"So what?" Travis snorted quietly. "Well, what about the foxes that'll need those mice to survive? For want of ten mice, a fox dies. For want of ten foxes a lion starves. For want of a lion, all manner of insects, vultures, infinite billions of life forms are thrown into chaos and destruction. Eventually it all boils down to this: fifty-nine million years later, a caveman, one of a dozen on the entire world, goes hunting wild boar or saber-toothed tiger for food. But you, friend, have stepped on all the tigers in that region. By stepping on one single mouse. So the caveman starves. And the caveman, please note, is not just any expendable man, no! He is an entire future nation. From his loins would have sprung ten sons. From their loins one hundred sons, and thus onward to a civilization. Destroy this one man, and you destroy a race, a people, an entire history of life. It is comparable to slaying some of Adam's grandchildren. The stomp of your foot, on one mouse, could start an earthquake, the effects of which could shake our earth and destinies down through Time, to their very foundations. With the death of that one caveman, a billion others yet unborn are throttled in the womb. Perhaps Rome never rises on its seven hills. Perhaps Europe is forever a dark forest, and only Asia waxes healthy and teeming. Step on a mouse and you crush the Pyramids. Step on a mouse and you leave your print, like a Grand Canyon, across Eternity. Queen Elizabeth might never be born, Washington might not cross the Delaware, there might never be a United States at all. So be careful. Stay on the Path. Never step off!"
"I see," said Eckels. "Then it wouldn't pay for us even to touch the grass (ΡΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° Π½Π΅ ΠΏΡΠΎΠΉΠ΄Π΅Ρ Π΄Π°ΡΠΎΠΌ Π΄Π»Ρ Π½Π°Ρ Π΄Π°ΠΆΠ΅ ΠΊΠ°ΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΠ΅ ΡΡΠ°Π²Ρ)?"
"Correct (ΠΏΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ»ΡΠ½ΠΎ). Crushing certain plants could add up infinitesimally (ΡΠ°Π·Π΄Π°Π²Π»ΠΈΠ²Π°Π½ΠΈΠ΅ Π½Π΅ΠΊΠΈΡ ΡΠ°ΡΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠΉ ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅Ρ ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½Ρ ΠΌΠ°Π»ΠΎ ΠΈΠ·ΠΌΠ΅Π½ΠΈΡΡ ΠΎΠΊΡΡΠΆΠ°ΡΡΠ΅Π΅: to add up β ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΡΡΠΎΠΆΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΡ, infinitesimally β ΠΊΡΠ°ΠΉΠ½Π΅ ΠΌΠ°Π»ΠΎ). A little error here would multiply in sixty million years (ΠΌΠ°Π»Π΅Π½ΡΠΊΠ°Ρ ΠΎΡΠΈΠ±ΠΊΠ° Π·Π΄Π΅ΡΡ ΠΏΡΠΈΡΠΌΠ½ΠΎΠΆΠΈΡΡΡ Π·Π° ΡΠ΅ΡΡΡΠ΄Π΅ΡΡΡ ΠΌΠΈΠ»Π»ΠΈΠΎΠ½ΠΎΠ² Π»Π΅Ρ), all out of proportion (ΡΠΎΠ²Π΅ΡΡΠ΅Π½Π½ΠΎ ΠΈΠ·/Π²Π½Π΅ ΠΏΡΠΎΠΏΠΎΡΡΠΈΠΈ β Π·Π΄Π΅ΡΡ ΠΈΠ³ΡΠ° ΡΠ»ΠΎΠ²: ΠΏΡΠΎΠΏΠΎΡΡΠΈΠΎΠ½Π°Π»ΡΠ½ΠΎ/Π²ΡΡ ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡ Π·Π° Π³ΡΠ°Π½ΠΈ ΠΏΠΎΠ½ΠΈΠΌΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ). Of course maybe our theory is wrong (ΠΊΠΎΠ½Π΅ΡΠ½ΠΎ, ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅Ρ Π±ΡΡΡ, Π½Π°ΡΠ° ΡΠ΅ΠΎΡΠΈΡ Π½Π΅Π²Π΅ΡΠ½Π°). Maybe Time can't be changed by us (Π²ΠΎΠ·ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ½ΠΎ, Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΡ Π½Π΅ ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅Ρ Π±ΡΡΡ ΠΈΠ·ΠΌΠ΅Π½Π΅Π½ΠΎ Π½Π°ΠΌΠΈ). Or maybe it can be changed only in little subtle ways (ΠΈΠ»ΠΈ, Π²ΠΎΠ·ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ½ΠΎ, ΠΎΠ½ΠΎ ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅Ρ Π±ΡΡΡ ΠΈΠ·ΠΌΠ΅Π½Π΅Π½ΠΎ ΡΠΎΠ»ΡΠΊΠΎ ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½Ρ Π½Π΅Π·Π½Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅Π»ΡΠ½ΠΎ: subtle β Π΅Π΄Π²Π° ΡΠ°Π·Π»ΠΈΡΠΈΠΌΡΠΉ). A dead mouse here makes an insect imbalance there, a population disproportion later (ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠ²Π°Ρ ΠΌΡΡΡ Π·Π΄Π΅ΡΡ ΠΏΡΠΎΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡ Π΄ΠΈΡΠΏΡΠΎΠΏΠΎΡΡΠΈΡ ΠΏΠΎΠΏΡΠ»ΡΡΠΈΠΈ ΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΆΠ΅), a bad harvest further on (ΠΏΠ»ΠΎΡ ΠΎΠΉ ΡΡΠΎΠΆΠ°ΠΉ Π΄Π°Π»ΡΡΠ΅), a depression, mass starvation (Π΄Π΅ΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΡΠΈΡ, ΠΌΠ°ΡΡΠΎΠ²ΡΠΉ Π³ΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ΄), and finally, a change in social temperament in far-flung countries (ΠΈ, Π½Π°ΠΊΠΎΠ½Π΅Ρ, ΠΈΠ·ΠΌΠ΅Π½Π΅Π½ΠΈΡ Π² ΡΠΎΡΠΈΠ°Π»ΡΠ½ΠΎΠΌ Ρ Π°ΡΠ°ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ Π² ΠΎΠ±ΡΠΈΡΠ½ΡΡ ΡΡΡΠ°Π½Π°Ρ ). Something much more subtle (/ΠΈΠ»ΠΈ/ ΡΡΠΎ-ΡΠΎ Π½Π°ΠΌΠ½ΠΎΠ³ΠΎ Π±ΠΎΠ»Π΅Π΅ ΡΠΎΠ½ΠΊΠΎΠ΅), like that (/Π½Π°ΠΏΡΠΈΠΌΠ΅Ρ,/ ΡΠ°ΠΊΠΈΠΌ ΠΎΠ±ΡΠ°Π·ΠΎΠΌ). Perhaps only a soft breath, a whisper, a hair, pollen on the air (Π²ΠΎΠ·ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ½ΠΎ, ΡΠΎΠ»ΡΠΊΠΎ Π½Π΅ΠΆΠ½ΠΎΠ΅ Π΄ΡΠ½ΠΎΠ²Π΅Π½ΠΈΠ΅, ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠΎΡ, Π²ΠΎΠ»ΠΎΡΠΎΠΊ, ΠΏΡΠ»ΡΡΠ° Π² Π²ΠΎΠ·Π΄ΡΡ Π΅), such a slight, slight change that unless you looked close you wouldn't see it (ΡΠ°ΠΊΠΎΠ΅ Π»Π΅Π³ΠΊΠΎΠ΅, Π½Π΅Π·Π½Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅Π»ΡΠ½ΠΎΠ΅ ΠΈΠ·ΠΌΠ΅Π½Π΅Π½ΠΈΠ΅, ΡΡΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠΊΠ° Π½Π΅ ΠΏΠΎΡΠΌΠΎΡΡΠΈΡΠ΅ Π±Π»ΠΈΠ·ΠΊΠΎ, Π½Π΅ ΡΠ²ΠΈΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅ Π΅Π³ΠΎ). Who knows (ΠΊΡΠΎ Π·Π½Π°Π΅Ρ)? Who really can say he knows (ΠΊΡΠΎ Π΄Π΅ΠΉΡΡΠ²ΠΈΡΠ΅Π»ΡΠ½ΠΎ ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅Ρ ΡΠΊΠ°Π·Π°ΡΡ, ΡΡΠΎ ΠΎΠ½ Π·Π½Π°Π΅Ρ)? We don't know (ΠΌΡ Π½Π΅ Π·Π½Π°Π΅ΠΌ). We're guessing (ΠΌΡ /ΡΠΎΠ»ΡΠΊΠΎ/ Π³Π°Π΄Π°Π΅ΠΌ). But until we do know for certain (Π½ΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠΊΠ° ΠΌΡ Π½Π΅ Π·Π½Π°Π΅ΠΌ Π½Π°Π²Π΅ΡΠ½ΡΠΊΠ°) whether our messing around in Time can (ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅Ρ Π»ΠΈ Π½Π°ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ°ΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΠ΅ Π²ΠΎ Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½ΠΈ: to mess around β ΡΠ»ΠΎΠ½ΡΡΡΡΡ), make a big roar or a little rustle in history (ΠΏΡΠΎΠΈΠ·Π²Π΅ΡΡΠΈ Π±ΠΎΠ»ΡΡΠΎΠΉ ΡΠ΅Π² ΠΈΠ»ΠΈ ΠΌΠ°Π»Π΅Π½ΡΠΊΠΈΠΉ ΡΠ΅Π»Π΅ΡΡ Π² ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΠΈ), we're being damned careful (ΠΌΡ Π΄ΠΎΠ»ΠΆΠ½Ρ Π±ΡΡΡ ΡΠ΅ΡΡΠΎΠ²ΡΠΊΠΈ ΠΎΡΡΠΎΡΠΎΠΆΠ½Ρ). This Machine, this Path, your clothing and bodies (ΡΡΠ° ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΠ½Π°, ΡΡΠ° Π’ΡΠΎΠΏΠ°, Π²Π°ΡΠ° ΠΎΠ΄Π΅ΠΆΠ΄Π° ΠΈ ΡΠ΅Π»Π°), were sterilized, as you know, before the journey (Π±ΡΠ»ΠΈ ΡΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠ»ΠΈΠ·ΠΎΠ²Π°Π½Ρ, ΠΊΠ°ΠΊ Π²Ρ Π·Π½Π°Π΅ΡΠ΅, ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π΄ ΠΏΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ²ΠΈΠ΅ΠΌ). We wear these oxygen helmets (ΠΌΡ Π½ΠΎΡΠΈΠΌ ΡΡΠΈ ΠΊΠΈΡΠ»ΠΎΡΠΎΠ΄Π½ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ»Π΅ΠΌΡ) so we can't introduce our bacteria into an ancient atmosphere (ΡΠ°ΠΊ ΡΡΠΎ ΠΌΡ Π½Π΅ ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅ΠΌ Π²Π½Π΅ΡΡΠΈ Π½Π°ΡΠΈ Π±Π°ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΈ Π² Π΄ΡΠ΅Π²Π½ΡΡ Π°ΡΠΌΠΎΡΡΠ΅ΡΡ)."
"I see," said Eckels. "Then it wouldn't pay for us even to touch the grass?"
"Correct. Crushing certain plants could add up infinitesimally. A little error here would multiply in sixty million years, all out of proportion. Of course maybe our theory is wrong. Maybe Time can't be changed by us. Or maybe it can be changed only in little subtle ways. A dead mouse here makes an insect imbalance there, a population disproportion later, a bad harvest further on, a depression, mass starvation, and finally, a change in social temperament in far-flung countries. Something much more subtle, like that. Perhaps only a soft breath, a whisper, a hair, pollen on the air, such a slight, slight change that unless you looked close you wouldn't see it. Who knows? Who really can say he knows? We don't know. We're guessing. But until we do know for certain whether our messing around in Time can make a big roar or a little rustle in history, we're being careful. This Machine, this Path, your clothing and bodies, were sterilized, as you know, before the journey. We wear these oxygen helmets so we can't introduce our bacteria into an ancient atmosphere."
"How do we know which animals to shoot (ΠΊΠ°ΠΊ ΠΌΡ ΡΠ·Π½Π°Π΅ΠΌ, /Π²/ ΠΊΠ°ΠΊΠΈΡ ΠΆΠΈΠ²ΠΎΡΠ½ΡΡ ΡΡΡΠ΅Π»ΡΡΡ)?"
