The sergeant stopped the small company about a quarter of a mile from the city of Bari. His detachment numbered only ten but they were well armed with short swords and blunderbusses and wore mail and steel helmets. On the face of it, they would have been a match for ten times this number of merchants.

It was hardly noon but the sergeant had obviously already been at his wine flask. He leered at them. “And where do you think you go?”

The merchant who led the rest was a thin little man but he was richly robed and astride a heavy black mare. He said, “To Bari, soldier.” He drew a paper from a pouch. “I hold this permission from Baron Mannerheim to pass through his lands with my people and chattels.”

The leer turned mercenary. “Unfortunately, city man, I can’t read. What do you carry on the mules?”

“Personal property, which, I repeat, I have permission to transport over Baron Mannerheim’s lands free from harassment from his followers.” He added, in irritation, “The baron is a friend of mine, fond of the gifts I give him.”

One of the soldiers grunted his skepticism, checked the flint on the lock of his piece, then looked at the sergeant suggestively.

The sergeant said, “As you say, merchant, my lord the baron is fond of gifts. Aren’t we all? Unfortunately, I have received no word of your group. My instructions are to stop all intruders upon the baron’s lands and, if there is resistance, to slay them and confiscate such properties as they may be carrying.”

The merchant sighed and reached into a small pouch. The eyes of the sergeant drooped in greed. The hand emerged with two small coins. “As you say,” the merchant muttered bitterly, “we are all fond of gifts. Will you do me the honor to drink my health at the tavern tonight?”

The sergeant said nothing, but his mouth slackened and he fondled the hilt of his sword.

The merchant sighed again and dipped once more into the pouch. This time his hand emerged with half a dozen bits of silver. He handed them down to the other, complaining, “How can a man profit in his affairs if every few miles he must pass another outstretched hand?”

The sergeant growled, “You do not seem to starve, city man. Now, on your way. You are fortunate I am too lazy today to bother going through your things. Besides,” and he grinned widely, “the baron gave me personal instructions not to bother you.”

The merchant snorted, kicked his heels into his beast’s sides and led his half dozen followers toward the city. The soldiers looked after them and howled their amusement. The money was enough to keep them soused for days.

When they were out of earshot, Amschel Mayer grinned his amusement back over his shoulder at Jerome Kennedy. “How’d that come off, Jerry?”

The other sniffed, in mock deprecation. “You’re beginning to fit into the local merchant pattern better than the real thing. However, just for the record, I had this, ah, grease gun, trained on them all the time.”

Mayer frowned. “Only in extreme emergency, my dear Jerry. The baron would be up in arms if he found a dozen of his men massacred on the outskirts of Bari, and we don’t want a showdown at this stage. It’s taken nearly a year to build this part we act.”

At this time of day the gates of the port city were open and the guards lounged idly. Their captain recognized Amschel Mayer and did no more than nod respectfully.

They wended their way through narrow, cobblestoned streets, avoiding the crowds in the central market area. They pulled up eventually before a house both larger and more ornate than its neighbors. Mayer and Kennedy dismounted from the horses and left their care to the others.

Mayer beat with the heavy knocker on the door and a slot opened for a quick check of his identity. The door opened wide and Technician Martin Gunther let them in.

“The others are here already?” Mayer asked him.

Gunther nodded. “Since breakfast. Baron Leonar, in particular, is impatient.”

Mayer said over his shoulder, “All right, Jerry, this is where we put it to them.”

They entered the long conference room. A full score of men sat about the heavy wooden table. Most of them were as richly garbed as their host. Most of them in their middle years. All of them alert of eye. All of them confidently at ease.

Amschel Mayer took his place at the table’s end and Jerome Kennedy sank into the chair next to him. Mayer took the time to speak to each of his guests individually, then he leaned back and took in the gathering as a whole. He said, “You probably realize that this group consists of the twenty most powerful merchants on the continent.”

Olderman nodded. “We have been discussing your purpose in bringing us together, Honorable Mayer. All of us are not friends.” He twisted his face in amusement. “In fact, very few of us are friends.”

“There is no need for you to be,” Mayer said snappishly, “but all are going to realize the need for co-operation. Honorables, I’ve just come from the city of Ronda. Although I’d paid heavily in advance to the three barons whose lands I crossed. I had to bribe myself through a dozen road-blocks, had to pay exorbitant rates to cross three ferries, and once had to fight off supposed bandits.”

One of his guests grumbled, “Who were actually probably soldiers of the local baron who had decided that although you had paid him transit fee, it still might be profitable to go through your goods.”

Mayer nodded. “Exactly, my dear Honorable, and that is why we’ve gathered.”

Olderman had evidently assumed spokesmanship for the others. Now he said warily, “I don’t understand.”

“Genoa, if you’ll pardon the use of this name to signify the planet upon which we reside, will never advance until trade has been freed from these bandits who call themselves lords and barons.”

Eyebrows reached for hairlines.

Olderman’s eyes darted about the room, went to the doors. “Please,” he said, “the servants.”

