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Snow on the ground, gone, back, gone, deeper, melted, back again, gone again. And then spring, a profusion of green; a summer just long enough to feel the heat, and then it was cool and the leaves were gone and the grass was brown and there was snow again. Spring. Summer. And Param slowed down the world around them and gradually they came to a stop.
It was night. There was no one on the beach, no one farther inland either, as far as they could tell.
Rigg could always tell where other people were, or whether they were there at all, thought Umbo. I wish that he were here.
But then the wish passed from him. He didn’t want to be dependent on Rigg right now. He and Param could do this thing alone.
“I don’t think we want to be seen,” said Umbo. “I think we want to watch from hiding.”
“Then let’s turn invisible,” said Param with a smirk. “It’s my best trick anyway.” She took his hand again, and walked with him toward a stand of trees and bushes, as the night raced by around them.
Even when they came to a stop amid the trees, and the sun rose swiftly, Param kept on slicing time. But now the world was moving slowly enough that they could see the blur of scurrying mice. Mice everywhere among the trees and grass.
Mice going into and out of holes in the ground.
Of course they don’t build buildings. They dig holes. They don’t have to shore up tunnels so they don’t cave in; mice can move through such tiny passages that they hold themselves up without any additional support. These fields could now be a city of a hundred million mice, and no one above the surface would know it.
Rigg would know, because of the paths. But could even he sort through the movements of all these tiny mammals?
The great hole in Umbo’s plan was now obvious. They could move into the future, but where in the future did they want to be? Where would the Visitors come, when they came to Larfold?
If they came to Larfold. There was a thought. What if the Visitors saw no trace of human habitation in Larfold, and so didn’t bother to come there?
What if the mice had insisted on invading Larfold precisely because they knew the Visitors would not come, and perhaps the Destroyers would not destroy the wallfold because they thought no humans lived there? After all, the account of the destruction of “all” of Garden in the Future Books might not be accurate.
Or maybe this was where the mice were trying to construct underground shelters where they could live for decades without coming to the surface. Maybe they meant to wait until Garden was habitable again, and only then emerge and inherit the world.
Why did we always assume the mice were trying to attack Earth? All they had to do was hide deep enough to escape notice.
How much about the mice was in the ships’ logs? Would the Destroyers be looking for them? They couldn’t have been on any previous visit, because the mice had only existed for the first time on this go-round.
The Visitors will come to Larfold, thought Umbo. They’ll be thorough. The ships’ logs will tell them that there was a colony here and that somehow it went underwater. So they’ll come here looking for the site of the colony.
And that’s where we are, or nearly so.
Umbo raised a hand in a stopping gesture, and Param slowed them down. The mice resumed a normal pace—which was still pretty frantic. Almost instantly, there were mice on their clothing, up on their shoulders.
“You know who we are,” said Umbo softly. “We’re about to go into the future. If you want to see your families again, get off.”
The mice understood and scampered down their clothing and got about a meter away before they turned and sat watching Umbo and Param.
“Why did you make us stop?” asked Param.
“We want to be about three hundred meters that way.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s where the colony was, so that’s where the Visitors will come.”
Almost at once, the mice took off in the direction Umbo had indicated. “It’s nice to be regarded as an authority by somebody,” he said.
“Since the mice already know where we’re going, can we just walk there in realtime?”
“Sure,” said Umbo. “Though if there are any Larfolders on shore, they’ll see us. Not to mention the Visitors themselves, who might be watching from space right now.”
Param sighed. “I’ve spent plenty of time slicing time already. A little more won’t kill me.”
Though of course if the mice decided to try their little stunt with metal again, it might kill her. “Never mind,” said Umbo. “I prefer to walk in realtime myself.” He let go of her hand and started to walk out into the open.
