“But we have witnessed a very specific circumstance under which information can be moved backwards in time. This is entirely outside my own experience, and I had not believed it possible. However, having now examined the evidence, it would appear that the Ediacaran is repeatedly seeding timelines within the same possibility-space. This is creating multiple temporary waveforms—each of them with the potential to be a functioning, permanent timeline. Owing to the nature of such coalescing potential timelines, as we discussed in that alternate past we neither of us have memories of, the inception point forms prior to the conception point, so that when the conceiver—the Ediacaran—beholds the new timeline, that timeline is found to have diverged from the parent universe sometime before the date of access. Just as Murther’s people found when they accessed the timeline they created, in which your people had supplanted hers. We, you and I now, are part of one of these temporary waveforms. And the Ediacaran has been able to seed this timeline with information gleaned from the collapse of prior waveforms. Thus it has used the principles of timeline generation to provide us with cautionary information about how our future might transpire if we take certain actions.”

“So where—or no, when is the Ediacaran, in its own timeline, when it’s creating these new lines?” Mal pressed tentatively.

“At the end,” Cam said solemnly. “At the very end of its existence, in its last seconds. Otherwise it would not be able to assess the success of our various efforts. Or rather, to learn from our failures.”

“So this is happening when it’s given up and is letting go,” Lee said. “And so everything is starting to fall over where it is…”

“But it’s still generating waveforms before it hits the ground,” Mal finished for her.

“That reflects our best assessment,” Cam confirmed. “With the caveat that, frankly, we are all very much out of our depth.” And it gave them what was just recognizable as a human smile. Cam had come a long way too.

“Good figure of speech, there,” Lee said.

“I try. It is what I am for.”

“We need to talk to Kay, maybe?” Mal pressed. “Bring her in on this, because half a degree in English did not prep me for this. Let me go hunt her out.”

Lee was left with the trilobite’s avatar, which had started to lose tension and return to its corn doll state, all bristling angles and spines. Struck by a sudden thought, she said, “Cam?”

It cocked its head, a small motion, but she knew it would have shifted its entire body to compensate.

“How much of you is here, paying attention to this? I know I’m talking to some really fancy antennae, right? It’s just…you’ve become like a person, to talk to. Take that however you want, good or bad.”