Uncharted Territory by Connie Willis Read Free Book Online Page B

beautiful,” Ev, who hadn’t heard me, said. “I had no idea it was so long.”
    “Six hundred kloms,” I said. “And getting longer. An average of two new chambers a year, according to C.J.’s aerials, not counting repaired breaks.”
    Which meant our theory didn’t wash at all, but neither did the idea of the indidges doing all the work.
    “It’s even more beautiful than the pop-ups,” Ev said, and I was going to ask him what exactly they were, but I didn’t think he’d hear mat either.
    I remembered the first time I’d seen the Wall. I’d only been on Boohte a week. We’d spent the whole time struggling up a draw in pouring rain and I’d spent the whole time wondering how I’d let Carson talk me into this, and we came out on top of a mesa a lot higher than what we were now, and Carson said, “There she is. All yours.”
    Which got us a pursuant on incorrect imperialistic attitudes and how “Pursuant to proprietorship, planets are not owned.”
    I looked over at Ev. “You’re right. It is presentable-looking.”
    Bult finished writing up his fines, and we started out across it. He was still keeping close to the Tongue, and after half a klom he got out his binocs, looked through them at the water, and shook his head, and we plodded on.
    It was already after noon, and I thought about getting lunch out of my pack, but the ponies were starting to drag and Ev was intent on the Wall, which was close to the Tongue here, so I waited.
    The Wall disappeared behind a low step-mesa for a hundred meters and then curved down almost to the Tongue, and Carson’s pony apparently decided he’d gone far enough and stopped, swaying.
    “Uh-oh,” I said.
    “What is it?” Ev said, dragging his eyes away from the Wall.
    “Rest stop. Remember how I told you they’re not dangerous?” I said, watching Carson, who’d gotten down off his pony and was standing clear. “Well, that’s if they don’t fall over with your legs under ‘em. Think you can get down off him faster than you got on?”
    “Yes,” Ev said, jumping down and away like he expected Speedy to explode.
    I tightened the straps on the computer, dismounted, and stepped back. Up ahead, Carson’s pony had stopped swaying, and Carson had gone back up to it and was trying to untie the food packs.
    Ev and I walked up and watched him struggle with the line. The pony dumped a pile practically on Carson’s foot and started swaying again.
    “Tim-berr,” I said, and Carson jumped back. The pony took a couple of tottering steps forward and fell over, its legs out stiff at its side.
    The pack was half under it, and Carson started yanking it out from under the motionless carcass. Bult unfolded himself and stepped decorously off his pony holding his umbrella, and the rest of the ponies went over like dominoes.
    Ev went over to Carson and stood looking down on him. “Don’t make any sudden movements,” he said.
    Carson stomped past me. “What are you laughing at?” he said.
    We had lunch and incurred a few fines, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to Carson alone. Bult stuck like glue to us, talking into his log, and Ev kept asking questions about the Wall.
    “So they make the chambers one at a time,” he said, looking across at it. We were on the wrong side of the Wall here, so all you could see were the back walls of the chambers, looking like they’d been plastered and painted a whitish-pink. “How do they build them?”
    “We don’t know. Nobody’s ever seen them doing it,” Carson said. “Or seen them doing anything worthwhile,” he added darkly, watching Bult tallying up, “like finding us a way across it so we can get on with this expedition.”
    He went over to Bult and started talking to him in an inappropriate manner.
    “And what are they?” Ev asked. “Dwellings?”
    “And storerooms for all the stuff Bult buys, and landfills. Some of them are decorated, with flowers hanging in the opening and nibbler bones laid out in a design in