“An eternity?”
He bit his lip. He hadn’t been going to mention that just yet. “So it seems. We’ve been through the Fauxi-dizalonz, Questy. We could still perish, far from here and unable to return, but if no accident catches up with us, and if we get back here to Newholme every few hundred years or so, we’re in for a very long haul. It might be nice for you to have some friends who remember when you were only a youngster, two or three hundred years old.”
She stared, open-mouthed, as he placed the king beside the queen.
“Besides,” he said, “Kaorugi wants the four of us to go with you, for then, at intervals, when we return to the Fauxi-dizalonz, Kaorugi will experience the whole galaxy, or as much of it as we have seen in the interim.”
“So you have it all figured out,” she said helplessly.
“All four or five of us have figured it out. You offer me and Ornery and Ellin and Bao adventure and exploration, we, including Flowing Green, offer you comradeship—and another point of view, which is always valuable.”
“I’m not sure my life is that adventurous. You may get the short end of the deal.”
“Well then, even the score. Give us something we all want. Approve of Newholme, as it is. Let our friends and families alone. No sterilization.”
“You’re trying to suborn me.”
He swallowed a sigh. Kaorugi preferred the presence of independent, alien creatures, but if Kaorugi could not have that, Kaorugi would have something else. Kaorugi did not like what it had learned of the sterilization order. Kaorugi felt, as had been foreseen, that justice was simply the last straw, but the Timmy part of Mouche would not let him speak of that. The Timmy part of him would not allow Kaorugi’s contingency plans to be forestalled.
Well, if Questioner were to be moved, it had to be with eloquence. Or …
“I’m trying to convince you, Questioner. Why not just agree?”
“Because,” she said angrily, “I was created for a purpose, and I feel my purpose is being undermined here.”
Or …
He fingered the last card in his hand. The ace of love. “Is that really what you feel?”
She fumed. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Sadness, certainly. And anger. She muttered, “You’re probably right about my feelings, coming from what I know about the three children. The buffers were there for a reason, and I shouldn’t have gone around them.”
“It’s not only the three children,” Mouche murmured. “The council loads you down with work, then saddles you with incompetent people and still expects you to work miracles.”
“While constantly cutting my budget,” she said furiously. “They even interfere with my technical support. That’s why I couldn’t get in touch with the ship when I needed to! Parts failure! That idiot! Can you believe that?”
He did not believe it. Flowing Green knew there had been no failure of parts, only Bofusdiaga, determined to give them no alternative to solving the Quaggian dilemma. Not even Flowing Green knew the extent of what Bofusdiaga could do.
Focus, Mouche told himself. As Madame had always said, Focus!
“Part of it is that you work very hard, and no one really appreciates what you do,” he said softly, moving his chair a bit closer to hers.
“I was designed for it,” she sniffed. “But it is hard, yes. I’m human enough to feel that.”
“Of course you feel it. You must get terribly annoyed.”
“It’s what I was created for,” she said less forcefully. “But none of us like to feel our efforts are wasted … “
“True. And even when we know our efforts aren’t wasted, we like to be appreciated.”
“Yes,” she admitted, almost in a murmur. “It would be nice.”
“I admire you so greatly,” he said. “We all do.”
“Really?” She laughed, rather sadly. “That’s something new.”
“You aren’t admired by the members of the council?”
“By and large they treat me like a computer. It’s understandable, I suppose.”
“They disregard your humanity, because it makes them feel uncomfortable, I imagine.” He put his hand on top of her own. “It probably surpasses their own. But we … I think of you as a friend. And I’m honoring myself when I give you that title.”