Thief of Time

old Sixty-Six, they’ve never got it properly balanced. We’ll hear them in a minute…oh, dear. Look at the flowers. Do look at the flowers!”
    Lobsang turned.
    The Ice Plants were opening. The Field Sowthistle was closing.
    “Time leak,” said Lu-Tze. “Hark at that! You can hear them now, eh? They’re dumping time randomly! Come on!”

    According to the Second Scroll of Wen the Eternally Surprised , Wen the Eternally Surprised sawed the first Procrastinator from the trunk of a wamwam tree, carved certain symbols on it, fitted it with a bronze spindle, and summoned the apprentice, Clodpool.
    “Ah. Very nice, master,” said Clodpool. “A prayer wheel, yes?”
    “No, this is nothing like as complex,” said Wen. “It merely stores and moves time.”
    “That simple, eh?”
    “And now I shall test it,” said Wen. He gave it a half turn with his hand.
    “Ah. Very nice, master,” said Clodpool. “A prayer wheel, yes?”
    “No, this is nothing like as complex,” said Wen. “It merely stores and moves time.”
    “That simple, eh?”
    “And now I shall test it,” said Wen. He moved it a little less this time.
    “That simple, eh?”
    “And now I shall test it,” said Wen. This time he twisted it gently to and fro.
    “That si-si-si…That simple-ple, eh eheh simple, eh?” said Clodpool.
    “And I have tested it,” said Wen.
    “It worked, master?”

“Yes, I think so.” Wen stood up. “Give me the rope that you used to carry the firewood. And…yes, a pit from one of those cherries that you picked yesterday.”
    He wound the frayed rope around the cylinder and tossed the pit onto a patch of mud. Clodpool jumped out of the way.
    “See those mountains?” said Wen, tugging the rope. The cylinder spun and balanced there, humming gently.
    “Oh yes, master,” said Clodpool obediently. There was practically nothing up here but mountains; there were so many that sometimes they were impossible to see, because they got in the way.
    “How much time does stone need?” said Wen. “Or the deep sea? We shall move it,” he placed his left hand just above the spinning blur, “to where it is needed.”
    He looked down at the cherry pit. His lips moved silently, as though he was working through some complex puzzle. Then he pointed his right hand at the pit.
    “Stand back,” he said and gently let a finger touch the cylinder.
    There was no sound except the crack of the air as it moved aside, and a hiss of steam from the mud.
    Wen looked up at the new tree, and smiled.
    “I did say you should stand back,” he said.
    “I, er, I shall get down now, then, shall I?” said a voice among the blossom-laden branches.
    “But carefully,” said Wen, and sighed as Clodpool crashed down in a shower of petals.
    “There will always be cherry blossom here,” he said.

    Lu-Tze hitched up his robe and scurried back down the path. Lobsang ran after him. A high-pitched whine seemed to be coming out of the rocks themselves. The sweeper skidded at the carp pond now erupting in strange waves, and headed down a shady track alongside a stream. Red ibises erupted into flight—
    He stopped and threw himself flat on the paving slabs.
    “Get down now !”
    But Lobsang was already headlong. He heard something pass overhead with a plangent sound. He looked back and saw the last ibis tumbling in the air, shedding feathers, and shrinking as it flew. It squawked and vanished with a “pop.”
    Not vanished entirely . An egg followed the same trajectory for a few seconds, and then smashed on the stones.
    “Random time! Come on, come on!” shouted Lu-Tze. He scrambled to his feet again, headed toward an ornamental grill in the cliff face ahead of them, and with surprising strength wrenched it out of the wall.
    “It’s a bit of a drop but if you roll when you land you’ll be okay,” he said, lowering himself into the hole.
    “Where does it go to?”
    “The Procrastinators, of course!”
    “But novices aren’t allowed in there under pain of death!”
    “That’s a coincidence,” said Lu-Tze, lowering himself to the tips of his fingers. “Because death is what awaits you if you stay out there, too.”
    He dropped into the darkness. A moment later there was an unenlightened curse from below.
    Lobsang climbed in, hung by his fingertips, dropped, and rolled when he hit the floor below.
    “Well done,” said Lu-Tze in the gloom. “When in doubt, choose to live. This way!”
    The passageway opened into a wide corridor.