Catching the light from the ship's beam and from the softer flares of the
Salariki torches was a small pile of stones resting on a stool to one
side. Dane drew a deep breath. He had heard the Koros stones described,
had seen the tri-dee print of one found among Cam's recordings but the
reality was beyond his expectations. He knew the technical analysis of
the gems--that they were, as the amber of Terra, the fossilized resin
exuded by ancient plants (maybe the ancestors of the grass trees) long
buried in the saline deposits of the shallow seas where chemical changes
had taken place to produce the wonder jewels. In color they shaded from a
rosy apricot to a rich mauve, but in their depths other colors, silver,
fiery gold, spun sparks which seemed to move as the gem was turned.
And--which was what first endeared them to the Salariki--when worn
against the skin and warmed by body heat they gave off a perfume which
enchanted not only the Sargolian natives but all in the Galaxy wealthy
enough to own one.
On another stool placed at Van Rycke's right hand, as that bearing the
Koros stones was at Paft's, was a transparent plastic box containing some
wrinkled brownish leaves.
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