That cash business got his attention. Sam considered that he might do better were he to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak. “What do you think she offered?” he temporized.
“Ah will give you sixty thousand. Ah doesn’t think she values them at more than that.”
Sam was disappointed in the size of the offer. Such a small amount left him in a terrible hole. Apparently these stupid gardening and decorating magazines weren’t even going to bring scrap prices! Why, oh why had he ever listened to Brill’s stupid scheme?
The bean pod squirmed. “All right, I might value them at eighty, but not a glizzinta more!”
As Sam was wondering what a glizzinta was Town walked in. Sam noticed that she was dragging two of her legs behind her, and one of the remaining three didn’t look terribly flexible. Apparently the adolescent change progressed rather speedily among the Crumptonians. There was another thing about her appearance that was immediately noticeable; she was wearing an orange spot, very much like her father’s, only smaller.
“Where have you been, Town? I’ve been worried sick about you. Your sister has been looking everywhere for you.”
“Please to call me Townrrr, Shammm,” Town replied and flipped a tentacle toward her orange pimple. Sam noticed the difficulty she had in pronouncing his name. Apparently these changes were hardening her air hole as well.
Before Sam could say anything more, Townrrr, nee Town, dragged her legs past him and the tall bean pod and entered her father’s office. Sam couldn’t understand the mumbled exchange between the two, but, if he was any judge of alien behavior, Mardnnn was highly upset over the changes in his daughter.
“Shammm,” Mardnnn shouted, but Sam was already on his way.
“Shammm didn’t give me any money,” Townrrr protested before Sam could get a word out. “I sold Brill’s supplies to finance the marriage.”
“Sold what?” Sam asked incredulously. “You did what?”
Townrrr turned to Sam and said, very slowly, “I sold those boxes that Brill had in the office and used some of the money to pay for my marriage. When you wouldn’t help me I just had to use whatever resources were available. Oh, I didn’t tell you; I have ten thousand left over that you and Brill can have,” she/he added apologetically.
Sam suddenly realized why the Ligonian had left so suddenly—he’d already gotten what he needed from Town, er, Townrrr. But, he realized, that meant that even the thirty thousand they needed for the second buyer was now beyond his reach. He doubted that the ten thousand balance from Townrrr’s sale would assuage Mardnnn much when he found out an entire million was missing.
The door flew open and Ahbbbb, the Peq rushed in, swathes of fabric billowing behind. “HMMMMMM…” she began shouting as her translator stuttered out some fluttering Crump-tonian, a rustling that must be the bean pod’s native tongue, and nearly understandable English. “Attempting to cheat me of goods. I will not hear it. I offer more than this kkkhmmmkk!”The last word was apparently untranslatable in the human language, but, from the way the bean pod reacted, it must have been a most apt insult.
“You fleem**ing Peq-head,” the vegetable screamed about forty decibels above Sam’s pain threshold. “You cannot have them!”
Hmmmmmh. Hmm mmmmhmm hmhmm. “Upstart satellite races that suck dirt have no use for these. Stand aside.”
“You will see that Ah value these higher than you!”
“MmmmmmmmmhMMMMM… I doubt it, you squirmy little…”
“What the hell is this?” Mardnnn growled.
“These were offered to Ah first,” the bean pod insisted as it leaned over the irate Peq. “They are mine!”
“You greedy little pervert,”Ahbbbb hummed angrily. “You just want to get your dirty little suckers on this lode so we can’t have them.”
The bean pod stood upright. “And Ah supposes you want them only for their artistic value? Ha! You want to sell these to your stupid fenestraphiles, Ah guesses.”
Sam momentarily wondered what a fenestraphile might be—or do? The remark obviously cut deeply, for the Peq rocked back and hummed something the translator couldn’t handle. To Sam they sounded like bitter, discordant hymns.
Instead of continuing to argue with the bean pod, the Pequodista turned to Sam. “I value these precious treasures at sixty-five thousand.” She turned to face the bean pod. “Adsorb that, you bower-masher!”
“I valued them at eighty-five!” the bean pod snapped back.
Ahbbbb looked disturbed by the response. “I cannot value them at that much,” she hummed angrily and turned to address Sam. “You should not allow a single copy is to go to this… this… deviant, no matter how much it pays!”
“Who are you calling a deviant, you blow-faced fertilizer maker! I know what you want them for and it isn’t clean dirt at all!”
“I am sure that we can settle this amicably,” Sam suggested as he stepped between the two aliens. “Why don’t we just take a moment to calm down and discuss this in a reasonable manner.”
The telephone rang just at that moment and Townrrr answered. There was a brief exchange and then she hung up. “Someone has offered a million and a half Earth dollars for the collection.”
“A million and a half dollars?” Sam couldn’t believe his ears. He was saved. Good old Brill had found a buyer and pulled their proverbial coals out of the fire. He let out a sigh of relief. “I guess that closes the auction,” he remarked. “Unless one of you thinks that they want to up the offer?” Fat chance of that, he thought.
“What is this auction thing?” the bean pod queried.
“You have heard how much we value these,” the Peq countered. “What need is there to say more?”
Sam felt that he was in wonderland. “You mean to say that neither of you have ever heard about auction bidding?” When they both indicated the negative Sam proceeded to explain.
“Now, all you have to do is up the bid until one of you decides to stop. At that point the highest bidder takes the goods.”
“HmmmmHhmm. A very strange process, hardly suitable for trade, I would think.”
“Ah sees a compost of ideas should this catch on. You Earth types have some weird ideas, but Ah is willing to try. Ah says eighty-five thousand.”
“No, no,” Sam protested. “The bid is a million and a half. You must bid more than that—understand?”
As Sam was waiting for the answer, Brill bounced in. “When I saw that both of the buyers were here I called in the million and a half dollar offer,” she whispered. “Don’t worry, I disguised my voice!”
“What are we going to do when they find out they’ve been cheated? Did you think of that?” Sam whispered back, wondering how many centuries fraud would add to the theft sentence.
Brill went through four color changes. “I hadn’t thought of that. Oh my, friend Sam. You are really in trouble now!”
Sam looked about for something large and heavy that he could use to crush Brill to a pulp. Murder wouldn’t add that many more years to his sentence, he was sure. How could a poor human manage to get cross-wise with not one, not two, but five alien races in two days? He looked longingly at the window and wondered just how thick the glass was. Maybe a running leap would…
“Ah won’t go higher than one hundred,” the bean pod finally said.
“Ninety-five thousand and that is my final offer,” the Peq hummed insistently.
“Things are going extremely well, don’t you think?” Brill remarked. “I think we ought to accept that last bid.” Before Sam could respond she slithered beside her father and started to say something.