e first thing we have to do is get rid of that
Wheeler business, young man. My name is Monk. Fletcher Monk."

The official looked puzzled. "I don't get it. Why the phoney name?"

"I used an alias for reasons of my own. Now I'm telling you my real
name. Monk."

The man shrugged and wrote something on the manifest.

"I don't expect you to cheer," said Monk sarcastically. "But you could
show some reaction."

"What does that mean?"

Monk flushed. "Don't tell me you've never heard of me. I'm _Fletcher
Monk_. I _own_ half of this place."

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so?' My firm controls thirty percent of the mineral
rights of the Colony. We ship you practically all of your Earth
supplies. We can buy or sell this place at the drop of a quotation!"

"Listen, bud." The young man seemed annoyed. "If you're trying to
impress me, forget it. And if you're threatening my job, you can take
it!"

"Insolence!" Monk raged. "Who's your commanding officer? I want to see
him right away!"

"My pleasure," the official grinned. "Hey, Gregorio!" he called to the
man at the desk behind him. "Call Captain Moore. Gentleman here wants
a word with him."

* * * * *

Monk took a seat while the other passengers went through the initial
formalities. He sat there, fuming, until a tall man with an untrimmed
beard entered the room. He took off his helmet and spoke briefly to
the young man at the front desk, then looked over at Monk and came to
his side.

"Mr. Monk?" he said. "I'm Captain Moore."

"Nice to meet you, Captain. I've just had a little conversation with
your official greeter." He smiled, man-to-man. "Not a very friendly
chap."

"We forget a lot about manners up here," said the captain, not smiling
back. "We're kept pretty busy."

* * * * *

"I realize that, of course," said the industrialist. "But I would
expect a little common courtesy--"

"You'll _earn_ the right to courtesy out here, Mr. Monk," the captain
snapped. "The Mars Colony lives on labor, and that's our first
consideration. Courtesy comes about last on our list. We're in a
battle here, twenty-four hours and thirty-seven minutes a day. We've
got to fight to keep alive, and we've got to wrestle with a whole new
planet if we want to unearth its secrets. Courtesy is a distinct
privilege on Mars, Mr. Monk."

Monk bristled. "I don't quite get your meaning, Captain," he said
indignantly. "But don't exp