"No, too many of us haven't had enough sleep," said Leicester, dragging himself up again from what looked like a painful doze. "Look who's talking--and half my crew are in the same shape. I'm going to order everybody but half a dozen watchmen to sleep tonight. Tomorrow, except for basic work crews, we'll dismiss everyone for the memorial services for the dead; and there's a lot of inventorying to do, and salvage work. Start--oh, two, three days from now. Any preference about a medical officer?"

"May I have Ewen Ross if the chief can spare him?"

"I's okay by me'" Leicester said, and sagged again, evidently for a split second asleep where he sat. MacAran said a soft, "Thank you, sir," and turned away. Camilla Del Rey laid a hand, a feather's touch, on his arm.

"Don't you dare judge him," she said is a low, furious voice, "he's been on his feet since two days before the crash on a steady diet of wakers, and he's too old for that! I'm going to see he gets 24 hours straight sleep if I have to shut down the whole camp!"

Leicester pulled himself up again. "--wasn't asleep," he said firmly. "Anything else, MacAran, Lovat?"

MacAran said a respectful, "No, sir," and slipped quietly away, leaving the Captain to his rest, his First Officer standing over him like-the image touched his mind in shock---a fiercely maternal tiger over her cub. Or over the old lion? And why did he care anyhow?

Too much of the passenger section was either flooded with fire-prevention foam, or oil-slick and dangerous; for that reason, Captain Leicester had given orders that all members of the expedition to the mountain were to be issued surface uniforms, the warm, weatherproof garments meant for spaceship personnel to wear on visiting the surface of an alien planet. They had been told to be ready just after sunrise, and they were ready, shouldering their rucksacks of rations, scientific equipment, makeshift campout gear. MacAran stood waiting for Camilla Del Rey, who was giving final instructions to a crewman from the bridge.

"These times for sunrise and sunset are as exact as we can get them, and you have exact azimuth readings for the direction of sunrise. We may have to estimate noon. But every night, at sunset, shine the strongest light in the ship in this direction, and leave it on for exactly ten minutes. That way we can run a line of direction to where we're going, and establish due east and west. You already know about the noon angle readings."

She turned and saw MacAran standing behind her. She said, with composure, "Am I keeping you waiting? I'm sorry, but you must understand the necessity for accurate readings."

"I couldn't agree more," MacAran said, "and why ask me? You outrank everybody in this party, don't you, ma'am?"

She lifted her delicate eyebrows at him. "Oh, is that what's worrying you? As a matter of fact, no. Only on the bridge. Captain Leicester put you in charge of this party, and believe me, I'm quite content with that. I probably know as much about mountaineering as you do about celestial navigation--if as much. I grew up in the Alpha colony, and you know what the deserts are like there."

MacAran felt considerably relieved--and perversely annoyed. This woman was just too damned perceptive! Oh, yes, it would minimize tensions if he didn't have to ask her as a superior officer to pass along any orders-or suggestions--about the trip. But the fact remained that somehow she'd managed to make him feel officious, blundering and like a damn fool!

"Well," he said, "any time you're ready We've got a good long way to go, over some fairly rough ground. So let's get this show on the road:"

He moved away toward where the rest of the group stood gathered, mentally taking stock. Ewen Ross was carrying a good part of Camilla Del Rey's astronomical equipment, since, as he admitted, his medical kit was only a light weight. Heather Stuart, wrapped like the others in surface uniform, was talking to him in low tones, and MacAran thought wryly that it must be love, when your girl got up at this unholy hour to see you off. Dr. Judith Lovat, short and sturdy, had an assortment of small sample cases buckled together over her shoulder. He did not know the other two who were waiting in uniform, and before they moved off, he walked around to face them.

"We've seen each other in the recreation rooms, but I don't think I know you. You are--"

The first man, a tall, hawk-nosed, swarthy man in his middle thirties, said, "Marco Zabal, Xenobotanist. I'm coming at Dr. Lovat's request. I'm used to mountains. I grew up in the Basque country, and I've been on expeditions to the Himalayas."

"Glad to have you." MacAran shook his hand. It would help to have someone else along who knew mountains. "And your?"

"Lewis MacLeod. Zoologist, veterinary specialist."

"Crew member or colonist?"

"Colonist." MacLeod grinned briefly. He was small, fat, and fair-skinned. "And before you ask, no, no formal mountaineering experience--but I grew up in the Scottish Highlands, and even in this day and age, you still have to walk a good ways to get anywhere, and there's more vertical country around than horizontal"

MacAran said, "Well, that's a help. And now that we're all together--Ewen, kiss your girl goodbye and let's get moving."

Heather laughed softly, turning and putting back the hood of the uniform--she was a small girl, slight and delicately made, and she looked even smaller in some larger woman's uniform--"Come off it, Rafe. I'm going with you. I'm a graduate microbiologist, and I'm here to collect samples for the Medic Chief."

"But--" MacAran frowned in confusion. He could understand why Camilla had to come--she was better qualified for the job than any man. And Dr. Lovat, perhaps, understandably felt concerned. He said' "I asked for men on this trip. It's some mighty rough ground." He looked at Ewen for support, but the younger man only laughed.

"Do I have to read you the Terran Bill of Rights? No law shall be made or formulated abridging the rights of any human being to equal work regardless of racial origin, religion or sex--"

"Oh, damn it, don't you spout Article Four at me," MacAran muttered. "If Heather wants to wear out her shoe leather and you want to let her, who am I to argue the point?" He still suspected Ewen of arranging it. Hell of a way to start a trip! And here he'd been, despite the serious purpose of this mission, excited about actually having a chance to climb an unexplored mountain--only to discover that he had to drag along, not only a female crew member--who at least looked hardy and in good training-but Dr. Lovat, who might not be old but certainly wasn't as young and vigorous as he could have wished, and the delicate-looking Heather. He said' "Well, let's get going," and hoped he didn't sound as glum as he felt.

He lined them up, leading the way, placing Dr. Lovat and Heather immediately behind him with Ewen so that he would know if the pace he set was too hard for them, Camilla next with MacLeod, and the mountain-trained Zabal to bring up the rear. As they moved away from the ship and through the small clutter of roughly-made buildings and shelters, the great red sun began to lift above the line of faraway hills, like an enormous, inflamed, bloodshot eye. Fog lay thick in the bowl of land where the ship lay, but as they began to climb up out of the valley it thinned and shredded, and in spite of himself' MacAran's spirits began to lift. It was, after all, no small thing to be leading a party of exploration' perhaps the only party of exploration for hundreds of years, on a wholly new planet.

They walked in silence; there was plenty to see. As they reached the lip of the valley, MacAran paused and waited for them to come up with him.