When the Spaniards first came to places like Peru and Bolivia, they discovered that neither pigs nor birds, cattle nor Spaniards could breed above ten thousand feet. It was only after a generation had lived at about eight thousand feet that the descendants were able to reproduce at fourteen thousand. The Indians had been there before them from time immemorial.

  The facts and figures gave me a sinking sensation. I looked at Jose's purplish-red complexion, and realized that he could be a Martian. But it was obvious that I couldn't.

  I saw the pile beside the tracks far ahead before Jos6 did. I expected it, of course; and so I waited, wondering how long it would take him to spot the object. Twenty seconds went by, and then he pointed. ,

  I sighed. No sign of oxygen starvation with that kind of vision.

  'Start braking her!' I ordered.

  He looked at me with some surprise, and I know he was thinking it was too soon. He was not making due allowance for the fact that it took a lot longer to stop a train on Mars. Same mass as on Earth, but less weight, less friction. We came to a halt, the wheels grinding on the rails, the engine panting and shuddering.

  There was no one in sight, only the huge bag lying beside the tracks. I guessed there was about two tons of rock inside the bag. 'I'll go outside,' I told Joe. 'Then you drive forward till I wave for you to stop.'

  He nodded his acceptance of my instructions. As I slid the door open, he pulled his big collar up over his ears; and, when I had climbed to the ground, he came over and shut the door.

  It was not quite as cold as it had been. I guessed the temperature had come up to fifty below. The long train started as I motioned Jos6 - and stopped when I waved. I used the 'claw', a small crane which we carried for the purpose of lifting such bundles into an ore car. And presently I was back inside the engine cab.

  I said, 'You can speed up now.'

  The speedometer climbed. At seventy, Jos6 leveled her off. He explained: T don't know enough about this terrain, senor, to go any faster.'

  I nodded, and took control. The speedometer needle edged higher. Jose said, 'That bag of stuff, Bill' - he almost said it 'BeeP - 'who puts it beside the track?'

  I'd been wondering if he would show any curiosity. 'A race of small, furry creatures,' I answered. 'They're very shy. They live underground, and dig ore for us.' I grinned at his puzzled expression. 'We don't want the ore, because it's usually only rock. We're interested in the material of the bags. It's as thin as paper, completely transparent, and yet it can withstand the weight of tons of rock. They manufacture it from their own bodies, much the way spiders produce webs. We can't seem to make them understand that we want only the bags.'

  We did the next fifty miles at an average of eighty-four miles per hour. It was a straight run, and it was like gliding along on ice. On every side was a flat waste of sand that had not changed in all the years since I had first seen it. The sun was climbing in a sky that was bluer now^he stars faint but still visible. We plunged through that barren world to the hiss of the high speed steam turbines, and the hum of the gears that transmitted their power to the wheels. I felt more than human. I was the master of a juggernaut that violated the ancient silences of a planet millions of miles remote from the planet Earth.

  As I saw the hills in the distance rearing up like low mounds, I began to slow. On the panel a red light blinked. Eight miles, the indicator said. I applied the brakes.

  Jose pointed questioningly at the winking light.

  'Sand on the tracks,' I said.

  Dune country. Sand so fine that even the thin winds of Mars could lift it. In motion, it looked like trailing smoke. As far as the eye could see there were gusts of it blowing, and here and there the rails had completely disappeared under the drifting sand.

  We moved in fits and starts, swiftly when the track looked clear, and very slowly, with our blowers whining and hissing, where there was sand. Altogether, about an hour and a half went by before, once again, the roadbed belonged to us.

  Halfway. And only a few minutes after ten o'clock. We were first. Jose slid open the door.

  'Go out?' he asked.

  'Sure.'

  We were on a rocky plain that was as crinkled as an old man's face, and almost the same grayish color. I watched Jose scramble over the rocks and head for a prominence a hundred yards away. It took stiff climbing in places, but he made it with apparent ease.

  I grew aware that Frank had come into the cab. I glanced at him; and he said with a sneer, 'Showing off to the big shots.'

  I hadn't thought of that. It could be true. Jose kenw that he was being tested, and that there was hostility toward him, not only from Frank Gray.

