated. "Here we have something for which a market already exists. If we can expand the market and the production facilities...." He nailed Blahrog with a finger, in conscious imitation of Crumbly. "How many pairs of shoes can Felix II produce in a single season?"