This Burden Must Pass—or Quero, as Pila insisted on calling him—didn’t fit into this colony of child soldiers. He was too tall, too old, too experienced. He sat in Pirius’s commandeered office with a relaxed calm, and yet somehow dominated the room. He was centered, that was the word; he made Pirius feel young, unformed.

Pirius said, “You’re a good flyer. Your training record is clear about that.”

“Thank you.”

“And you’re good at keeping yourself alive. I’d want you in my squadron for those qualities alone.”

Burden nodded. But as he took in the notion that Pirius was offering him a flight post he avoided Pirius’s gaze, oddly. “Whatever you say.”

Pirius delivered his standard line. “I’m reluctant to draft you. I want volunteers, if I can get them; the mission is going to be tough enough as it is without reluctant conscripts.”

“You’re wise.”

“But the point is,” Pirius said, “there are many others here on Quin who won’t consider coming with me unless you are there. I don’t understand the hold you have over them.”

“I suppose I give them hope,” Burden said.

“It’s this philosophy of yours, isn’t it? You’re a Wignerian. You believe that all of this,” he waved a hand, “will be wiped out when—”

“When we reach timelike infinity,” said Pila coldly. She regarded Burden with undisguised loathing. For all her cynicism, she was a strict Druzite, and Burden’s non-conformity shocked her. “You’re only here because you’re an opinion former.” She waved manicured fingers. “Out there, in that pit you call a barracks.”

“I don’t want to form anyone’s opinion. I’m only myself.”

“Garbage,” Pila said. “I’m astonished the commanders here tolerate your deviance. I wouldn’t, for a second.”

“You’ll get used to it. And after all, it doesn’t matter. This burden must pass,” Burden said, and he grinned.

“In any case,” she said, “it doesn’t make any difference if you join us or not. Because whatever we do, all of this will be erased anyhow, won’t it? And so what’s the point of getting out of your bunk?”

“There is always a point,” Burden said mildly. “All the worldlines contribute to the whole, in some sense beyond our understanding. And of course there are always the people around you. You must care for them, as they care for you. I do believe in timelike infinity, in the final convergence—”

Pirius nodded. “But we have a duty to behave as if it’s not so. As if this is the only chance we get.”

Burden eyed him. “You understand. You and I—I mean, Pirius Blue—have had long discussions about these points. You’re deeper than you look, Pirius Red.”

“Thanks,” Pirius said. “Look, I’m not interested in your endorsement for myself. But it seems I need it to get my job done. Will you fly with me?”

Now the moment of commitment had come, and Pirius, watching Burden closely, thought he saw a flash of fear in his eyes. There were depths to this strange man, he realized. “You can refuse if you want,” he said, groping for understanding.