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  Rigg did not ask the soldier why he said “sir.” He knew perfectly well that his supposed identity had spread among the soldiers, if not through the whole crew and half of O before they left. The soldier called him “sir” because he still had respect for royalty, and Rigg was purportedly the heir to the throne.

  So the fear of there being support for a revolution against the Revolutionary Council was not ungrounded.

  Was it possible that Father had taken him, as an infant, from the royal house? Then the only question was whether he did so in obedience to Rigg’s parents’ wishes, or against them. Had his real mother and father given him to the Wandering Man in hopes of saving his life? Or was he kidnapped?

  Or—an intriguing possibility—had Father, knowing the real Rigg had been murdered and the body hidden or destroyed, taken a perfectly ordinary baby and raised him so as to prepare him to pretend to be the Sessamekesh? If so, Father would certainly have gone to great lengths to make sure to use a baby who could be expected to grow up to resemble the Sessamoto family enough that he would be believable as their long-lost son and brother.

  What Rigg couldn’t figure out was why Father would arrange things so that this plot would start even after he died. Why wouldn’t he want to be there to help guide Rigg through this perilous path?

  Or had he already given him all the guidance he needed?

  Rigg sat there trying to imagine what else Father had taught him that might be applicable in this situation. Nothing came to mind. Hard as it was to believe, it seemed likely that Father had not thought of everything.

  But Father knew that no one could think of everything. So he must have believed he gave Rigg the tools he needed to deal with any situation, including this one. The problem was that Rigg had no idea what to do, so whatever training Father might have thought would be applicable would not be applied as long as Rigg remained as stupid as he was right now.

  The door opened. It was not General Citizen who came in, but rather a very wet officer—apparently the one called Shouter. He was shoved into the cabin by other soldiers and immediately manacled to Rigg, wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle.

  Only then did General Citizen come to the door and shout at the dripping, shivering man, “Maybe you can keep this one from diving overboard, you blithering fool! Maybe you won’t get thrown over yourself!”

  Rigg immediately assumed that the shouting was so that the other soldiers on the boat would get the message; to Rigg, Citizen did not look genuinely angry at Shouter. The sincere glance of rage was directed at Rigg.

  When the general was gone and he was alone with Shouter, it took a great deal of effort for Rigg to keep himself from laughing. Good old Loaf had not only gotten himself and Umbo off the boat, he had tossed the watchdog into the water as well. And General Citizen, whatever his real purpose might be, was not happy.

  CHAPTER 11

  Backward

  This time it took eleven days for the computers to come up with their answer.

  “Converting the energy requirement into mass,” said the expendable, “all the computers agree that without violating previously observed laws of physics, the most likely cost of returning from the fold to our previous position in spacetime, but with the direction reversed, would be about nineteen times the mass of this ship and everything on it.”

  “Nineteen computers,” said Ram, “and nineteen times the mass.”

  “Do you find this coincidence significant?” asked the expendable.

  “Each computer was an observer and a meddler in spacetime at the time the fold was created,” said Ram. “You and I weren’t observers, because we could not sense or even understand the convolutions of the fields being generated. So for each observer, there had to be a distinct jump. And for each jump, there had to be an expenditure of mass equal to the total mass of the ship and its contents.”

  “So if there had been only nine or ten computers,” said the expendable, “we would have come only halfway back to the present?”

  “No,” said Ram. “I think if there had been only one computer, we would have crossed the fold only one-nineteenth as far into the past of the target star system before being shoved back, in reverse.”

  “You seem to be very happy about this hypothesis,” said the expendable, “but I don’t see why. It still explains nothing.”

  “Don’t you see?” said Ram. “Crossing the fold pushed us into the past a certain amount, based on the mass of the ship and its velocity or whatever. But the only way to pay for that passage across the fold was to send an equal mass backward. And because there were nineteen observers creating the fields that created the fold, it happened nineteen times.”

  “But it happened only once,” said the expendable.

  “No,” said Ram. “It happened nineteen times. For each jump, a copy of the ship was thrust backward in time. Eighteen other versions of ourselves occupy the identical space as the original ship, only moving the opposite direction through time as we journey toward Earth, all of us invisible to each other.”

  “So our reliance on the computers caused the failure of the mission?” asked the expendable.

  “The mission didn’t fail,” said Ram. “It succeeded nineteen times. We’re just the exhaust trail.”

  • • •

  Loaf was full of plans to sneak back into O and live there in hiding long enough for Umbo to deliver his messages. Only when Umbo finally convinced him that he had no idea how to do it did Loaf finally realize that learning how to go back in time might better be done somewhere else.

  “I might not learn how to go back in time for weeks,” said Umbo as they walked through the woods, back toward O. “Or months.” If I ever do. “It was only Rigg who could go back in time. I helped, by slowing him down. Or speeding him up.”

  “Which?”

  “I always thought I was slowing other people down, but Rigg said I was really speeding them up so that everything around them seemed slower.”

  Loaf grunted at that and moved a branch out of the way, holding it so it didn’t swing back and hit Umbo in the face.

