It swept forward without form and like an ocean wave, it laved against the cyclone fencing that surrounded that part of Fabriville and was repulsed. A determined, well-fed band would have crushed the fencing, but this was a dispirited mob that would have sold its leader for a square meal and would have worked for the promise of a second meal in a row. Keg Johnson came to the edge of Fabriville in a medium-sized tank that could withstand the entire mob to the last man. He ran the tank out of the gate and right to the edge of the mob, who shrank back to permit the thundering monster to pass. He stopped the tank and stood up in the top turret and spoke. A built-in amplifier carried his voice to the edge of the mob. "Who is your leader?" Norton came forward boldly. "I am." "What do you intend?" "We want a haven. We are cold and hungry and needy." Johnson nodded. "I can see that," he said dryly. "How did you collect this gang?" "Most of this outfit were caught in the crash. Their incomes did not permit them to buy duplicators, and their friends were too busy running up their money to bother handing any out." "Fine friends." "And in the smaller cities, the attendants at the power stations left. There are a horde of dead towns on Mars today. That is why we have come here. We know that Fabriville is self-sufficient. We intend to join you." "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 house-hold-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?" "What are you getting out of this?" asked Norton suspiciously.