“I know, you would have chosen only timestreams in which you failed utterly and then had to exit, pursued by a bear.”

  “From Shakespeare. A Winter’s Tale,” said Ivy.

  “I’ve used that before, I guess,” said Laz.

  “I’ve read all of Shakespeare’s plays, and I thought that stage direction was hilarious.”

  “Ivy, even when I could choose more convenient timestreams, I still lived through a lot of pretty awful things before I made the correction. I still remember them. They still happened to me.”

  “So you were eaten by that bear north of Greensboro?” asked Ivy.

  “Sometimes I avoid things that have possible negative outcomes.”

  “Like bedtime?” asked Ivy.

  “Yes, it’s definitely my bedtime. Past my bedtime. I’m putting myself in detention. See you in the morning.”

  Laz walked to his bedroom without waiting for Ivy’s retort, which, for once, she didn’t shout after him.

  His mind was racing, but getting nowhere. Mum, Nasty, Ivy, the Zees, the Tesserans, Ron, Riffle, Willard, the medals, the Portals, all of them were surrounded with questions and Laz had thought of many answers, all of them improbable, except the ones that were impossible.

  It all came down to Mumbo. Thoughts of Laz’s trashed bedroom intermingled with thoughts of the atrocities committed against schoolchildren and other innocent civilians, and thoughts of Riffle’s men shooting down Tesserans, while Laz stood and looked on.

  And then he woke up. Middle of the night. His watch said almost three a.m., and he couldn’t think what awoke him.

  “Get out of here!” Ivy was shouting. There was fear in her voice.

  Laz jumped out of bed, getting tangled in a sheet for a moment, falling on the floor, but getting right back up and rushing across the hall to Ivy’s closed bedroom door.

  Laz had always treated a closed door as a locked door, but he was just as glad that Ivy had not actually locked it. He was inside in a moment.

  Ivy was standing at the foot of her bed, wearing shorts and a loose-fitting tank top, while she was pointing at her bed and yelling at Mumbo, who was lying there with a smug grin on his face.

  “How did you get in here, you scum! What do you want?”

  Mumbo’s grin grew broader. Almost to the point of insanity. “I wanted to see if you liked the present I left. In a Pringles can.”

  “It wasn’t in a Pringles can, it was spread out on the bed, and no, I didn’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Mum. “But in that case, what you’re wearing right now will do quite well.”

  Ivy glanced down at her nearly unclad body, and Laz instantly looked away from her and back at Mumbo.

  “You’re disgusting,” said Ivy to Mumbo, but to Laz it felt as if she was also saying it to him, because when he had glanced at her, standing at the foot of her bed, she had looked very, very good in that loose tank top, and not in a purely aesthetic or even haute couture way.

  But no, Ivy had not been talking to him. Only to Mumbo.

  It was Laz’s turn to speak. Quietly, because Ivy had already taken care of any shouting that might have been needed. “You snuck into her room,” said Laz, very quietly, slowly. “When she was sleeping.”

  “I can’t help it if she goes to bed early. For me, the night is young,” said Mumbo.

  “What are you wearing?” asked Laz.

  “He’s wearing nothing,” said Ivy. “He was touching me.”

  “I wanted to converse with her, but she was snoring so loudly that I couldn’t be heard.”

  “He touched me.”

  “Ivy,” said Laz. “I know you have a robe. I’d be glad if you took this occasion to put it on.”

  Ivy responded in a mellifluous tone, filled with affection. “This ‘occasion,’ is that what you call it, Lazarus Hayerian, you miserable git?”

  “I’m not the miserable git here today,” said Laz. “I came in because you yelled and I thought you might be in some distress.”

  “I was,” said Ivy, pulling on the bathrobe that had been spread across the floor. “I still am.”

  “But I can look at you now,” said Laz.

  “She’s not some ancient idol, you know, Laz,” said Mumbo. “You can look at her without fear of being struck blind.”

  “Mumbo,” said Ivy, “you’re a turd.”

  “Oh, no,” said Mumbo. “I am the blossom of an autumn flower.”

