Uncharted Territory by Connie Willis Page B

zoes sometime accidently kill their mates during the mating dance, and spiders and praying mantis females eat the male alive.”
    “Like C.J.,” Carson said.
    “I was thinking more of violence against something else, to impress the female,” I said.
    “Predators sometimes kill prey to present to the female as a gift,” Ev said, “if you’d call that violence.”
    I would, especially if it meant Bult was leading us into a nibbler’s nest or over a cliff so he could dump our carcasses at his girlfriend’s feet.
    “Fahrrr,” Bult said, looming out of the darkness. He dumped a big pile of sticks in front of us. “Fahrrr,” he said to Carson, and squatted to light it with a chemical igniter. As soon as it was going, he disappeared again.
    “Rivalry among males is common in almost all mammals,” Ev said, “elephant seals, primates—” “Homo sap,” Carson said.
    “Homo sapiens, ” Ev said, unruffled, “elk, woodcats. In a few cases they actually fight to the death, but in most it’s symbolic combat, designed to show the female who’s stronger, more virile, younger—”
    Carson stood up.
    “Where are you going?”
    “To run meteorologicals. I don’t like the looks of those clouds over the Ponypiles.” You couldn’t see the clouds over the Ponypiles, it was so dark, and he’d already run meteorologicals. I’d watched him while we were setting up camp. I wondered if he was worried about Bult and had gone to check on him, but Bult was right here, with another armful of sticks.
    “Thanks, Bult,” I said. He glared at Ev and then at me again and walked off, still carrying the sticks.
    I stood up.
    “Where are you going?” Ev said.
    “To run a whereabout on Wulfmeier. I want to make sure he made it to Starting Gate.” I pulled his pop-up out of my boot and tossed it to him. “Here. Tight Pants and Fancy Mustache’ll keep you company.”
    I went over to the equipment. Carson was nowhere to be seen. I got the log and called up Bult’s fines. “Breakdown by day,” I said. “Secondary breakdown by person,” and watched it for a while, thinking about Bult and the binocs and Ev’s mating customs.
    When I got back to the fire, Ev was sitting in front of an officeful of terminals, which didn’t look much like a Findriddy and Carson adventure.
    “What’s that?” I said, sitting down beside him.
    “Episode One. That’s you,” he said, pointing at one of the females.
    I wasn’t wearing tight pants in this one. I was wearing a skimpy little skirt and one of C.J.’s shirts, landing lights and all, and talking into a screen with a geological on it.
    Carson strolled into the office in his luggage vest, fringed pants, and a pair of boots the nibblers wouldn’t have even had to bite through. His mustache was slicked down and curled up, and all the females simpered at him like he was a buck with big horns.
    “I’m looking for someone to go with me to a new planet,” he said, his eyes sweeping the room and coming to rest on Skimpy Skirt. Music from somewhere under the terminals started to play, and everything went pinkish. Carson walked over to her desk and stood over her, looking down her blouse.
    After a while he said, “I’m looking for someone who longs for adventure, who’s not afraid of danger.” He held out his hand, and the music got louder. “Come with me,” he said.
    “Is that how it was?” Ev said.
    Well, my shit, of course it wasn’t like that. He’d swaggered in, sat down at my desk, and propped his muddy boots up on it.
    “What are you doing here?” I’d said. “You run up too many fines again?”
    “Nope,” he said, grabbing for my hand. “I wouldn’t mind running up a few more fraternizing with the sentients, though. How about it?”
    I yanked my hand free. “What are you really doing here?”
    “I’m looking for a partner. New planet. Surface survey and naming. Any takers?” He grinned at me. “Lots of perks.”
    “I’ll bet,” I said. “Dust, snakes,