“Lori, I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Let’s really do it.”

“Again? I thought this morning’s effort would hold you for at least half an hour!”

“No,” he said, impatient with this game.

She realized that he was serious. “Do what?”

“Move to Mars,” he said, fearing her reaction.

Lori took a deep breath, exasperated. “Doug, please don’t spoil a perfectly wonderful morning.”

“Just think about it,” he said. If he could only convince her…

“How many times do we have to go through this?” she demanded impatiently. “I don’t want to live on Mars. It’s dry, it’s ugly, it’s boring.”

Quaid looked at a deer sipping at a brook, on the environmental window. “They just doubled the bonus for new colonists.”

“Of course! No idiot’ll go near the place! A revolution could break out any minute!” She fussed with her breakfast, not eating it. She was really upset. Quaid was upset too. He wished she would consider his dream, instead of disparaging it. She was matchless in bed, but on this subject she was a loss. He controlled his anger, picked up the remote control she had set on the table, and turned the news back on. He was in luck; the Mars item was still running. “With one mine already closed,” the newscaster continued, “Mars Administrator Vilos Cohaagen vowed that troops would be used, if necessary, to keep production at full capacity.” The scene shifted to show a press conference in progress. Quaid recognized the features of the Mars Colony Administrator. Cohaagen was big, almost as big as Quaid himself. He’d have to be, for that job, Quaid thought. Appointed by the Northern Bloc to look after the mining operations on Mars, the Colony Administrator was like a military governor from the imperialist past. He wielded almost absolute power, and his ability to command was evident as he fielded questions from reporters.

“Mr. Cohaagen!” a reporter demanded. “Will you negotiate with their leader, Mr. Kuato? He seems to be gathering quite a following among—”