"Welcome, Zoë," it said to me. "We welcome you at the start of your time with the Obin."

"Thank you," I said. "Are you the council member?"

"I am," it said. "My name is Dock."

I tried very hard to keep a smile off my face and failed miserably. "You said your name was Dock," I said.

"Yes," it said.

"As in 'Hickory, Dickory, Dock,'" I said.

"That is correct," it said.

"That's quite a coincidence," I said, once I got my face back under control.

"It is not a coincidence," Dock said. "When you named Hickory and Dickory, we learned of the nursery rhyme from which you derived the names. When I and many other Obin chose names for ourselves, we chose words from the rhyme."

"I knew there were other Hickorys and Dickorys," I said. "But you're telling me that there are other Obin named 'Dock,' too."

"Yes," said Dock.

"And 'Mouse' and 'Clock,'" I said.

"Yes," said Dock.

"What about 'Ran,' 'Up,' and 'The'?" I asked.

"Every word in the rhyme is popular as a name," said Dock.

"I hope some of the Obin know they've named themselves after a definite article," I said.

"We are all aware of the meaning of the words," Dock said. "What was important is the association to you. You named these two 'Hickory' and 'Dickory.' Everything followed from there."

I had been getting sidetracked by the idea that an entire fearsome race of aliens had given themselves goofy names because of the names I had thoughtlessly given two of them more than a decade before; this comment by Dock snapped me back into focus. It was a reminder that the Obin, with their new consciousness, had so identified with me, so imprinted on me, even as a child, that even a nursery rhyme I liked carried weight.

Demand something back.

My stomach cramped up. I ignored it.

"Hickory," I said. "Are you and Dickory recording right now?"

"Yes," Hickory said.

"Stop please," I said. "Councilor Dock, are you recording this right now?"

"I am," it said. "Although only for my personal recollection."

"Please stop," I said. They all stopped recording.

"Have we offended you?" Dock asked.

"No," I said. "But I don't think you'll want this as part of the permanent record." I took a deep breath. "I require something from the Obin, Councilor."

"Tell me what it is," Dock said. "I will try to find it for you."

"I require the Obin to help me defend Roanoke," I said.

"I am afraid we are unable to help you with that request," Dock said.

"It's not a request," I said.

"I do not understand," Dock said.

"I said, it's not a request. I didn't request the Obin's help, Councilor. I said I require it. There's a difference."

"We cannot comply," Dock said. "The Colonial Union has requested that we provide no assistance to Roanoke."

"I don't care," I said. "What the Colonial Union wants at this point means absolutely nothing to me. The Colonial Union is planning to let everyone I care about die because it's decided Roanoke is more useful as a symbol than a colony. I don't give a crap about the symbolism. I care about the people. My friends and family. They need help. And I require it from you."

"Assisting you means breaking our treaty with the Colonial Union," Dock said.

"Your treaty," I said. "That would be the one that allows you access to me."

"Yes," Dickory said.

"You realize you have me," I said. "On this ship. Technically on Obin territory. You don't need Colonial Union permission to see me anymore."

"Our treaty with the Colonial Union is not only about access to you," Dock said. "It covers many issues, including our access to the consciousness machines we wear. We cannot go against this treaty, even for you."

"Then don't break it," I said, and this is where I mentally crossed my fingers. I knew the Obin would say they couldn't break their treaty with the Colonial Union; Hickory had said so before. This is where things were about to get really tricky. "I require the Obin help me defend Roanoke, Councilor. I didn't say the Obin had to do it themselves."

"I am afraid I do not understand you," Dock said.

"Get someone else to help me," I said. "Hint to them that the help would be appreciated. Do whatever you have to do."

"We would not be able to hide our influence," Dock said. "The Colonial Union will not be swayed by the argument that our forcing another race to act on your behalf does not constitute interference."

"Then ask someone the Colonial Union knows you can't force," I said.

"Whom do you suggest?" Dock asked.

There's an old expression for when you do something completely crazy. "Shooting the moon," it's called.

This was me raising my rifle.

"The Consu," I said.

Blam. There went my shot at a very faraway moon.

But it was a shot I had to take. The Obin were obsessed with the Consu, for perfectly excellent reasons: How could you not be obsessed with the creatures that gave you intelligence, and then ignored you for the rest of eternity? The Consu had spoken to the Obin only once since they gave them consciousness, and that conversation came at the high cost of half of all Obin, everywhere. I remembered that cost. I planned to use it to my advantage now.

"The Consu do not speak to us," Dock said.

"Make them," I said.

"We do not know how," Dock said.

"Find a way," I said. "I know how the Obin feel about the Consu, Councilor. I've studied them. I've studied you. Hickory and Dickory made a story about them. Obin's first creation myth, except it's true. I know how you got them to speak to you. And I know you've tried to get them to speak to you again since then. Tell me it's not true."

"It's true," Dock said.

"I'm willing to guess you're still working on it even now," I said.

"We are," Dock said. "We have been."

"Now is the time to make that happen," I said.

"There is no guarantee that the Consu would help you, even if we convinced them to speak to us and hear our plea on your behalf," Dock said. "The Consu are unknowable."

"I understand that," I said. "It's worth a try anyway."

"Even if what you ask were possible, it would come at a high cost," Dock said. "If you knew what it cost us the last time we spoke to the Consu—"

"I know exactly how much it cost," I said. "Hickory told me. And I know the Obin are used to paying for what they get. Let me ask you, Councilor. What did you get from my biological father? What did you get from Charles Boutin?"

"He gave us consciousness," Dock said, "as you well know. But it came at a price. Your father asked for a war."

"Which you never gave him," I said. "My father died before you could pay up. You got his gift for free."

"The Colonial Union asked for a price to finish his work," Dock said.

"That's between you and the Colonial Union," I said. "It doesn't take anything away from what my father did, or the fact you never paid for it. I am his daughter. I am his heir. The fact you are here says that the Obin give me the honor they would give him. I could say to you that you owe me what you owe him: a war, at least."

"I cannot say that we owe you what we owed your father," Dock said.

"Then what do you owe me?" I asked. "What do you owe me for what I've done for you? What is your name?"

"My name is Dock," it said.

"A name you have because one day I named those two Hickory and Dickory," I said, pointing at my two friends. "It's only the most obvious example of what you have through me. My father gave you consciousness, but you didn't know what to do with it, did you? None of you did. All of you learned what to do with your consciousness by watching me grow into mine, as a child and now as who I am today. Councilor, how many Obin have watched my life? Seen how I did things? Learned from me?"

"All of them," Dock said. "We have all learned from you, Zoë."