'm studying. Probably be all I will know."

* * * * *

After dinner, he and Karl and Paul went into a huddle on what sort
of gifts to give the natives, and the advisability of trading with
them, and for what. Nothing too far in advance of their present
culture level. Wheels; they could be made in the fabricating shop
aboard the ship.

"You know, it's odd," Karl Dorver said. "These people here have
never seen a wheel, and, except in documentary or historical-drama
films, neither have a lot of Terrans."

That was true. As a means of transportation, the wheel had been
completely obsolete since the development of contragravity, six
centuries ago. Well, a lot of Terrans in the Year Zero had never
seen a suit of armor, or an harquebus, or even a tinder box or
a spinning wheel.

Wheelbarrows; now there was something they'd find useful. He
screened Max Milzer, in charge of the fabricating and repair shops
on the ship. Max had never even heard of a wheelbarrow.

"I can make them up, Mark; better send me some drawings, though.
Did you just invent it?"

"As far as I know, a man named Leonardo da Vinci invented it, in
the Sixth Century Pre-Atomic. How soon can you get me half a dozen
of them?"

"Well, let's see. Welded sheet metal, and pipe for the frame and
handles. I'll have some of them for you by noon tomorrow. Now, about
hoes; how tall are these people, and how long are their arms, and
how far can they stoop over?"

* * * * *

They were all up late, that night. So were the Svants; there was a
fire burning in the middle of the village, and watch-fires along the
edge of the mound. Luis Gofredo was just as distrustful of them as
they were of the Terrans; he kept the camp lighted, a strong guard
on the alert, and the area of darkness beyond infra red lighted and
covered by photoelectric sentries on the ground and snoopers in the
air. Like Paul Meillard, Luis Gofredo was a worrier and a pessimist.
Everything happened for the worst in this worst of all possible
galaxies, and if anything could conceivably go wrong, it infallibly
would. That was probably why he was still alive and had never had
a command massacred.

The wheelbarrows, four of them, came down from the ship by midmorning.
With them came a grindstone, a couple of crosscut saws, and a lot of
picks and shovels and axes, and cases of sheath knives and mess gear
and miscellaneous trade goods, includ