“I thought you said the f-and-f weren’t dangerous?”

“They’re not. But we’re going to be in uncharted territory. That means landslides, lightning, roadkill holes, flash floods. You can cut your hand on scourbrush and get blood poisoning, or get too far north and freeze to death.”

“Or get caught in a luggage stampede.”

I wondered how he knew about that. The pop-ups, whatever they were. “Or wander off and never be found again, which is what happened to Stewart’s partner, Segura,” I said. “And you won’t even get a hill named after you. So you stay where you are, and after twenty-four hours you call C.J. and she’ll come and get you.”

He nodded. “I know.”

I was going to have to find out what these pop-ups are. “You call C.J.,” I said, “and you let her worry about finding the rest of us. If you’re injured and can’t call, she’ll know where you are by your mike.”

I paused, trying to remember what else I should tell him. Carson was yelling at Bult again. I could hear him clear over by the ponies.

“No giving the indidges gifts,” I said, “no teaching them how to make a wheel or build a cotton gin. If you figure out what sex Bult is, no fraternizing. No yelling at the indidges,” I said, looking over at Carson.

He was coming this way, his mustache quivering again, but he didn’t look like he was laughing this time.

“Bult says we can’t cross here,” he said. “He says there’s no break in the Wall here.”

“When we looked at the map, he said there was,” I said.

“He says it’s been repaired. He says we’ll have to ride south to the other one. How far is it?”

“Ten kloms,” I said.

“My shit, that’ll take us all morning,” he said, squinting off in the direction of the Wall. “He didn’t say anything about it being repaired when we did the map. Call C.J. Maybe she got an aerial of it on her way home.”