"Sorry," said Keg. "We have no openings."
"We'll join you by force, if need be."
"Want to try it?" asked Keg, patting the twin 105-mm. short rifles that looked out over the mob.
No answer for a moment.
"I'll try appealing to your better nature," said Norton softly. "Shall we starve and shiver while Fabriville eats and is warm?"
"How willing are you to take part?" asked Keg.
"Name it."
"Then listen. We need a more sturdy fence around Fabriville. We have the material—who hasn't?—but we have not the manpower. Get your mob to run up this fence, Norton, and I'll see that you are paid by giving each and every man a household-size duplicator complete with a set of household recordings. Is that a deal?"
Norton smiled wryly. "And what good is a duplicator with no place to plug it in? The power stations are down all over Mars."
"In building this fence," said Keg, "you are working out the value of the duplicators. Now look, Norton, in order to make this thing tick, I want to know whether you and your motley crew are honest. There are enough of you to man every vacant power station on Mars. If you, as leader of this gang, will see to it that the stations are manned and running every minute of the day, I'll see that you are given the benefits of Fabriville's more massive duplicators. That means fliers, and equipment of that size, Norton. Are you game?"