"The ingratitude of humans," McBream said broodingly, "is amazing. Loan a Martian a couple of I.U.'s when he's in a spot, and he'll send you greeting cards on the anniversary for the rest of his life. Fish a terrestrial out of the water when he's drowning, and he sends you a bill from the tailor for resurfacin' his suit. Passengers!" McBream spat in the direction of the lucite cuspidor. I picked up the book from McBream's desk and examined it. It was beautifully printed on outsize sheets of silk