  There was a faint rumble in the distance, and then a shrill whistle. The Prairie Dog rounded the bend and bore down on us. Glittering in the sun, the long engine roared past, its thunder somewhat muffled by the thin air, as was the trailing clatter of its empty ore cars. When the train had passed, I saw that Frank was going back into the rod room, and Jose was climbing into the engine.

  I looked him over sharply. He was breathing heavily, and his cheeks were mottled. I wondered if it was entirely "from exertion. Our eyes met; -and he must have guessed why I was watching him, for he said quickly, 'It's all right, sefior. I feel fine.'

  I thought I detected a note of irony in his voice. I walked to the door, opened it, and then turned to him. 'Jose,' I said, 'you'll get an honest deal from me; I'm going back to the passenger car. You're on your own from now on in.'

  Jose looked startled. Then his strong jaw set and he said gravely, 'Thank you, sefior.'

  Wade and the other executives were astonished when I explained what I had done. But Barron, Earthside executive, nodded approval. 'After all,' he said, 'it's a fair test. Can he run a train on his own, or can't he?' He finished, 'We can always phone him to stop, and then send Bill back up to the engine.'

  His words were received in silence, and from the sullen expressions of the others I guessed that my action was unpopular. The silence continued while the train accelerated. I must have dozed in my chair, because I wakened with a start to realize that the car was shuddering and swaying. I took a look out of the window, and felt alarm as I saw how swiftly the desert was speeding by.

  I glanced around quickly. Three of the men were talking together in low tones; Wade was dozing, and Barron sat placidly smoking a cigar. He looked preoccupied.

  I climbed casually to my feet, walked to the phone and called the engine cab. After it had rung five times, I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I returned to my chair; and it seemed to me, as I glanced again out of the window, that the train had actually gained speed. I groaned inwardly, and, glancing up, saw that Wade;s shrewd brown eyes were studying me.

  'Isn't your man going a little fast?' he said.

  His assistant snapped angrily, 'Irresponsible, if you ask me!'

  Barron sighed, and looked at me gloomily. 'Ask him to slow down.'

  I went to the phone, and called Frank Gray. The phone rang three times, and then Frank's voice said lazily, 'Hello.'

  'Frank,' I said in a low tone, 'will you go up to the cab and ask Jose to slow down?'

  T can't hear you,' he said. 'What do you wan't?' I repeated my request, emphasizing the words but still trying to keep my voice down.

  Frank said irritably, 'Stop mumbling. I can't hear a word you're saying.'

  I had been feeling both sorry for, and angry with, Jose. But there's only so much you can do to help a man who's got himself into a difficult situation. Clearly, and without worrying about being overheard, I told Frank what I wanted. There was silence when I had finished. Then:

  'Go to hell' said Frank. 'It's not up to me.' He stuck to that, despite my arguments. I said finally, 'Just a minute!' And went back to the group. They listened in silence, and then Wade whirled on Barron. 'Look what you've done to us with that Indian of yours!' Barron chewed his cigar savagely, turned and stared out at the spinning landscape, and then said, 'Better order that rod-man to do what Bill said.'

  Wade came back presently from the phone. T had to give him permission to use force if necessary.'

  A few minutes later, we began to slow down. By that time, Barron was climbing into a pressure suit, and Wade had sent his executive assistant to get a suit for him. They exchanged caustic comments until the train finally came to a halt, Barron stubbornly clinging to the attitude that the defection of one Andean Indian didn't condemn all others. I led the way to the engine, and all I could think about was: What could have got into Jose?

  Frank opened the cab door for us. There was no sign of Jose as we climbed in. Frank explained, T found him lying on the floor here gasping for breath, so I put him in the rod room and built up a little pressure.' He added complacently, 'Nothing wrong with him that a little oxygen won't cure.'

  I looked at him for a long moment, fighting the suspicion in my mind. I said nothing, however, but made the necessary adjustments in pressure, and went into the rod room. I found Jose sitting on a chair. He looked at me miserably, but shrugged at my question. I said earnestly, 'Jose, I want you to forget that pride of yours, and tell me exactly what happened.'

