Ruins sw-2

by Orson Scott Card

  “But they’ll see us,” said Param.

  “Who?” asked Rigg.

  “The Odinfolders.”

  “Oh, well—they probably will,” said Rigg, “since they seem to cluster around the Wall. But they won’t know to stop us.”

  “Unless the mice send them another Future Book,” said Umbo, laughing.

  “Is that who’s been writing the Books of the Future?” asked Param.

  “No, no,” said Olivenko. “This is the only timestream in which these mice existed. All the other Future Books were sent using the original crude displacement machine, before time-shifting was turned over to the mice and became precise.”

  “And did the Odinfolders—the mice, I suppose—really alter Father’s genes? And create Umbo outright?”

  “Yes,” said Rigg. “But this is the first timestream in which we existed. Ramex was carefully breeding for time-shifting power, but he hadn’t reached us yet, not until the mice intervened. And he would never have reached our level in his breeding program, because Garden would have been destroyed first.”

  They explained to Param all that they had learned in the starship. And Param could see that something else had happened, too—Umbo and Rigg were still a little wary around each other, but Umbo was actually cooperating with Rigg and not arguing with every little thing he said. Something happened on that starship, and Param asked what it was.

  “I died a couple of times,” said Umbo.

  “Really?”

  “Copies of me,” said Umbo. He explained how that worked, and Param nodded. “The way there must have been two versions of me back in the library, when we were running away a minute ago. Six months ago.”

  “Only because your earlier self didn’t see your later self, and so you didn’t turn away from the path in which you time-shifted, you didn’t cause yourself to split,” said Olivenko.

  “But I still died,” said Param.

  “Only it’s all right,” said Umbo, “because we don’t remember dying.”

  “It’s not all right,” said Rigg.

  Param and Umbo both looked at him, waiting for an explanation, and Param was surprised to see how upset Rigg looked.

  “It’s not all right, because I saw you both dead.” He looked away. “I never want to see that again.”

  “Really gruesome?” asked Umbo.

  “There was a version of both of you,” said Rigg, “that felt all the pain and terror of death. You don’t remember it, but it happened.”

  “And by the Odinfolders’ account, the whole world has gone through that many times over,” said Olivenko.

  “Which brings us back to Umbo’s idea,” said Param. “How do you figure the Odinfolders are going to destroy the human race on Earth, if they haven’t made a weapon or even planned what such a weapon might be?”

  “The mice,” said Umbo, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “What can they do?” asked Param.

  “If a breeding pair can make it back to Earth,” said Umbo, “they’ll have maybe a dozen children after three weeks. If only five of them are females, and they reach sexual maturity in six weeks, and they have the same number of female children, five in a generation, how many will they have before that Destroyer fleet is scheduled to take off?”

  Loaf raised a hand. “These mice reach sexual maturity in four weeks. It’s one of the first changes Mouse-Breeder made.”

  “Even without any notion of weaponry when they arrive,” said Umbo, “they’ll have several generations to learn all about it on Earth. And plenty of time in which to carry out the war. They won’t even need to learn about mechanical weapons, anyway. They’re experts on genes. Look what they did to us.”

  Param was in awe. “You think a pair of mice could destroy the human race in a year?”

  “That’s if only one breeding pair makes it through,” said Umbo. “And I’m betting more than that will make it.”

  “Mice are vermin, in the eyes of Earth people,” said Olivenko. “They’ll exterminate them.”

  “They won’t even know the mice are there,” said Umbo. “It won’t be like the library, where they’re out in the open. Mice are good at hiding. And the voyage doesn’t take long.”

  “How will they get off the ship?” asked Param.

  “They’re collectively even smarter than we are,” said Rigg. “They’ll find a way.”

  “And then the Destroyers won’t come,” said Param. “So Garden will be saved.”

  No one answered her. Umbo looked away. Rigg blushed. Was he ashamed of her?

  “That’s true,” said Loaf. “But how is it better to trade the destruction of human life on one planet for another?”

  Param shook her head. “It isn’t, except for one point. This way, the planet that survives is ours. And I count that as very much better than the other way around. Does that make me a monster?”

  “We’re all monsters,” said Loaf, “because we all thought of that. We’re just ashamed of ourselves for thinking it.”

  “I’m not,” said Param.

  And then it occurred to her that that was why Rigg had blushed. Because he was ashamed of her for not being ashamed.

  Which was why Rigg could never have been King-in-the-Tent.

  CHAPTER 17

  Trust

  The whole way to the Wall, Rigg sat in the flyer, looking out the window at the prairies that passed under them, and then the tree-covered hills as they came into the north, where autumn was in full swing again. It made Rigg feel a moment’s nostalgia for his life in the high forests of the Stashi Mountains.

  But then he remembered that those high mountains had a starship under them, and the cliffs that loomed over Fall Ford had been raised by the collision that wiped out most of the native life of Garden. The man who had walked with him and taught him and called him “son” was a machine, and a liar, and when he died he didn’t die at all, but he left Rigg to feel the grief of the loss, and then to puzzle things out without help.

