“In my experience,” said Loaf, “soldiers don’t have a taboo against killing helpless prisoners. It’s hard to get them not to.”
Suddenly the paths below changed from individual forays onto land into a huge array of interlocking paths. Thousands and thousands of them, ranging from ten thousand years ago to the past few days. “Set down here,” said Rigg to the flyer.
The flyer swerved to shore and gently settled to the ground about fifteen meters above the highwater line. “This is where they hold their annual beach party and sports tournament,” said Rigg.
“Really?” asked Param, sounding skeptical.
“I have no idea,” said Rigg. “But hundreds of them at a time come to shore here, and they’ve been doing it for a long, long time. From the beginning—their first colony was only a few kilometers farther inland.”
“Maybe all those solitary shore visits you saw were women giving birth,” said Param. “Maybe they have to come to land for that.”
“Or men who got thrown out of the house by untrusting wives,” said Umbo.
In answer, Rigg got out of the flyer and strode toward the water. There were no humans on the beach, but since he knew they often returned, he figured he’d meet them soon enough.
Rigg had never felt large quantities of sand beneath his feet before. It was hard to walk in sand; it kept sliding and he kept slipping.
Sure enough, in sand higher above the water, there were tracks—normal human footprints. “They don’t have webbed feet,” said Rigg.
“Or maybe they clip the webs between their toes, as we do with our toenails,” said Param.
Loaf was looking at the tracks. “There might be toe-webs after all. That slight dusting of sand right . . . here.”
Rigg saw what he was indicating, thin lines between the foremost toes on only a couple of the footprints. But Rigg had seen other such artifacts in the tracks of animals and men in the forests of Ramfold throughout his childhood. “Is that real, or just wind-blow?” asked Rigg.
“Could be either,” said Loaf. “How long do we wait?”
“Well,” said Rigg, “now that we’ve passed through the Wall, I don’t see why we can’t go back into the past to the most recent gathering of just a few of them. We’ll go to them, since we can’t signal them to come to us.”
“We’re using the Larfold flyer,” said Umbo, “and yet the expendable hasn’t come to us and the ship hasn’t tried to talk to us beyond acknowledging the command to send the flyer.”
“We’re not looking for the expendable anyway,” said Param. “I’m glad it’s not here.”
“The expendables are too powerful to ignore them,” said Rigg. “Umbo’s question is a good one, but Param’s point is also good.”
“We can’t both be right,” said Param.
“Yes you can,” said Rigg, “and you are. We don’t have to search for the expendable right now, but we also have to be sharply aware that whatever he’s doing right now, it’s not nothing, and might be dangerous to us.”
“Very delicately done,” said Olivenko.
“What a dance between your rival siblings,” said Loaf.
“And how completely unhelpful for you to call attention to it,” said Rigg.
“We’re not at war and we’re not rivals,” said Param. “Or siblings.”
“How can a peasant boy be a rival to a queen?” asked Umbo.
“What about my idea of going back in time to meet them?” asked Rigg.
“Why not go all the way back, and watch them go into the water?” asked Olivenko.
“If we could be sure we could watch undetected, I’d agree,” said Rigg. “But why not meet them now?”
“I’d rather meet them back when they were human,” said Olivenko.
“But are we even human?” asked Rigg. “And for all we know, they’re as human as we are right now.”