  He said unhappily, 'I became dizzy, and I had a feeling like bursting. Then I do not know what happened.'

  'Why did you speed up the train?'

  He blinked at me, his dark eyes wide and uncomprehending. 'Senor,' he said at last, 'I do not remember.'

  'My guess,' said Frank from behind me, 'is that we ran into a low pressure area, and as far as he was concerned it was the last straw.'

  I shook my head. I was remembering how Jose had matched my vision early that morning, and remembering also the way he had climbed the hill at Halfway. The stamina he had displayed in those two incidents wouldn't have yielded to a slight change in atmospheric pressure. Also, the cab doors were closed. Since they were nearly airtight, the pressure inside the cab would hardly be that sensitive to temporary changes outside.

  I turned and looked at Frank. He stared back at me defiantly. Twice, I started to speak, but each time I remembered how long we'd been friends, and remained silent. Over his shoulder, I saw that Barron was examining the air pressure gauges and controls for the inside of the engine. He walked over to Wade and spoke in a low voice that sounded grim. The vice-president kept shaking his head, and ended the conversation by going over to Frank. He held out his hand.

  'Mr Gray,' he said in a too-loud voice, T want to thank you for saving us from being wrecked. Just remember, I'm behind you all the way.'

  Barron was tugging at my arm. I went with him out into the cab. He said quietly, 'Is it possible to control the air pressure in the cab from the rod room?'

  Since he could have obtained that information from other sources, I didn't hesitate. 'Yes,' I said.

  Barron went on, 'Did the Indian show any signs of oxygen starvation in your presence?'

  'None.'

  'Have you any idea whether your rod-man is hostile to this notion of bringing in the Indians?'

  T have no idea,' I said. I looked at my watch. 'But I think we'd better get going. We're forty-three minutes late.'

  Underway again, I left Jos6 at the throttle, and stepped into the rod room. Frank was adjusting temperatures, and I waited patiently till the gauge readings balanced. Then he looked at me. I said, 'Pretty smart.'

  He didn't deny it. 'It's now or never,' he said, 'Then you admit you reduced the air pressure on Jose?'

  His tanned face grinned at me through the transparent visor of his suit. T admit nothing,' he said, 'but I'm going to wreck that little buzzard's plans if it's the last thing I ever do. And I have an idea I'll get all the backing I need.'

  I tried to make him see that if there were any human beings at all who could live on Mars without artifice, then no one could fairly deny them the right to do so.

  'Call him a human being?' Frank sneered.

  I stared at him, and in that moment my feeling of friendship disappeared. I said very slowly, 'If you bother him again on duty, I'll take it out of your hide.'

  Frank looked at me sullenly, 'I've been wondering just where you stood,' he said. 'Thanks for telling me.'

  For an hour we rolled along through a rock-strewn wasteland, and then we came to an area of low hills and green sheets of canal ice. I was telling Jose that the toughest part of the run was over when the red light began to blink.

  He looked at me. 'Sand?'

  I shook my head, frowning. 'Not here. Something must be on the tracks, or crossing them.'

  It was a sand lizard, eighteen feet of senseless scarlet and yellow monstrosity. It had caught its leg under the track between two ties. All the beast had to do to free itself was to cease pulling forward, but it was too moronic for that.

  Wade phoned me, but lost interest as soon as I explained why we'd stopped. 'You know how to handle them,' he said. And rang off.

  I knew the technique, all right, but I wasn't happy about it. I explained to Jose that men who hunted the creature wore an over-suit of the super-resistant material we'd picked up at the beginning of our trip. It provided protection against a casual slash, though even it was not much help in a direct attack. In an emergency, safety lay behind the creature. Out of sight with it was out of mind.

  Frank Gray sauntered out into the cab. He shook his head when I suggested that he and I help the lizard to free itself. He said, 'That thing lives off a particularly tough cactus. It's got teeth you could cut rock with.' He finished satirically, 'Joe's the man to do the job. If his suit gets torn, it won't do him any harm '

  Jose picked up a crowbar. 'Where is this over-suit, senor?'

  'We carry extras,' I said reluctantly. 'I'll go with you.'

