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He crawled over the surface in the same way that an Alpine climber might crawl up the side of a steep slope seeking handholds and toeholds and using them to propel himself onward. The only difference was that he covered distance a great deal more rapidly than a mountain climber could. When he reached the spot he wanted, he carefully concealed himself beneath a craggy overhang.
He and Maya scurried, transiting sparks of the only life, insecure and hastening in the absence of the net of roads which eventually would bind the Martian surface to human reality from the toeholds of the dome cities. In that opposite world which was the other side of the groundcar's seat, Maya Cara Nome's opaque black eyes struggled against the surface.
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