"Fair enough," said Barry Williams. "I'll be glad to tell you, since you're asking."
He told them briefly of his encounter with the mist. When he'd finished, the taut silence in which they'd listened was snapped by angry mutterings. This time the anger seemed directed against the accusations of the Martian maiden, rather than against Barry.
"Those savages calling us murderers!"
Craig Grey's voice was scornful. "Ridiculous of course. These creatures are human only in superficial resemblance." He drew deeply through his long holder, and blew a great cloud of smoke toward Barry. "Of course, you know that Earth laws have declared them savages, and provided that none save humans of Earth descent can hold property on Mars, or citizenship in the Earth state. How could we murder or rob them—since they're not human and own nothing?"
"True—and interesting," conceded Williams. "I know too the laws were passed on suggestion of exploring parties sent here by three big inter-planetary combines, of which your own was the largest. That was fifty years ago. You were at the head of your company then—excuse me for giving your age away." Williams was speaking slowly, thinking his way. Some of the puzzle of Mars was unfolding as he spoke, against this background of resentful Earthmen.
"Those laws gave you and your friends control of great wealth in the ore mines. You broke the resistance of the Martians, and used some as cheap labor in the mines. The others had to find ore dust and sell it to you for a song, to buy food and other things from you at your price. And they had to avoid being shot by ore-seekers who wanted the dust."
Again the other men growled toward Barry.
"Martian lover!"
"Justice from the Crypt, eh? We'll send you back there!"