Born Under Mars by John Brunner
By John Brunner
Whilst mankind colonized the celebs, they traveled out from Earth in instructions - to Centaurus and its Southern Hemisphere pals and to Ursa significant and the constellations round Polaris. and unusual to claim the people who settled on these a number of worlds started to become differing opposed forms. For Ray Mallin, born below the skin of Mars within the sparse colony of Earth's inhospitable outdated neighbor, neither the anarchic 'bears' nor the autocratic 'Centaurs' commanded his loyalty. So while mystery brokers of either galactic groupings by surprise concentration their unwelcome consciousness on his most up-to-date star-piloting undertaking, he knew basically that anything of colossal value used to be up - and that he unknowingly was once the main to it.
First released 1968.
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Clearing the pirates out. All merchanters having equal chance at the new ships that might be built. Hopes rose and fell. At the moment they were fallen, and she took wild chances on dockside. Geoff was right. Stupidity. But it had helped, with the soldiers crawling all over station that close to crossing the Line into foreign space. So she scattered a bit of her saved credit on a fellow who 32 Merchanter's Luck could use a good drink and a good sleepover. In a wild impulse of charity it might have been good to have scattered a bit more on him: he looked as if he could have used it… but touchy-proud.
His mouth tasted of copper and bile. His hands were stiff and refused coordinated movement. He rolled out of the cushion in the pit and hit the deck on his knees in a skittering of empty water bottles and foil papers sliding under his hand. "Wake up, Sandy," comp was telling him. He reached the keyboard still kneeling, hooked an arm over it and managed to code in the one zero one that stopped it, about the most that his numbed brain was capable of doing in straight sequence. Wake up. Not that much time left before they would want answers out of him, before his absence from controls would be noticed.
Prolonged dock was no fun for the littlest, in cramped spaces and adult noise. "Bye," Allison said, and Tish slid down and worked her way through adult legs to bedevil some of her other several hundred cousins, while Allison shut her eyes and wished the noise would stop. Her wishes were narrow at the moment, centered on her own comfortable, clean-smelling bed. Then the bell rang, the Cinderella stroke that ended liberty and liberties, and the children were shushed and taken in arms. Conversations died.