  “Thanks,” said Umbo. “You see, Rigg could always see the paths of people moving around in the past. Long before I ever helped him. He knew what he was looking for. I don’t.”

  Another grunt.

  “We need a safe place to go where I can practice trying to do to myself whatever it is I do to other people. And even then, who knows whether I’ll be able to see anything?”

  “Look,” said Loaf, “we know you did it. We know it happens. We just have to be patient. And you have to work hard at it so we don’t waste too much time.”

  “It’s not a waste of time,” said Umbo. “It’s however long the job takes.”

  “Here’s how I see things,” said Loaf. “We must have gone through all this before, only the first time, Rigg got arrested without your moving the knife and without my hiding the jewels and money. Then you learned how to go back in time, came back to O, delivered the warnings, and now everything is happening differently. So why do you need to deliver the messages this time at all?”

  “Because none of that has happened yet, so now it won’t,” said Umbo. “I have to learn how to travel in time so I can go back this time and deliver the same message again.”

  “But you didn’t get the message twice, did you? So why deliver it twice?”

  “I don’t know,” said Umbo. “I don’t think it is twice. I think there’s only one message, and I still have to deliver it.”

  “But you only know you have to deliver it because you already did. And that’s the point. You already did. But I’m not going to argue with you. Even if you don’t have to deliver the same message again, it’ll be useful for you to learn how to do it. And then if it makes you feel better, go ahead and deliver the messages—if you remember what you actually said.”

  “I have to do it because I know I already did, only when I did it, it was the future, so I have to get to the future in order to come back and do what I al
ready did . . . This is so crazy that it has to be impossible.”

  “Except it happened, so it is possible. We won’t do your figuring-it-out time in O, because we might get caught. But I’m still going back to get the jewels and the money. The coins will be convenient for us, right now—we can buy passage upriver to Leaky’s Landing and stay there in safety for a while. But the jewels and the knife—it’s not like we can cash those in. I think you came back to warn Rigg and yourself because first time we went through this experience, those items got taken by the soldiers, and that made everything worse for Rigg. That first stone—did it just happen to be the only one that was legendary and fabulously valuable? Or are there others that would make things even worse if Rigg was caught with them? And that knife—who knows what that would cause. It’s very old, but it looks very new, right? And Rigg never did know anything about the man he lifted it from.”

  “So we should take the money and bury the knife and the jewels somewhere nobody can ever find them,” said Umbo.

  “No,” said Loaf. “Because we don’t know but what we’ll need them later to buy Rigg’s freedom. Or some other thing. They’re Rigg’s inheritance from his father, so what we have to do is keep them out of the hands of the Revolutionary Council or anybody else who means us ill. But we still need to get it all to Aressa Sessamo so Rigg will have the use of them if he ever needs them.”

  “Because having them has worked out so splendidly up to now,” said Umbo.

  Loaf gave him a little shove. “Look what you’re wearing. Look what we’ve experienced, the people we’ve talked to, the things we’ve learned. A few weeks of being rich has taught me a lot.”

  “Like what? That it gets you arrested?”

  “It was Rigg’s name that got him arrested, not his money.”

  “So what has being rich—or hanging around with a rich kid—taught you?”

  Loaf grinned. “That I like it a lot better than being poor.”

  “I was fine with poor. I didn’t even know I was all that poor. I didn’t even know the stuff we were buying even existed, so I didn’t miss it. Life was good.”

  “Spoken like a true privick,” said Loaf.

  “So what’s the plan? We go into O, get the jewels and money—”

  “You are so very, very wrong. I go into O, I get the money.”

  “You’re not leaving me!”

  “Yes I am,” said Loaf. “And we’re going to have a signal so that when I come back, I can call you. If I whistle like this . . .”—he whistled—“then I’m all alone and it’s safe. But if I whistle like this . . .”—a different sound—“then I have somebody dangerous with me and you should stay away.”

  “There’s not a bird alive that makes sounds like those.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m not calling any birds, isn’t it?” said Loaf. “Those are military signals from my old regiment.”

  “You need one more signal.”

  “What’s that?”

  “One that means ‘I’ve got somebody dangerous with me, but I need you to come to me anyway.’”

  “I would never give you a signal like that.”

  “But you might. So whistle that one for me.”

  “I’ll never need it.”

  “Then you’ll never use it, but let’s have it anyway!”

  Loaf glowered and whistled again, a very different sound. “I’m the experienced one, but you think you can give the orders.”

  “You’re the big man, and I’m the little kid. I never have the option of fighting my way out of a situation. So I think of all the options I might need. That’s just how it is when you’re small.”

  “I was a kid once, too,” said Loaf.

  “And I bet you were bigger than kids two years older than you.”

  Loaf said nothing.

  “When you don’t answer, that means I’m right.”

  “Shut up,” said Loaf. “I think I caught a glimpse of the tower.”

  “What tower?” asked Umbo.

  “The Tower of O,” growled Loaf. “Are you that stupid?”

