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Rigg dropped Ram Odin’s weapon, then took the jeweled knife from his belt and held it in the field where the ship’s computer could recognize it.

“Is there any other living soul who can take the command of these ships and computers from me?” Rigg asked.

“No,” said the ship’s computer.

“Is there anyone in stasis who can take command away from me?”

“No,” said the ship’s computer.

“Is there anyone in the universe who can take it?”

“No,” said the ship’s computer.

But this could not possibly be true. Then Rigg realized what he had actually asked, and phrased the question in another way. “Is there any person or machine that can take control of the ships against my will?”

“Yes,” said the ship’s computer. “Upon synchronizing with any starship authorized by the admiralty, I must surrender complete control to that computer.”

That was the thing that Ram Odin must have feared. But Rigg did not fear it. And so Rigg would not have to destroy the world to prevent it.

Only when he had this information did Rigg Pathfinder put out his hand to touch the shoulder of the man that he had killed.

Ram Odin fell forward onto the console.

Rigg could sense, as clearly as by sight, the eleven-thousand-year-old path in which a different copy of Ram Odin also slumped forward in this very chair, onto this very console, his neck broken by the expendable that stood behind him.

“Kill or be killed,” murmured Rigg.

How many animals had he killed when he found them still struggling in his traps? A number immediately came to his mind but he ignored it. Sometimes accuracy at facemask levels was simply not appropriate. Rigg had killed again and again. He knew the feel of life giving way to non-life. He knew the slackness of the empty body.

But this time, this time, it was a man. It was this man. It was Ram Odin. And, his hand still resting on the dead man’s back, Rigg wept.

CHAPTER 24

Destroyers

Having once used Param’s time-slicing ability to skip ahead into the future, Umbo and Param saw no reason to wait three years to see whether they had made the right choice in warning the Visitors about the stowaway mice. Umbo suggested it, but Param agreed at once and she proposed it to the others.

“We can’t go back into Odinfold—for all we know, the mice are planning some kind of vengeance. And even if they’re not, there’s nowhere here in Larfold for us to live while we wait three years.”

“We were spoiled by our life in Odinfold,” said Loaf. “More luxury than during our time as wealthy hotel patrons in O.”

“And a better library,” said Umbo.

“Did we find King Knosso here, alive, only to leave him behind?” asked Olivenko.

“Why not invite him to come into the future with us?” suggested Umbo. “If it turns out the Destroyers arrive on schedule, we’ll be returning to the past in order to try something else to block them. We can take Knosso with us.”

“What about Rigg?” asked Loaf. “He won’t know where we’ve gone. And he can’t skip into the future without Param.”

“If Rigg wants to join us,” said Umbo, “he can come to this spot and find our paths and shift into this moment.”

“If he doesn’t come to us before we begin our journey forward,” said Param, “then it means that he chose not to.”

“And that’s all you have for Rigg?” asked Loaf.

“He’s the one who left us,” said Olivenko.

“We don’t know if he’ll even be himself after he has the facemask,” said Param.

“If Vadesh doesn’t kill him,” said Olivenko. “He chose to walk into danger.”

Loaf sat looking at the sand in front of him.

“Loaf,” said Umbo, “don’t forget who and what we are. If Rigg doesn’t join us at the end of the world, then no matter which way it goes with the Destroyers, we can always go back and find him.”

“And stop him from getting himself destroyed by this?” asked Loaf, gesturing toward his own face.

“Why do you assume that it destroys him?” asked Umbo.

“Because I know how close it came to destroying me.”

“And you think that Rigg is weaker?” asked Param.

“Rigg is a child,” said Loaf.

Umbo laughed. “And so is Param, and so am I.”

“You’re not going up against a facemask,” said Loaf stubbornly.

“We’re going up against Destroyers,” said Umbo.

“We’re going to see if they come,” said Loaf, “and then run away if they do.”

“Rigg is stronger than you think,” said Umbo.

“Stronger than I am?” asked Loaf.

“Strong enough,” said Umbo. “It wasn’t physical stamina that prevailed over the facemask, was it?”

“No,” said Loaf. “It was strength of will.”

“And you think Rigg lacks that?” asked Umbo.

“He’s always been so eager to please,” said Loaf.

“He’s eager to do right,” said Umbo. “That’s not the same thing at all.”

Knosso came to them when the sun was high enough to warm the beach to a tolerable temperature. When they proposed the jaunt into the future, he agreed at once. “I thought my passage through the Wall was the only adventure of my life. Now you’ve brought another to me here at the end of the world.”

“Did you already know it was the end?” asked Umbo.

“Oh yes,” said Knosso. “The Landsman told us—told the people of the sea. Many generations ago. From what you’ve said of the Odinfolders, he told us as soon as the Book of the Future appeared in Odinfold.”

“So Larfold was informed,” said Olivenko, “but not the people of Ramfold.”

“In Ramfold,” said Param, “they made us. And who would have believed such a prophecy, anyway? Here they know what their expendable is. In Ramfold, he’s a legend. A myth. A miracle man.”

“Worldwalker,” said Umbo.

“The Golden Man,” said Olivenko.

“The Undying One,” said Loaf.

“The Gardener,” said Param. “And even Rigg, who called him Father—what would he have done with the information, if Ramex had told him? It would have deformed the history of Ramfold. Whereas Larfold—does it really have a history?”

“Didn’t you hear Auntie Wind’s account?” asked Knosso.

“They have tales and memories,” said Param. “But nothing changes. Life under the sea is—”

“Is filled with infinite variety,” said Knosso.

“But no events,” said Param.

“You don’t even have weather down there,” said Umbo. “Or seasons.”

“Well, that’s not quite true,” said Knosso, “but it’s close enough. I’m happy there. But no, we have no wars, apart from the constant struggle against the great predators of the open sea, which forces us to remain a single tribe, united to defend against them. After eleven thousand years, the monsters have learned to avoid our shore. But the Larfolders have been wise enough never to hunt the great killers of the sea to extinction. They could have done it—the barrier of the Wall keeps the sharks and orcas trapped inside, where they could never have escaped from our harpoons, if we had wanted to kill them all.”

“So you keep your nemesis alive,” said Param.

Umbo noticed that Knosso had switched from “they” to “we.” He’s no longer a man of Ramfold. He might be glad of our adventure, of a chance to slice time with us, but he’s happy with the Larfold life. This is the world he wants to save. He dreams of no triumphant return to Ramfold.

And if we ever went to Ramfold, it might be triumphant for Param and Rigg, as royals; they might be able to rally an army to defeat General Citizen and Hagia Sessamin and take their place in the Tent of Light. But there’d be no place for me.

Then, because he had thought of Rigg and Param as King- or Queen-in-the-Tent, it occurred to Umbo that, Ramfold history being what it was, Rigg and Param might easily become rivals there, and fight a bitter civil war between those who wanted a king and those who still believed that Aptica Sessamin had been right to kill the men of the royal line, allowing only queens to rule in the Tent of Light. And there would be others who wanted to restore the People’s Republic, and probably the loyal followers of General Citizen would make yet another faction, and it would be a thrilling history, and they would all be desperately unhappy and lead exciting, terrible, tragic lives.