Ruins

created. So how can warning them about the mice stop them from doing something they repeatedly did before there were ever any mice at all?”

Why hadn’t Umbo thought of all this himself? Why had he just . . . acted? For that matter, why hadn’t Param thought of all these objections even if for no other reason than to undercut Umbo? Why, this time of all possible times, did Param actually cooperate with him?

Umbo saw the way Loaf looked at him, then glanced languidly at Param, then back at Umbo, and he knew what Loaf was really saying. You were showing off, Umbo. You were impressing the girl. You weren’t thinking with your head.

“So maybe we blew it and maybe we didn’t,” said Umbo. “Or maybe we saved the world. Let’s see how things turn out.”

“If the mice don’t kill us all as soon as they find out what you’ve done,” said Loaf.

“For all we know, the future mice are putting poison in our food right now,” said Olivenko.

“Then we’ll die,” said Umbo. “But you don’t know we were wrong any more than we know we were right. So back off!”

“What we don’t know hasn’t killed anybody,” said Loaf.

“Or saved anybody,” said Umbo. “Or accomplished anything at all.”

“There are so many mice,” said Param. “Who’ll even notice they’re gone?”

“There are so many humans,” said Loaf savagely. “So many peasants. So many of our enemy. So many of the poor. So many ugly people, so many stupid people, so many people who aren’t as good as me. Who’ll miss a few dozen or hundred or million, if my actions happen to kill them?”

Param reeled at the accusation. She looked about to cry.

She disappeared.

“Now look what you’ve done,” said Umbo.

“You foolish boy,” said Loaf. “You’re more upset over my hurting Param’s feelings than you are about the murders you just committed without any evidence that you were accomplishing anything.”

Umbo knew that Loaf was right. Excruciatingly, humiliatingly right. And it was Loaf, of all people, whose high opinion Umbo wanted. Needed to deserve.

In his anguish, Umbo cried out, “I’m just a kid!”

His words hung in the air. Nobody said anything.

Param returned to view. “I’m not running away from this,” she said.

“Well, it’s nice to see that somebody’s growing up,” said Loaf.

Param glanced at Umbo, saw the tears on his face. “We did what we thought was right,” she said. “And it was a smart plan. And Umbo thought of it, and I agreed with it, and we did it. And he loves you as much as I love my father. So why can’t you show him a little understanding. Isn’t that what fathers are supposed to do?”

“I didn’t ask to be his father,” said Loaf.

“Yes you did,” said Param. “When you came along with him and Rigg, that’s what you were doing.”

“If your father were here and knew what you did, he’d be telling you off, too,” said Loaf.

“No he wouldn’t,” said Olivenko.

“Why, because he’s so much better than me?” said Loaf angrily.

“No,” said Olivenko. “Because he’s a weak and selfish man, and he wouldn’t care.”

Param looked as if Olivenko had slapped her. “I thought you loved him!”

“I love him,” said Olivenko. “But I also know him better than you. Strengths and weaknesses. He left you to your mother. He cared about nothing but his own researches. He still lives that way. You can’t expect anything from him, because he won’t come through. If you don’t understand that about him, he’ll break your heart. But Loaf, here. He’ll stand by Umbo through everything. Even when Umbo’s wrong, and needs to hear just how wrong he is. That’s a father. If I ever have children, that’s the father I want to be.”

“Then I hope you never have children!” Param snapped.

But all Umbo could think was: Loaf loves me. He cares what I do. And he threw himself into Loaf’s arms and wept. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Tell it to the mice,” murmured Loaf. But his arms went around Umbo and held him close.

CHAPTER 23 Murder

To kill a man isn’t something you decide lightly, Rigg knew. But he also understood that there were times when you had no choice.

Rigg had discussed it with Loaf long ago, during the time they spent in O, waiting for a banker named Cooper to convert a jewel into money they could spend. Rigg and Umbo had only begun learning how to use their talents together. Alone, Umbo could only go back a little way and appear to someone, like a ghost, and give them a brief message. Alone, Rigg could only see the paths that people made as they went through the world.

Together, though, they could actually change things. Rigg could fix on a particular path; then Umbo could send him to that time, and bring him back. Rigg was in the past time, but Umbo, who was still in the present, could also see him; he was in both times at once.

That was how Rigg got the knife—he stole it from an utter stranger, someone whose path he fixed on. “I could have taken his knife and killed him with it,” Rigg had said to Loaf.

“Why would you even think of that? From stealing to assassination in one quick step.” Loaf looked contemptuous.

“You were a soldier,” said Rigg. “You killed people.”

“Yes,” said Loaf. “It was war. They were trying to kill me, I was trying to kill them. I didn’t always succeed in killing them, but so far they’ve always failed at killing me.”

“So I guess you don’t think it would be fair for me to go where I know an enemy soldier was, and then go back in time and kill him when he had no way of knowing I’d be there.”

“Fair?” asked Loaf. “There’s no ‘fair’ about killing in war. If you can kill the other man, without any danger to yourself, then you do it.”

“But you just said it was wrong for me to—”

“Enemy,” said Loaf. “War. He knows he’s at war, he knows he has enemies, and suddenly out of nowhere an enemy kills him. That’s war. If you know how to kill the enemy without putting your own troops in danger, then you do it. You save the lives of your own, and take the lives of the enemy.”

“I would never just kill a stranger on the street,” said Rigg.

“But that’s what you said. You robbed him, and then you talked about how easy it was to kill him.”

“I said it would be easy,” said Rigg, “not that I would have killed him.”

“You’re wrong, though,” said Loaf. “It might be safe, it might be impossible for him to stop you. But if it’s ever easy for you to kill a man, then something has already died inside you.”

“So you can kill a man in a war,” said Rigg. “Any other time? What if someone was attacking Leaky?”

“Leaky would kill him without any help from me,” said Loaf. “Don’t argue, I know the point you’re making. You and Umbo, you can do this thing with time. So you know a man is going to kill somebody because he did it. There’s the person, dead. So you go back in time, and just before he kills the other guy, suddenly you appear and slit his throat.”

“That’s all right, isn’t it?” asked Rigg.

“You’re so eager to kill? You want to find out what the rules are, so you can do it?”

“I’m just asking a simple question,” said Rigg. “But if you’re afraid to give me an honest answer . . .”

“I gave you one. You’re too eager to kill. Go back farther. Before he ever reaches out to kill. Trip him on the way in. See if that stops him.”

“Trip him? He’s a murderer!”

“Do you know why he kills the other guy?”