l some passerby took pity and towed me back
home.

But I managed to avoid getting lost, which surprised me, and after four
nerve-wracking hours I finally spotted the yellow-painted X of a
registered claim on a half-mile-thick chunk of rock dead ahead. As I got
closer, I spied a scooter parked near the X, and beside it an inflated
portable dome. The scooter was somewhat larger than mine, but no newer
and probably even less safe. The dome was varicolored, from repeated
patching.

This would be the claim, and this is where I would find Karpin, sitting
on his property while waiting for the sale to go through. Prospectors
like Karpin are free-lance men, working for no particular company. They
register their claims in their own names, and then sell the rights to
whichever company shows up first with the most attractive offer. There's
a lot of paperwork to such a sale, and it's all handled by the company.
While waiting, the smart prospector sits on his claim and makes sure
nobody chips off a part of it for himself, a stunt that still happens
now and again. It doesn't take too much concentrated explosive to make
two rocks out of one rock, and a man's claim is only the rock with his X
on it.

I set the scooter down next to the other one, and flicked the toggle for
the air pumps, then put on the fishbowl and went about unattaching the
suit from the ship. When the red light flashed on and off, I spun the
door, opened it, and stepped out onto the rock, moving very cautiously.
It isn't that I don't believe the magnets in the boot soles will work,
it's just that I know for a fact that they won't work if I happen to
raise both feet at the same time.

[Illustration]

I clumped across the crude X to Karpin's dome. The dome had no viewports
at all, so I wasn't sure Karpin was aware of my presence. I rapped my
metal glove on the metal outer door of the lock, and then I was sure.

But it took him long enough to open up. I had just about decided he'd
joined his partner in the long sleep when the door cracked open an inch.
I pushed it open and stepped into the lock, ducking my head. The door
was only five feet high, and just as wide as the lock itself, three
feet. The other dimensions of the lock were: height, six feet six;
width, one foot. Not exactly room to dance in.

* * *

When the red light high on the left-hand wall clicked off, I rapped on
the inner door. It promptly opened, I stepped through and removed