"Average IQ in the 120's--and there's something for us to keep in mind in spite of our big technological and scientific jump on them. They're still working with wood, iron and crude steel, but they won't be for long. Agrarian civilization so far; they've got a representative type of government--democracy, and a damn good one, and they're psychologically suited for just what they've evolved along that line. They actually practice what they preach, from the individual status right on up through the framework of their government. Open, honest, sincere--they have to be, because of the high degree of uniformity of IQ, and because--now get this--they _want_ to be. It's the way their minds are built, and--" "All right, so if I believe you, we won't be fighting to get what we want. They're willing to meet our terms, that it?" "Yes, Skipper. Access to all scientific data with which we can supply them now, and as much more later as they think they'll require, in exchange for reasonable mining rights." "_Reasonable?_" Joel thundered. He slammed the heavy bottle down on the old-fashioned mahogany desk at his elbow. "Was _that_ in the contract you made with them? How do you know what the hell they mean by reasonable?" "Sir, if I may--" "All right, Dobermann, go ahead and enlighten me." "I worked a number of hours with them on that point, to make certain there would be no errors in the semantics involved. They have learned, despite their lack of scientific medical knowledge, that as long as there is mneurium-4 around, they don't get sick. They trust us to leave enough to insure their own well-being." "That's crazy," Joel shot back at his first officer. "How in God's name can they know about mneurium-4 and how to use it when we've only known about it and have been scratching the universe for it for less than thirty years? That's goddam nonsense--" He refilled the flagon, spilled a little of the potent liquor on his beard as he downed it. "No, Nicholas," Sam said. "You're the bug on history around here. Think a minute." Joel drew a sleeve across his mouth, and pages flipped in his head again. Yes, Sam was right. Back as far as the twentieth century, there had been isolated tribes in South America which had been found free of the diseases that had plagued their more civilized neighbors of the north, and it had taken the medical experts years to find out exactly why. Invariably, the answer had been usage of the most promising materials provided by nature which were closest at hand. A tribe stumbled onto something, used it--experimentally at first, then wastefully, but finally, with a thousand years' practice, pretty efficiently. And it had nothing to do with the fact that they still went around with spears and animal-hide shields....