uch, to be exact?"

"Twenty thousand, Earth weight."

"Tons?"

Pete shook his head. "Hundredweight."

The captain raised his eyebrows. "I see. And there are--" he consulted
the papers in his hand--"roughly two hundred and twenty colonists here
on Baron IV. Is that right?"

"That's right."

"Seventy-four men, eighty-one women, and fifty-nine children, to be
exact?"

"I'd have to look it up. Margaret Singman had twins the other night."

"Well, don't be ridiculous," snapped the captain. "On a planet the size
of Baron IV, with seventy-four men, you should be producing a dozen
times the _taaro_ you stated. We'll consider that your quota for a
starter, at least. You have ample seed, according to my records. I
should think, with the proper equipment--"

"Now wait a minute," Pete said softly. "We're fighting a climate here,
captain. You should know that. We have only a two-planting season, and
the 'proper equipment,' as you call it, doesn't operate too well out
here. It has a way of clogging up with dust in the summer, and rusting
in the winter."

"Really," said Captain Varga. "As I was saying, with the proper
equipment, you could cultivate a great deal more land than you seem to
be using. This would give you the necessary heavier yield. Wouldn't you
say so, Nathan?"

The little nervous man nodded. "Certainly, captain. With the proper
organization of labor."

"That's nonsense," Pete said, suddenly angry. "Nobody can get that kind
of yield from this planet. The ground won't give it, and the men won't
grow it."

The captain gave him a long look. "Really?" he said. "I think you're
wrong. I think the men will grow it."

Pete stood up slowly. "What are you trying to say? This business about
quotas and organization of labor--"

"You didn't read our credentials as we instructed you, Farnam. Mr.
Nathan is the official governor of the colony on Baron IV, as of now.
You'll find him most co-operative, I'm sure, but he's answerable
directly to me in all matters. My job is administration of the entire
Baron system. Clear enough?"

Pete's eyes were dark. "I think you'd better draw me a picture," he said
tightly. "A very clear picture."

"Very well. Baron IV is not paying for its upkeep. _Taaro_, after all,
is not the most necessary of crops in the universe. It has value, but
not very much value, all things considered. If the production of _taaro_
here is not increased sharply, it may be necessary to close down the
co