"You can't call me. Even if I could receive your call, which is very doubtful, I wouldn't answer it. If you ever see me or hear from me again, it will be because I wish it, not you." Skandos intended this for a clincher, but it didn't turn out that way. "Wonderful!" Tedric exclaimed. "All gods act that way, in spite of what they--through their priests--say. I am overwhelmingly glad that you are being honest with me. Hast found me worthy of the god-metal, Lord Llosir?" "Yes, so let's get at it. Take that biggest chunk of 'metal-which-fell-from-the-sky'--you'll find it's about twice your weight ..." "But I have never been able to work that particular piece of metal, Lord." "I'm not surprised. Ordinary meteorites are nickel-iron, but this one carries two additional and highly unusual elements, tungsten and vanadium, which are necessary for our purpose. To melt it you'll have to run your fires a lot hotter. You'll also have to have a carburizing pot and willow charcoal and metallurgical coke and several other things. We'll go into details later. That green stone from which altars are made--you can secure some of it?" "Any amount of it." "Of it take your full weight. And of the black ore of which you have occasionally used a little, one-fourth of your weight ..." The instructions went on, from ore to finished product in complete detail, and at its end: "If you follow these directions carefully you will have a high-alloy-steel--chrome-nickel-vanadium-molybdenum-tungsten steel, to be exact--case-hardened and heat-treated; exactly what you need. Can you remember them all?" "I can, Lord. Never have I dared write anything down, so my memory is good. Every quantity you have given me, every temperature and step and process and item; they are all completely in mind." "I go, then. Good-bye." "I thank you, Lord Llosir. Good-bye." The Lomarrian bowed his head, and when he straightened up his incomprehensible visitor was gone. Tedric went back to bed; and, strangely enough, was almost instantly asleep. And in the morning, after his customary huge breakfast of meat and bread and milk, he went to his sprawling establishment, which has no counterpart in modern industry, and called his foreman and his men together before they began the day's work. "A strange god named Llosir came to me in the night and showed me how to make better iron," he told them in perfectly matter-of-fact fashion, "so stop whatever you're doing and tear the whole top off of the big furnace. I'll tell you exactly how to rebuild it." The program as outlined by Skandos went along without a hitch until the heat from the rebuilt furnace began to come blisteringly through the crude shields. Then even the foreman, faithful as he was, protested against such unheard-of temperatures and techniques.