Home was a place that was separated from Uncharles by more than mere distance. The past, he appreciated, was another country. Uncharles then spent some time working out how to traverse through time in an opposite direction from the customary one, but could formulate no satisfactory mechanism. Even if he had, he considered, probably he would need the permission of a human of Grade Seven or above, or some similar footling bureaucratic matter, before he could achieve it.
