dropped

on the same

in a number of details than its Overgovernment counterparts, but it still doesn’t make it possible to move in time.”
“Why not?”
“I’d like to know,” Camhorn said. “The appearance of it is that the reality we live in takes the same dim view of time-travel that you do. Time-travel remains a theoretical possibility. But in practice—when, for example, the YM thrust is applied for that purpose—the thrust is diverted.”
White looked bewildered. “But if Paul Trelawney didn’t move through time, what did he do?”
“What’s left?” Camhorn asked. “He moved through space, of course.”
“Where?”
Camhorn shrugged. “They penetrated Riemann space,” he said, “after harnessing their machine to roughly nineteen thousand times the power that was available to us before the Ymir series of elements dropped into our hands. In theory, Lolly, they might have gone anywhere in the universe. If we’d had the unreasonable nerve to play around with multi-kilograms of YM—knowing what happened when fractional quantities of a gram were employed—we might have had a very similar experience.”
“I’m still just a little in the dark, you know,” Laillard White observed drily, “as to what the experience consisted of.”
“Oh, Lieutenant Dowland’s theory wasn’t at all far off in that respect. It’s an ironic fact that we have much to thank the Trelawneys c