We work early and breakfasted on the oatmeal we had left to soak overnight beside the dying fire. The sun had not yet risen, and the sky above the plain was a deep, dark blue. Only a few stars were visible: dim pinpricks in the fading darkness. I pulled on my boots - knocking them against a nearby rock to dislodge anything that had crawled into them overnight - and ladled out a portion of the lukewarm oatmeal into my billy can.
"So?" I asked Martin. "What's the plan for today?"
Martin stirred the ashes of the camp fire, turning them into glowing embers. "Same as yesterday. See how much ground we can cover before sunset."
The oatmeal was still half-raw, and it left a glutinous coating of mush and hard flakes on my tongue. I took a swig of water to rinse out my mouth and swallowed the residue. "How long have we got until we have to get to the rendezvous?"
"If we're not there by noon tomorrow, then we'll have flunked this part of the course."
"Noon." I scratched at the stubble on my jaw - it itched abominably after two days without the touch of a razor. "They don't make this easy, do they?"
"Look, be grateful they let us have the map," Martin replied. "It could be worse. The next exercise will likely be without rations."
"Yeah." I tossed the remnants of the oatmeal into the darkness. "If you can't take a joke ... ."
"Then you shouldn't have signed up for astronaut training." Martin finished off the sentence and laughed.
I pulled my survival jacket close around me. "There's one good thing about being an astronaut, though."
Martin looked up from stowing his gear in his backpack. "What's that?"
I looked up into the sky, searching for something familiar, then gestured at a point of light that had risen above the horizon. "I don't need a compass to find my way."
Martin hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, then jiggled it until it had settled comfortably into place. "Let's get going then."
