 How many caves had Garmon and Rolf traveled through before their crash?
Sisko Rolf's stocky body was a blur of motion as he cut the rocket jets, doused the twin searchlights, and switched over to the audio beams that served so well on the surface when blind flying was in order. But here in the cavern world, thirty-seventh in the linked series of vast caves that underlie the waterless wastes of Mars, the reflected waves of sound were of little value. Rolf swung the lax controls over hard as the bursts of fire revealed a looming barrier of stone dead ahead, and then he felt the tough skin of the flyer crumple inward. Somehow Rolf found the strength to wrap his fingers around the control levers and snap on a quick burst from the landing rockets. The ship struck; split open like a rotten squash, and Rolf felt himself being flung far outward through thick blackness. The floors of the thirty-seven caves through which they had so carefully jetted were a splintered, creviced series of canyon-like wastes, and as he ascended the rarefied atmosphere of the higher levels would spell death. "They may have found the sunken seas of Mars," thought Rolf as he moved alertly forward, "water that would give the mining domes new life." As the spinner dropped him slowly down into the vast emptiness of the great shining gulf, Rolf could see that a broad band of stone divided the green fertile plains and forests from the desolate desert wastes of the other half. Toward this barrier the spinner bore him, and Rolf was content to let it move in that direction—from the heights of the wall he could scout out the country beyond. The spinner had slowed its speed; it seemed to Rolf that he must be falling free in space for a time, but the feeble gravity of the tiny world tugged at him more strongly as he neared the wall. Deftly Rolf nested the spinners again in their pack before he set out toward the heaped-up mass of stone blocks that was the wall. Ten steps he took before an excited voice called out shrilly from the rocks ahead. "We ran out of fuel here on Lomihi," he finished, "with the vanished surface waters of Mars less than four miles beneath us." Cavern after cavern lies beyond this first one, their floors flooded with water." A hundred paces away Rolf made the dark shapes of armed warriors as they filed downward from the Barrier into the blackened desolation of the desert half of Lomihi.
 thirty seven
 thirty seven  forty seven  thirty  forty