Greenseed Station
“We need to increase food production,” Marsh said. “We’re beginning to cut into the stores, and the amount of food we’re giving away is still increasing.”
“By how much?” asked Harkness, Greenseed’s food production manager.
“How much can you give me?”
Harkness became thoughtful. Marsh knew from previous experience that Harkness would be doing the calculations in his head. There would be no hurrying him. He found himself studying the other man, looking for any signs of rebellion. It was something he’d found himself doing with more and more of those who worked for him. He couldn’t stop it, even though he realised it was evidence of a dangerous paranoia.
Harkness was tall, even taller than Marsh, but heavily built where Marsh was slight. At fifty-one he was a deca
