‘See that? Like everything else on Mars, it can wrap itself up when the weather is bad. A real survivor type.’ The shopkeeper started to mention another of its survival characteristics, then decided it had no bearing on the transaction. ‘How about it? I’ll make you a good price.’
Castor decided that Lowell would love it — and besides, it was a legitimate business expense, chargeable to good will. ‘How much?’
Angelo hesitated, trying to estimate what the traffic would bear, since a flat cat on Mars had roughly the cash value of still another kitten on a Missouri farm. Still, the boys must be rich or they wouldn’t be here — just in and with spending money burning holes in their pockets, no doubt. Business had been terrible lately anyhow. ‘A pound and a half,’ he said firmly.
Castor was surprised at how reasonable the price was. ‘That seems like quite a lot,’ he said automatically.
Angelo shrugged. ‘It likes you. Suppose we say a pound?’ Castor was again surprised, this time at the speed and the size of the mark-down. ‘I don’t know,’ he murmured.
“Well… ten per cent off for cash.’
Out of the corner of his eye Castor could see that Pollux had finished inspecting the rack of bicycles and was coming back. He decided to clear the decks and establish that good will, if possible, before Pol got down to business. ‘Done.’ He fished out a pound note, received his change, and picked up the flat cat ‘Come to papa, Fuzzy Britches.’ Fuzzy Britches came to papa, snuggled up and purred.
Pollux came back, stared at the junior Martian. ‘What in the world?’
‘Meet the newest member of the family. We just bought a flat cat’
‘We?’ Pollux started to protest that it was no folly of his, but caught the warning in Castor’s eye in time. ‘Uh, Mr. Angelo, I don’t see any prices marked?’
The shopkeeper nodded. ‘That’s right The sand rats like to haggle and we accommodate them. It comes to the same thing in the long run. We always settle at list: they know it and we know it, but it’s part of their social life. A prospector doesn’t get much.’
‘That Raleigh Special over there — what’s the list on it?’ Pollux had picked it because it looked very much like the sand-cycle their father had delivered for them to Captain Vandenbergh when he had gone into quarantine.
‘You want to buy that bike?’
Castor shook his head a sixteenth of an inch; Pollux answered, ‘Well, no, I was just pricing it. I couldn’t take it Sunside, you know.’
‘Well, seeing that there are no regular customers around, I’ll tell you. List is three hundred and seventy-five — and a bargain!’
‘Whew! That seems high.’
‘A bargain. She’s a real beauty. Try any of the other dealers.’
‘Mr. Angelo,’ Castor said carefully, ‘suppose I offered to sell you one just like it, not new but reconditioned as good as new and looking new, for just half that?’
‘Eh? I’d probably say you were crazy’
‘I mean it I’ve got it to sell. You might as well have the benefit of the low price as one of your competitors, I’m not going to offer it retail; this is for dealers.’
‘Mmm… you didn’t come in here to buy souvenirs, did you?’
‘No, sir.’
‘If you had come to me with that proposition four months ago, and could have backed it up, I’d have jumped at it. Now… well, no.’
‘Why not? it’s a good bike I’m offering you. A real bargain.’
‘I’m not disputing it’ He reached out and stroked the flat cat ‘Shucks, it can’t hurt anything to tell you why. Come along.’
He led them into the rear, past shelves crammed with merchandise, and on out behind the store. He waved a hand at stacks of merchandise that looked all too familiar. ‘See that? Second-hand bikes. That shed back there is stuffed with ’em; that’s why I’ve got these stored in the open.’
Castor tried to keep surprise and dismay out of his voice. ‘So you’ve got second-hand bikes,’ he said, ‘all beat-up and sand pitted. I’ve got second-hand bikes that look like new and will wear like new — and I can sell them cheaper than you can sell these, a lot cheaper. Don’t you want to bid on them, at least?’