"That doesn't sound trite to me," Reshad says to Remi. More slowly, she adds: "It's very clear how much you care for the mothlings. I'm sorry for upsetting you." His offense is a confirmation, and the shift of her balance shows relief.

Fox to the last, she's leery of hearing exactly what she wants to hear - but if he's manipulating her, manipulating them all, he's enough of a master that she will have something to learn from it.

"I judge you are not the same."

And there's the sting in the tail: he can read the air well enough to hear the implicit threat. And Sasha is looking at her.

"Any of us could have future selves who've done terrible things. Some of them, we know about." Jedao. Kujen. She's carefully not thinking about what she could become, driven to desperation. "Is this any different?"

"We work to give ourselves more choices, no? Ourselves, and refugees and orphans and mothlings alike."