Visitors (Pathfinder 3) - Page 67

e remnant of human life here? No, there were other monuments—the Tower of O was also of fieldsteel. And there were nineteen craters and upthrusts scattered around the world, where starships had crashed deliberately into the crust and changed the planet’s speed of rotation, lengthening the day and adding more debris to the Ring in the sky that made it so no clear night on Garden was ever fully dark.

That’s all we leave behind us. A few buildings and nineteen deformations of the land.

“Have you come for your facemask?” Vadeshex emerged from the door of the building where he had first served them water.

“For a drink, I suppose,” said Umbo. “And water for the ­others, though I didn’t bring their water bags.”

“I anticipated that,” said Vadeshex. “Being an old friend of the family, so to speak, I thought to welcome Leaky to Vadeshfold with some refreshment, food and drink. But she isn’t with you.”

“We ran into a messenger. From the future.”

“Then the messenger was you.”

“Not me but yes, a version of me from a future that now will never happen. He warned us that the facemask doesn’t work on Leaky. You don’t happen to have a milder version, do you? Maybe not so effective, but also easier to adapt to and get control of?”

Vadeshex shook his head. “The one your friends wear is the mildest one I’ve ever been able to breed. Facemasks are invasive. They’re not for everyone.”

“How did you choose Loaf?”

“I didn’t,” said Vadeshex.

“It was just chance?”

“It was Ram Odin who chose. He observed, and he said, Loaf, and no other until Rigg is ready.”

“So he judged us and knew who was strong enough.”

“It isn’t about strength,” said Vadesh. “It’s about self-­mastery.”

Umbo chuckled. “And here I thought my future self was terribly wise and analytical, to come up with that.”

“He was wise to explain it to you that way, though, don’t you think?” asked Vadeshex. “The woman is apt to flare up at anything, isn’t she?”

“You don’t know her.”

“Once you brought the jewels into Ramfold in the era you arrived in, Ramex knew she was important and he went to the roadhouse as a customer. He has seen her temper. It’s a marvel to behold, but then she’s filled with regret and self-recrimination. Like you.”

“We know what self-control looks like in other people,” said Umbo, “and wish we had it for ourselves.”

“Oh, you have it,” said Vadeshex. “It just doesn’t kick in until you’ve already said and done things you can’t unsay and can’t undo. Though of course you can. But it does cut out a chunk of reality and discard it in the invisible dustbin of lost futures.”

“You saw me save Kyokay.”

“And saw you cause a disastrous change in futures.”

“How can you know that?”

“You were carrying the jewels. They came back in time with you when you undid your mistake. Any future in which you carried the jewels—on the knife or in a bag—and then come back with them, we have a record of it, at least the part surrounding you. But when you send a message, the jewels don’t come back, so those futures are lost.”

“If I send a message, I don’t run the risk of copying myself. The world can find a use for two Riggs, but I can’t even find a use for the one Umbo.”

“There you go. You couldn’t stop yourself from that bit of self-pity.”

“I didn’t try to stop myself.”

“But you feel contempt for yourself for having said it, yes?”

Umbo shrugged. “If you have food for them, can you bring it?”

Tags: Orson Scott Card Pathfinder Fantasy
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