Another time he said, "Don't let it bother you about the boys not cottoning to you. They know you're an Earthman, see, and they don't know you're pretty good for an Earthman, like I do. Hennes is always poking about after me, or else Griswold is, to make sure I don't talk to them, or else they would have heard the facts from me. But they'll get wise."
But the process was taking time. For David, it remained the same: a farmboy and his platter; a dollop of mashed potatoes, a ladle of peas, and a small steak (animal food was much scarcer on Mars than plant food, since meat had to be imported from Earth). The farmboy then helped himself to a sliver of cake and a cup of coffee. Then another farmboy with another platter; another dollop of mashed potatoes, another ladle of peas, and so on. To them, it seemed, David Starr was just an Earthman with a ladle in one hand and a large-tined fork in the other. He wasn't even a face; just a ladle and a fork.
The cook stuck his head through the door, his little eyes peering piggily over the sagging pouches" beneath. '"Hey, Williams. Rattle your legs and get some food into the special mess."
Makian, Benson, Hennes, and any others who were considered especially worthy in point of view of position or of length of service dined in a room by themselves. They sat at tables and had the food brought to them. David had been through this before. He prepared special platters and brought them into the room on a wheeled service table.
He threaded his way quietly through the tables, beginning with the one at which Makian, Hennes, and two others sat. At Benson's table he lingered. Benson accepted his platter with a smile and a "How are you?" and proceeded to eat with relish. David, with an air of conscientiousness, brushed at invisible crumbs. His mouth managed to get itself close to Benson's ears and his lips scarcely moved as he said, "Anyone ever get poisoned here at the farm?"
Benson started at the sudden sound of words and looked quickly at David. As quickly he looked away, tried to appear indifferent. He shook his head in a sharp negative.
"The vegetables are Martian, aren't they?" murmured David.
A new voice sounded in the room. It was a rough yell from the other end of the room.
"By Space, you long Earth jackass, get a move on!"
It was Griswold, Ms face still stubbled. He must shave sometimes, David thought, since the stubble never grew longer, but no one ever seemed to see it shorter, either.
Griswold was at the last table to be visited. He was still mumbling, his anger boiling over.
His lips drew back. "Bring over that platter, dish-jockey. Faster. Faster."
David did so, but without hurry, and Griswold's hand, with the fork in it, jabbed quickly. David moved more quickly, and the fork clanged sharply against the hard plastic of the tray.
Balancing the tray in one hand, David caught Griswold's fist with the other. His grip grew tight. The other three at the table pushed back their chairs and rose.
David's voice, low, icy, and dead level, sounded just high enough to be heard by Griswold. "Drop it and ask for your ration decently, or you'll have it all at once."
Griswold writhed, but David maintained his hold. David's knee in the back of Griswold's chair prevented the farmboy from pushing away from the table.
"Ask nicely," said David. He smiled, deceptively gentle. "Like a man with breeding."
Griswold was panting harshly. The fork dropped from between his numbed fingers. He growled, "Let me have the tray."
"Is that all?"
"Please." He spat it out.
David lowered the tray and released the other's fist from which the blood had been crushed, leaving it white. Griswold massaged it with his other hand and reached for his fork. He looked about him, mad with fury, but there was only amusement or indifference in the eyes that met his. The farms on Mars were hard; each man had to care for himself.
Makian was standing. "Williams," he called.
David approached. "Sir?"
Makian made no direct reference to what had just occurred, but he stood there for a moment, looking carefully at David, as though he were seeing him for the first time and liked what he saw. He said, "Would you like to join the checkup tomorrow?"
"The checkup, sir? What is that?" Unobtrusively he surveyed the table. Makian's steak was gone, but his peas remained behind and the mashed potatoes were scarcely touched. He had not the grit, apparently, of Hennes, who had left a clean platter.
"The checkup is the monthly drive through all the farm to check on the plant rows. It's an old farm custom. We check on possible accidental breaks in the glass, on the condition and workings of the irrigation pipes and farm machinery, also on possible poaching. We need as many good men as possible out on the checkup."
"I'd like to go, sir."
"Good! I think you'll do." Makian turned to Hennes, who had been listening throughout with cold and unemotional eyes. "I like the boy's style, Hennes.
We may be able to make a farmboy out of him.
And, Hennes____________________ " His voice sank and David, moving away, could no longer catch it, but from the quick hooded glance Makian cast in the direction of Griswold's table, it could not have been very complimentary to the veteran farmboy.
David Starr caught the footstep inside his own partitioning and acted even before he was fully awake. He slipped off the far side of the bed and underneath. He caught the glimpse of bare feet glimmering whitely in the pale light of the residual fluorescents shining through the window. The residuals were allowed to burn in the farm dome during the sleeping period to avoid darkness too inconveniently black.
David waited, heard the rustle of the sheets as hands probed uselessly through the bed, then a whisper. "Earthman! Earthman! Where in Space____________________ "
David touched one of the feet and was rewarded by a sudden withdrawal and a sharp intake of breath.
There was a pause and then a head, shapeless in the dusk, was near his. "Earthman? You there?"
"Where else would I be sleeping, Bigman? I like it here under the bed."
The little fellow fumed and whispered peevishly, ''You might have squeezed a yell out of me and then I would have been in the stew to my ears. I've got to talk to you."
"Now's your chance." David chuckled softly and crawled back into bed.
Bigman said, "You're a suspicious space bug for an Earthman."
"You bet," said David. "I intend living a long life."
"If you're not careful, you won't."
"No?"
"No. I'm foolish to be here. If I'm caught, I'll never get my reference papers. It's just that you helped me when I could use it, and it's my turn to pay back. What was it you did to this louse, Griswold?"
"Just a little mixup in the special mess."
"A little mixup? He was raving mad. It was all Hennes could do to hold him back."
"Is this what you came to tell me, Bigman?"
"Part of it. They were behind the garage just after Eghts-out. They didn't know I was around, and I didn't tell them. Anyway, Hennes was yanking the stuffings out of Griswold; first for starting something with you when the Old Man was watching; and second, for not having the sand to finish once he had started it. Griswold was too mad to talk sense. Near as I could judge, he was just gargling something about how he would have your gizzard. Hennes said____________________ " He broke off. "Listen, didn't you tell me that Hennes was all clear as far as you were concerned?"
"He seems so."
"Those midnight trips-''