sandwich and clamored hungrily for more. In those days news from Mars took priority. The New York bureau of Universal News was explicit about wanting full coverage—and pictures.

And this was where Deborah Wayne first came into the picture—unfortunately. Deborah was a nice girl, a bright girl, and brilliant with her super-speed, super-sensitive cameras. But I think, now, that the psychologist who screened her for that career was drunk. She was supposed to be ready to cope with the rigors and exigencies of the frontier. But in the showdown she turned out to be a sentimental slob who all but got us kicked off Mars.

I didn't think about Debby when the news first broke. I might never have thought of her myself, but the New York bureau did. When their orders came in on the Spacetron, the message link between Earth and Marsport, I was alone in our office with Charley Ray of Galactic News. I read him the tape as it came off the machine.

QUOTE PROSTEVELASKER EXWILSON COLON UNPICKLE SELF AND SUBQUOTE TALENT UNSUBQUOTE FOR FULLEST DISASTER COVERAGE WITH PICTURES PERIOD OFFER WAYNE BONUS IF DANGEROUS PERIOD REQUIRE LEAD FOR BLUELINE CASTS AND FULLEST UL BACKGROUNDING END UNQUOTE

"And where do you suppose Debby is?" Charley said. "To think I could have forgotten her!"

"Debby!" I said. "Pictures!" I was thinking that the insatiable human glut for horror and tragedy was a pretty sad and unchanging constant in our Earth civilization.

"They want a real production," I said bitterly. "With a gallon count on the blood running in the streets."

"And you get paid for counting it accurately," Charley said. "We got an hour. Feel noble when we're comfortable. And on our way. With Debby. I won't go without her. Mad about the girl."

"Mad," I agreed. "You'd better call our office and then check with Ferne's office on which crate we get to ride in. While I try to locate that two-legged witch."

Kibby came in. He was relief man and almost always shrouded in an alcoholic fog from which the cleanest, clearest prose emerged. He nodded at us, noticed we were looking less bored than usual and picked up the tape for the answer. He groaned. "You mean I have to work this morning? With this head? Background on Ul! The rockpile of Mars."

"Yop," I told him. "SOS came in a couple of hours ago to the communications center. Galactic and 

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