“My servants are safe,” Mayer said.

One of his guests was smiling without humor. “You seem to forget, Honorable Mayer, that I carry the title of baron.”

Mayer shook his head. “No, Baron Leonar. But neither do you disagree with what I say. The businessman, the merchant, the manufacturer on Genoa today, is only tolerated. Were it not for the fact that the barons have no desire to eliminate such a profitable source of income, they would milk us dry overnight.”

Someone shrugged. “That is the way of things. We are lucky to have wrested, bribed and begged as many favors from the lords as we have. Our twenty cities all have charters that protect us from complete despoilation.”

Mayer twisted excitedly in his chair. “As of today, things begin to change. Jerry, that platen press.”

Jerry Kennedy left the room momentarily and returned with Martin Gunther and two of the servants. While the assembled merchants looked on, in puzzled silence, Mayer’s assistants set up the press and a stand holding two fonts of fourteen-point type. Jerry took up a printer’s stick and gave running instructions as he demonstrated. Gunther handed around pieces of the type until all had examined it, while his colleague set up several lines. Kennedy transposed the lines to a chase, locked it up and placed the form to one side while he demonstrated inking the small press, which was operated by a foot pedal. He mounted the form in the press, took a score of sheets of paper and rapidly fed them, one by one. When they were all printed, he stopped pumping and Gunther handed the still wet finished product around to the audience.

Olderman stared down at the printed lines, scowled in concentration, wet his lips in sudden comprehension.

But it was merchant Russ who blurted, “This will revolutionize the inscribing of books. Why, it can well take it out of the hands of the Temple! With such a machine I could make a hundred books

Mayer was beaming. “Not a hundred, Honorable, but a hundred thousand!”

The others stared at him as though he was demented. “A hundred thousand,” one said. “There are not that many literate persons on the continent.”

“There will be,” Mayer crowed. “This is but one of our levers to pry power from the barons. And here is another.” He turned to Russ. “Honorable Russ, your city is noted for the fine quality of its steel, of the swords and armor you produce.”

Russ nodded. He was a small man fantastically rich in his attire. “This is true, Honorable Mayer.”

Mayer said, tossing a small booklet to the other, “I have here the plans for a new method of making steel from pig iron. The Bessemer method, we’ll call it. The principle involved is the oxidation of the impurities in the iron by blowing air through the molten metal.”

Amschel Mayer turned to still another. “And your town is particularly noted for its fine textiles.” He looked to his assistants. “Jerry, you and Gunther bring in those models of the power loom and the spinning jenny.”

While they were gone, he said, “My intention is to assist you to speed up production. With this in mind, you’ll appreciate the automatic flying shuttle that we’ll now demonstrate.”

Kennedy and Gunther re-entered accompanied by four servants and a mass of equipment. Kennedy muttered to Amschel Mayer, “I feel like the instructor of a handicrafts class.”

Half an hour later, Kennedy and Gunther wound up passing out pamphlets to the awed merchant guests. Kennedy said, “This booklet will give details on construction of the equipment and its operation.”

Mayer pursed his lips. “Your people will be able to assimilate only so fast, so we won’t push them. Later, you’ll be interested in introducing the mule spinning frame, among other items.”

He motioned for the servants to remove the printing press and textile machinery. “We now come to probably the most important of the devices I have to introduce to you today. Because of size and weight, I’ve had constructed only a model. Jerry!”

Jerry Kennedy brought to the heavy table a small steam engine, clever in its simplicity. He had half a dozen attachments for it. Within moments he had the others around him, as enthusiastic as a group of youngsters with a new toy.

“By the Supreme,” Baron Leonar blurted, “do you realize this device could be used instead of waterpower to operate a mill to power the loom demonstrated an hour ago?”

Honorable Russ was rubbing the side of his face thoughtfully. “It might even be adapted to propel a coach. A coach without horses. Unbelievable!”

Mayer chuckled in excitement and clapped his hands. A servant entered with a toy wagon which had been slightly altered. Martin Gunther lifted the small engine, placed it in position atop the wagon, connected it quickly and threw a lever. The wagon moved smoothly forward, the first engine-propelled vehicle of Genoa’s industrial revolution.

Martin Gunther smiled widely at Russ. “You mean like this, Honorable?”

Half an hour later they were re-seated, before each of them a small pile of pamphlets, instructions, plans, blueprints.

Mayer said, “I have just one more device to bring to your attention at this time. I wish it were unnecessary but I am afraid otherwise.”

He held up for their inspection, a forty-five-caliber bullet. Jerry Kennedy handed around samples to the merchants. They fingered them in puzzlement.

“Honorables,” Mayer said, “the barons have the use of gunpowder. Muskets and muzzleloading cannon are available to them both for their wars against each other and their occasional attacks upon our supposedly independent cities. However, this is an advancement on their weapons. This unit includes not only the bullet’s lead, but the powder and the cap which will explode it.”

They lacked understanding, and showed it.

Mayer said, “Jerry, if you’ll demonstrate.”