  Now Rigg’s sense of who he was in the world had been torn away again. Son of the royal family, that had been hard enough; target of assassination, he could take that in stride. But now to learn that his real father, Knosso, had been genetically altered to enhance his mental abilities, and those abilities had been passed along to him and Param, and that this genetic alteration had been carried out by semi-humanized mice—it was just too bizarre.

  Is there anything in my life that was not someone else’s plan?

  Even now, there were those two mice perched on Loaf’s shoulders, ostentatiously looking at everything that happened, with all that clever cuteness that mice always had. But Rigg could see the paths of the other mice in the flyer—the ones that had jumped up to hitch rides in everyone’s clothing as they walked to the flyer, the ones that had already climbed in unnoticed as the flyer stood open and waiting. They had at least a hundred mice on this vessel, and yet no one else seemed aware of it. Did Loaf know? Surely he could hear them.

  Rigg should probably mention it. But how would the mice’s behavior change if he called everyone’s attention to their presence?

  Was this just a trial run for the Visitors, to see if the mice could sneak aboard a vessel without humans noticing? Very clever. Humans who didn’t have Rigg’s particular pathfinding ability or Loaf’s facemask-enhanced perceptions wouldn’t have known.

  Or was it an experiment at all? The mice had shown that they could and would kill—would kill them. Just as Odinex had shown that he could murder one of their number. And they had been afraid of Vadesh! By comparison, Vadesh was their best friend.

  No, the mice probably weren’t planning any homicides during this voyage. What were they planning?

  “I wonder how the ships’ computers will interpret my instructions concerning the Wall,” said Rigg.

  Since he was looking at Loaf when he spoke, Loaf answered him. “Which instructions?”

  “I told them that anybody who was with me could pass through the
Wall when I did. But how do we define ‘anybody’?” Rigg glanced at the mice that Loaf was wearing like animated epaulets.

  Loaf nodded thoughtfully. “You’re saying they can’t get through the Wall.”

  “I’m saying that I don’t know.”

  “So the philosophical question of personhood,” said Olivenko, “has practical consequences.”

  “It always does,” said Param. “Those we would kill, we first turn into nonpersons.”

  “Dangerous not to be a person,” said Umbo. “Or to be an extra copy of a person.”

  “Individually, these mice are bright enough, but not really up to individual human standards, is that right?” said Rigg. “I’d like to know their own assessment.”

  “They need each other,” said Loaf. “They specialize, and so they can’t really function at their highest level when they’re alone.”

  “These two on your shoulders,” said Rigg. “They function like one human? Or less?”

  “Less,” said Loaf. “Or so they tell me. They’re mostly here for data collection.”

  “I’d like to collect a little data,” said Rigg. “Are they a breeding pair?”

  The mice froze and stared at Rigg.

  “How interesting,” said Loaf. “They’ve been chattering constantly until you asked that.”

  “It’s what they plan to do with the Visitors, yes?” asked Rigg. “Get aboard their ship, go to Earth, and then breed their brains out.”

  “They’re a breeding pair,” said Loaf.

  Rigg did not mention that there were almost certainly many dozens of breeding pairs among the rest of the mice aboard. “So if we take them into Larfold, they intend to establish themselves there?”

  The mice immediately struck the pose that showed that they were speaking into Loaf’s ears. But Rigg had long since decided that this pose was just for show. Loaf could hear them perfectly well no matter which way they faced, and they were so small that at any distance—like across the cabin of the flyer—it was nearly impossible to see when their lips moved in speech. So they struck this pose when they wanted to be seen to be speaking.

  “They say the thought hadn’t occurred to them,” said Loaf.

  Rigg said nothing. Nor did anyone else.

  “All right, they admit that was a lie,” said Loaf. “They do intend to colonize Larfold. They say that since the people of Larfold live in the ocean, the land is fallow and there’s no reason not to use it.”

  “It would be the first invasion of one wallfold by the people of another,” said Rigg.

  “Not an invasion,” said Loaf. “Colonization.”

  “And the colonization of Garden was so gentle on the natives the first time around,” said Olivenko.

  “Since we’re going into Larfold in the past, it will give them many generations there before the Visitors come,” said Umbo.

  “If they make weapons in Odinfold,” said Param, “and bring down destruction on that wallfold, they will still survive in Larfold—along with the knowledge of weapons-making, I assume.”

  “So many possible plans,” said Rigg. “No, I don’t think I’ll let them pass through the Wall.”

  Again they chattered into Loaf’s ear.

  “Tell them not to bother with another set of lies,” said Rigg.

  “They know,” said Loaf. “They want you to understand that they assumed you would see them all, and didn’t understand why you hadn’t already mentioned their presence.”

  “Another lie,” said Rigg. “They didn’t have to come stealthily, they could have done it openly. They chose to be deceptive.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Umbo.

  “There are more than a hundred mice on the flyer,” said Rigg. “Since they were traveling ‘with’ us, I suppose they thought that would qualify them to go through the Wall.”

  “Where are they?” asked Param.

  “There are two in your hair,” said Rigg.

  Param shrieked and combed through her hair with her fingers; the mice leapt out onto the seat back and then out of sight behind the chairs.