  “You gave a stupid name to yourself,” said Ivy.

  “I see I’m going to struggle to win back your respect.”

  “You never had my respect,” said Ivy, still too angry to be engaging in an intelligent argument.

  “Chrysanthemum,” said Laz mildly. “What did you have to do with the Tesseran attack on Central Time?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” said Mumbo.

  “And yet I think you’re lying,” said Laz.

  “That’s what you get for thinking,” said Mumbo. “This is such a juvenile conversation.”

  “Trying to keep things at your level,” said Laz.

  Ivy was now a little calmer, which meant snide instead of shouting. “You came here without clothes on. Is that what you have to do to be invisible?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am. The clothes strobe with me.”

  “So you’re naked because…?”

  “I was taught that the mannerly thing is to bring a gift when you call on people.”

  “And your naked body was the gift?” asked Laz.

  “I’m crestfallen that she’s not appreciative of the gift,” said Mumbo. “If she doesn’t choose to use it, that’s no fault of mine, is it?”

  Laz chose not to answer him, and from her angry sputtering Laz figured that Ivy couldn’t respond.

  So Mumbo went on. “You know that I wasn’t going to do anything to her. She’s genetically identical to my mother.”

  “Only younger and prettier,” said Ivy.

  “I’m glad to know that the incest taboo is still a barrier for you,” said Laz.

  “I’m a good guy, Laz,” said Mumbo. “I live by the rules.”

  “Why are you here, Chrysanthemum?” asked Laz.

  “You say my name as if it were ridiculous.”

  “I think it’s a ridiculous name for a flower,” said Laz.

  It was Ivy who insisted. With the robe around her, she had recovered her dignity. Her posture, the coldness she usually showed when she was angry. The yelling earlier, Laz realized, was probably because she was frightened more than angry. Mumbo had been in her bed, naked, touching her. That was not something she could take with stoicism.

  “Chrysanthemum,” Ivy said, taking Laz’s lead on what to call the man. “Laz asked, and you deflected, but we’d really appreciate your telling us why you came here.”

  Mumbo disappeared. Just… wasn’t there. It took about another minute before the sheet stopped showing the shape of his body underneath it.

  “Where do you think he went?” asked Ivy.

  “He’s still there,” said Laz.

  “But the sheet settled down, I thought he left…”

  “When he strobes slowly enough,” said Laz, “his body no longer interacts with the physical world. The sheet no longer rested against a solid body, so it drifted down to lie on the bed. But that doesn’t even imply that Mumbo’s gone.”

  They stood there for a few minutes, Laz by the door, Ivy at the foot of the bed.

  “How can I even get dressed?” asked Ivy.

  “I suggest that you won’t be comfortable until you do,” said Laz.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable again,” she said. Her voice was pretty emotional when she said it.

  “You will be,” said Laz. “I know how resilient you can be.”

  “He could follow me around during everything I do, going to the toilet, showering, buying clothes, talking with… How can I do those things knowing he could be right there? That he could come through the bathroom door without opening it?”

  “At least he can’t hear you talking.”

  “Why not?” asked Ivy.

  “When he’s strobing, his ears are only present to pick up sounds for one fraction of each second. Not time enough to make sense of sound waves.”

  “I don’t think it’s my voice he’s here for.”

  “I think it is. This guy is able to see any woman he wants, buck naked. He probably had his fill of that years ago.”

  Ivy gave a bitter little sob of a chuckle. “I didn’t know men could ever get their fill of that.”

  “You are a splendid specimen of human femalocity, my love,” said Laz, “but I do believe he’s seen better.”

  “How gallant of you to say so.”

  “He’s here to talk. He chose the most intrusive, distracting way he could think of to enter into a conversation, but he came to talk.”

  Mumbo solidified on top of the bedsheets, still stark naked. He pulled the top sheet out from under him, and covered his genitals with a corner of it. “I must apologize,” he said. “Once the sheet’s settled down, I don’t know how to get back under it before I rematerialize.”

