“Why did she say that?” asked Noxon. “It seems presumptuous of her.”
“I think I picked the wrong time to travel,” said Ram Odin. “I’ve already been named as one of the possible pilots of the foldship, so people who are following the starship program know who I am.”
“A pilot is famous?” asked Noxon.
“A very low level of fame,” said Ram Odin. “It won’t get crazy until I’m selected as the pilot.”
“We could have sliced our way through this trip,” said Noxon. “They would never have known we were on the airplane, and the trip would have been over in a few minutes.”
“Next time,” said Ram Odin. “I have to admit that I’m enjoying being home on Earth. I like having money and something to spend it on.”
“Are you rich here?”
“I make a decent living,” said Ram. “But no, not rich.”
Noxon had had his misgivings when they boarded the plane. But he couldn’t say anything at the time, since officially he could speak only Quechua. “Isn’t the pre-voyage version of yourself going to find out you’re here?”
Ram Odin grinned. “He’s going to find out that somebody got a duplicate of his credit chip. My guess is that the police will be waiting to arrest me as an identity thief when we land in Atlanta.”
“How does that help us accomplish our purpose here?” asked Noxon.
“It doesn’t. So we will slice our way off the plane.”
In Atlanta, the police boarded the plane before any passengers were allowed to leave. But by then, Noxon’s and Ram Odin’s seats appeared to be empty. Because time slicing slowed down their movements so much, they were the last ones off the plane before the door closed, and by the time they got to the head of the ramp into the terminal, the police had abandoned their search.
Inside the terminal, Noxon sliced them forward by several days. Ram Odin quickly abandoned his credit chip. “Sorry,” he said to Noxon. “I won’t do that again.”
“You’re going to be recognized,” said Noxon.
“I really am about twelve years older now than I was at this point in the past. My face is thicker and as you can see, I’m letting my beard grow. Plus, I expect to spend a lot of time invisible, thanks to you.”
“I have a better idea,” said Noxon. He took Ram’s hand, attached to a path, and popped back to the year before. “Are you famous now?” asked Noxon.
“No,” said Ram Odin. “But it still doesn’t solve the money problem. We can’t afford to walk to where we’re going, and without money, we can’t get transportation.”
“Why can’t we walk?” asked Noxon. “If it takes too long, when we arrive I’ll take us back in time.”
“It’s not the time, or not just the time it takes to walk. It’s that nobody does it. There aren’t roads with places for pedestrians.”
“Can’t we work somewhere for a few days and earn passage?” asked Noxon. “Loaf and Umbo did that on a riverboat.”
“You have to have a certified identity to get hired anywhere, for any job,” said Ram. “And we don’t have any.”
“How do we get them?”
“Be born on Earth, and don’t have a duplicate of yourself running around getting resentful when you claim to be him.”
“How do we get identities?” asked Noxon.
“We don’t,” said Ram Odin. “We sneak aboard public transportation and ride in discomfort, for free.”
Fortunately, Noxon’s time-slicing was now so effective that they could get on a bus and walk slowly up the aisle and back to the door during the five-hour ride to Huntsville. To them it took only three minutes and a few steps.
“I warn you,” said Noxon, as they walked through town. “We can’t steal food while we’re slicing, because our hands just go right through anything we’re picking up.”
“Why don’t we sink into the ground?” asked Ram Odin.
“Because we don’t,” said Noxon. “For the same reason that paths stay in a fixed position relative to a spinning planet. I don’t understand the rules, but we stay on the surface.”