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.

Taban: Great. Thanks. (rubbing his head) What the fuck is going on with this place? Why doesn’t any of it make sense?

HARE: I am unsure.

Taban: And why does Daley keep wanting to go out? His heart is on its last legs.

HARE: Yes.

Taban: Did you see a man by the ship?

HARE: No.

Taban: So he’s losing it. Or is he?

HARE: What is USER Daley losing?

Taban: Never mind. The point is, we can’t be stranded on this hellhole. We just can’t. Not in a place where walking in a line gets you twisted around and lost in some bizarro-mutato dimension, and where some creepy invisible dudes may or may not be hanging around the ship. Right?

HARE: Yes.

Taban: I mean, just look at it. It’s not like anyone would want to come here anyway, even if we managed to get off this rock to tell them about it.

HARE: Disputable. There are many geographical and topical anomalies here.

Taban: Better left alone, I say. Some shit just isn’t worth exploring.

HARE: . . .

Taban: Don’t take offense to that.

HARE: My primary purpose is exploration.

Taban: I know. Just—you know what I mean.

HARE: . . .

Taban: Anyway. If he tells you to go out, don’t listen to him. He’ll want to use you to look for things—don’t do it.