  The over-suits covered us completely up to the neck. Above that, my own rigid vitrolite helmet offered me further protection. Jose had only his thickly insulated cap. If his people became permanent fixtures hereabouts, they'd have to make provision for such encounters as this.

  I took a long oil gun from the tool box, and we climbed out of the cab. As it saw us approaching, the lizard turned its fiery head, and watched us. But it kept straining steadily forward.

  I squirted oil into its fathomless blue eyes. Then the two of us prodded it from its left side, its right side and from behind. In response, the lizard hissed with its tongue, and made a rattling sound with its throat. But it continued to tug forward in that idiotic fashion.

  The sun sagged toward mid-afternoon. Patiently Jose and I kept poking at the beast until, finally, some mental circuit seemed to close inside its brain. It ceased its forward movement. Hissing, it turned as if to come after us.

  Its leg slipped easily and naturally from under the track. And it was free.

  'Jose!' I yelled. 'Get behind it.'

  The footing wasn't too good in the shifting sand, and Jose moved a little awkwardly. Four inch talons whipped the air so close to his cheek that I held my breath. Then he was behind the creature, which stopped turning, evidently having forgotten his existence.

  The last we saw of it, it was laboriously climbing over a rock - instead of around it - and heading away from the tracks.

  As we turned back toward the engine, there was a swish and a clank, and the long train moved toward us. I caught sight of Frank Gray high in the cab sitting at the controls. He waved mockingly as the powerful locomotive glided past us, gathering speed with every yard.

  I grabbed at the handrail as it swept by, caught hold, and hung on with everything I had. Grimly, I reached for the next rung - just as the cab door above me slid open. Frank bent down and with a long wrench banged me on the fingers. Despite the protection of my heavy gloves, the instant pain and numbness broke my hold. Wildly, I grabbed at the rung below with my other hand.

  Frank knelt, and swung his wrench again. This time he missed, but he drew sparks from the metal. I'd had enough, however. I couldn't let him cripple my other hand. It might send me under the wheels. Before he could strike again, I lowered my feet to the ground, started running, and let go.

  I pitched headlong into the gravel of the roadbed. The cushion of air in my pressure suit saved me from serious injury. But I was gasping as I scrambled shakily to my feet. My plan was to swing aboard the ore car, but as I fell in beside the train, running as swiftly in my bulky clothing as I could, I realized the train was going too fast. I was about to give up when a hand like iron grabbed the scruff of my neck.

  'Seftor, run!'

  I ran till the salt of my exhaustion was in my mouth, until I could hardly see because of the tears in my eyes. I fumbled blindly for a rung of the ore car ladder to which Jos6 was clinging.

  With his clutch supporting most of my weight, I caught the rung; and presently we lay on top of the car gasping for breath.

  I stood up, still shaky. T don't know what that buzzard is up to,' I said, when I could speak again, 'but we're going into the passenger car, and sit it out.'

  Our sudden appearance caused a minor sensation. I explained briefly what had happened, then picked up the phone and called the engine. It rang three times, and the line went dead. Since all power on the train was supplied by the locomotive, it seemed evident that Frank had cut the telephone system. His purpose was obvious - to prevent us from calling Marsopolis, our destination.

  Silently, I cursed my stupidity for not having called there first. Frank might not have thought of it in time to stop me.

  An official was shrugging. 'He's behaving very foolishly. He can hardly wreck the train without danger to himself. All we have to do is sit tight.'

  A sudden thought struck me. I went to the gauge panel. The pressure was a full pound low, and the temperature was down slightly. I turned to the others, frowning.

  T hate to say this, but I'm afraid he's cut the power for our air conditioning.'

  Philip Barron looked pale, but his eyes were steady. 'How long?'

  'Not more than an hour,' I said. 'We could stand the cold, but we'll all pass out if the pressure drops much more than half - all except Jose, that it.'

  There was a grim silence. Then Barron glanced at Jose musingly, and said, 'Yes, there is you. I suppose Gray figures it'll be his word against that of an Indian. The arrogant fool! Of course we could all sign a statement as to what actually happened, and leave it with you - '

 

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