  “We’re so happy to have you back,” said Ivy, “penis and all.”

  “I’m glad you understand.”

  Laz went right back to insisting. “Why are you here?”

  Mumbo sighed. “Not the most pleasant interrogation room I’ve been in.”

  “You’re lying on a comfortable bed,” said Ivy.

  “And you chose the venue yourself,” said Laz. “In short, you chose your bed, now…”

  “Now lie in it,” said Mumbo. “Mother and Dad talk that way. Really old-fashioned sayings.”

  “Just so you know, whatever you’re about to say, I don’t believe a word of it. Not even ‘and’ or ‘the,’ ” said Laz.

  “If you aren’t going to believe me, why did you ask me to explain?” asked Mumbo.

  “Because we want to hear your lies,” said Ivy. “Lies are often excellent ways to get at the truth.”

  “I get it,” said Mumbo. “You don’t actually have to interrogate me, you just have to pick a timestream in which you did interrogate me and I told you everything.”

  “There’s no such timestream,” said Ivy. “You’re a liar through and through.”

  Mumbo laughed. “What is truth? Everybody lies. Mom and Dad least of all, I confess it, but they still lie to each other, lie to friends. Lied to you the first time you came and met with them.”

  “You were there,” observed Ivy.

  “So you can listen when you’re invisible.”

  “Actually not,” said Mumbo. “But I lay down behind the couch where no one could see me, and I listened to your conversation with my folks. And after that I started following and observing and listening when I could.”

  “Naked,” said Ivy.

  “Of course not. I would be too conspicuous if I had to materialize suddenly,” said Mumbo.

  “You came to see us in this spectacular way,” said Laz, “for a reason? Or just for sport?”

  “It can’t be both?” He looked at Ivy and smiled. “You’re very lovely. I can see why Dad fell in love with Mom.”

  “Everybody can see that,” said Laz. “What nobody can see is why she fell in love with me.”

  “No, who could be attracted to the great Lazarus Hayerian?” Mumbo just smiled, smugly enough that Laz wanted to punch him. That surprised him, because Laz had always avoided fights. He had no idea if his fist and arm and body could deliver a damaging blow to another person. But he certainly wanted to.

  “The Tesserans. Your conspiracy with them.”

  “Au contraire, mon frère,” said Mumbo. “My conspiracy was against them. I promised them things I couldn’t deliver—like, for instance, convenient new Portals whenever they needed them.”

  “You don’t make Portals?”

  “I don’t side step. I only have Dad’s descriptions to tell me how it’s done,” said Mumbo. “And I assured them that their plan was so perfect that I wouldn’t have to go through the excruciating labor of making more Portals.”

  “And they believed you,” said Ivy.

  “I believed myself,” said Mumbo. “That’s the only way to make it work.”

  “But you couldn’t deliver.”

  “Oh, I fully intended to deliver,” said Mumbo. “Because I was going to send Nasty to enlist you in our cause.”

  “Why did you even imagine that we would help you invade Central Time?” asked Ivy softly.

  “But that wasn’t the plan,” said Mumbo. “The plan was to avert war, not carry it out. The Tesserans were extremely angry about the way Central Time had spirited away the criminal element that was slated for… punishment. Elimination.”

  “This was all because we deprived them of a chance to murder?” asked Ivy. “To commit genocide?”

  “They resented Central Time’s violation of their sovereignty,” said Mumbo.

  “What, were you promising to bring back all the refugees so they could execute them after all?” Laz shook his head. “How did you think you could recruit us to help you with that?”

  “The deal was,” said Mumbo, “I would bring them, or lead them to, the three leaders of that refugee group. Of course they would stupidly kill them in a very public way, disgusting many of their own people and making martyrs of the three enemies, inspiring hatred in their people for many generations to come.”

  “I see,” said Ivy. “You wanted to help make the world an interesting place.”

  “It’s already interesting,” said Mumbo. “I was going to go to those three leaders and ask them to come back voluntarily.”

  “What did you need us for?” asked Laz.

