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“Home,” said Loaf. “Like this?”
“Yes,” said Rigg. “You must go home. If this had come on you as the result of some horrible skin disease, she would stay with you. Let her choose for herself, Loaf. You know it’s what Leaky would insist on.”
Loaf grumbled and looked away. He had no argument—he knew that Rigg was right. Loaf was good at giving out wise-and-tough advice, but not so happy to receive it.
“Umbo will go with you,” said Rigg, “so that if things don’t work out right, he can help you try it again and again until it’s fine. And I think you should go back to a time soon after you left her the last time.”
“That’s before you opened up the Wall,” said Umbo.
In reply, Rigg handed him the jeweled knife. “Use the Larfold flyer to get to the Ramfold Wall, and then call the Ramfold flyer to take you back to Leaky’s Landing. It won’t be safe for you to go over land. Even if General Citizen isn’t looking for you, Loaf’s too pretty now to wander around in Stashiland without attracting a lot of attention.”
They agreed, even Umbo, without a hint of resentment. For once, they simply recognized that Rigg wasn’t giving orders, he was just stating the obvious.
No one asked, and Param didn’t volunteer, to say what she would do. If she went with them, she could take them back into the future. But if she stayed with her father in Larfold, she’d have no way of escaping
back into the past next time the Destroyers came.
Whatever happened would happen. Umbo would make his way back to Param, or Param would decide to go with Umbo and Loaf. Olivenko would make his own decisions, too, and for all Rigg knew, Knosso and Olivenko would get Umbo to push them to some era far in the past, where they could live out their lives without any further complications or sudden ending of the world.
The group was breaking up. Maybe it would come back together. Maybe there would be some reconfiguration that would have Rigg in it. Rigg didn’t know.
What he knew was this: He could not live on with the knowledge that he had killed the wrong man. Loaf had said it long ago. It’s good to prevent a murder, but killing isn’t the only way. Rigg could stop Ram Odin from stabbing him in the back without going back and stabbing Ram Odin first. He had been so sure that Ram Odin was a monster that he never had the chance to find out if he was a man, or at least discover how he justified his lies and manipulations to himself.
Rigg got Umbo to call the flyer for him, and with a brief good-bye and a wave, he took off once again for the Wall. But now, without the knife, when he crossed the Wall he was on foot.
And that was how he wanted it. He went back in time a thousand years and traveled through the pristine wilderness of Vadeshfold. If Vadesh knew that he was there, so be it. Vadesh was a complicated machine, and knew far more than he ever told. But he had been right about the facemasks, and the people who extincted the human race in Vadeshfold had been mistaken, though their mistake was understandable. This symbiosis between mask and man was a good thing. Not for everyone; maybe only for a handful of people who were content to sacrifice their own eyes and ears to have these better, uglier ones put in their place. And maybe someday Rigg would get used to this terrible new face and not be frightened or saddened by his own reflection.
Today, though, each day, each hour of walking through the forest, trapping an animal now and then when need arose, but mostly living lightly, working off the little bit of adiposity that life in Odinfold had given him, Rigg was as happy as he had ever been since Father “died.” Yes, he was alone, but he needed to be alone; until now, he had not really understood how painful and heavy it was to have the needs of others always in his heart and on his mind.
I have only my own need now—to unmake my crime and see if that will clean my soul.
Near the starship, Rigg sliced his way in great leaps forward into the future, to the time only a week after he had killed Ram Odin. Now he made himself obvious, walking into the empty ruins of the city, inviting Vadesh to come for him.
Vadesh did not pretend to be happy to see him. This was a Vadesh who knew of the murder but did not know of the end of it all, with the Destroyers once again burning Garden’s life away. This Vadesh only knew that Rigg had gone away, leaving Vadesh to dispose of Ram Odin’s corpse.
“What business do we have now?” Vadesh asked him.
“I was right about many things, but wrong about Ram Odin,” said Rigg.
“I told you that, and you refused to undo it.”
“I’m here to undo it now, and then you’ll never remember that I did it, because I won’t have done it.”
Vadesh gave a little bent smile—the smile that Father used when Rigg got an answer half right, or said something smart-alecky. “You passed through the Wall, Rigg. The ship’s log will remember that version of history. And you’ll remember, won’t you.”
“That’s right, Vadesh. I’ll remember. Thanks for making sure I know how unredeemable I am.”
Vadesh took him down and once again they rode the highspeed tram through the tunnel to the starship; once again they crossed the bridge. Vadesh went with Rigg into the control room, where Ram Odin’s blood still stained the console.
“You didn’t clean it up?” asked Rigg.
“I wasn’t expecting company,” said Vadesh.
“I’ll clean it now, by making sure this blood was never spilled,” said Rigg.
Rigg looked at the paths, his own and Ram Odin’s, to make sure he was positioned in the right place before he went back in time to fix this thing. But first, he turned to Vadesh. “You could save a lot of trouble, you know, by simply telling me the truth.”
“I’ve never told you anything but the truth.”
