And these three cannisters actually contained beam refuse gas under standard pressure—they'd have to, in order to pass the minute inspection made at the regional border.
But the shell of a Martian is one of the most impermeable armors ever developed by organic evolution, and when quiescent he can go upwards for an hour without breathing. This is because he is built for an extremely rarified atmosphere—his physiology is typical of a depleted-planet economy. On Mars his inhalation/exhalation ratio is about 100/1. The chief problem in acclimitizing him to Earth is teaching him to inhale as infrequently as he exhales—otherwise oxygen-drowning occurs. A Martian's lungs are really oxygen accumulators. He has 100 per cent utilization of inhaled oxygen, and he exhales pure carbon dioxide freighted with other respiratory excretions—hence the "bad breath" so obnoxious to human beings.
With a jaunty wave of his hand, Len crawled off and the search moved inside the building. Scat stayed with them to make sure nothing was overlooked. But Piggie, recovered, maintained with sullen headshakes that she no longer felt the presence of Ten Mile bugs, and after that the guards lost interest. Scat could tell that they were puzzling as to how he'd smuggled out the bugs while they were getting the warrant—for undoubtedly there'd been Kemmerdygn spies watching the Newsbeam building to prevent just such a move.
Afterwards Scat said to Click-Click, "I was a little worried when they took your pincher-prints."
"Anticipated," the Martian coded laconically. "I removed the forgeries, but since I have the casts they can easily be replaced. At first I thought of letting the guards pick me up here, but that would be too suspicious."
"It's going to be suspicious wherever it happens," said Scat, shaking his head. "In any case, you won't be able to pass bug-finder identification. Don't do it, Click-Click."
"You told Len to drop in at the Free Martian offices and fetch a Martian to replace me?"
"You're bound and determined then?"
"Yes."