(Spondule and Navichet on their bike, on a rough road at the top of a hill of pinkish grass. Spondule stands dismounted, holding the handlebars. Navichet sits on the back, looking forward through her telescope)
SPONDULE: Pretty big, isn’t it?
NAVICHET: It controls a pass through the spur. (Lowering the telescope) Used to be one of the major ways south of the Straightaway.
SPONDULE: (contemplative) Mm. (He begins pedaling) Think they got beer?