HARE: I can help repair the communications system.

Taban: Yeah. I’ve thought about that.

[He rises to his feet and exits the ship’s tiny medical bay, leaving Daley behind. After stripping off his armor and letting it crumple to the ground, he moves to the cockpit and sits in his usual seat, setting his feet up on the dashboard and breaking open a bulb of coffee. The HARE squats down beside him.]

Taban (blowing on his bulb): I wonder how he’ll act, when he wakes up.

HARE: USER Daley?

Taban: Yeah. He hates you. Treats you like the sorriest hunk of junk in the universe. But you saved him. (drinking) I just wonder if he’ll acknowledge it, or keep calling you a clunker. No offense.

HARE: I have not acquired ‘offense.’

Taban: Good. A thick skin can only help you in this business.

HARE: Understood.

Taban (drinking): . . .

Taban: . . . Not that I would know, I guess. I talk like I’m some kind of veteran, but this was my first-ever send-out and delivery. Some luck for a first-timer, huh?

HARE (processing): You have only recently acquired the profession of miner.

Taban: That’s right. I signed up on a whim, right off of the Martian Loop. Surprisingly very little training involved. I guess because they’ll be having the robots take it over soon. Again, no offense.

HARE: I have not acquired—

Taban: I got it. You want some coffee?

HARE: I am unable to ingest coffee.

Taban: I know. It was a joke. Maybe some motor oil?

HARE: I have no use for motor oil.

Taban: Another joke. I’m just killing it today. (drinking)

[A few moments pass.]

Taban: I wasn’t even supposed to partner up with him. He was supposed to retire. His heart is bad—that’s what I heard from the other miners. Like, really bad. He wanted to keep working, to make money for a new one . . . but they were forcing him off. I was supposed to be partnered with his replacement. But at the last minute, Daley insisted on going out instead. Just one last time, on one last mission, he said. This last time, this last mission, of course. (throwing away his coffee skin) Lucky me, right?

HARE: I am unsure of how to answer your query.

Taban: You’ll figure it out. (stretching) Anyway. Now we’re here.

[He and the HARE regard the white, frosted plain outside for a while. The suns are setting; the light wobbles over the ice in undulating waves. There are no signs of the fractal structures or the geyser that the HARE previously saw.]

Taban: I don’t get it. How is it possible that we walked from here in a straight line and wound up back here again? Do you know?

HARE: No.

Taban: What do your readouts say? Compass-wise, directionally, whatever?

HARE: There are anomalies. It will take time for me to analyze and process.