The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [74]
You find this humorous, Great Sphinx?
You must appreciate the audacity of your request, Nell.
Is it audacious to want to preserve life in the many-worlds?
By the means that you suggest, it is. I can’t have you playing with time. Too messy.
She frowned. What was the Sphinx on about? If time was an illusion, what was so tricky about manipulating it to her ends? She tried again. I realise time’s not what one normally tampers with, but under the circumstances I don’t know what else to do.
The Sphinx didn’t respond—usually a sign that she’d missed something obvious in a previous statement. She searched her mind, coming up blank.
You aren’t going to help? she asked after a prolonged silence, suspecting the Sphinx had gone. The strength of the reply startled her.
I’m not going to alter time to suit your needs. Think of something else, Nellion Paree.
I’ve tried. There isn’t anything else.
The Sphinx laughed, a deep belly laugh that rippled through her skin. Are you sure?
Nell clenched her jaw. No, I’m not sure. That’s why I am here, asking for your help.
More chuckling.
Nell crossed her arms, resisting the temptation to tap her foot.
The chuckling stopped and the Sphinx made a sound much like throat clearing. Have you thought of the future? The communication was soft, seductive.
Of course I’ve thought about the future. That’s all I’m thinking about, day and night.
Not like that, Nell…
What do you mean?
Have you thought about how the future can change the past, without worrying time at all?
She let her arms drop to her sides. You’ve lost me, Sphinx.
Think of it this way: if you go back to the past, it becomes your future, does it not?
She considered for a moment. I suppose. She looked up. Are you talking about reversed causation?
The Sphinx clicked, an impatient sound. What is it about being in a physical body that keeps you holding to the notion that causation has direction – either forward or back?
Nell curled her lip. Perhaps it has to do with ageing. Have you heard of it? The process of being born, growing up and dying? Sequential timelines, sunrise, sunset and the predictable path of the planets are also a hint. Everything else we learn from nature… She let her voice trail off, realising suddenly that she sounded like a narrow-minded cleric. Nell took a breath. Time’s not directional? Is that what you’re telling me?
Warmer.
Not forward or backward?
Correct. Consider the shape of a spiral.
Nell let that sink in, though her mind remained murky. I don’t get it.
Consider this metaphor, Nellion. Causation is like dropping a stone into a pool.
You mean ripples?
Yes, waves and ripples, if you must think in such horizontal dimensions.
Ripples, Nell repeated. I still don’t understand.
She felt a flick, like the closing of a book, before the ground dropped out from under her feet. In a split second, she was standing on a wooden bridge. It arched over a flowing river, the water below blue. Everglades spread out into the distance as far as she could see, and waterlilies and willows hugged the shore on either side.
‘Look down,’ said the Watcher.
He stood next to her, a man of medium height with sandy hair and dark eyes. He wore muslin fisherman’s pants and a pale orange cotton shirt, the tails wafting in the breeze. Prayer beads hung around his neck. His hands were folded in front of him.
‘Sphinx?’
The man raised his eyebrows.
‘What are you doing?’ She looked him up and down.
‘I like to try on different things, don’t you?’
She shrugged.
‘Look down,’ he said again.
Nell stepped closer to the rail and leaned over. She gazed at the ripples of water under the bridge. They were like little waves that constantly branched off, interfering with each other to form yet another wave and another.
‘Now look out there.’ The Watcher lifted his arm, opening it out towards the everglades.
Nell followed the