By the eleventh day after leaving the sandcar, the traces were almost rich enough for panning. The sandwolves were tracking him still, and his water was almost gone. Another day's march would finish him.
Morrison thought for a moment, then unstrapped his telephone and dialed Public Utility in Venusborg.
The video screen showed a stern, severely dressed woman with iron-gray hair. "Public Utility," she said. "May we be of service?"
"Hi," Morrison said cheerfully. "How's the weather in Venusborg?"
"Hot," the woman said. "How's it out there?"
"I hadn't even noticed," Morrison said, grinning. "Too busy counting my fortune."
"You've found goldenstone?" the woman asked, her expression becoming less severe.
"Sure have," Morrison said. "But don't pass the word around yet. I'm still staking my claim. I think I can use a refill on these."
Smiling easily, he held up his canteens. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes, if you showed enough confidence, Public Utility would fill you up without checking your account. True, it was embezzling, but this was no time for niceties.
"I suppose your account is in order?" asked the woman.