I've set its overdrive unit for a hop to Dara. Now I'm calling for
volunteers to take half a million bushels of grain to where it's
needed. Do I get any volunteers?"

He got four. Not immediately, because they were ashamed that he'd made
it impossible to carry out their original fanatic plan, and now
offered something much better to make up for it. They raged. But half
a million bushels of grain meant that people who must otherwise die
might live.

Ultimately, truculently, first one and then another angrily agreed.

"Good!" said Calhoun. "Now, how many of you dare risk the trip alone?
I've got one grain ship warming up. There are plenty of others around
us. Every one of you can take a ship and half a million bushels to
Dara, if you have the nerve!"

The atmosphere changed. Suddenly they clamored for the task he offered
them. They were still acutely uncomfortable. He'd bossed them and
taught them until they felt capable and glamorous and proud. Then he'd
pinned their ears back. But if they returned to Dara with four enemy
ships and unimaginable quantities of food with which to break the
famine....

There was work to be done first, of course. Only one ship was so far
warming up. Three more had to be entered, in spacesuits, and each had
to have its interior warmed so breathable air could exist inside it,
and at least part of the stored provisions had to be brought up to
reasonable temperature for use on the journey.