“That sounds about right,” said Noxon. “My view of the paths doesn’t come with a calendar. But that ninety-thousand-year figure gives me a benchmark.”

“Ten kilometers,” said Ram wearily.

“You walk almost as far changing planes at the airport,” said Noxon.

“Not even close,” said Ram.

“Then stay here,” said Noxon. “You can watch over the stuff we don’t need, so we don’t have to carry it all with us.”

“We’ll lock that in the boot,” said Ram. “I’m not going to miss this.”

“No, you’re just going to complain the whole way. Those Neanderthals, so thoughtless—hunting uri where they happen to be, instead of hoping they’ll wander closer.”

“Uri?” asked Deborah.

“The Latinized plural of the root word ‘urus,’” said Noxon. “I think it’s a better name than aurochs anyway.”

“See, Father?” said Deborah. “There are worse language wonks in the world than I am.”

“He’s not from this world,” said Wheaton.

The hike was difficult—lots of ups and downs, scrambling into ravines and out again, and scraping their way through thickets. But they had dressed for hiking and when they got to the site, they were tired but not exhausted.

“If Neanderthals were careful hunters,” said Noxon, “there’s no chance we could suddenly appear without their noticing us. So I’m thinking that I bring us to that time behind this rise, and then I slice us forward as we climb the hill. I won’t slice us very fast, so we’ll see their actions speeded up but it won’t be a blur.”

“Will my camera be able to record the images?” asked Wheaton.

“If our eyes can see, the camera can record it,” said Noxon. “Images move quickly enough not to lose coherency when we time-slice. Not like sound, which turns into meaningless ragged waves.”

“Then that sounds like an excellent plan,” said Wheaton.

With the clarity that his facemask brought him, Noxon easily brought them to the moment that he chose and then sliced them with precision as they moved up the rise to perch on the crest. It was close enough for a good clear view, but not so close that they’d have to worry about Neanderthals walking through them.

The hunting was a long, slow process, and several times Noxon sped up the time-slicing so it didn’t get too uncomfortable waiting there on the crest. It wasn’t just about boredom: Somebody would need to empty bladder or bowel if it took too long.

The four Neanderthals approached the grazing herd with infinite patience. It was incredible how slow their movements were, how utterly still they could remain while holding awkward poses. Each Neanderthal man—two seeming to be in their ­twenties, two in their teens—had a short spear strapped to his back, stone tip near the man’s head. Their hands were empty.