Red Planet by Robert A. Heinlein Page A

somewhere?’
    'For a walk.’
    'Might as well leave your bags. You'll be back.’
    They did not answer but went on out the door. Five minutes later they were skating south on west Strymon.
    'Hey, Jim!’
    'What?’
    'Let's stop for a minute. I want to sling my bag.’
    'Just what I was thinking.’ Their travel bags unbalanced them and prevented proper arm motion and any real speed. But skating was a common form of locomotion; the bags had straps which permitted them to be slung as haversacks. Jim opened his before he put it on; Willis extended his eye stalks and looked at him reproachfully. ‘Jim boy gone long time.’
    'Sorry, old fellow.’
    'Willis not talk.’
    'Willis can talk all he wants to now. Look, if I leave the bag open a little bit so that you can see, will you manage not to fall out?’
    'Willis want out.’
    'Can't do that; I'm going to take you for a fine ride. You won't fall out?’
    'Willis not fall out.’
    'Okay.’ He slung his bag and they set out again.
    They picked up speed. With fast ice, little air resistance, and the low Martian gravity the speed of a skater on Mars is limited by his skill in stroking. Both of the boys were able. Willis let out a ‘Whee!’ and they settled down to putting miles behind them.
    The desert plateau between Cynia and Charax is higher than the dead sea bottom between Cynia and the equator. This drop is used to move the waters of the southern polar cap across the desert to the great green belt near the equator. In midwinter the southern ice cap reaches to Charax; the double canal of Strymon, which starts at Charax, is one of the principal discharge points for the polar cap when it melts in the spring.
    The boys were starting at the lower end of the canal's drop; the walls of the canal reached high above their heads. Furthermore the water level—or ice level—was low because the season was late autumn; the water level would be much higher during spring flood. There was nothing to see but the banks of the canal converging ahead of them, the blue sky beyond, and the purple-black sky overhead. The Sun was behind them and a bit west of meridian; it was moving north toward northern summer solstice. Seasons do not lag on Mars as much as they do on Earth; there are no oceans to hold the heat and the only ‘flywheel’ of the climate is the freezing and melting of the polar caps.
    With nothing to see the boys concentrated on skating, heads down and shoulders swinging.
    After many miles of monotonous speed Jim grew careless; the toe of his right runner caught on some minor obstruction in the ice. He went down. His suit saved him from ice burns and he knew how to fall safely, but Willis popped out of his bag like a cork from a bottle.
    The bouncer, true to instinct, hauled in all excrescences at once. He hit as a ball and rolled; he travelled over the ice for several hundred yards. Frank threw himself into a hockey stop as soon as he saw Jim tumble. He stopped in a shower of ice particles and went back to help Jim up. ‘You all right?’
    'Sure. Where's Willis?’
    They skated on and recovered the bouncer who was now standing on his tiny legs and waited for them. ‘Whoopee!’ yelled Willis as they came up. ‘Do it again!’
    'Not if I can help it,’ Jim assured him and stuffed him back in the bag. ‘Say, Frank, how long have we been travelling?’
    'Not over three hours,’ Frank decided, after a glance at the Sun.
    'I wish I had my watch,’ complained Jim. ‘We don't want to overrun the shelter.’
    'Oh, we won't come to it for another couple of hours, at least.’
    'But what's to keep us from passing right by it? We can't see over these banks.’
    'Want to turn around and go back?’
    'No.’
    'Then quit worrying.’
    Jim shut up but continued to worry. Perhaps that was why he noticed the only indication of the shelter when they came to it, for Frank skated on past it. It was merely a ramp down the bank. There were such ramps every few miles, as ancient as the canals