Ruins (Pathfinder 2)
“You can’t tell us everything at once,” said Rigg. “You also want us to pursue a particular course of action, so you’re framing the information you provide us in order to maximize the likelihood of our doing what you want. Since I would do exactly the same thing, I’m not criticizing you. I’m just waiting to find out what you’re planning for us. And I want to know just how much you’ve already bent our course without our knowledge.” He held up his hand. “Again, that’s not a criticism. Can we all stop being so sensitive? Short of leaving us notes, which we wouldn’t have understood or believed anyway, you couldn’t explain anything to us. And thanks for the stones. I don’t know why you have that kind of trust in us, but I hope to live up to your expectations wherever I agree with them.”
Param listened to Rigg’s speech and was both proud of him and annoyed that he was so eloquent. He was so aware of how the others were taking the things he said. It was obvious that the Gardener—Ramex—had done a splendid job of training Rigg to be a leader, and Rigg himself was doing a splendid job of using that training wisely and well. She found herself thinking: He should be King-in-the-Tent. And then answering herself, I am the queen’s heir! And then answering, Mother has repudiated me, tried to kill me, and I am reduced to following my younger brother, whom I barely know, and pining over a scholar from the city guard like a moonstruck girl in a romance.
“How have we changed your course of action?” said Swims-in-the-Air coldly. “You want the entire list right now?”
“Yes,” said Param, without hesitation.
“Tell it in the order that you planned,” said Rigg.
“Tell it now,” said Umbo.
The attitude of the Odinfolders had changed completely. The warmth was gone. “Everything depends on you,” said Mouse-Breeder. “The yahoo thing—that’s what we tried last time, and it failed.”
“So you didn’t tell us the truth the first time around,” said Olivenko.
“As Rigg already guessed,” said Swims-in-the-Air. “Here’s what we did. We learned how to transfer very, very tiny things to very, very precise times and locations. Specifically, we learned how to pick up the genetic material from a fertilized egg before it implanted itself in the uterine wall, alter it as we desired, and reimplant it a microsecond later.”
Param’s mind was reeling. “Whom did you do that to?”
“We did it to your father, Knosso, in his mother’s womb,” said Mouse-Breeder. “Then we made just a couple of tweaks to ensure that it was Knosso your mother married, producing the two of you.”
“What changes did you make in Father’s genes?” asked Rigg.
“We knew both his parents had very strong gifts in time manipulation. So we added our ability to his genes, and hoped the recombination would be interesting and productive. It was—it gave us a timesplitter and a pathfinder.”
Param looked at Rigg, trying to see if he was as devastated as she was. But he showed nothing. “How dare you,” she said softly to Swims-in-the-Air.
“My name includes the title Saves-the-World,” said Swims-in-the-Air. “How do you think I earned it?”
“What other changes did you make?” asked Rigg.
“A certain knife,” said Mouse-Breeder. “Which we placed very early, so it had a history, and then moved to the hip of a man whom you encountered the first time you and Umbo did time-shifting together.”
“The knife,” said Umbo, touching his waist, where it was sheathed under his shirt. “But why?”
“You’ve already noticed that the hilt contains duplicates of all the jewels of control,” said Mouse-Breeder.
Param hadn’t known anything about that; but then, she hadn’t had many opportunities to see either the knife or the jewels.
“That’s not all,” said Rigg. “You can’t tell me that you left anything to chance. What about Loaf?”
“Loaf was chance,” said Swims-in-the-Air. “And Olivenko. But you chose your companions well. You could hardly have done better.”
Loaf showed no reaction, but Olivenko turned his face. To show disgust, but Param guessed that he was also flattered, and wanted to conceal the fact.
“But yes, Rigg,” said Swims-in-the-Air, “we didn’t just hope you’d run into someone who could help you use your pathfinding to get into the past. It might have taken years of training, and we didn’t have years. So we gave you Umbo.”
“Gave me Umbo?” asked Rigg.
Param saw that Umbo’s face was red. Anger? Embarrassment?
“What am I?” asked Umbo. “Another genetic experiment?”
“Not like Knosso,” said Mouse-Breeder. “Your mother was extraordinarily gifted, but your father was nothing.”
Umbo nodded.
“So we preempted all of his sperm, when you were conceived,” said Mouse-Breeder, “and gave you sperm from our most gifted displacer.”