“Any of the other boys getting it?”

“No. It’s ’way out of the ecliptic and’ll keep on going forever. That’s not what bothers me so much. It was only an inner shell.

But I hate to tell you how many tons of propulsion I wasted getting up speed and then getting back to station. You should have heard Canute.”

Canute was Richard Swenson’s brother and partner.

“Mad, huh?” said Rioz.

“Mad? Like to have killed me! But then we’ve been out five months now and it’s getting kind of sticky. You know.”

“I know.”

“How are you doing, Mario?”

Rioz made a spitting gesture. “About that much this trip. Two shells in the last two weeks and I had to chase each one for six hours.”

“Big ones?”

“Are you kidding? I could have scaled them down to Phobos by hand. This is the worst trip I’ve ever had.”

“How much longer are you staying?”

“For my part, we can quit tomorrow. We’ve only been out two months and it’s got so I’m chewing Long out all the time.”

There was a pause over and above the electromagnetic lag.

Swenson said, “What’s he like, anyway? Long, I mean.”

Rioz looked over his shoulder. He could hear the soft, crackly mutter of the video in the galley. “I can’t make him out. He says to me about a week after the start of the trip, ‘Mario, why are you a Scavenger?’ I just look at him and say, ‘To make a living. Why do you suppose?’ I mean, what the hell kind of a question is that? Why is anyone a Scavenger?

“Anyway, he says, ‘That’s not it, Mario.’ He’s telling me, you see. He says, ‘You’re a Scavenger because this is part of the Martian way.’”

Swenson said, “And what did he mean by that?”

Rioz shrugged. “I never asked him. Right now he’s sitting in there listening to the ultra-microwave from Earth. He’s listening to some Grounder called Hilder.”

“Hilder? A Grounder politician, an Assemblyman or something, isn’t he?”