Jerry Kennedy said, “The bullet can be adapted to various weapons, however, this is one of the simplest.” He pressed, one after another, a full twenty rounds into the gun’s clip.

“Now, if you’ll note the silhouette of a man I’ve drawn on the wooden frame at the end of the room.” He pressed the trigger, sent a single shot into the figure.

Olderman nodded. “An improvement in firearms. But

Kennedy said, “However, if you are confronted with more than one of the bad guys.” He grinned and flicked the gun to full automatic and in a Götterdämmerung of sound in the confines of the room, emptied the clip into his target sending splinters and chips flying and all but demolishing the wooden backdrop.

His audience sat back in stunned horror at the demonstration.

Mayer said now, “The weapon is simple to construct, any competent gunsmith can do it. It is manifest, Honorables, that with your people so equipped your cities will be safe from attack and so will trading caravans and ships.”

Russ said shakily, “Your intention is good, Honorable Mayer, however it will be but a matter of time before the barons have solved the secrets of your weapon. Such cannot be held indefinitely. Then we would again be at their mercy.”

“Believe me, Honorable,” Mayer said dryly, “by that time I will have new weapons to introduce, if necessary. Weapons that make this one a very toy in comparison.”

Olderman resumed his office as spokesman. “This demonstration has astounded us, Honorable Mayer, but although we admire your abilities it need hardly be pointed out that it seems unlikely all this could be the product of one brain.”

“They are not mine,” Mayer admitted. “They are the products of many minds.”

“But where?”

The Earthman shook his head. “I don’t believe I will tell you now.”

“I see.” The Genoese eyed him emotionlessly. “Then the question becomes, why?”

Mayer said, “It may be difficult for you to see, but the introduction of each of these will be a nail in feudalism’s coffin. Each will increase either production or trade and such increase will lead to the overthrow of feudal society.”

Baron Leonar, who had remained largely silent throughout the afternoon, now spoke up. “As you said earlier, although I am a lord myself, my interests are your own. I am a merchant first. However, I am not sure I want the changes these devices will bring. Frankly, Honorable Mayer, I am satisfied with my world as I find it today.”

Amschel Mayer smiled wryly at him. “I am afraid you must adapt to these new developments.”

The baron said coldly, “Why? I do not like to be told I must do something.”

“Because, my dear baron, there are three continents on the planet of Genoa. At present there is little trade due to inadequate shipping. But the steam engine I introduce today will soon propel larger craft than you have ever built before.”

Russ said, “What has this to do with our being forced to use these devices?”

“Because I have colleagues on the other continents busily introducing them. If you don’t adapt, in time competitors will invade your markets, capture your trade, drive you out of business.”

Mayer wrapped it up. “Honorables, modernize or go under. It’s each man for himself and the devil take the hindmost, if you’ll allow a saying from another era.”

They remained silent for a long period. Finally Olderman stated bluntly, “The barons are not going to like this.”

Jerry Kennedy grinned. “Obviously, that’s why we’ve introduced you to the tommy gun. It’s not going to make any difference if they like it or not.”

Russ said musingly, “Pressure will be put to prevent the introduction of this equipment.”

“We’ll meet it,” Mayer said, shifting happily in his seat.

Russ added, “The Temple is ever on the side of the barons. The monks will fight against innovations that threaten to disturb the present way.”

Mayer said, “Monks usually do. How much property is in the hands of the Temple?”

Russ admitted sourly, “The monks are the greatest landlords of all. I would say at least one third of the land and the serfs belong to the Temple.”

“Ah,” Mayer said. “We must investigate the possibilities of a Reformation. But that can come later. Now I wish to expand on my reason for gathering you.

“Honorables, Genoa is to change rapidly. To survive, you will have to move fast. I have not introduced these revolutionary changes without self-interest. Each of you are free to use them to his profit, however, I expect a thirty per cent interest.”

There was a universal gasp.

Olderman said, “Honorable Mayer, you have already demonstrated your devices. What is there to prevent us from playing you false?”

Mayer laughed. “My dear Olderman, I have other inventions to reveal as rapidly as you develop the technicians, the workers, capable of building and operating them. If you cheat me now, you will be passed by next time.”

Russ muttered, “Thirty per cent! Your wealth will be unbelievable.”

“As fast as it accumulates, Honorables, it shall be invested. For instance, I have great interest in expanding our inadequate universities. The advances I expect will only be possible if we educate the people. Field serfs are not capable of running even that simple steam engine Jerry demonstrated.”

Baron Leonar said, “What you contemplate is mind-shaking. Do I understand that you wish a confederation of all our cities? A joining together to combat the strength of the present lords?”

Mayer was shaking his head. “No, no. As the barons lose power, each of your cities will strengthen and possibly expand to become nations. Perhaps some will unite. But largely you will compete against each other and against the nations of the other continents. In such competition you’ll have to show your mettle, or go under. Man develops at his fastest when pushed by such circumstance.”

The Earthling looked off, unseeing, into a far corner of the room. “At least, so is my contention. Far away from here a colleague is trying to prove me wrong. We shall see.”