“So you’re the one who planned all this,” said Param to Ram Odin.

“I’m the one who made decisions when they had to be made,” said Ram Odin. “Sometimes good ones, sometimes bad. Most of the important decisions were made by someone else. But I accept responsibility for what I’ve done wrong. For things I’ve unleashed on the world. Like the mice. And, in a way, the three of you. Four of you now. The timeshapers.”

“Look how happy he is,” said Loaf. “Almost quivering with excitement. After studying you remotely all these years, he finally gets to meet you face to face.”

“Quivering?” asked Ram.

Noxon answered him. “It’s a subtle vibration,” he said, “but the facemask makes it as obvious as breaking into a jig.”

Umbo could not understand why having two Riggs made him so angry. Was it his old envy coming back? Was he so foolish as to be jealous because there was only one of him? Or frightened because now there were two timeshapers more powerful than him and Param? “I’m glad you were able to undo the killing,” said Umbo. “What now?”

Rigg shrugged. But Noxon answered, “I know what I’m thinking of doing, but I can’t decide for anyone else.”

Umbo thought: The two Riggs have already diverged.

Or maybe it was just that Rigg, the one who had killed Ram Odin, was stricken silent by Umbo’s reference to undoing his “killing,” while it meant far less to Noxon, who had no memory of the deed.

“So . . . are you going to tell us?” asked Olivenko.

“I’m going to Earth,” said Noxon. “If I can master the skills it will take to get there. Because I’m not going with the Visitors. I’m going back eleven thousand years and hitching a ride on the twentieth starship, backward in time.”

“If it exists,” said Umbo. “It’s only a mathematical guess.”

“If he can learn to reverse his direction in time,” said Rigg. “To hook on to something moving the other way.”

“I’m thinking that Param and I might be able to help each other learn some new skills,” said Noxon.

“I can’t help anybody,” said Param. “My talent is almost worse than having none at all.”

“No it isn’t,” said Olivenko.

“Mother made sure my enemies know how slowly I move,” said Param, “and how vulnerable I am when I’m invisible. The mice know it, too. It used to be I could always get away from anyone who tormented me. But now, it only makes me weaker.”

“That’s how I think we can help each other,” said Noxon. “I need to learn how to slice time—how to match the rhythm and duration of each increment. It’s become second nature to you. I’m not as sharp as Umbo—he learned how to jump without me way faster than I learned how to jump without him.”