"How much water left?" asked Astro thickly.
"Enough for one more drink apiece," Tom replied.
"And then what happens?" mumbled Roger through his cracked lips.
"You know what will happen, Roger--you know and I know and Tom knows,"
muttered Astro grimly.
For eight days they had been struggling across the blistering shifting
sands, walking by night, sweltering under the thin space cloth during
the day. Their tongues were swollen. Scraggly beards covered their chins
and jaws. Roger's lips were cracked. The back of Tom's neck had suffered
ten minutes of direct sun and turned into a large swollen blister. Only
Astro appeared to be bearing up under the ordeal. There was no sign of
their being close to the canal.
"Wanta try marching during the day?" asked Astro. They had broken camp
on the evening of the eighth day and were preparing to move on into the
never-changing desert.
"If we don't hit the canal sometime during the night, there might be a
chance it's close enough to reach in a couple of hours," replied Tom.
"Either that, or we've miscalculated altogether."
"How about you, Roger?" asked Astro.
"Whatever you guys decide, I'll be right in back of you." Roger had
grown steadily weaker during the last three days and found it difficult
to sleep during the hours of rest.
"Then we'll keep marching tomorrow," said Astro.
"Let's move out," said Tom. Roger and Astro shouldered the remaining
slender food packs, with Tom carrying the water and space cloth, and
they started out into the rapidly darkening desert.
Once again, as on the previous eight nights, the little moon, Deimos,
swung across the sky, casting dim shadows ahead of the three marching
boys. Tom found it necessary to look at the compass more often. He
couldn't trust his sense of direction as much as he had earlier. Once,
he had gone for two hours in a direction that was fifty degrees off
course. The rest stops also were more frequent now, with each boy
throwing his pack to the ground and lying flat on his back, to enjoy the
cool breeze that never failed to soothe their scorched faces.
When the sun rose out of the desert on the morning of the ninth day,
they stopped, ate a light breakfast of preserved figs, divided the juice
evenly among them, and, ripping the space cloth into three sections,
wrapped it around themselves like Arabs and continued to walk.
By noon, with the sun directly overhead, they were staggering. At
two-thirty the sun and the heat were so overpowering that they stopped
involuntarily and tried to sit on the hot sand only to find that they
couldn't and so they stumbled on.
Neither Roger nor Astro asked for water. Finally Tom stopped and faced
his two unit-mates wobbling on unsteady legs.
"I've gone as far as I can without water. I--I don't think I can go
another step. So come on, we'll finish what we've got."
Astro and Roger nodded in quiet agreement. They watched with dull eyes
as Tom carefully opened the plastic container of water. He gave each a
cup and slowly, cautiously, measured out the remaining water into three
equal parts. He held the container up for a full minute allowing the
last drop to run out before tossing the empty bottle to one side.
"Here goes," said Tom. He wet his lips, placed a wet finger on his
temples and sipped the liquid slowly, allowing it to trickle down his
parched throat.
Roger and Astro did the same. After he had wet his lips, Astro took the
full amount in his mouth and washed it around, before swallowing it.
Roger brought the cup up slowly to his mouth with trembling hands,
tipped it shakily, and then before Astro or Tom could catch him, fell to
the ground. The precious water spilled into the sand.
Tom and Astro watched dumfounded as the dry sand sucked away the water
until nothing remained but a damp spot six inches wide.
"I guess--" began Tom, "I guess that about does it!"
"We'll have to carry him," said Astro simply.
Tom looked up into the eyes of his unit-mate. There he saw a
determination that would not be defeated. He nodded his head and stooped
over to grapple with Roger's legs. He got one leg under each arm and
then tried to straighten up. He fell to the sand and rolled to one side.
Astro watched him get up slowly, wearily, his space-cloth covering
remaining on the ground, and then, with gritted teeth, try once more to
pick Roger's legs up.
Astro put out his hand and touched Tom on the shoulder. His voice was
low, hardly above a whisper. "You lead the way, Tom. I'll carry him."
[Illustration: "_You lead the way, Tom. I'll carry him._"]
Tom looked up at the big Venusian. Their eyes locked for a moment and
then he nodded his head and turned away. He pulled out the pocket
compass and through blurred vision read the course beneath its wavering
needle. He waved an arm in a direction to the right of them and
staggered off.
Astro stooped down, picked Roger up in his arms and slowly got him
across his shoulders. Then steadying himself, he walked after Tom.
Suddenly a blast of wind, hot as fire, swept across the sandy plains,
whipping the sand up and around the two walking figures, biting into
exposed hands and faces. Tom tried to adjust his goggles when the sand
began to penetrate around the edges but his fingers shook and he dropped
them. In a flash, the sand drove into his eyes, blinding him.
"I can't see, Astro," said Tom in a hoarse whisper when Astro staggered
up. "You'll have to guide."
