Larkin felt shock rise in him. He held it under control. His hands clenched into fists. "By whose authority?" His voice had acid in it. "Whose authority?" For an instant, Docker looked astonished. "Why, Roy said--" He caught himself. The astonishment turned into swift anger which showed as a tide of red creeping over his face. "By our own authority!" His fist pounded on the desk, emphasizing the words. "You do not have the sanction of the Martian government?" "What government is there on Mars?" Docker demanded. "The whole cursed planet is split into a hundred different tribes that do not even know the meaning of the word government." "Yes, I know," Larkin said. Docker spoke the truth, or part of it. There was no central government on the red planet. Yet there was a central authority, of a sort. It centered here in this city of Sudal, in the person of a despot named Malovar. Larkin did not pretend to understand the system but he knew that far-ranging desert tribes followed Malovar's orders, at least to a degree. Malovar's orders and Martian law and custom. "What about Earth Government?" Larkin questioned. "Earth Government can go to hell!" Docker answered. "They have no control over Mars. Why do you bring up such questions? I told you we were taking over distribution of mineral fertilizers on this planet. That's enough authority for you or for anybody else." Again the fist banged on the desk. Larkin looked at the fist and was silent. The fist impressed him not at all but the situation did impress him. There was a question he wanted to ask but he was afraid he knew the answer without asking. He started to ask it, then hastily changed his mind. "How do you know the Martians will buy from you?" "They buy from you, don't they? They've been buying from you for seven years. They'll buy from us." He sounded very sure of himself, like a man who has a plan all made, a plan which he knows will work. "Ah!" Larkin sighed and was silent. True, the Martians had bought from him, but there was a price which he had to pay for doing business here, a price which Docker and his men might not relish paying. Larkin tried to imagine the consequences of their refusal to pay that price. His imagination failed him. These Martians had forgotten a great many things that humans had not yet learned. Larkin thought again of the question he wanted to ask, and again put off asking it. "What prices do you intend to charge for your minerals?" A grin that had relish in it showed on Docker's face. "Our prices will be fair. Of course, we expect to show a profit." "Suppose the Martians can't pay your prices?" "To hell with that!" Docker snorted. "We're not transporting minerals all the way to Mars just to give them away. They'll pay all right. They'll pay or they won't eat." He smacked his lips with obvious relish. A situation in which people paid his prices or did not eat pleased him.