“Why would a boat sink like that?” asked Rigg.
“There are those who say the boat was tampered with-that the floats were designed to come loose, and a hole was deliberately placed in the boat with a plug in it that was soluble in salt water.”
“So he was murdered,” said Rigg.
“There are those who say that,” said Mother. “But one of the scholars who was observing it-Tokwire the astronomer-was using a glass of his own making, which was filled with mirrors, so the other scholars did not trust his observations. But he swears it let him see the sinking of your father’s boat much more clearly than anyone else, and he says he saw hands rising up out of the water, first to tear the floats away, and then to pull straight down on the boat.”
“Hands? Human hands?”
“No one believed him. And he quickly dropped the matter, for fear that insisting on the point would ruin his reputation among scholars.”
“You believe him.”
“I believe we don’t know what’s on the other side of the Wall,” said Mother.
“You think there are people there who live in the water? Who can breathe underwater?” asked Rigg.
“I don’t think anything. I neither say ‘possible’ nor ‘impossible’ to anything,” said Mother.
“But he passed through the Wall.”
“And never woke up.”
“Why is the story not known throughout… the Republic?”
“Because we didn’t want a thousand idiots making the attempt and meeting the same fate,” said Mother.
“What if there are water people in the next wallfold?” asked Rigg. “They’ve never crossed the Wall, either! Would they even understand what our boats were? What kind of creature Father Knosso was? They might think that because he’s shaped like them, he could breathe underwater as they did.”
“We don’t know how they’re shaped,” said Mother.
“We know they have hands.”
“We know that what Tokwire saw he called hands.”
“Mother, I can see that Father’s plan should not be tried again,” said Rigg. “I would love to see anything he wrote, or failing that to read everything he read from the library. So I can know what he knew, or at least guess what he guessed. But I swear to you most solemnly that I am not fool enough to attempt to cross the Wall myself, certainly not unconscious, and equally not in a boat. If I’m too stupid to learn from other people’s experiences, I’m no scholar.”
“You relieve me greatly. Though you must know how it strikes terror in my heart that within a day of your arrival, you’re already talking about duplicating your father’s fatal research.”
“I was already interested in the Wall before you told me the story of Father Knosso, Mother. Duplicating his research may save me time, but I have ideas of my own.”
“I’ll ask Flacommo what is possible concerning the library. But you must promise me to let me serve you as I served your father. Come and tell me all you learn, all you wonder about, all that you guess.”
“Here?” asked Rigg. “This is your place of privacy, Mother. I’m uncomfortable even now, knowing that I should not be here.”
“Where else, if we’re not to bore the rest of Flacommo’s house with our tedious scholarly conversation?”
“The garden,” said Rigg. “Walking among the trees and bushes and flowers. Sitting on benches. Isn’t it a lovely thing, to be among the living plants?”
“You forget that it’s open to the elements, and winter is almost here.”
“I spent many a winter in the highest mountains of the Upsheer, sleeping outdoors night after night.”
“How will this keep me warm in the garden this winter?” asked Mother.
“We’ll talk together only on sunny days. Maybe my sister will join us, and we can share a bench with you between us-we’d keep you warm enough then, I think!”
“If your sister ever consents to come out of her seclusion.”
“A seclusion that excludes her only brother, lost so long and newly come home, is too much seclusion, I think.”
“It’s what she thinks that counts,” said Mother.
“Then she doesn’t listen to your advice?” asked Rigg.
“Listening isn’t obeying,” said Mother.
“Come with me and show me the house, Mother!” said Rigg. “I think this is an ancient place, with old ways of building.”
“So you study architecture as well?” asked Mother.
“I’m a scholar! In my heart, anyway. Old things intrigue me. Especially old buildings! You can imagine how I loved the Tower of O!”
“I can’t,” said Mother. “I’ve never seen it.”
“Then I’ll draw you sketches of it.”
“I’ve seen sketches,” she said testily.
“But you haven’t seen my sketches!” said Rigg. “Come on, come with me, let’s see this house.”
Mother allowed herself to be drawn to her feet, and together they began walking the corridors, holding hands. Rigg knew that they were leaving Param behind, invisible, but that could not be helped.
When Rigg sensed anyone’s path near enough to overhear them, he would walk apart from Mother, letting their hands clasp in the space between. But when he knew they were alone, and no one could hear, he took her hand in both of his, and leaned close.
It was in those times that he told her about Umbo and Loaf, about going back in time, about the jewel-even now he still mentioned only the one-about his time on the boat with General Citizen, about Shouter’s attempt to kill him, about his own failures to travel back in time without Umbo’s help. She listened to all without interruption.
In return, she told him little, but apologized for the fact that the little she told was all she knew. Param’s gift was not understood-she simply couldn’t be found sometimes, even as a little child, and then she’d turn up somewhere in the house, hungry and cold. Several governesses were dismissed because of their failure to keep track of her, and finally they were moved into Flacommo’s house precisely because it was tightly walled and she could not escape.
“I think it’s because of all the secret passages,” said Rigg. “So they could watch her and see what she does.”
“Then they certainly know what I know. When she was still young, it only happened when she was frightened by something-she’d start turning to run away, and then she faded and was gone before she’d gone far.”
“Then she learned to control it?” asked Rigg.
“Now it’s not fear that drives it, but repugnance. She hates the company of anyone but me.”
“But that wasn’t always so.”
“There was a time when she had many friends. Courtiers, scholars, men of trade-many visited Flacommo, and among them were some who took a great liking to Param. She said one of the scholars inadvertently helped her learn to understand her invisibility. What he said helped her get control of it, to disappear only when she wanted to, and as long as she wanted, no more.”
“That must have been a very wise man.”
“It was a chance thing,” said Mother. “He might have been wise, but he had no idea that the things he said were useful to her, because he couldn’t have known about her invisibility. That’s a story that has not spread. What the servants and courtiers all believe is that Param is painfully shy and hides when she wants no company. They are forbidden to search for her, though of course they couldn’t possibly find her if she didn’t want to be found.”
“Please tell her that I beg her to join us on our garden walks.”
“Beg away,” said Mother. “She’ll do what she wants.”
“Tell her I’m sorry for passing through her in the garden.”
“What!” said Mother. “You did what?”
“I knew where she was and I walked through her.”
“I didn’t know that was possible.”