Astro took the compass out of Tom's hand and then placed his unit-mate's
hand on his back. Tom gripped the loose folds of the space cloth and
uniform beneath and struggled blindly after the big cadet.
The hot sun bore down. The wind kept blowing and Astro, with Roger slung
across his back like a sack of potatoes and Tom clinging blindly to his
uniform, walked steadily on.
He felt each step would be his last, but with each step he told himself
through gritted teeth that he could do ten more--and then ten more--ten
more.
He walked, he staggered, and once he fell to the ground, Tom slumping
behind him and Roger being tossed limply to the scorching sand. Slowly
Astro recovered, helped Tom to his feet, then with the last of his great
strength, picked up Roger again. This time, he was unable to get him to
his shoulder so he carried him like a baby in his arms.
At last the sun began to drop in the red sky. Astro felt Roger's limp
body slipping from his grip. By now, Tom had lost all but the very last
ounce of his strength and was simply being pulled along.
"Tom--" gasped Astro with great effort, "I'm going to count to a
thousand and then--I'm going to stop."
Tom didn't answer.
Astro began to count. "One--two--three--four--five--six--" He tried to
make each number become a step forward. He closed his eyes. It wasn't
important which way he went. It was only important that he walk those
thousand steps, "five hundred eleven--five hundred twelve--five hundred
thirteen--"
Involuntarily he opened his eyes when he felt himself climbing up a
small rise in the sand. He opened his eyes and ten feet away was the
flat blue surface of the canal they had been searching for.
"You can let go now, Tom," said Astro in a voice hardly above a whisper.
"We made it. We're on the bank of the canal."
* * * * *
"Hey, Roger," yelled Astro from the middle of the canal, "ever see a guy
make like a submarine?"
Tom and Roger sat on the top of the low bank of the canal drying off
from a swim, while Astro still splashed around luxuriating in the cool
water.
"Go on," yelled Roger, "let's see you drown yourself!"
"Not me, hot-shot," yelled Astro. "After that walk, all I'd have to do
is open my mouth and start drinking."
Finally tiring of his sport, the big Venusian pulled himself up onto the
bank of the canal and quickly dressed. Pulling on his space boots, he
turned to Tom and Roger, who were breaking out the last two containers
of food.
"You know, Astro," said Roger quietly, "I'll never be able to repay you
for carrying me."
Tom was quiet for a moment, and then added, "Same here, Astro."
Astro grinned from ear to ear. "Answer me this one question, both of
you. Would you have done it for me?"
The two boys nodded.
"Then you paid me. As long as I know I'm backed up by two guys like you,
then I'm paid. Carrying you, Roger, was just something I could do for
you at that particular time. One of these days, when we get out of this
oven, there'll come a time when you or Tom will do something for me--and
that's the way it should be."
"Thanks, Astro," said Roger. He reached over and put his hand on top of
Astro's, and then Tom placed his hand on top of theirs. The three boys
were quiet for a moment. There was an understanding in each of them that
they had accomplished more than just survival in a desert. They had
learned to respect each other. They were a unit at last.
"What do we do next?" asked Roger.
"Start walking that way," said Tom, pointing to his left along the bank
of the canal that stretched off in a straight line to the very horizon.
"If we're lucky, we might be able to find something to use as a raft and
then we can ride."
"Think there are any fish in this canal?" asked Astro, gazing out over
the cool blue water.
"Doubt it. At least I've never heard of there being any," replied Tom.
"Well," said Roger, standing up, "you can go a lot farther without food
than you can without water. And we still have that big container of ham
left."
"Yeah, as soon as it gets hot, we just swim instead of walk," said
Astro. "And, believe me, there's going to be a lot of swimming done!"
"Think we might strike anything down that way," asked Roger. He looked
down the canal in the direction Tom had indicated.
"That's the direction of the nearest atmosphere booster station. At
least that was the way it looked on the chart. All of them were built
near the canals."
"How far away do you think it is?" asked Astro.
"Must be at least three hundred miles."
"Let's start moving," said Roger, "and hope we can find something
that'll float us on the canal."
Single file, wearing the space cloths once more as protection against
the sun, they walked along the bank of the canal. When the heat became
unbearable, they dipped the squares of space cloths into the water and
wrapped themselves in them. When they began to dry out, they would
repeat the process. At noon, when the sun dried the fabric nearly as
fast as they could wet it, they stopped and slipped over the edge of the
bank into the cool water. Covering their heads with the cloths they
remained partly submerged until the late afternoon. When the sun had
lost some of its power, again they climbed out and continued walking.
Marching late into the night, they made camp beside the canal, finished
the last container of food, and, for the first time since leaving the
ship, slept during the night. By the time Deimos had risen in the sky,
they were sound asleep.
[Illustration]