Thief of Time

fetching. And we were better for it! These days it’s all about learning obedience and cosmic harmony. Well, you learned that in the halls, in the old days. You learned if you didn’t jump out of the way when someone yelled ‘she’s dumping!,’ you got a couple of years where it hurt, and that there’s no harmony better than all the spinners turning sweetly.”
    The passage rose into the main temple complex. People were still scurrying around as they headed for the Mandala Hall.
    “You’re sure you can look at it again?” said Lu-Tze.
    “Yes, Sweeper.”
    “Okay. You know best.”
    The balconies overlooking the hall were crowded with monks, but Lu-Tze worked his way forward by polite yet firm use of his broom. The senior monks were clustered at the edge.
    Rinpo caught sight of him.
    “Ah, Sweeper,” he said. “Some dust delayed you?”
    “Spinners cut free and went overspeed,” muttered Lu-Tze.
    “Yes, but you were summoned by the abbot,” said the acolyte reproachfully.
    “Upon a time,” said Lu-Tze, “every man jack of us would have legged it down to the hall when the gongs went.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “ BRRRRbrrrrbrrrr ,” said the abbot, and Lobsang saw now that he was being carried in a sling on the acolyte’s back, with an embroidered pixie hood on his head to keep the chill off. “Lu-Tze always was very keen on the practical approach BRRRbrrr .” He blew milky suds into the acolyte’s ear. “I am glad matters have been resolved, Lu-Tze.”
    The sweeper bowed, while the abbot started to beat the acolyte gently over the head with a wooden bear.
    “History has repeated, Lu-Tze DumDumBBBRRRR…”
    “Glass clock?” said Lu-Tze.
    The senior monks gasped.
    “How could you possibly know that?” said the chief acolyte. “We haven’t rerun the Mandala yet!”
    “It is written, ‘I’ve got a feeling in my water,’” said Lu-Tze. “And that was the only other time I ever heard of when all the spinners went wild like that. They all cut loose. Time slip. Someone’s building a glass clock again.”
    “That is quite impossible,” said the acolyte. “We removed every trace!”
    “Hah! It is written, ‘I’m not as green as I’m cabbage-looking’!” snapped Lu-Tze. “Something like that you can’t kill. It leaks back. Stories. Dreams. Paintings on cave walls, whatever—”
    Lobsang looked down at the Mandala floor. Monks were clustered around a group of tall cylinders at the far end of the hall. They looked like Procrastinators, but only one small one was spinning slowly. The others were motionless, showing the mass of symbols that were carved into them from top to bottom.
    Pattern storage. The thought arrived in his head. That is where the Mandala’s patterns are kept, so they can be replayed. Today’s patterns on the little one, long-term storage on the big ones.
    Below him, the Mandala rippled, blotches of color and scraps of pattern drifting across its surface. One of the distant monks called out something, and the small cylinder stopped.
    The rolling sand grains were stilled.
    “This is how it looked twenty minutes ago,” said Rinpo. “See the blue-white dot there? And then it spreads—”
    “I know what I’m looking at,” said Lu-Tze grimly. “I was there when it happened, remember. Your Reverence, get them to run the old Glass Clock sequence! We haven’t got a lot of time!”
    “I really think we—” the acolyte began but was interrupted by a blow from a rubber brick.
    “ Wannapottywanna if Lu-Tze is right, then we must not waste time, gentlemen, and if he is wrong, then we have time to spare, is this not so? Pottynowwannawanna !”
    “Thank you,” said the sweeper. He cupped his hands. “Oi! You lot! Spindle two, fourth bhing , round about the nineteenth gupa ! And jump to it!”
    “I really must respectfully protest, Your Reverence,” said the acolyte. “We have practiced for just such an emergency as—”
    “Yeah, I know all about practicing procedures for emergencies,” said Lu-Tze. “And there’s always something missing.”
    “Ridiculous! We take great pains to—”
    “You always leave out the damn emergency,” Lu-Tze turned back to the hall and the apprehensive workers. “Ready? Good! Put it on the floor now ! Or I shall have to come down there! And I don’t want to have to come down there!”
    There was some frantic activity by men around the cylinders, and a new pattern replaced the one below the balcony. The lines and colors