Red Planet by Robert A. Heinlein Page B

themselves, but this one had set above it an overhanging beam, as if to support a hoist. Jim spotted it as terrestrial workmanship.
    He stopped. Frank skated on ahead, noticed presently that Jim was not following him and came back. ‘What's up?’ he called out.
    'I think this is it.’
    'Hmm ... could be.’ They removed their skates and climbed the ramp. At the top, set back a short distance from the bank, was one of the bubble-shaped buildings which are the sign anywhere on Mars of the alien from Earth. Beyond it a foundation had been started for the reducing plant. Jim heaved a big sigh. Frank nodded and said, ‘Just about where we expected to find it.’
    'And none too soon,’ added Jim. The Sun was close to the western horizon and dropping closer as they watched.
    There was, of course, no one in the shelter; no further work would be done at this latitude until the following spring. The shelter was unpressurized; they simply unlatched the outer door, walked through the inner door without delay. Frank groped for the light switch, found it, and lighted up the place—the lighting circuit was powered by the building's atomic fuel power pack and did not require the presence of men,
    It was a simple shelter, lined with bunks except for the space occupied by the kitchen unit. Frank looked around happily. ‘Looks like we've found a home from home, Jim.’
    'Yep.’ Jim looked around, located the shelter's thermostat, and cut it in. Shortly the room became warmer and with it there was a soft sighing sound as the building's pressure regulator, hooked in with the thermostat, started the building's super-charger. In a few minutes the boys were able to remove their masks and finally their outdoor suits as well.
    Jim poked around the kitchen unit, opening cupboards and peering into shelves. ‘Find anything?’ asked Frank.
    'Nary a thing. Seems like they could have left at least a can of beans.’
    'Now maybe you're glad I raided the kitchen before we left. Supper in five minutes.’
    'Okay, so you've got a real talent for crime,’ acknowledged Jim. ‘I salute you.’ He tried the water tap. ‘Plenty of water in the tanks,’ he announced.
    'Good!’ Frank answered. ‘That saves me having to go down and chip ice. I need to fill my mask. I was dry the last few miles.’ The high coxcomb structure on a Mars mask is not only a little supercharger with its power pack, needed to pressurize the mask; it is also a small water reservoir. A nipple in the mask permits the wearer to take a drink outdoors, but this is a secondary function. The prime need for water in a Mars mask is to wet a wick through which the air is forced before it reaches the wearer's nose.
    'You were? Don't you know better than to drink yourself dry?’
    'I forgot to fill it before we left.’
    'Tourist!’
    'Well, we left in kind of a hurry, you know.’
    'How long were you dry?’
    'I don't know exactly,’ Frank evaded.
    'How's your throat?’
    'All right. A little dry, maybe.’
    'Let me see it,’ Jim persisted, coming closer.
    Frank pushed him away. ‘I tell you it's all right. Let's eat.’
    'Well—okay.’
    They dined off canned corned beef hash and went promptly to bed. Willis snuggled up against Jim's stomach and imitated his snores.
    Breakfast was more of the same, since there was some hash left and Frank insisted that they not waste anything. Willis had no breakfast since he had eaten only two weeks before, but he absorbed nearly a quart of water. As they were about to leave Jim held up a flashlight. ‘Look what I found.’
    'Well, put it back and let's go.’
    'I think I'll keep it,’ Jim answered, stuffing it in his bag. ‘We might have a use for it.’
    'We won't and it's not yours.’
    'For criminy's sake, I'm not swiping it; I'm just borrowing it. This is an emergency.’
    Frank shrugged. ‘Okay, let's get moving.’ A few minutes later they were on the ice and again headed south. It was a beautiful day, as Martian days almost always are;