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“Says the man who has been awakened to his full potential,” said Loaf.
“‘Man,’ he calls himself,” murmured Param.
“Let’s be careful about suggesting somebody isn’t quite human anymore,” said Rigg. “Someone might say the same thing about a woman who slices up time, Param. Or someone who sees paths, or someone who can go into the past.”
“Can we just go back eighteen days?” said Olivenko.
“Seventeen to be safe,” said Umbo.
It took a while to work his way backward through the paths of the animals, but then Rigg found the right one. They joined hands and in a moment saw the squirrel scampering away.
And on the hill beyond the Wall, there was not a soul to be seen.
Rigg walked toward the Wall and kept walking. He could feel the presence of the Wall, but it was as if from a distance, as if the feelings were happening to somebody else. It didn’t even slow him down. He turned back to face the others. “It’s there, but it’s manageable,” he said.
The first time he had come through a Wall, Umbo had been holding Param’s hand. This time he held Loaf’s. But Rigg knew Param would not feel abandoned. She had taken Olivenko’s hand already. Param had never needed to learn how to hide yearnings she had never felt before, so it was obvious that she was attracted to Olivenko, that she was offering herself to him in the way that came naturally to women who were filled with desire.
It was impossible that Olivenko did not see this. But as they walked toward Rigg into the Wall, he could see no sign in Olivenko of either fending off Param’s attention or encouraging it. Is he blind? Or is he as inexperienced as Param, and doesn’t realize the significance of the way she stays so very close to him, as if to surround herself with every breath that he exhales?
Why do I know these things? thought Rigg.
Because Father taught me to watch people. He taught me how to see.
I don’t need a facemask. I have Father inside my head.
CHAPTER 11
Yahoos
As they walked down the hill, over the stream, and up the broad, grassy, tree-dotted slope on the other side, Umbo watched closely, looking for any sign of the people who would be there seventeen days later to watch the flyer arrive on the hill. It gave him something to do instead of looking at Param holding Olivenko’s hand.
It was no surprise that Umbo didn’t see anybody; he was no pathfinder like Rigg, and wouldn’t see anybody if they didn’t want to be seen. But Rigg would. “Where are they?” asked Umbo.
“Fewer of them,” said Rigg. “Here and there, some of them underground, and not very close. We were noticed when we started through the Wall, and word spread without anybody having to run around passing the news. People stopped what they were doing and went into hiding. No threat to us that I can see.”
“It’s the threat you don’t see,” said Loaf.
“That was definitely not the facemask talking,” said Olivenko. “Unless it’s able to absorb tired old sayings from the military mind.”
Umbo saw that Loaf, who would have taken umbrage before, now merely smiled. “I’m glad to be back with you, too, Olivenko,” said Loaf.
“Silbom’s left butt cheek,” said Umbo. “Has the facemask made you nice?”
“I was always nice,” said Loaf. “I was just too shy to let it show.”
“One of the locals is moving,” said Rigg. He pointed toward a thick, tall tree perhaps three hundred meters away.
“They can’t get much closer than that,” said Olivenko. “We’re still inside the Wall.”
“Moving toward us?” asked Loaf.
“Climbing the tree,” said Rigg.
“I see now,” said Loaf. “He’s naked.”
Umbo didn’t see anybody. “Isn’t it nice of the facemask to open gaps for your eyes,” said Umbo.
“The facemask didn’t open gaps,” said Loaf.
