"You talk too much, Fatso," the tall one said angrily. "What's the difference, Rick?" Fatso said philosophically. "Won't do her any good." Rick turned to Leeda. "At least you know the score. Do you want to tell us where the stuff is, or are you going to make it tough on yourself?" Eyes like a Razor-back Sand Lizard, Leeda thought. "Out by our diggings," she answered readily. His eyes moved to the plastic bubble-house that she and Terry had called home when they weren't digging. "Search the place if you don't believe me," she suggested. "We never brought any of them back here with us. We cached them in the cave until we were ready to go home." "Then you did strike it?" the young man interrupted eagerly. She nodded. Rick turned to the young man. "Search the house, Jocco. She may be lying." The Sand Vulture wheeled and made a few low exploratory swoops toward them as they waited for Jocco. Leeda automatically checked her clothing to be sure she was completely covered. If that barbed tail touched the skin, death came--slow, agonizing, sure. Jocco came back. "Emptier than interstellar space." Holstering his gun, Rick started off saying, "Let's go. And no funny stuff." Leeda smiled ironically and remained where she was. "It's not that easy. The cave is four walking days away." Startled, Fatso groaned. "Where's your sand-mobile?" "Broken down at the diggings. We came back to get parts." Fatso and Jocco cussed loudly. Rick quieted them. "Get the parts," he told Leeda. "You bring any water?" she asked. "You haven't any?" Fatso's voice rose shrilly. Leeda reached to her waist and the small attached flask. "Just this. And Terry has--had--one just like it. Enough for a couple old-timers like us. Not near enough for everyone now. Particularly with you being new to Mars." Jocco snatched the flask from Terry's waist. "I'll take that, Jocco," Rick commanded. "And yours too," he gestured to Leeda. She handed it over obediently. "But, Rick," Fatso began. "No arguments. Share and share alike. I'll dole it out. Now get the parts," he told Leeda. "You go with her, Fatso." As soon as they were back, the men began to move off. For the first time Leeda lost control of herself. "For God's sake, aren't you going to at least bury him?" Rick's face twisted with its wry grin as he walked back to her. "Give the Sand Vulture a break. He's got to eat." "But ..." she began to protest. Swiftly he was beside her, doing something to her fingers. The pain surged up her arm; brought her stomach up into her throat gaggingly. Then he released her. Gave her a shove. "When I say move, that's what I mean. Get going." * * * * * The cold, dry Martian air sucked the moisture irresistibly through the skin and suits. As the day slid slowly by, the ever near horizon stayed practically featureless. The red sand bored like Callisto hornets into the skin.