“There are four people on this whole planet, and we’re supposed to be surveying it, not chasing after gatecrashers.”
“But—”
“Yeah. Sooner or later, there’ll be one we won’t catch. I’m not worried about Wulfmeier—the indidges don’t like him, and anything he gets he’ll have to find himself. But not all of the gatecrashers are scum. Most of them are people looking for a better place to starve, and sooner or later they’ll figure out where a silver mine is from our terrains, or they’ll talk the indidges into showing them an oil field. And it’ll be all over.”
“But the government—what about the regs? What about—”
“Preserving the indigenous culture and the natural ecology? Depends. Big Brother can’t stop a mining or drilling operation without sending forces, which means gates and buildings and people taking excursion trips to see the Wall, and forces to protect
them,
and pretty soon you’ve got Los Angeles.”
“You said it depends,” Ev said. “On what?”
“On what they find. If it’s big enough, Big Brother’ll come to get it himself.”
“What’ll happen to the Boohteri?”
“The same thing that always happens. Bult’s a smart operator, but not as smart as Big Brother. Which is why we’re putting the money from those out-of-stocks in the bank for him. So he’ll have a fighting chance.”
I punched send. “Expedition calling King’s X. Come in, King’s X.” I grinned at Ev. “You know, there
was
something wrong with Wulfmeier’s gate.”
C.J. came on, and I told her to send a message through the gate to Starting Gate and handed her over to Ev so he could fill her in on the details. “Fin was great!” he said. “You should have seen her!”
Bult and Carson were back. Bult had his log out and was talking into it.
“You find anything?” I said.
“Holos of anticlines and diamond pipes. Couple cans of oil. A laser.”
“What about the ore samples? Were they indigenous?”
He shook his head. “Standard Earth samples.” He looked at Bult, who’d stopped tallying fines and was going up the hill to get his umbrella. “At least now we know why Bult was leading us down here.”
“Maybe.” I frowned. “I got the idea he was just as surprised to see Wulfmeier as we were. And Wulfmeier was definitely surprised to see us.”
“He’d probably told Bult to sneak off and meet him after dark,” he said. “Speaking of which, we’d better get going. I don’t want Wulfmeier to come back and find us sail here.”
“He’s not coming back for a while,” I said. “He’s got a loose T-cable. It’ll fall off by the time he gets to Starting Gate.”
He smiled. “I still want to make it to the other side of the Wall by tonight.”
“If Bult’ll let us cross the Tongue,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t he? He’s already had his conference with Wulfmeier.”
“Maybe,” I said, but Bult didn’t go half a klom before he led the ponies across, and not a word about
tssi mitss, e
or otherwise, which shot my theory to pieces.
“You know the best part about that scene back there with Wulfmeier?” Ev said as we splashed across and headed south again. “The way you and Carson worked together. It’s even better than on the pop-ups.”
I’d watched that pop-up last night. We’d caught Wulfmeier threatening the accordion and come out punching and kicking, lasers blazing.
“You don’t even have to say anything. You both know what the other one’s thinking.” Ev gestured expansively. “On the pop-ups they show you working together, but this was like you were reading each other’s minds. You do what the other one wants you to do without even being told. It must be great to have a partner like that.”
“Fin, where on hell do you think you’re going?” Carson said. He was off his pony and untying the cameras. “Stop jabbering about mating customs and come help me. Were camping here.”
It wasn’t a bad place to camp, and Bult was back to fining us, or at least me, for every step I took, but I was still worried. Carson’s binocs disappeared again, and Bult paced back and forth between the three of us while we were setting up camp and eating supper, giving me murderous looks. After supper he disappeared.
“Where’s Bult?” I asked Carson, looking out into the darkness for Bult’s umbrella.
“Probably looking for diamond pipes,” Carson said, huddling next to the lantern. It was chilly again, and there were big clouds over the Ponypiles.
I was still thinking about Bult. “Ev,” I asked, “do any of these species of yours get violent as part of their courtship rituals?”
“Violent?” Ev said. “You mean, toward their mate? Bull zoes sometime accidently kill their mates during the mating dance, and spiders and praying mantis females eat the male alive.”
“Like C.J.,” Carson said.
