"Good point," Patricia said. She reached down to feel it with her palms. "There apparently isn't total separation of probabilistic states. Some interaction between matter and the surface is allowed, besides resistance to intrusion." She put her multi-meter directly on the surface. The value of pi fluctuated wildly, then stabilized: 3.141487233 continuous. "Pi's down," she said. She invoked the other constants. "Gravitational constant is nominal, speed of electromagnetic radiation is nominal and stable."

"Slash aitch?" Carrolson asked.

"The same. What purpose do the wells serve?"

"This circuit is capped, so it serves no purpose we can determine."

"The wells may give access to something outside the corridor," Takahashi said. "We decided against finding out where they lead. But the wells were not plugged, and the sand was kept out of the central hole by a spongy field of force, nature unknown. The only thing we could see was red light coming up out of each well. We sent a little drone helicopter into one well. It didn't come back. Our viewing angle was such that we couldn't see it after it traveled about ten meters. We decided against sending anybody after it."

"Wisely," Carrolson said.

Lake, still sitting, said laconically, "My men are ready to go as far as you'd like, any time you like."

"We appreciate that, Lieutenant," Carrolson said. "But we have good reasons for taking these things slowly."

"Give me an all-environment suit and a weapon, a couple of backups. . .” He grinned.

"You'd really go down?" Patricia asked, turning to the officer with an incredulous expression.

Lake grimaced. "If we were reasonably sure about the general category of things to see and experience, I'd go. We'd all go." The marines nodded in unison. "Duty here hasn't been all that exciting. Outside of the obvious scenic values."

"We dug all around the dimple," Takahashi said, edging up the slope and pointing with extended arms to indicate placement of the holes. He picked up a handful of dirt and let it sift between his fingers. "The dirt in all the wells is dry. No microorganisms, no large life forms, no plants."

"No living things. . . except us," Farley said.

"And no radiation," Takahashi continued. "No traces of unusual chemistry. So maybe these closed wells are just survey markers."

"Benchmarks of the gods," Carrolson intoned.

"Each well is alike?" Patricia asked.

"As far as we know," Takahashi said. "We've only examined two circuits."

Reynolds stood and brushed sand from his overalls. "Hey, Lieutenant. Maybe this is where boojums come from."

Lake rolled his eyes.

"Have you ever seen a boojum?" Patricia asked, looking intently at the marine.

"I don't think anyone has," Carrolson said.

"Mr. Reynolds?"

Reynolds glanced between Lake and Patricia. "Am I really being asked?"

"Yes," Patricia said. "I'm asking." She tapped her badge, uncertain whether that carried any weight with the marines.

"I've never seen one," Reynolds admitted. "But others have, others that I trust."