"They're marked with red paint (ΠΎΠ½ΠΈ ΠΎΡΠΌΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½Ρ ΠΊΡΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΎΠΉ ΠΊΡΠ°ΡΠΊΠΎΠΉ)," said Travis. "Today, before our journey (ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ΄Π½Ρ, ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π΄ Π½Π°ΡΠΈΠΌ ΠΏΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ²ΠΈΠ΅ΠΌ), we sent Lesperance here back with the Machine (ΠΌΡ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ»Π°Π»ΠΈ ΠΠ΅ΡΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ°Π½ΡΠ° ΡΡΠ΄Π° /Π½Π°Π·Π°Π΄/ Π½Π° ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΠ½Π΅). He came to this particular era and followed certain animals (ΠΎΠ½ ΠΏΡΠΈΠ±ΡΠ» Π² ΡΡΡ ΡΠ°ΠΌΡΡ ΡΡΡ ΠΈ ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠ»Π΅Π΄ΠΈΠ» Π·Π° ΠΎΠΏΡΠ΅Π΄Π΅Π»Π΅Π½Π½ΡΠΌΠΈ ΠΆΠΈΠ²ΠΎΡΠ½ΡΠΌΠΈ)."
"Studying them (ΠΈΠ·ΡΡΠ°Ρ ΠΈΡ )?"
"Right," said Lesperance. "I track them through their entire existence (Ρ ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠ»Π΅ΠΆΠΈΠ²Π°Ρ ΠΈΡ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π· Π²ΡΡ ΠΈΡ ΠΆΠΈΠ·Π½Ρ), noting which of them lives longest (Π·Π°ΠΌΠ΅ΡΠ°Ρ, ΠΊΡΠΎ ΠΈΠ· Π½ΠΈΡ ΠΆΠΈΠ²Π΅Ρ Π΄ΠΎΠ»ΡΡΠ΅ Π²ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎ). Very few (/ΡΠ°ΠΊΠΈΡ / ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½Ρ ΠΌΠ°Π»ΠΎ). How many times they mate (ΡΠΊΠΎΠ»ΡΠΊΠΎ ΡΠ°Π· ΠΎΠ½ΠΈ ΡΠΏΠ°ΡΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΡΡΡ). Not often (Π½Π΅ΡΠ°ΡΡΠΎ). Life's short (ΠΆΠΈΠ·Π½Ρ ΠΊΠΎΡΠΎΡΠΊΠ°). When I find one that's going to die (ΠΊΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° Ρ Π½Π°Ρ ΠΎΠΆΡ ΠΆΠΈΠ²ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎΠ΅, ΠΊΠΎΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ΅ Π΄ΠΎΠ»ΠΆΠ½ΠΎ ΡΠΌΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΡ: one Π·Π΄Π΅ΡΡ Π·Π°ΠΌΠ΅ΡΠ°Π΅Ρ ΡΡΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ²ΠΈΡΠ΅Π»ΡΠ½ΠΎΠ΅ animal) when a tree falls on him (ΠΊΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° Π½Π° Π½Π΅Π³ΠΎ ΡΠΏΠ°Π΄Π΅Ρ Π΄Π΅ΡΠ΅Π²ΠΎ), or one that drowns in a tar pit (ΠΈΠ»ΠΈ ΠΊΠΎΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ΅ ΡΡΠΎΠ½Π΅Ρ Π² ΡΠΌΠΎΠ»ΡΠ½ΠΎΠΉ ΡΠΌΠ΅), I note the exact hour, minute, and second (Ρ ΠΎΡΠΌΠ΅ΡΠ°Ρ ΡΠΎΡΠ½ΡΠΉ ΡΠ°Ρ, ΠΌΠΈΠ½ΡΡΡ ΠΈ ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΠ½Π΄Ρ). I shoot a paint bomb (Ρ ΡΡΡΠ΅Π»ΡΡ ΠΊΡΠ°ΡΡΡΠ΅ΠΉ Π±ΠΎΠΌΠ±ΠΎΠΉ). It leaves a red patch on his side (ΠΎΠ½Π° ΠΎΡΡΠ°Π²Π»ΡΠ΅Ρ ΠΊΡΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΎΠ΅ ΠΏΡΡΠ½ΠΎ Π½Π° Π΅Π³ΠΎ Π±ΠΎΠΊΡ). We can't miss it (ΠΌΡ Π½Π΅ ΠΌΠΎΠΆΠ΅ΠΌ Π½Π΅ Π·Π°ΠΌΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΡ Π΅Π³ΠΎ: to miss β ΡΠΏΡΡΡΠΈΡΡ). Then I correlate our arrival in the Past so (Π·Π°ΡΠ΅ΠΌ Ρ ΡΠ°ΡΡΡΠΈΡΡΠ²Π°Ρ Π½Π°ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΡΠΈΠ±ΡΡΠΈΠ΅ Π² ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠ»ΠΎΠ΅ ΡΠ°ΠΊ: to correlate β ΡΡΡΠ°Π½Π°Π²Π»ΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΡ ΡΠΎΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠ΅) that we meet the Monster not more than two minutes before he would have died anyway (ΡΡΠΎ ΠΌΡ Π²ΡΡΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΌ ΡΡΠ΄ΠΎΠ²ΠΈΡΠ΅ Π½Π΅ Π±ΠΎΠ»Π΅Π΅ ΡΠ΅ΠΌ Π·Π° Π΄Π²Π΅ ΠΌΠΈΠ½ΡΡΡ Π΄ΠΎ ΡΠΎΠ³ΠΎ, ΠΊΠ°ΠΊ ΠΎΠ½ΠΎ Π²ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ°Π²Π½ΠΎ ΡΠΌΡΠ΅Ρ). This way, we kill only animals with no future (ΡΠ°ΠΊΠΈΠΌ ΠΎΠ±ΡΠ°Π·ΠΎΠΌ, ΠΌΡ ΡΠ±ΠΈΠ²Π°Π΅ΠΌ ΡΠΎΠ»ΡΠΊΠΎ ΠΆΠΈΠ²ΠΎΡΠ½ΡΡ Π±Π΅Π· Π±ΡΠ΄ΡΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎ), that are never going to mate again (ΠΊΠΎΡΠΎΡΡΠ΅ Π½ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° Π±ΠΎΠ»ΡΡΠ΅ Π½Π΅ ΡΠΏΠ°ΡΡΡΡΡ). You see how careful we are (Π²Ρ Π²ΠΈΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅, ΠΊΠ°ΠΊ ΠΌΡ ΠΎΡΡΠΎΡΠΎΠΆΠ½Ρ)?"
"How do we know which animals to shoot?"
"They're marked with red paint," said Travis. "Today, before our journey, we sent Lesperance here back with the Machine. He came to this particular era and followed certain animals."
"Studying them?"
"Right," said Lesperance. "I track them through their entire existence, noting which of them lives longest. Very few. How many times they mate. Not often. Life's short, When I find one that's going to die when a tree falls on him, or one that drowns in a tar pit, I note the exact hour, minute, and second. I shoot a paint bomb. It leaves a red patch on his side. We can't miss it. Then I correlate our arrival in the Past so that we meet the Monster not more than two minutes before he would have died anyway. This way, we kill only animals with no future, that are never going to mate again. You see how careful we are?"
"But if you come back this morning in Time (Π½ΠΎ Π΅ΡΠ»ΠΈ Π²Ρ Π΅Π·Π΄ΠΈΠ»ΠΈ ΡΡΠΈΠΌ ΡΡΡΠΎΠΌ Π½Π°Π·Π°Π΄ Π²ΠΎ Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½ΠΈ)," said Eckels eagerly (Π³ΠΎΡΡΡΠΎ, Π²Π·Π²ΠΎΠ»Π½ΠΎΠ²Π°Π½Π½ΠΎ), you must've bumped into us (Π²Ρ Π΄ΠΎΠ»ΠΆΠ½Ρ Π±ΡΠ»ΠΈ Π½Π°ΡΠΊΠ½ΡΡΡΡΡ Π½Π° Π½Π°Ρ: to bump β ΡΠ΄Π°ΡΠΈΡΡΡΡ, Π²ΡΠ΅Π·Π°ΡΡΡΡ), our Safari! How did it turn out (ΠΊΠ°ΠΊ ΠΎΠ½ΠΎ /ΡΠ°ΡΠ°ΡΠΈ/ ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠ»ΠΎ)? Was it successful (Π±ΡΠ»ΠΎ ΡΡΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ½ΡΠΌ)? Did all of us get through β alive (Π²ΡΠ΅ ΠΌΡ ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠ»ΠΈ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π· ΡΡΠΎ ΠΈ ΠΎΡΡΠ°Π»ΠΈΡΡ ΠΆΠΈΠ²Ρ)?"
Travis and Lesperance gave each other a look (ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π³Π»ΡΠ½ΡΠ»ΠΈΡΡ).