ip takes off in an hour. Ought to have one more
drink first."

Clayton realized he didn't like Parks. But maybe he'd buy a bottle.

Sharkie Johnson worked in Fuels Section, and he made a nice little
sideline of stealing alcohol, cutting it, and selling it. He thought it
was real funny to call it Martian Gin.

Clayton said: "Let's go over to Sharkie's. Sharkie will sell us a
bottle."

"Okay," said Parks. "We'll get a bottle. That's what we need: a bottle."

It was quite a walk to the Shark's place. It was so cold that even Parks
was beginning to sober up a little. He was laughing like hell when
Clayton started to sing.

"We're going over to the Shark's
To buy a jug of gin for Parks!
Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho!"

One thing about a few drinks; you didn't get so cold. You didn't feel it
too much, anyway.

* * * * *

The Shark still had his light on when they arrived. Clayton whispered to
Parks: "I'll go in. He knows me. He wouldn't sell it if you were around.
You got eight credits?"

"Sure I got eight credits. Just a minute, and I'll give you eight
credits." He fished around for a minute inside his parka, and pulled
out his notecase. His gloved fingers were a little clumsy, but he
managed to get out a five and three ones and hand them to Clayton.

"You wait out here," Clayton said.

He went in through the outer door and knocked on the inner one. He
should have asked for ten credits. Sharkie only charged five, and that
would leave him three for himself. But he could have got ten--maybe
more.

When he came out with the bottle, Parks was sitting on a rock,
shivering.

"Jeez-krise!" he said. "It's cold out here. Let's get to someplace where
it's warm."

"Sure. I got the bottle. Want a drink?"

Parks took the bottle, opened it, and took a good belt out of it.

"Hooh!" he breathed. "Pretty smooth."

As Clayton drank, Parks said: "Hey! I better get back to the field! I
know! We can go to the men's room and finish the bottle before the ship
takes off! Isn't that a good idea? It's warm there."

They started back down the street toward the spacefield.

"Yep, I'm from Indiana. Southern part, down around Bloomington," Parks
said. "Gimme the jug. Not Bloomington, Illinois--Bloomington, Indiana.
We really got green hills down there." He drank, and handed the bottle
back to Clayton. "Pers-nally, I don't see why anybody'd stay on Mars.
Here y'are, practic'ly on the equator in