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She hesitated a moment, then followed him.
“I wonder,” said Umbo, “what would happen if I peed while time-slicing. I mean, as soon as the piss leaves my body, it’s not part of me. So does it keep moving in sliced time, or does it immediately become part of realtime? So I’d pee, and it’s like it would move really fast and hit the ground almost before I peed it.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me listen to something so disgusting,” said Param.
“Come on, you can’t tell me you never thought of it. I bet you tried it.”
“It was better when we were slicing time,” said Param. “We couldn’t talk then.”
“So if you don’t like what I think of to say, you say something.”
For a minute or two she remained silent. Then she spoke. “Thank you for not making me slice time when the mice knew where I’d be.”
“I think if they wanted us dead, they’d find a way, but sure, I could see why you didn’t want to do it. And I didn’t want you to run the risk either.”
“So thanks,” she said.
Umbo wanted to laugh. It was such a simple thing, saying thanks, but for her it was hard. Probably not hard to say thanks—just hard to say it to him.
“We’re going to have to slice time eventually, though,” said Param. “We didn’t pack a lunch.”
Something perverse in him made Umbo return to the previous subject. “Farting, too,” said Umbo. “Bet it completely fades before we can smell it, if you fart while slicing time. And no, I absolutely won’t believe it if you tell me you never did that while slicing time.”
“I never—”
“I have sisters,” said Umbo. “Girls fart and snore and belch and pee and all the really gross offenses. They just pretend they don’t, and expect everybody else to go along with the lie.”
Umbo expected Param to say something cutting. Or move away from him in disgust. Or disappear.
Instead she farted.
“Oh, you couldn’t wait till we time-sliced,” said Umbo.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“I’m sure it was a collective fart from all the mice around us.”
“The mice broke wind?” she said. “How advanced of them. They have evolved to the level of boys. Still, that leaves a long way to go.”
Umbo smiled. Only a little. Maybe she wouldn’t notice. Wasn’t it amazing that she could say rude things one moment and it felt like hatred, and then say equally rude things the next moment, and it sounded like an offer of friendship.
They reached the boundary of the colony, as far as he remembered from the map in the flyer’s display. But he had a good memory for where things were, a good eye for landmarks. It was here.
“Tired?” asked Umbo.
“You woke me out of a sound sleep two years ago and I’ve been walking continuously since,” said Param. “How could I be tired?”
“Can you slice time in your sleep?”
Param hesitated. “Sometimes I wondered if I disappeared in my sleep. If it was such a reflex that I slept all night but only got a couple of hours’ sleep.”
“Tired all the time?”
“I wanted to go back to bed the moment I woke up.”
“Sounds like my mother,” said Umbo.
Param was about to say something, then thought better of it.
