Then he remembered. Maya had no marshelmet!
Appalled, struck to the heart, he turned in his tracks.
Maya was standing behind him, calmly trying to rearrange her raven hair, tangled by the raging rush of wind.
"What's the matter?" she asked quietly, becoming aware of Dark's intent gaze.
"Maya! You don't have a helmet on! Are you breathing?"
She was silent for a moment, apparently examining herself.
"Why, no, I don't believe I am," she replied, just as calmly.
"How can you ...? Wait a minute!"
Dark sent his mind into the invisible. His probing thoughts fled over desert and lowland, seeking. They found the Martian, Qril, and he recognized that Qril responded immediately.
Qril, how is it that Maya is able to live in the Martian atmosphere without breathing? asked Dark telepathically.