“I was thinking more of violence against something else, to impress the female,” I said.
“Predators sometimes kill prey to present to the female as a gift,” Ev said, “if you’d call that violence.”
I would, especially if it meant Bult was leading us into a nibbler’s nest or over a cliff so he could dump our carcasses at his girlfriend’s feet.
“Fahrrr,” Bult said, looming out of the darkness. He dumped a big pile of sticks in front of us. “Fahrrr,” he said to Carson, and squatted to light it with a chemical igniter. As soon as it was going, he disappeared again.
“Rivalry among males is common in almost all mammals,” Ev said, “elephant seals, primates—” “Homo sap,” Carson said.
“Homo sapiens,
” Ev said, unruffled, “elk, woodcats. In a few cases they actually fight to the death, but in most it’s symbolic combat, designed to show the female who’s stronger, more virile, younger—”
Carson stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“To run meteorologicals. I don’t like the looks of those clouds over the Ponypiles.” You couldn’t see the clouds over the Ponypiles, it was so dark, and he’d already run meteorologicals. I’d watched him while we were setting up camp. I wondered if he was worried about Bult and had gone to check on him, but Bult was right here, with another armful of sticks.
“Thanks, Bult,” I said. He glared at Ev and then at me again and walked off, still carrying the sticks.
I stood up.
“Where are you going?” Ev said.
“To run a whereabout on Wulfmeier. I want to make sure he made it to Starting Gate.” I pulled his pop-up out of my boot and tossed it to him. “Here. Tight Pants and Fancy Mustache’ll keep you company.”
I went over to the equipment. Carson was nowhere to be seen. I got the log and called up Bult’s fines. “Breakdown by day,” I said. “Secondary breakdown by person,” and watched it for a while, thinking about Bult and the binocs and Ev’s mating customs.
When I got back to the fire, Ev was sitting in front of an officeful of terminals, which didn’t look much like a Findriddy and Carson adventure.
“What’s that?” I said, sitting down beside him.
“Episode One. That’s you,” he said, pointing at one of the females.
I wasn’t wearing tight pants in this one. I was wearing a skimpy little skirt and one of C.J.’s shirts, landing lights and all, and talking into a screen with a geological on it.
Carson strolled into the office in his luggage vest, fringed pants, and a pair of boots the nibblers wouldn’t have even had to bite through. His mustache was slicked down and curled up, and all the females simpered at him like he was a buck with big horns.
“I’m looking for someone to go with me to a new planet,” he said, his eyes sweeping the room and coming to rest on Skimpy Skirt. Music from somewhere under the terminals started to play, and everything went pinkish. Carson walked over to her desk and stood over her, looking down her blouse.
After a while he said, “I’m looking for someone who longs for adventure, who’s not afraid of danger.” He held out his hand, and the music got louder. “Come with me,” he said.
“Is that how it was?” Ev said.
Well, my shit, of course it wasn’t like that. He’d swaggered in, sat down at my desk, and propped his muddy boots up on it.
“What are you doing here?” I’d said. “You run up too many fines again?”
“Nope,” he said, grabbing for my hand. “I wouldn’t mind running up a few more fraternizing with the sentients, though. How about it?”
I yanked my hand free. “What are you really doing here?”
“I’m looking for a partner. New planet. Surface survey and naming. Any takers?” He grinned at me. “Lots of perks.”
“I’ll bet,” I said. “Dust, snakes, dehyde food, and no bathrooms.”
“And me,” he said with that smug grin. “Garden of Eden. Wanta come?”
“Yeah,” I said, watching the pop-up go pinker. “That’s how it was.”
“Come with me,” Carson said again to Skimpy Skirt, and she stood up and gave him her hand. A draft from somewhere started blowing her hair and her skimpy skirt.
“It’ll be uncharted territory,” he said, looking in her eyes.
“I’m not afraid,” she said, “as long as I’m with you.”
“What on hell’s
that
supposed to be?” Carson said limping up.
“The way you and Fin met,” Ev said.
“And I suppose those landing lights are supposed to be Fin’s?”
“You finish your meteorologicals?” I cut in before he could say anything about not being able to tell I was a female half the time.
