"I must have arrived more quickly than you anticipated," said Fader. He stepped forward and nudged Homer. "You sly young dog."

"It's not what you think, C. J.," said Homer.

"I haven't said a word about what I thought," said Fader. "What I want to know is where you found her."

"I didn't—"

"I'm from another planet," said Qalith.

"I'll say you are, baby," said Fader, chucking her under the chin. "You know, Homer here had me fooled. But I can see he's not as namby pamby as I thought. Yes, sir! He's quite a boy."

"He's been explaining all of the manners and customs of the earth to me," said Qalith.

"And I'll bet he knows how!" said Fader.

"It's really the truth," said Homer. "Qalith is from the Pleiades."

"Oh yes! Near Cincinnati! Well I always heard those Cincy girls were pretty cute. Playing at the Roxy?"

Homer shuddered. "She's left her spaceship on the Cambridge Manor golf links," he said.

Mr. Fader roared. "Homer, you're a man after my own heart! I'll tell you what, boy. You come into my organization and I'll make you a vice president with a big chunk of stock. You can have charge of research and if you can line up the babes for our conventions we'll put the whole dammed paint trade in our pocket inside of two years! After all, boy, it's girls and salesmen, not the quality of your product that win on today's market!"

Slowly the idea sank into Homer's brain. Mr. Fader hadn't wanted to hire him because he was anything special as a chemist.

"How much will I get?" Homer asked bluntly.

"The stock ought to be worth twelve thousand a year," said Fader. "On top of that you'll get twenty-five thousand as vice president in charge of research and conventions."

And the ten thousand that Homer hoped to get had been cheap. Ten thousand for a chemist, twenty-five for a salesman, plus a bundle of stock. A high priced pimp.

"Are you sure I'll be worth it?"

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