take their
gymnastics seriously, especially if they want to keep their figures
with the work they must do and the food they must eat. I am stronger
than you and I will hurt you unless--" And her hand tightened around
his scrawny arm until her knuckles showed white.

"Wear what you have and go," the man pleaded, and moaned softly when
Sophia released his numb arm and strode through the portal, still
drawing whistles and leers from the other men, who missed the by-play
completely.

* * * * *

"So we're on Mars!"

"It ain't Nowhere after all, it's Mars."

"Wait and see, buster. Wait and see."

"Kind of cold, isn't it? Well, if this was Venus and some of them
beautiful one-armed dames was waiting for us--"

"That's just a statue, stupid."

"Lookit all them people down there, will you?"

"You think they're Martians?"

"Stupid! We ain't the first ones went on the Nowhere Journey."

"What are we waiting for? It sure will feel good to stretch your
legs."

"Let's go!"

"Look out, Mars, here I come!"

It would have been just right for a Hollywood epic, Temple thought.
The rusty ochre emptiness spreading out toward the horizon in all
directions, spotted occasionally with pale green and frosty white, the
sky gray with but a shade of blue in it, distant gusts of Martian wind
swirling ochre clouds across the desert, the spaceship poised on its
ungainly bottom, a great silver bowling ball with rocket tubes for
finger holes, and the Martians from Earth who had been here on this
alien world for seven-hundred-eighty days or twice seven-eighty or
three times, and who fought in frenzied eagerness, like savages, to
reach the descending gangplank first.

Earth chorus: Hey, Martians, any of you guys speak English? Hah-ha, I
said, any of you guys....

Where are all them canals I heard so much about?

You think maybe they're dangerous? (Laughter)

No dames. Hey, no dames....

Who were you expecting, Donna Daunley?

What kind of place is Mars with no women?

What do they do here, anyway, just sit around and wait for the next
rocket?

I'm cold.

Get used to it, brother, get used to it.

Look out, Mars, here I come!

Martian chorus: Who won the Series last year, Detroit?

Hey, bud, tell me, are dames still wearing those one piece things, all
colors, so you see their legs up to about here and their chests down
to about here? (Gestures lewdly)

Which one of you guys can tell me wh