_YOU'RE SO STUPID I DON'T KNOW WHY I BOTHER WITH YOU! STYLE? I COULD TELL YOU STORIES THAT WOULD CURL YOUR HAIR! THE LIBRARIES HERE ON RIGEL IV MAKE YOUR POE AND SHAKESPEARE LOOK LIKE OLD MAIDS!_ I sat back in my chair and got a crafty feeling. Before I knew it I said, "Prove it!" There was silence for a moment. The keys just remained dead. I reached forward and tapped the machine. _STOP THAT! I'M THINKING.... VERY WELL, EARTHMAN, I WILL PROVE IT!_ And he did. I sat there for the next half hour, feeding paper into the machine, and it kept me busy. That typewriter sounded like a burp gun with hiccoughs. Finally the typing ceased. The carriage clattered back and there was a final spurt of words. _WELL? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? READ IT!_ I read it. It made my hair curl. A story of galactic war--invasion on Rigel IV from a race a hundred light years in space. Havoc, suspense, adventure, all so utterly fantastic it seemed real. I was spellbound to the last line. I stared at the machine. _WELL?_ "--You sure this isn't another mimic job from Earth--" _ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR? YOU STUPID--_ "Ok, ok, I just wanted to make sure. It's pretty good--fantastic and all that, and a far cry from our Poe or Shakespeare, but--" _YOU ARE TRYING TO COMPARE YOUR PUNY WRITERS WITH OURS? THAT'S THE LAST INSULT! I'M SORRY I DECIDED TO PSI IN ON YOUR PLANET FOR MY VACATION GOODBY_-- "Wait!" I shouted the word. _WHY?_ "I--I'm sorry, I apologize. It's just that you caught me unprepared. Afterall, you must admit this is something of a shock--hearing from you God knows how many light years away...." _WELL, NOW. THAT'S BETTER. YOU RECOGNIZE YOUR SUPERIORS AFTERALL!_ This was no time for wounded pride. So I nodded. "You're right. We're incredibly backward--but we don't have to remain that way forever. Take your Rigel IV libraries, for example. I'll bet your stories could teach us a lot." _NATURALLY._ "And," I continued, gaining confidence now, "you said you were on vacation, absorbing some of our literature--puny as it is.... Have you had a taste of anything besides Poe and Shakespeare?" _NO. SHOULD I?_ "Should you? Why you've barely scraped our culture! Tell you what! Maybe we can make a deal--" _DEAL? WHAT'S THAT?_ "I mean, a trade. While you're on vacation I'll swap writers with you. I'll type a story, and you reciprocate with one from your library. Fair enough?" _WELL ... YOU'D BE GETTING THE BEST OF THE BARGAIN...._ I nodded humbly. "I realize that. But think of the good you'd be doing, teaching us barbarians the glorious wonders of your civilization...." That did it. The machine actually purred. _I'LL DO IT. PURELY AS A LARK, OF COURSE...._ "Fine. We'll begin next week." _NEXT WEEK? WHY THE DELAY?_ "I want to get in a good supply of stories," I said, and got up, picking up the Rigel IV manuscript. The machine was silent so I made a dash for the door. * * * * *