Ruins

“I don’t know how we’d ever find out,” said Olivenko.

“The mice know what the expendables and ships say to each other,” said Loaf.

“No,” said Umbo. “The mice have told you they intercept the ships’ communications. The Odinfolders told us they could do it, too, but how do they know if they’re getting everything? They can’t intercept what the ships and expendables don’t actually say. Besides, the expendables know they’re being spied on, and they’re good at lying.”

“The ships tell me the truth,” said Rigg. “As far as I know.”

“I hope so,” said Umbo. “Because when you think about it, the ships and the expendables are all the same thing. The same mind.”

“Actually,” said the ship, “we have a completely different program set.”

“Shut up, please,” said Rigg cheerfully.

“The ships take over the expendables whenever they want,” Umbo went on. “That means that whatever the expendables do, the ships consent to it. Does it work the other way around?”

“Whatever the ships do is because the expendables want it?” asked Param.

“The orbiters are set to destroy the life of any wallfold that develops technology the expendables disapprove of,” said Umbo. “That means that part of the expendables’ mission is to judge everything we do. Everything the mice do. And destroying us all is part of their mission. What if this seed of time-shifting ability that exists among all the descendants of Ram Odin is a forbidden weapon? Then the only way to expunge it from the world is to wipe out the human race on Garden.”

“That’s as good a guess as any,” said Rigg.

“But still only a guess,” said Olivenko.

That irritated Umbo. “Why are other people’s ideas ‘theories,’ but mine are ‘guesses’?”

“They’re all guesses,” said Rigg. “And they’re all theories. This is one we have to keep in mind when we meet the Visitors. Maybe they’re not the problem. Maybe it’s what they learn from the logs of all the ships’ computers.”

“Maybe it’s what they’re told by the expendables,” said Umbo. “Maybe there’s programming deeper than anything that Ram Odin could reach. Maybe they had an agenda from the beginning.”

“In the beginning,” said Param, “there was only one starship, and it was coming to this world to found one colony. As far as the Visitors know until they actually get here, the colony on Garden should be only twelve years old. What deep secret plan could possibly exist in the expendables’ programming?”

“A plan that has nothing to do with us, but which gets applied to us anyway,” said Umbo.

“How will we ever know?” asked Rigg seriously. “How can we ever know anything?”

“I think we have to go back to the beginning,” said Umbo. “I think we have to talk to Ram Odin.”

“We can’t,” said Rigg. “We don’t dare. If we change his choice, we undo all of human history on Garden.”

“Not undo, re do,” said Olivenko.

“And maybe not,” said Umbo. “There were nineteen Ram Odins, at least for a few minutes. What if we could talk to one of the ones who died?”

“What could we learn from that?” asked Olivenko, a little scornfully. “Those aren’t the Ram Odins that made all the decisions that shaped this world.”

“First,” said Rigg, “Ram Odin only made the decisions that he made, based on the data the ships and the expendables gave him. But he also knew things about how the expendables worked that we don’t know.”

“The mice are leaving,” said Param.

It was true. They were rushing from the flyer, down the ramp and simply dropping off its sides. It took a surprisingly long time. They had apparently been swarming everywhere in the vehicle.

“Alone at last,” said Olivenko, when the last mouse went down the ramp.

“There are still five on Loaf,” said Rigg. “And three hiding in the upholstery.”

Those all came out of hiding and headed out the door.

“They don’t have to go,” said Rigg. “We have nothing to hide.”

But the mice went anyway.

Umbo got up and went to the doorway and looked out. They were on the brow of a hill, surrounded mostly by woodland. He could see several housetrees of the Odinfolders. Rigg came and stood beside him. “They’re at home,” said Rigg.

“But not coming out to see what we’re doing,” said Umbo.

“They see the Odinfold flyer,” said Rigg, “and all they can see of us is a couple of people standing in the doorway. As far as they know, we’re transporting mice for some kind of mousemoot.”

Umbo turned back to face the others. “Should we do it?” he asked.

“Transport the mice with us into the past?” asked Loaf. “We gave our word.”

“We don’t even know if we can do it,” said Umbo.

“Of course we can,” said Rigg. “If we can take Loaf with us, we can take anybody.”

Loaf smiled wanly.

“When should we travel to?” asked Umbo. “How far into the past are we going to take them?”

“As soon after we got control of the Wall as possible, I suppose,” said Rigg.

Umbo noticed the way he said “we.” As if anybody but him had any power over it. “I don’t carry a perfect calendar in my head,” said Umbo. “Why not just go through now, a year or so before the Visitors arrive?”

“Because the mice want more than a few of their generations to get established,” said Loaf. “They want to take ten thousand mice through the Wall, so they’ll have millions in place before the Visitors come.”

“That’s what the mice want,” said Umbo.

“We gave our word,” said Param.

“Based on information they gave us,” said Umbo. “And what the expendables and the ship told us.”

“Umbo has a point,” said Rigg. “Not the point he thinks he’s making—we’re going to keep our word, or at least I am. But we don’t know if we can take ten thousand mice into the past. Or even fifty. And how will we pinpoint when to arrive?”

“Just . . . hook on to some path, like you always do,” said Umbo.

“What path?” asked Rigg. “How do we know which of the paths that come near the Wall are from that time, or even close to it?”

“Take the flyer back with us,” said Olivenko, “and when we get there, ask it if we hit the right time.”

“No,” said Umbo. “If we arrive at a time before Rigg got control of the ships, then the flyer doesn’t have to do anything we say.”

“But it’s the flyer from now, from the future of that time,” said Olivenko.

“Machines aren’t people,” said Umbo. “It will sync up with the starship computers of that time and do what they tell it to do—and they won’t be obeying Rigg. They won’t even know who Rigg is.”

“We’re so powerful,” said Param. “But now we want to be all-knowing, too.”

“Well, it would be nice,” said Rigg.

“I think we need to fly back to where we came through the Wall from Vadeshfold,” said Umbo, “and go back to that time, where Rigg can see our own paths coming through the Wall.”

“But we won’t have the mice there,” said Loaf.

“They assembled here,” said Umbo. “Let them assemble there.”

“And then how long will it take them to travel here to the Larfold Wall?” asked Loaf. “They have little tiny legs.”

“I stay here,” said Umbo. “Rigg flies back there. Rigg hooks onto our paths. I push Rigg back, complete with the flyer. Rigg flies back here in that time, and then when he gets here, I pull him back to this time.”

“So much rigmarole,” said Olivenko.

“It’s the only way Rigg can go back and then get back to this time exactly,” said Umbo. “I’m still needed for that—the ability to stay in the present and send somebody else into the past. When Rigg comes back to the present, his own path will be here, at the Wall, and then we can take the mice back. Even if we