Where do you want to
go?"
"Anywhere," said Cochrane. "The scenery isn't dramatic enough here for a
new broadcast. We've got to have some lurid stuff for our next show.
Things are shaping up except for the need of just the right scenery to
send back to Earth."
"What kind of scenery do you want?"
"Animals preferred," said Cochrane. "Dinosaurs would do. Or buffalo or a
reasonable facsimile. What I'd actually like more than anything else
would really be a herd of buffalo."
Jamison gasped.
"Buffalo?"
"Meat," said Cochrane in an explanatory tone. "On the hoof. The
public-relations job all this has turned into, demands a careful
stimulation of all the basic urges. So I want people to think of steaks
and chops and roasts. If I could get herds of animals from one horizon
to another--."
"Meat-herds coming up," said Jones negligently. "I'll call you."
Cochrane did not believe him. He went down to the communicator again. He
prepared to take the calls from Earth that had been backed up behind the
emergency demand for an immediate broadcast-show that he'd met while the
ship came to its landing. There was an enormous amount of business piled
up.
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