“You’re right,” said Noxon, drawing upon Father’s counsel about negotiations: Get your counterpart to agree with you about a common foundation, then build on it. “You are as entitled to the one name as the other. It’s really up to you whether you’re mice with human traits grafted in, or humans with the gifts that come from being small but many.”

“Good.” “Very good.” “True.” Father’s advice worked again, as it almost always did. More mice were talking than ever before. Tiny voices, but so many it was like a chord of music, held long on an organ. And instead of arguing with him, they were agreeing, amplifying.

“For all I know, you’ll be the key to solving the problem and saving Garden from the Destroyers,” said Noxon. “But you have to agree in advance that you’ll stay on the ship until I choose to bring you to Earth, and that you’ll do no mischief.”

Silence for a while, and then a lone voice: “Mischief to you might be survival to us.”

“I understand that. I’m asking you to put a lot of trust in me.”

“But you are not putting any trust in us.” “You try to control us.”

“Trust? I’m putting my life in your hands. Once you’re on the ship, I can’t possibly watch you all the time. You know how to interface with the ship’s computers, you could change our course, you could corrupt the life support. You know how to kill a man in his sleep.”

“We can’t harm you.” “You are the one who can take us into the past.” “Backflowing time is a trap only you can pull us out of.”

“Yes. You know you need me, but I don’t know yet if I need you.”

“Whatever you say.” “Take us along.” “We promise.”

There was no way to get any firmer promise than that. What could they stake as collateral to assure their compliance? Noxon had to proceed on the assumption that they would try to cheat him eventually, even if they were perfectly sincere in their promises now.

Yet, being human, he couldn’t help but try to give the oath as much force as possible.

“I don’t know how your society functions,” said Noxon. “Do you speak for everyone? Every single homusculus?”

“Definitely.” “We all agree.”

“If you truly all agree, then I’m not sure you should be considered human,” said Noxon. “Total agreement is something humans never achieve.”

“Lots of discussion.” “Plenty of disagreement.” “Many hate the plan.”

“The issue is whether this promise will be binding on all the homusculi, even those who disagree.”

“Can any human speak for all other humans?” asked a lone voice.