  “Well, first, I had no idea where the refugees were and where those three martyrs-to-be could be found.”

  “And you think we knew?” asked Laz.

  “Of course you knew, and still know,” said Mumbo. “If you agreed to help—”

  “Which we would never do,” said Ivy.

  “You would immediately see the timestreams resulting from your refusal to help me, and from your agreement to help me. And in the agreement timestreams, you would see where they could be found.”

  Ivy answered, “Clever, except for the part—”

  “You didn’t imagine you could coerce us?” asked Laz. “Hold Ivy hostage to get me to comply?”

  “Absolutely not. It would be like threatening my own mother,” said Mumbo.

  “You can’t do anything to us,” said Ivy. “We’d always find a timestream where you fail. Whether we’re together or apart.”

  “Yes, Mom and Dad explained just how powerful they are, and you are, too.”

  “So why did your plan fail?” asked Laz. “You never pitched it to us.”

  “I know this might seem incredible to you,” said Mumbo, “but I think they didn’t really trust me.”

  Laz said, “So when you talked about bringing back only two or three—”

  “They tried to kill me,” said Mumbo. “I found that irritating, even though I disappeared before they could plunge in the knife, or however they were going to do it.”

  “So you ended up on the side of goodness and right because the evil people tried to kill you,” said Ivy.

  “I knew they were the bad guys all along.”

  “I’m afraid I have to call bullshit on this whole thing,” said Ivy. “I think everything you’ve told us is a lie. I don’t think you were ever going to try to recruit us to side step for you. I don’t think you were going to bring back martyrs for them to kill.”

  “What do you think happened?” asked Mumbo.

  “I think you planned with them exactly what happened,” said Ivy. “Right down to the terrorist slaughter of schoolchildren.”

  “I’m sorry you have such a low opinion of me,” said Mumbo.

  “And I still don’t know,” said Laz, “why you showed up here tonight. This morning.”

  “I didn’t know they would attack the school,” said Mumbo. “Not part of any plan.”

  “What was the endgame?” asked Ivy.

  “Why are you here?” asked Laz.

  “I can answer both your questions at once,” said Mumbo. “I think Ron is crippling human possibilities by keeping all these timestreams together, so that they’ll keep sharing whatever they discover or invent.”

  Laz was puzzled about why Mumbo thought that was bad. “Everybody wants all the good stuff,” Laz said.

  “Everything gets shared. So they start to expect to have great new tech and important new science without having to lift a finger themselves,” said Mumbo.

  “Then everybody starts trying to coast and nobody comes up with anything new,” said Ivy.

  “Unlikely. There’ll always be timestreams where several nations become competitive in technology and science,” said Mumbo.

  “So then everything is fine,” said Ivy. “What are you trying to do?”

  “Nothing is fine,” said Mumbo. “The human race is getting a chance that was inconceivable before. Instead of one world, which has only a few dominant nations at a time, we could have eight worlds, or more. Completely separate, not communicating, until each world believes it’s the only world, dependent on its own inventions and discoveries, with nobody else to jumpstart them.”

  “You think we’d make more progress that way,” said Laz. “You’re the progress monitor.”

  “On Earth, we had Eurasia and Africa, where there were periods of isolation, but China, India, the Arabs, and Europe were on a single continuum, with inventions in China leading to the printing press in Europe, numbers in India replacing the ridiculous Roman numeral system, and so on.”

  “But in the Americas,” said Laz, “separate things developed.”

  “Tobacco,” said Ivy. “Human sacrifice.”

  “Potatoes. Tomatoes. Maize,” said Mumbo. “Nuff said.”

  “So by not sharing or trading anything,” said Laz, “both worlds developed what they figured they needed, and when they came together—”

  “European technology gave them huge advantages while the rest of the world caught up, or tried to,” said Mumbo, “but once the worlds joined, maize and potatoes fed people everywhere.”

  “That’s an awfully theoretical construct to start a war over,” said Ivy.

  “Once they got rid of me, they did their own war planning. It wasn’t my war.”