it.

It grew dark fast. As Shaan lay relaxed on the floor of his new haven, he heard a scurrying and a squeaking in the darkness. Then there came a muted splashing near him.

Shaan held his breath. He had no idea of the size or capabilities of the creatures which had joined him in the cactus. But if they were aware of his presence they had no fear of him. Nor did they molest him.

He saw them for a few moments early the next morning. They were furry, squirrel-like creatures without tails, that ran on their two hind legs and held hand-like paws against their chests. They stared at him with big bright eyes, about half a dozen of them, before they ran out through the hole he had enlarged.

Living in the cactus was more satisfactory than living outside. Shaan made it his headquarters. He slept in it at night, amid the furry animals, which accepted his presence without question, merely avoiding any close approach.

By day, he crawled out in search of the dome. He did it systematically, going in a different direction each day. He tried sixteen directions without success.

A day just wasn't long enough. The second two-day trip he made, going out one day, sleeping out and returning the second day, he saw the sun flash off a faraway plastic dome at midafternoon.

Shaan pushed his face through the leaves and stared across a hundred-foot cleared space at the dome. The canal sage was very efficient. When the space had been cleared for the dome, the sage foliage had grown down to the ground level around the bare circle to prevent the life-giving oxygen under it from dissipating.

The transparent hemisphere glistened dully in the sunlight. It covered about an acre of ground. Near one side was the small home of a canal settler. Under the protective dome terrestrial vegetables grew and terrestrial animals lived.

Long ago Shaan had jettisoned his oxygen cylinders to save weight, but they would have done him no good had he kept them. His marshelmet, however, would hold enough air for him to cross the cleared area to the dome. He pulled it on, under the leaves.

Then he remembered something and took it off again. He smeared dirt over the brand on his forehead, hoping he was concealing it. He put the helmet back on.

Getting to his feet, he ran across the clearing 

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