The Queen folded up the newspaper, put it aside, and went to sleep … determined to start making some changes the next day.
“The only thing about this that still bothers me,” Urruah was saying, “is where that letter went. I can’t imagine how he got it out of there so fast.”
“But that’s the problem,” said Hwallis to the London and New York teams, earlier that afternoon. “A day for a letter to get to and from Edinburgh? A wholeday?You must be joking.”
The New York team looked at each other.“It’s easy for us to forget,” Huff said, “that once upon a time, when this country had a rail network it could be proud of, and before there were telephones, the mail could come seven times a day—in London, in some parts, as many astwelvetimes a day. And pickups were much more frequent than they are now.”
“The Houses of Parliament have a pickup for members at midnight,” Ouhish said. “That letter would have been on the train to Scotland half an hour later. It would have been in Edinburgh, and delivered, with the first post … some time after five in the morning. No later than seven, anyway. If a reply was passed directly back to the postman, that letter would also have gone on a train within an hour or so, and the reply would have been in London—Windsor, in this case—by the two o’clock post at the latest.”
Rhiow shook her head.“And we think ourehhifhave technology,” she said softly. “Sometimes retrotech has its points.”
They spent the afternoon at the Museum, and said their farewells to Ouhish and Hwallis around four: then went for one last meeting, in Green Park. Artie was out for one last afternoon in London: the next morning he was due to catch the train back to Edinburgh, and after that he would be heading off to a school on the Continent. He was sorrowful, but his basic good cheer would not let the affair be entirely a sad one.
“But will I never see you again,” Artie said, “or Ith?”
“For out own part, it seems unlikely,” Rhiow said. “Mostly wizards don’t do time-work without permission from the Powers. There are too many things that can go wrong. But you will remember us for a long time.”
Probably not forever …she thought, but didn’t say. One of the factors which protected wizardry from revelation was the tendency of humans minds to censor themselves over time, forgetting the “impossible”, recasting the improbable into more acceptable forms. Childhood memories, in particular, were liable to this kind of editing, as theadult mind decided retroactively what things could have happened in the “real world”, and which were dreams. Yet Artie was a little unusual. There was something about him which suggested that he would not easily let go of a memory, and that no matter how impossible something was, if it was true, he would cope with it … and hang on.
“But Ith is another story,” Urruah said. “His time isn’t precisely our time: the universe where he lives is closer to the heart of things … and so a little easier to get in and out of, for him. Also, he outranks us.” Urruah smiled. “He’s a Senior now … and Seniors have more latitude.”
“No matter what else happens,” Fhrio said, “remember that you helped save the Queen, and many millions of people you’ll never know. You’ll never be able to prove it to anybody. But without you, we would not have been guaranteed entry into this timeline … and we couldn’t have been sure to save the others. You did that. It might have been an accident at first … but afterwards, you did it willingly. We won’t forget that, or you … and neither will the Powers.”
Artie smiled at that.“I guess it’s better than nothing.”
“Immeasurably,” Rhiow said.
They parted as sunset drew on, and made their way back to the Mark Lane Underground, where they had lodged the timeslide. As they went underground for the last time in this period, Rhiow looked up into the dirty sky. There was no Moon there, tarnished or otherwise. Depending on whether or not they managed to track back the“seed” event of this chain, it might always wear those terrible scars. But at least now there was a good chance that the world would not.
“So what’s next?” she said to Huff, as they made their way down to the “derelict” platform.
“That book,” he said. “Fhrio, think we’ll be able to wring what we need out of the gate logs when we get back?”
“I feel certain of it,” he said. “And with Siffha’h to power the gating, the way she’s doing now, there shouldn’t be anything that can interfere.”
He sounded positively cheerful, Rhiow thought. She found herself wondering, a little ironically, whether this was because of how well the mission had gone, or whether it was because soon Urruah and Arhu would be leaving.
An unworthy thought. Never mind. It’s all worked out nicely. How good it’s going to be to get home to Iaehh, and let life go back to normaclass="underline" our own gates to take care of, no commuting…
And Rhiow smiled at herself then. Entropy was not about to stop running. Almost certainly something would go wrong with one of their own gates as soon as they got home, something finicky and pointless that would take weeks to put right…
To her horror, the thought was delightful.
They came down to the dark and quiet of the platform, and Urruah woke up the timeslide: its wizardry blazed up into the familiar“hedge” around them as everyone took their appointed places. Rhiow looked around her as Siffha’h stepped into the power point and Fhrio hooked one claw into the wizardry. “Ready?” he said. “Anybody forget anything? Now’s your last chance.”
Tails were flirted“no” all around. “All right, Siffha’h,” he said. “On standby—”
“Now!” she said: reared up, and came down.
The pressure came. Rhiow surrendered herself to it for a change, familiar as it was. For home was on the other side…
NINE
They came out into darkness: darkness so black that not even a Person’s eyes could make anything of it.
For a few moments there was nothing but silence. Then Urruah said,“What in the Queen’s name—?”
The timeslide wizardry collapsed around them, as if something had stomped it flat. All of them looked around them in shock.
“What is it?” said Arhu. “Where’s the light? What’s gone wrong down here?”
“Nothing,” said a soft voice from away off in the darkness. “But something is finally about to go right.”
“Uhoh,” Arhu said, and fell very abruptly silent.
“Auhlae?” Huff said. He stepped forward carefully out of the circle: Rhiow could feel him brush past her. “Are you all right? What’s happened down here?”
“Nothing that hasn’t been promised for a long time,” came the soft voice. Rhiow strained to hear it better. It was Auhlae … but it wasn’t.
“What’s the matter?” Huff said. “Has something gone wrong with the gates?”
Laughter came out of the dark.“That’s always your first question, isn’t it? No, of course not. The gates are fine.”
“Oh … good.” Huff stopped, unable to see where he was going. “Then maybe you can help us find our way out of here, it’s kind of dark …”
“Yes,” Auhlae said … or something using Auhlae’s voice. “A refreshing change, isn’t it? This is the way it should always have been from the beginning. No garish stars, no dirty little life-infested planets, nothing but the cold and the night.” And indeed it was feeling rather cold down here: much more so than it should have even in London in September. “And shortly this is what it will be like on Earth as well. Perhaps not this dark. But no Sun, no heat. Peace and quiet on this worthless little mudball at last.”