ger flatly. "And when the water ran out, we'd just
be sitting there."

"We're losing time," said Tom. "Let's move." He lengthened his stride
through the soft sand that sucked at his high space boots and faced the
already dimming horizon. The light breeze felt good on his face.

* * * * *

The three cadets had no fear of running into anything in their march
through the darkness across the shifting sands. And only an occasional
flash of the emergency light to check the compass was necessary to keep
them moving in the right direction.

There wasn't much talk. There wasn't much to talk about. About nine
o'clock the boys stopped and opened one of the containers of food and
ate a quick meal of sandwiches. This was followed by a carefully
measured ounce of water, and fifteen minutes later they resumed their
march across the New Sahara.

About ten o'clock, Deimos, one of the small twin moons of Mars, swung up
overhead, washing the desert with a pale cold light. By morning, when
the cherry-red sun broke the line of the horizon, Tom estimated that
they had walked about twenty miles.

"Think we ought to camp here?" asked Astro.

"If you can show me a better spot," said Roger with a laugh, "I'll be
happy to use it!" He swung his arm in a wide circle, indicating a
wasteland of sand that spread as far as the eyes could see.

"I could go for another hour or so," said Astro, "before it gets too
hot."

"And wait for the heat to reach the top of the thermometer? Uh-huh, not
me," said Roger. "I'll take as much sleep as I can get now--while it's
still a little cool."

"Roger's right," said Tom. "We'd better take it easy now. We won't be
able to get much sleep after noon."

"What do we do from noon until evening?" asked Astro.

"Aside from just sitting under this hunk of space cloth, I guess we'll
come as close to being roasted alive as a human can get."

"You want to eat now?" asked Astro.

Tom and Roger laughed. "I'm not hungry, but you go ahead," said Tom. "I
know that appetite of yours won't wait."

"I'm not too hungry either," said Roger. "Go ahead, you clobber-headed
juice jockey."

Astro grinned sheepishly, and opening one of the containers of food,
quickly wolfed down a breakfast of smoked Venusian fatfish.

Tom and Roger began spreading the space cloth on the sand that was
already hot to the touch. Anchoring the four corners in the sand with
the emergency lights and one of Tom's