  “I was thinking of other things,” said Umbo. “I was thinking of how to go back in time.”

  “You were thinking of how smart you are, telling me ‘I’m right,’ and then you proved you aren’t very smart after all, and don’t bother arguing because we both know I’m stuck with the dumb kid while the smart kid is a prisoner on that boat.”

  That stung Umbo—worse than his father beating him. And even though Loaf cuffed him playfully and told him, “Come on, you know I was teasing you,” it didn’t change the fact that they both knew it was true. But it wasn’t about being smart. It was about the things Wandering Man had taught them. Umbo had gotten a little training and that was all. Just enough to help Rigg. But Rigg had been trained for anything. He had been trained to be a son of the royal house—because that was what he really was.

  If Wandering Man had trained me the same way, I’d be smart, too.

  Wouldn’t I?

  Despite all the signals, Loaf ended up not using any of them. That’s because Umbo disobeyed him, didn’t stay where he was told, but instead followed him and, not far from the tower, climbed a tree. He could see now where Loaf dug to get the bag of jewels, and could see that nobody was following Loaf as he threaded his way back into the woods. So Umbo ran back toward their meeting place, climbed another tree, and dropped from a lower branch right in front of Loaf. He submitted cheerfully to the do-what-I-tell-you-or-you’ll-get-us-both-killed lecture.

  When Loaf was finally through grumping at him, Umbo asked, “Did you get it? All of it?”

  “Unless somebody found the bag, took out just one jewel, and put the rest back, yes, I found it all.”

  “Well, let’s see it. Let’s count,” said Umbo. “Because now I think there really is one missing.”

  They counted. And counted again.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Loaf. “How could one be gone?”

  “The biggest one, too,” said Umbo.

  “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t know,” said Umbo. “I just thought maybe.”

  “It makes no sense at all,” said Loaf savagely. “Nobody would steal just one.”

  “I would,” said Umbo. “And I saw the hiding place when you dug it up just now. So I’m betting that I did take it.”

  Loaf rounded on him. “Hand it over, then, you little thief.”

  “I didn’t hear you calling Rigg a thief for stealing that knife.”

  “I called him a thief, all right!”

  “That’s right, you did, but you didn’t grab him like you’re grabbing me and it hurts, so stop it! I don’t have the jewel because I didn’t take it!”

  “You said you did.”

  “I said I’m betting that I did, and I really should have said that I’m betting that I will.”

  Loaf sighed and let go of him. “Why? What’s the point?”

  “No point except that when you made your sarcastic remark about how somebody might have taken one, I thought, wouldn’t it be funny if my future self comes back, finds the bag of jewels, and takes out the biggest one. And the moment I thought that, I decided to do it if I got the chance. Now I know I’ll get the chance.”

  “So you’re saying that when you learn how to travel in time, you’re going to use it to play stupid bratty tricks on your friends?”

  “Now you’re getting it.”

  “I ought to break your arm.”

  “But I know you won’t.”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  “Because my arm looked fine when my future self came to visit me. I also know I won’t drown, break my neck falling from a tree, or get my throat slit by a highwayman. I won’t die of some disease and I won’t get struck by lightning, and nobody will beat me to death with a stick.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure.”

  “How can I be anything but sure? I came back and visited me and Rigg! I took the jewel out of the bag!”


  “I wish I could go back and hide the bag in a different place,” said Loaf.

  “Now you’re getting into the fun of it!” said Umbo. “Come on, people always make games out of everything. You did war as your real grownup work—but didn’t you play at war when you were little? I did. All of us did. So when I learn to go back in time, I’ll play with it! Giving warnings is one thing—that’s just showing up and talking. I know I’ll have to prove I can do whatever Rigg did or I’ll feel like I lost the game. He took the knife—from a stranger. I took—I will take—the jewel, but I’m only stealing from us so nobody else will miss it. See? A game.”

  “I’m not having fun yet,” said Loaf.

  “Because you’re old and tired and you know you’re going to die.” And this time, when Loaf made as if to hit him, Umbo dodged away. “See? We’re friends, and I’m teasing you like a friend. See? That’s what normal people do.”

  “It’s not how normal children treat normal grownups,” said Loaf, and he did seem a little angry.

  “But you’re not a normal grownup,” said Umbo. “When you hit me, you don’t really mean to hurt me.”

  “Come a little closer here, Umbo, and we’ll see about that.”

  “My father would have knocked me down and then kicked me a few times,” said Umbo.

  “Too much work,” said Loaf. “You’re not worth it.”

  “Friends!” said Umbo triumphantly.

  “Well, friend,” said Loaf, “I have only one question for you. Where is that jewel now?”

  That kept Umbo silent for quite a while. Was it possible that the jewel had simply left the world? Had it ceased to exist, and then would exist again, out of nowhere, out of nothing? It got Umbo to wondering what it meant to exist at all. When Rigg went back and took the knife, he stayed completely in the real present world—the only difference was that he could see the people from the past, and they could see him, but he was still here. The jewel, though. It was gone.