  “In all our clothes,” said Rigg. “I’d appreciate it if they’d all assemble here in plain sight.”

  Within moments, a swarm of mice was visible, tightly packed on the floor, perched on chair backs, and at the controls of the flyer.

  “The flyer is not to obey any commands from the mice,” said Rigg.

  “Understood,” said the voice of the ship’s computer.

  “Have they given you any commands?” asked Rigg.

  “They chose the point where the flyer should land,” said the ship’s voice.

  “Silbom’s left . . .” began Umbo.

  “This is way beyond Silbom,” said Olivenko.

  “I didn’t hear them command anything,” said Loaf.

  “They click their teeth, they tap their toes,” said the ship’s voice. “They slide and brush against surfaces, they sigh and gasp. It is a language as complete as any other. They taught me centuries ago.”

  “Were they prepared to crash the flyer?” asked Rigg.

  “Yes,” said the ship’s voice. “If you made any attempt to kill them, I was to make a fatal impact into the ground.”

  “So I’m not in charge of you at all,” said Rigg.

  “You had not yet commanded me not to obey the mice.”

  “Very smart group,” said Rigg. “Much smarter than we are, with so many here.”

  “Not really,” said Loaf. “They can handle more tasks and recall more data, when there are this many. But they aren’t any wiser, necessarily. It depends on how you define ‘smart.’ ”

  “After all the times we’ve been lied to,” said Umbo, “I can’t believe I was believing mice.”

  “They’re so cute,” said Param bitterly.

  “Fatally,” said Umbo.

  “I’m afraid our rodent companions have the odd notion that because they created us, after a fashion, they can do with us whatever they want,” said Rigg.

  The mice sat rigid, regarding him steadily.

  “It’s the mistake a lot of parents make about their children,” Olivenko added.

  “I give an order that must survive my death. No mice will be allowed to pass through the Wall, ever.”

  “Understood,” said the ship’s voice.

  “And agreed to?” asked Rigg.

  “Your commands cannot survive your death,” said the ship’s voice. “But we agree with the desirability of this command and we will continue to respect it.”

  “The jewels confer authority only on persons of human shape,” said Rigg. “Is that rule agreed to?”

  “Yes,” said the ship’s computer.

  “They think you’re a bigot,” said Loaf.

  “I think they’ve proven themselves to regard the killing of humans as one of their rights,” said Rigg. “That puts them in a different category.”

  “They’re saying all kinds of soothing things,” said Loaf. “But I don’t believe them, and so it’s hardly worth telling you what they’re saying.”

  The mice all turned as one to face Loaf.

  “I think you just pissed them off,” said Umbo.

  “Do you want the flyer to proceed to the landing place the mice selected?” asked the ship’s voice.

  “Yes,” said Rigg. “I’m assuming that many thousands of mice are already waiting there, expecting to cross into Larfold. We might as well have a conversation with this squad of would-be colonists as a whole.”

  “They don’t have to listen to you,” said Loaf. “That’s what they just said to me.”

  “And we don’t have to listen to them,” said Rigg. “We also don’t have to take any of them with us into the past.”

  “They think they know how to attach to your timefield as you shift,” said Loaf. “They tried it out when you went back to get Param.”

  “I wonder if that’s true,” said Rigg.

  “They’re practically screaming that it’s very, very true,�
�� said Loaf.

  “Just what they’d do if it were a lie,” said Olivenko.

  “Suppose one mouse always lies, and one always tells the truth,” said Loaf.

  “Ask one if he’s a liar, and then ask the other one if the first one told the truth,” said Param. “That’s an old one.”

  “The trouble is,” said Rigg, “they might both be liars. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we can’t believe anything they say.”

  “I think there are too many of them,” said Olivenko. “They have a lot of redundancy. I think a little mouse-stomping would thin the herd.”

  Mice skittered away from him.

  “It’s our one advantage,” said Olivenko. “We can break their little skulls under our feet.”

  “Or between our fingers,” said Umbo. “Much less elaborate than sliding a slab of metal into Param’s throat while she’s time-slicing.”

  “I don’t think we need to declare war quite yet,” said Rigg. “Besides, from the paths I’m seeing, there are several dozen who are not out in the open here. They’re all deep inside the machinery of the flyer. I think that regardless of who actually commands the flyer, this vehicle will crash if the mice feel threatened.”

  “Good guess, they say,” said Loaf.

  “And we can’t jump back in time,” pointed out Umbo, “since we’d materialize in midair before the flyer got here, and plummet to the ground.”

  “Thanks for pointing out our powerlessness,” said Param.

  “They call it a stalemate,” said Loaf.

  “Not really,” said Rigg. “Not while we might save the world, and they might not. We need each other. But let’s say that I’m open to discussion when we reach the Wall.”

  “I’m not,” said Umbo. Rigg saw that Umbo immediately regretted his defiant tone. He held up his hands as if to erase what he had just said.

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m going to do all the talking,” said Rigg with a grin.

  “What are you going to say?” asked Param.

  “Anything I say to you,” said Rigg, “they can hear.”

  “I can hear whatever they say to each other,” said Loaf.