Rioz said heavily, “Go on. Say you told me so. A year ago when Hilder made that speech, you told me so. Say it.”
Long shrugged.
Rioz said, “They’ve set up the quota. Fifteen minutes ago the news came out.”
“Well?”
“Fifty thousand tons of water per trip.”
“What?” yelled Swenson, burning. “You can’t get off Mars with fifty thousand!”
“That’s the figure. It’s a deliberate piece of gutting. No more scavenging.”
Dora came out with the coffee and set it down all around.
“What’s all this about no more scavenging?” She sat down very firmly and Swenson looked helpless.
“It seems,” said Long, “that they’re rationing us at fifty thousand tons and that means we can’t make any more trips.”