Sometimes they varied it by having Meade sing. She was not of concert standards, but she had a warm, intimate contralto. After hearing her, a man possessing not even a flat cat felt lonely indeed. She pulled even better than the slick professional recordings; the twins found it necessary to cut her in for a percentage.
But in the main they depended on the flat cats themselves. The boomers from Mars, almost to a man, bought flat cats as soon as they heard that they were available, and each became an unpaid travelling salesman for the enterprise. Hardrock men from Luna, or directly from Earth, who had never seen a flat cat, now had opportunities to see them, pet them, listen to their hypnotic purr - and were lost. The little things not only stirred to aching suppressed loneliness, but, having stimulated it, gave it an outlet.
Castor would hold Fuzzy Britches to the mike and coo, "Here is a little darling - Molly Malone. Sing for the boys, honey pet." While he stroked Fuzzy Britches Pollux would step up the power. "No, we can't let Molly go - she's a member of the family. But here is Bright Eyes. We'd like to keep Bright Eyes, too, but we mustn't be selfish. Say hello to the folks, Bright Eyes." Again he would stroke Fuzzy Britches. "Mr. P., now hand me Velvet."
The stock of flat cats in deep freeze steadily melted. Their stock of high grade grew.
Roger Stone received their suggestion that they save out a few for breeding stock with one of his more emphatic refusals; once, he declaimed, was enough to be swamped in flat cats. Fuzzy Britches could stay, safely on short rations - but one was enough.
They had reached the last few at the back of the hold and were thinking about going out of business when a tired-looking, grey-haired man showed up after their broadcast. There were several other customers; he hung back and let the twins sell flat cats to the others. He had with him a girl child, little older than Lowell. Castor had not seen him before but he guessed that he might be Mr. Erska; bachelors far out-numbered families in the node and families with children were very rare. The Erskas picked up a precarious living down orbit and north; they were seldom seen at City Hall. Mr. Erska spoke Basic with some difficulty; Mrs Erska spoke it not at all. The family used some one of the little lingos - Icelandic, it might have been.
When the other customers had left the Stone Castor put on his professional grin and introduced himself. Yes, it was Mr. Erska. "And what can I do for you today, sir? A flat cat?"
"I'm afraid not"
"How about a projector? With a dozen tapes thrown in? Just the thing for a family evening."
Mr. Erska seemed nervous. "Uh, very nice, I'm sure. No." He tugged at the little girl's hand. "We better go now, babykin."
"Don't rush off. My baby brother is around somewhere - or was. He'd like to meet your kid. Maybe he's wandered over into the store. I'll look for him"
"We better go."
"What's the rush? He can't be far."
Mr. Erska swallowed in embarrassment 'My little girl. She heard your program and she wanted to see a flat cat. Now she's seen one, so we go."
"Oh-" Castor brought himself face to face with the child. "Would you like to hold one, honey?" She did not answer, but nodded solemnly. "Mr. P.,. bring up the Duchess."
"Right, Mr. C." Pollux went aft and fetched the Duchess - the first flat cat that came to hand, of course. He came back, warming it against his belly to revive it quickly.
Castor took it and massaged it until it flattened out and opened its eyes. "Here, honeybunch. Don't be afraid"
Still silent, the child took it, cuddled it The small furry bundle sighed and began to purr. Castor turned to her father. "Don't you want to get it for her?"
The man turned red. "No, no!"
"Why not? They're no trouble. She'll love it. So will you."
"No!" He reached out and tried to take the flat cat from his daughter, speaking to her in another language.
She clung to it, replying in what was clearly the negative. Castor looked at them thoughtfully. "You would like to buy it for her, wouldn't you?"
The man looked away. "I can't buy it."
"But you want to." Castor glanced at Pollux. "Do you know what you are, Mr. Erska. You are the five hundredth customer of Flat Cat Alley."
"Uh?"
"Didn't you hear our grand offer? You must have missed one of our programs. The five hundredth flat cat is absolutely free."
The little girl looked puzzled but clung to the flat cat Her father looked doubtful. "You're fooling?"
Castor laughed. "Ask Mr. P."
Pollux nodded solemnly. "The bare truth, Mr. Erska. It's a celebration of a successful season. One flat cat, absolutely free with the compliments of the management And with it goes either one pin-up, or two candy bars - your choice."
Mr. Erska seemed only half convinced, but they left with the child clinging to 'Duchess' and the candy bars. When the door was closed behind them Castor said fretfully, "You didn't need to chuck in the candy bars They were the last; I didn't mean us to sell them"
"Well, we didn't sell them; we gave 'em away."
Castor grinned and shrugged. "Okay, I hope they don't make her sick. What was her name?"
"I didn't get it."
"No matter. Our Mrs Fries will know." He turned around, saw Hazel behind them in the hatch. "What are you grinning about?"
"Nothing, nothing. I just enjoy seeing a couple of cold-cash businessmen at work."
"Money isn't everything!"
"Besides," added Pollux, "it's good advertising."
"Advertising? With your stock practically gone?" She snickered. "There wasn't any "grand offer" - and I'll give you six to one it wasn't your five hundredth sale."
Castor looked embarrassed. "Aw, she wanted it! What would you have done?"
Hazel moved up to them, put an arm around the neck of each. "My boys! I'm beginning to think you may grow up yet. In thirty, forty, fifty more years you may be ready to join the human race."
"Aw, lay off it!"
XVIII - THE WORM IN THE MUD
Cost-accounting on the flat-cat deal turned out to be complicated. The creatures were all descendants of Fuzzy Britches, chattel of Lowell. But the increase was directly attributable to food fed to them by everyone - which in turn had forced them to eat most of the luxury foods stocked by the twins for trade. But it had been the twins' imaginative initiative which had turned a liability into an asset. On the other hand they had used freely the capital goods (ship and electronic equipment) belonging to the entire family. But how to figure the probable worth of the consumed luxury foods? Whatever the figure was, it was not just original cost plus lift fuel.