“Yeah,” he said, warming his hands over the fire. “Supposed to rain in the Ponypiles. I’m glad we’re heading north tomorrow.” He looked back at Carson and Skimpy Skirt, who were still holding hands and looking sappy-eyed at each other. “Evie, which adventure did you say this was supposed to be?”
“It’s when you first met,” Ev said. “When you asked Fin to be your partner.”
“Asked
her?” Carson said. “My shit, I didn’t ask her. Big Brother said my partner had to be a female, for gender balance, whatever on hell that is, and she was the only female in the department who knew how to run terrains and geologicals.”
“Fahrrr,” Bult said and dumped his load of sticks on Carson’s bad foot.
Expedition 184: Day 3
I hauled my bedroll out by the ponies so I didn’t have to listen to Carson, and in the morning I said, “Come on, Ev, you’re riding with me. I want to hear all about mating customs from you.”
“Chilly around here this morning,” Carson said.
I strapped the camera on Useless and cinched it tight.
“I don’t like the look of those clouds,” Carson said, looking at the Ponypiles. They were covered with low clouds that were spreading out. Half the sky was overcast. “It’s a good thing we’re heading north.”
“Sahhth,” Bult said, pointing south. “Brik.”
“I thought you said there was a break north of here,” Carson said.
“Sahtth,” Bult said, glaring at me.
I glared back.
“I don’t like the way he’s acting,” Carson said. “He was gone half the night, and this morning he left a bunch of dice in my bedroll. And Evie says his pop-ups missing.”
“Good,” I said, climbing up on Useless. “Ev, tell me again about what males do to impress their females.”
Bult led us south most of the morning, keeping close to the Tongue, even though the Wall was at least two kloms to the west and there was nothing between us and it but one sandblossom and a lot of pink dirt.
Bult kept sending murderous glances back at me, and kicking his pony to make it go faster. Not only did it, our ponies keeping up with it, but they didn’t keel over once all morning. I wondered if Bult had been faking rest stops the way we did dust storms. And what else he’d been faking.
Around noon, I gave up waiting for a rest stop and hauled dehydes out of my pack for lunch, and right after we ate, we came to a creek, which Bult crossed without even looking in, and a handful of silvershims. The whole sky was gray by then, so they didn’t look like much.
“Sorry the sun’s not out,” I told Ev. I looked at their grayish leaves, hanging limp and dusty. “They don’t look much like the pop-ups, do they?”
“I’m sorry I lost the pop-up,” Ev said. “I put it under my bedroll instead of in my boot.” He hesitated. “You didn’t know that was how you got chosen to be Carson’s partner, did you?”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “That’s how Big Brother always does things. C.J. got picked because she was one-sixteenth Navajo.” I looked ahead at Carson.
“Why did you come to Boohte?” Ev said.
“You heard the man,” I said. “I wanted adventure, I wasn’t afraid of danger, I wanted to be famous.”
We rode on a ways. “Is that really why?” Ev said.
“Let’s change the subject,” I said. “Tell me about mating customs. Did you know there’s a fish on Starsi that’s so dumb it thinks it’s being courted when it’s not?”
A half a klom after the silvershims, Bult turned west toward the Wall. It bulged out to meet us, and where it did, a whole section was down, a heap of shiny white rubble with high-water marks on it. A flood must’ve taken it out, even though it was an awfully long way from the Tongue.
Bult led us over the break and, finally, north, keeping next to the Wall all the way back up to the creek we’d crossed. Ev was excited about seeing the front side of the Wall, even though only a few of the chambers looked like they’d been lived in lately, and even more excited about a shuttlewren that tried to dive-bomb us riding through the break.
“Their territory obviously involves the Wall in some way,” he said, leaning sideways to get a look inside. “Have you ever seen one of their nests in the chambers?”
If he leaned over any farther he was going to fall off his pony. “Rest stop!” I called up to Carson and Bult, and pulled back on the reins. “Come on, Ev,” I said, and dismounted. “It’s against regs to go inside the chambers, but you can peek in.”
He looked up ahead at Bult, who had his log out and was glaring back at us. “What about the fine for leaving footprints?”
“Carson can pay it,” I said. “Bult hasn’t fined him in two days.” I went over to a chamber and looked inside the door.