e."

"What the hell difference does that make to you?" asked Baat bluntly.

"Hydrazine's expensive," replied Jonner. "Reaction mass isn't, and you
use less of it. I was born on Mars, Russo. Mars is my home, and I want
to see my people get the supplies they need from Earth at a reasonable
transport cost, not pay through the nose for every packet of vegetable
seed."

They reached the wardroom door.

"Too bad I have to degrav my old chief," said Baat, chuckling. "But I'm
a rocket man, myself, and I say to hell with your hot-rod atom drive.
I'm sorry you got deflected into this run, Jonner; you'll never break
Marscorp's orbit."

* * * * *

The _Marsward XVIII_ was a huge vessel, the biggest the Mars Corporation
ever had put into space. It was a collection of spheres and cylinders,
joined together by a network of steel ties. Nearly 90% of its weight was
fuel, for the one-way trip to Mars.

Its competitor, the _Radiant Hope_, riding ten miles away in orbit
around the Earth, was the strangest looking vessel ever to get clearance
from a space station. It looked like a tug towing a barge. The tug was
the atomic power plant. Two miles behind, attached by a thin cable, was
the passenger compartment and cargo.

On the control deck of the _Radiant Hope_, Jonner gripped a microphone
and shouted profane instructions at the pilot of a squat ground-to-space
rocket twenty miles away. T'an Li Cho, the ship's engineer, was peering
out the port at the speck of light toward which Jonner was directing his
wrath, while Qoqol, the Martian astrogator, worked at his charts on the
other side of the deck.

"I thought all cargo was aboard, Jonner," said T'an.

"It is," said Jonner, laying the mike aside. "That G-boat isn't hauling
cargo. It's going with us. I'm not taking any chances on Marscorp
refusing to ferry our cargo back and forth at Mars."

"Is plotted, Jonner," boomed Qoqol, turning his head to peer at them
with huge eyes through the spidery tangle of his thin, double-jointed
arms and legs. He reached an eight-foot arm across the deck and handed
Jonner his figures. Jonner gave them to T'an.

"Figure out power for that one, T'an," ordered Jonner, and took his seat
in the cushioned control chair.

T'an pulled a slide rule from his tunic pocket, but his black almond
eyes rested quizzically on Jonner.

"It's four hours before blastoff," he reminded.

"I've cleared power for this with Space Contr