slope, over rubble and ruts,
avoiding the largest rocks. At last they reached the top, and the
groundcar arrowed out over the desert again, picking up speed.

Far to the left and ahead of them there was another dust-cloud drifting
up, one that was not of the thin wind, but nearly stationary. Nuwell
found the binoculars in the storage compartment and handed them to Maya.

"What's that over there?" he wondered. "Another groundcar? Take a look,
Maya."

Maya trained the glasses in the direction indicated, through the
groundcar's transparent dome. It was difficult to get them focused, for
the groundcar swayed and jolted, but at last she was able to make brief
identification.

"They're Martians, Nuwell," she said. "Can we drive over that way?"

"You've seen Martians before," he said.

"But I'd like to speak with them," she said. "I talk their language, you
know."

"Yes, I do know, darling, but that's utterly foolish. They're only
animals, after all, and we have to get to Ultra Vires before night, if
we can."

He kept the groundcar on its course.

Maya lapsed into disgruntled silence. Nuwell stole a sidelong glance
at her, his breath catching slightly at the curve of the petite,
perfectly feminine form beneath the loose Martian tunic and baggy
trousers. He reached over and patted her hand.

But Maya was offended. She kept her black head turned away from him,
looking out of the groundcar dome across the desert.

At their destination, Goat Hennessey peered eagerly into the distance,
searching.

This time, his watery blue eyes picked up two tiny figures on the
horizon. He watched them as they approached, finally detailing
themselves into two naked, pink creatures of manshape and only slightly
more than mansize.

"They made it," he muttered. "Both of them. Good!"

He turned and entered the airlock. As soon as its air reached
terrestrial density and composition, he removed his marshelmet.

Goat rode the elevator to the ground level, left it and hurried down a
corridor, reaching the outside airlock in time to admit the two figures.

Adam entered first, easily confident, carrying his head like a king.
Brute shambled behind him.

"Everything go all right?" asked Goat, his voice quavering in his
anxiety.

"Fine, father," said Adam, smiling to reveal savage, even teeth.

"Nothing unusual happen?"

"Nothing at all, sir."

"You forget, Adam?" mouthed Brute eagerly. "You forget you fall?"

Adam spun on him fer