"Yes, that part's all right. I got to the ship and contacted headquarters. I think they're going to deliver the ultimatum right away. Now we just wait for orders. The only thing is, the sandcat's power went dead on me while I was halfway down a hill. It started to roll, and I forgot I was wearing a spacesuit. I jumped out. This low gravity fooled me too. I think I've broken my ankle, it hurts like hell."
The tall man cursed in a low voice.
"All right, all right," he said after a moment. "Just take it easy. I'll have to come out and get you."
"I think the sandcat is all right. Stupid of me to jump like that, wasn't thinking. Better bring a spare battery with you.... Oh, and you'd better bring a light too. It will be getting dark in another half hour."
"Okay, just wait for me. I'll home in on your suit radio."
The tall man switched off the receiver and went to his own suit locker. Martin Devere watched as he removed the holster and weapon from his hip. He pulled the heavy plastic trousers over his denim jumper and then buckled the gun back again before starting on the rest of the spacesuit.
"Nothing serious, I hope?" Martin Devere put the ceramic down carefully and picked up another object from a stack of artifacts.
"You heard, didn't you? You any good at setting a broken ankle, Pop?"
"Oh, I could manage, I guess. Broke my arm down in the diggings once. Had to set it myself. Twenty years ago, I think it was. I've been more careful since then." He gave a laugh. It started as a normal laugh, then broke to a senile giggle. Then his face was serious again. He carried the new artifact closer to the man with the gun.
"You know, I was telling you.... The Martians were vegetarians. They never made any weapons for hunting. They did know about explosives, though."