The Lat stared at her blankly.
"My goodness, I do believe they've sent me a party of mentally subnormals!" exclaimed Nurse. "I thought they were going to be left behind to placate Pecking Pa." She pointed at the row of empty beds down one side of the dormitory. "In there," she said slowly. "Bed."
The Lat shuffled towards the beds and stood looking stupidly down at them.
Nurse sighed and picked up the nearest alien, stripping off his clothing and plumping him down, pulling the bedding over his shivering body. The others hastily began to pull off their own clothes and climbed into bed.
"That's more like it," said Nurse. "You're learning." She turned her hard, blue eyes on Jherek. "Jerry, I think you'd better come to my sitting room. I'd like a word with you now."
Meekly, Jherek followed Nurse down the corridor and into a room whose walls were covered in flock wallpaper, with landscape paintings and little ornaments. Elsewhere was a great deal of chintz and gingham. It reminded Jherek vaguely of the house he had furnished for Mrs. Amelia Underwood.
Nurse rolled to one corner of the room. "Would you like a cup of tea, Jerry?"
"No thank you, Nurse."
"You are probably wondering why I asked you here, when it's long past your bedtime."
"It had occurred to me, Nurse, yes."
"Well," she announced, "my creative-thinking circuits are beginning to come back into play. I think. I've become rather set in my ways, as old robots will, particularly when involved in a temporal recycling operation like this one. You follow me?"
"I do indeed."
"You are older than the other children, so I think I can talk to you. Even," Nurse made an embarrassed rumbling sound somewhere inside her steel chest, "even ask your advice. You think I've become a bit of a stick in the mud, don't you?"
"Oh, not really," Jherek told her kindly. "We all develop habits, over the millennia, which are sometimes hard to lose when we no longer need them."
"I have been thinking about one or two things which you've said this past week. You've been to the surface, evidently."
"Um…"
"Come now, lad, tell the truth. I shan't punish you."
"Yes, I have, Nurse."
"And Pecking Pa is dead?"
"And forgotten." Jherek wriggled uncomfortably in his too-tight pyjamas. "It's been thousands of years since the Age of the Tyrant Producers. Things are much more peaceful these days."
"And these outsiders — they are from the outside time-phase?"
"They are, more or less."
"Which means that paradoxes begin to occur, if we're not careful."
"I gather so, from what I have been told about the nature of Time."
"You've been informed correctly. It means that I must think very carefully now. I knew this moment would come eventually. I have to worry about my children. They are all I have. They are the Future."
"Well, the Past, at least," said Jherek.
Nurse glared sternly at him. "I'm sorry, Nurse," he said. "That was facetious of me."
"My duty is to take them into an age where they will be in no danger," Nurse continued. "And it seems that we have reached that age."
"I am sure they will be very welcome in my society," Jherek told her. "I and one other are the only ones who have been children. My people love children. I am proof of that."
"They are gentle?"
"Oh, yes, I think so. I'm not quite sure of the meaning — you use words which are archaic to me — but I think 'gentle' is a fair description."
"No violence?"
"There you've lost me altogether. What is 'violence'?"
"I'm satisfied for the moment," said Nurse. "I must be grateful to you, Jerry Jester. For all that you are always acting the fool, you're made of decent stuff underneath. You've reawakened me to my chief responsibilities." Nurse seemed to simper (as much as a robot could simper). "You are my Prince Charming, really. And I was the Sleeping Beauty. It would seem that the danger to the children is over and they can be allowed to grow normally. What sort of conditions exist in the outside world? Will they find good homes?"
"Any kind they wish," said Jherek.
"And the climate. Is it good?"
"Whatever one cares to make it."
"Educational facilities?"
"Well," he said, "I suppose you could say that we believe in self-education. But the facilities are excellent. The libraries of the rotted cities are still more or less intact."
"Those other children. They seemed to know you. Are they from your time?" It was plain that Nurse was becoming increasingly intelligent with every passing second.
"They are aliens from another part of the galaxy," Jherek said. "They were chasing me and some of my friends." He explained what had happened.
"Well, they must be expelled, of course," said Nurse, having listened gravely to his account. "Preferably into another period of time where they can do no more harm. And here normal time must replace recycled time. That is merely a question of stopping a process…" Nurse sank into a thoughtful silence.
Jherek had begun to hope. "Nurse," he said. "Forgive me for interrupting, but am I to understand that you have the power to pass people back and forth in Time?"
"Back is very difficult — they are not inclined to stick, in my experience. Forth is much easier. Recycling is," a mechanical chuckle sounded in her throat, "child's play, as it were."
"So you could send me back, say, to the 19th century?"
"I could. But the chances of your staying there for long are poor…"
"I'm aware of the theory. We call it the Morphail Effect in this age. But you could send me back."
"I could, almost certainly. I was programmed specifically for Time Manipulation. I probably know more about it than any other being."
"You would not have to use a time machine?"
"There's a chamber in this complex, but it would not be a machine which moved physically through time. We've abandoned such devices. As a matter of fact, time travel itself, being so uncertain, was pretty much abandoned, too. It was only in order to protect the children that we built this place."
"Would you send me back, Nurse?"
Nurse seemed hesitant. "It's very dangerous, you know. I know that I owe you a favour. I feel stupid for having forgotten my duty. But sending you so far back…"
"I have been before, Nurse. I'm aware of the dangers."
"That's as may be, young Jerry Jester. You were always a wild one — though I could never be as firm with you as I should have been. How I used to laugh, privately, here in my little sitting room, at your antics, at the things you said…"
"Nurse! I think you're slipping again," Jherek warned her.
"Eh? Put another lump of coal on the fire, would you my boy?"
Jherek looked around, but could see no fire.
"Nurse?"
"Aha!" said Nurse. "Send you to the 19th century. A long time ago. A long, long time ago. Before I was born. Before you were born, that's for certain. In those days there were oceans of light and cities in the skies and wild flying beasts of bronze. There were herds of crimson cattle that roared and were taller than castles. There were shrill…"
"To 1896 to be precise, Nurse. Would you do it for me? It would mean a great deal."
"Magics," she continued, "phantasms, unstable nature, impossible events, insane paradoxes, dreams come true, dreams gone awry; nightmares assuming reality. It was a rich time and a dark time…"
"1896, Nurse."