Ruins (Pathfinder 2)

“I hope so,” said Umbo. “Because when you think about it, the ships and the expendables are all the same thing. The same mind.”

“Actually,” said the ship, “we have a completely different program set.”

“Shut up, please,” said Rigg cheerfully.

“The ships take over the expendables whenever they want,” Umbo

went on. “That means that whatever the expendables do, the ships consent to it. Does it work the other way around?”

“Whatever the ships do is because the expendables want it?” asked Param.

“The orbiters are set to destroy the life of any wallfold that develops technology the expendables disapprove of,” said Umbo. “That means that part of the expendables’ mission is to judge everything we do. Everything the mice do. And destroying us all is part of their mission. What if this seed of time-shifting ability that exists among all the descendants of Ram Odin is a forbidden weapon? Then the only way to expunge it from the world is to wipe out the human race on Garden.”

“That’s as good a guess as any,” said Rigg.

“But still only a guess,” said Olivenko.

That irritated Umbo. “Why are other people’s ideas ‘theories,’ but mine are ‘guesses’?”

“They’re all guesses,” said Rigg. “And they’re all theories. This is one we have to keep in mind when we meet the Visitors. Maybe they’re not the problem. Maybe it’s what they learn from the logs of all the ships’ computers.”

“Maybe it’s what they’re told by the expendables,” said Umbo. “Maybe there’s programming deeper than anything that Ram Odin could reach. Maybe they had an agenda from the beginning.”

“In the beginning,” said Param, “there was only one starship, and it was coming to this world to found one colony. As far as the Visitors know until they actually get here, the colony on Garden should be only twelve years old. What deep secret plan could possibly exist in the expendables’ programming?”

“A plan that has nothing to do with us, but which gets applied to us anyway,” said Umbo.

“How will we ever know?” asked Rigg seriously. “How can we ever know anything?”

“I think we have to go back to the beginning,” said Umbo. “I think we have to talk to Ram Odin.”

“We can’t,” said Rigg. “We don’t dare. If we change his choice, we undo all of human history on Garden.”

“Not undo, re do,” said Olivenko.

“And maybe not,” said Umbo. “There were nineteen Ram Odins, at least for a few minutes. What if we could talk to one of the ones who died?”

“What could we learn from that?” asked Olivenko, a little scornfully. “Those aren’t the Ram Odins that made all the decisions that shaped this world.”

“First,” said Rigg, “Ram Odin only made the decisions that he made, based on the data the ships and the expendables gave him. But he also knew things about how the expendables worked that we don’t know.”

“The mice are leaving,” said Param.

It was true. They were rushing from the flyer, down the ramp and simply dropping off its sides. It took a surprisingly long time. They had apparently been swarming everywhere in the vehicle.

“Alone at last,” said Olivenko, when the last mouse went down the ramp.

“There are still five on Loaf,” said Rigg. “And three hiding in the upholstery.”

Those all came out of hiding and headed out the door.

“They don’t have to go,” said Rigg. “We have nothing to hide.”

But the mice went anyway.

Umbo got up and went to the doorway and looked out. They were on the brow of a hill, surrounded mostly by woodland. He could see several housetrees of the Odinfolders. Rigg came and stood beside him. “They’re at home,” said Rigg.

“But not coming out to see what we’re doing,” said Umbo.