The occupants of two other landing pods had already reached the installation and were pulling tractors with high, wide wheels out of hemispherical sheds. Cadets under the direction of project leaders were heading back to the pods to begin hauling in the provisions. The rest were given chores to do to ready the installation once more for human occupancy. Spence, Adjani, and Packer entered the bomb-shelter entrance of the barracks and made their way through the tube to the air lock and to the installation's nerve center.

Packer took off his helmet and inhaled deeply. "Ahh! Smell that fresh air! It comes from the greenhouses."

Spence took his helmet off as Packer waved his hand over a console set in the wall near the air lock. Lights winked on in a ring around the circular room. Overhead a shield peeled away to allow sunlight to enter and warm the interior of the sunken sphere. "All the conveniences of home," said Packer.

"If your home happens to be Antarctica," quipped Adjani.

"Think of it! In a few years this whole area will be nothing but greenhouses as far as the eye can see. We'll turn this place into a jungle of life-careful, of course, to introduce only the most beneficial of plants and organisms. The place will be a paradise."

"It's too late," said Spence. "You're here already."

"Look what you've done to him, Adjani! He's as bad as you are. Why am I treated like this? What have I done to deserve it?"

He broke off his wounded-elephant act to direct them around the cavernous interior of the living unit. "Come on, I'll show you where to hang your hats."

Spence glanced at the wall console where a crimson signal had bloomed in one corner. "Does that red light mean anything?

"What's that? Oh, that one. It's a meteorological signal. Must be a special weather report coming in." He keyed a code on the console's pad. The data screen lit up green and began scrolling sentences.

"There's a Simoom blowing up near the equator. It could reach us by tomorrow morning. We'll have to stay inside a few days at least and keep the shields up."

"A Simoom?"

"A storm-wind and sand. A sandstorm such as you've never seen before. It's like a gigantic sandblaster. Winds up to four hundred and eighty kilometers an hour. If anyone were to wander out there in that-why, you'd be erased in seconds! Provided you weren't blown clean away first."

"Incredible," said Adjani. He looked around at the superstructure of the building.

"Don't worry," laughed Packer. "These structure are windtunnel tested and the shields can withstand anything short of a direct nuclear attack. We're safe enough inside. We just have to stay undercover until it blows itself out." …

BY NIGHT FALL ALL THE provisions and equipment frames were stored away and the barracks hummed with life; the interior of the dome resembled an ant colony. They ate a common meal and then split off into their work groups to begin mapping out the tasks for the following days. Spence and Adjani, without any direct assignment, stole away to the director's lounge to relax and talk.

Spence noticed that Adjani had stuck close to him since they landed and even now regarded him with a watchful eye.

"Do you think the Dream Thief will try something tonight?" he asked as Adjani came to stand beside him. He gazed down at a holographic map of the Martian landscape encompassing the region thirty kilometers in a circle around the installation.

"I was thinking how great the mountain is-Olympus Mons. Twice the size of Everest. Why? Do you feel something?"

"No, but you've been my shadow ever since we landed; I wondered if there was a reason."

Spence recalled the conversation between them and the plan they had agreed upon. He was to alert Adjani the moment he felt anything at all peculiar beginning to happen to him. Adjani would then take whatever steps were necessary to prevent Spence from doing any bodily injury to himself. It was a simple plan, but it would have to do until they returned to Gotham to begin tracking down the cause of Spence's troubles.

Adjani gazed down at the holomap. "Sinai-the desert of Moses. Here we are, wanderers in an alien wilderness, searching for a home in a foreign land. History repeats itself once more, eh?"

"I wonder if this place has a god, too?"

"Spence-" Adjani turned a solemn face to him. "You asked me if I thought the Dream Thief would come again tonight. The answer is yes, I do think so. He has left you alone during the trip, but I think it likely he will try to reach you. We must presume he will try tonight."

It was true, Spence had not been bothered by the dreams or blackouts since leaving Gotham. He had begun to feel that by leaving he had escaped altogether. Adjani's mention of trouble struck a raw nerve.

"You don't think I'm safe even here?"

"No, my friend. You will not be safe until the Dream Thief is stopped."

"At least you Believe he con be stopped. I was never so certain."

"Of course he can be stopped. But we must keep you safe until we find the way. And remember, if I am right in my assumptions yours is not the only life in danger. Others may depend on what happens to you. We must keep you safe."

23

… SPENCE STUMBLED DOGGEDLY ACROSS a rocky, alien landscape. Over his shoulder Deimos, a beautiful, serene blue-white globe, rose full in the black sky. Spence winced in pain as needlelike shards of tiny cinders sliced the flesh from his knees. Blood bubbled from the minute tear in his surface suit.

He shivered and wrapped his arms across his chest for warmth. Staring down at his feet he saw that he stood on a barren ledge of rock, red in the glow of the rising sun. Around him lay diamonds glittering with an icy glare. With a shock he realized that they were his tears, frozen where they had fallen upon the bare rock. He raised his hands, replaced his helmet once more, and continued walking.

How long he walked or how far he did not know. High overhead white wisps of clouds like tattered veils raced through a black sky, blown on the winds of the coming storm to disappear beyond the rim of the horizon. He heard the howl of the wind as it roared through the emptiness above. He wanted to run, to see where the fragile white clouds went. But as he stirred himself, a heaviness sapped his strength. His legs would not obey. He leaned into it, felt himself pushed back as by a great hand, and realized it was the wind. Each step dragged more slowly than the last. He looked around him and saw red sand beginning to run in hissing snakes around him, blown on the gusting wind.

He crawled to the top of a nearby dune and toppled over the other side into the wind shadow. He felt himself sliding down and down. He struggled to rise to his feet as the dry red sand sucked at his limbs. The sand rattled down on him from the crest of the dune as the wind whipped it into a stinging fury. He sank back, too cold and tired to move. The sand pelted down on him in a steady rain, burying him beneath a fine red blanket.

He screamed and his voice rang hollow in his ears. He looked and saw that he was trapped in a great glass bubble-the bubble of his helmet, now beginning to frost over on the inside from the warmth of his breath.

The sand seemed to fall out of the black sky, burying him alive. He felt the gritty sting as it pelted against his surface suit. He heard faintly the dry, bristling hiss as it struck his helmet.

He screamed again and heard the awesome ring of silence and knew that his cries could not be heard beyond his helmet. His teeth chattered with the cold which dragged him down into a lazy stupor. He was drifting to sleep. Sleep, his last great enemy, had conquered him. …

SPENCE CAME TO SLOWLY, by degrees, his senses slug gish as if he had been drugged. A bright light filled his eyes so that he squinted to keep it out. When it did not go away he opened his eyes and looked around.