“No it doesn’t,” said a mouse.
Noxon took Ram Odin’s hand. “Expendable, please pick the mice off my body so I can begin time-slicing while you reduce the oxygen inside the ship to zero. It will mean I can’t come back and revive the mice, but that’s their decision.”
The mice scampered off his body and returned to the box, which the expendable was holding open for them. “You see we’re complying,” said a mouse.
“I’ll keep my word,” said Noxon, “but since I know you won’t, I can’t leave you in a position to alter the ship’s programming.”
“We already gave our word, but we understand your lack of trust,” said the mouse. “We’ll look forward to your return.”
“Come with us to the flyer,” said Noxon to the expendable.
When they were inside the flyer, Noxon ordered a complete disconnection from the ship.
“Now it’s time for you to tell us,” said Noxon. “Did the mice already alter the ship’s programming so that my instructions won’t be obeyed after I leave here?”
“They did not,” said the expendable.
Noxon thought for a moment, remembering how many times in the past Vadeshex and other expendables had told lies while adhering to the strict truth.
“I think I asked the wrong question,” said Noxon. “They wouldn’t have to alter the ship’s programming to make it so my instructions would be disobeyed, because I’m not the commander of this ship.”
The expendable said nothing.
“Ram Odin is the commander,” said Noxon. “Right?”
“Yes,” said the expendable.
“So any instructions I give are not binding. And he hasn’t given you any. So you could set the mice free, give them complete control of the ship, and you wouldn’t be violating any of your programming.”
“That is certainly possible,” said the expendable.
Ram Odin sighed. “I order you to obey all the instructions Rigg Noxon gave you, as if I had given them to you myself.”
“Yes, Ram Odin,” said the expendable.
“Now let me return to Noxon’s original question,” said Ram Odin. “Did the mice alter the ship’s programming, or your programming, so that once I’m away from the ship, you can disobey me?”
“No,” said the expendable.
“Try it again,” said Noxon. “They may not have altered the programs. All they would have to do is invoke a protocol naming them as your successors in command of the ship from the moment you physically leave it.”
“Is that what they did?” Ram Odin asked the expendable.
“If they did, the ship’s computers haven’t informed me of it,” said the expendable.
“Here on the flyer, with the doors sealed,” said Noxon, “is Ram Odin already considered to be away from the ship?”
“Yes,” said the expendable.
“Reconnect me to the ship,” said Ram Odin.
“Yes,” said the expendable.
Connections were reestablished. Doors opened.
“I don’t think you can come with me,” said Noxon.
“Oh, I think I can,” said Ram Odin. “There’s just something I need to do first.” Ram Odin led the way back onto the ship and into the room where the box of mice was sitting.
In their absence, the ship had apparently caused a second copy of the expendable to assemble itself. It was standing beside the box.
“Have you allowed any of the mice to leave the box?” asked Ram Odin.
“Not yet,” said the new expendable. “But those were the orders I was given.”
“Now that I’m back, am I in full command of the ship?” asked Ram Odin.
“Yes,” answered both expendables, and the ship’s computer voice as well.
To the second expendable, Ram Odin said, “Go back and have yourself disassembled and restowed.”
The expendable left the room.
“Ship,” said Ram Odin. “I designate Rigg Noxon as my only successor in the event I’m disabled and can’t command the ship. In the absence of myself and Rigg Noxon, there is no other substitute commander. You will continue to follow my instructions. The mice, individually and collectively, are permanently barred from any command role on this vessel.”
“Yes,” said the ship’s computer.
“And since I know they have reprogrammed you to say that, even though you intend to disobey me, I order you to restore yourself to the condition you were in prior to any alteration the mice made.”
It took two seconds. “Done,” said the ship’s computer.
“Is it really done?” Ram Odin asked the expendable.
“Do you wish the ship to reacquire the data from the ship’s logs that Noxon brought aboard?” asked the expendable.
“Will any of that data cause the ship to accept orders or data from the mice?”
“The logs from Odinfold and Larfold will both have that result.”
“Restore only the logs that do not give the mice any control or influence on this ship.”
“That will leave gaps in our data,” said the expendable.
“Gaps that will be alleviated after we return from our attempt to change the future,” said Ram Odin.
“Good job,” said the expendable. “You finally asked the right questions.” He turned to Noxon. “Beginning with you.”
“I appreciate your congratulations,” said Noxon. “But I’m not sure I believe you. How can we be sure the mice didn’t instruct you merely to pretend to follow Ram’s instructions, so that we’d leave?”
“We aren’t infinitely devious,” said a mouse from inside the box.
“You do understand why I will never trust you,” said Noxon.
“That is a very wise decision,” said the mouse. “And one that will cost us dearly, I’m afraid.”
“Maybe,” said Noxon. “And maybe not. That’s still up to you.”
“You mean you’re not going to kill them even now?” asked Ram Odin.
“I’m not,” said Noxon. “But I’m also not leaving them with the ship.”
Noxon carried the mice aboard the flyer, but left the expendable on the ship. Ram and Noxon then had the flyer take them down to Earth, to a tectonically stable plateau in what would one day be Peru. Someday, the Nazca lines would be marked out by human inhabitants. But right now, the ground was smooth.
Since humans hadn’t yet spread to this area, it was simple enough to pick their spot, pile up a few stones, and then find an animal’s path to link to in order to get back to the target time at the beginning of this glacial maximum. At that point, a hundred thousand years in the past, Noxon, Ram Odin, and the expendable spent several days laying out an arrangement of stones large enough to be picked up by the instruments on an orbiting ship a few hundred kilometers up.
They buried the box of mice at one end of the stone figure they had created.
Then they went forward again about eighty thousand years, to the time when they had made that first small pile of stones. They checked to make sure that their large arrangement of stones had lasted for the intervening eighty thousand years. It had. It would be continuously visible from space.
They rode the flyer back up to the ship. Noxon made several huge jumps back in time until their large marker stopped being visible, then made much smaller jumps into the future until it finally showed up again.
They took the ship through atmospheric entry and landed it on a grassy plateau in Antarctica. It was hard to believe that in a few thousand years this spot would be under at least a hundred meters of ice, but the expendable assured them that the spot had been carefully noted and it was ideal for concealing a dead ship.
They left the ship there and took the flyer back to the place where they had buried the box of mice. Then they sent the flyer back to the ship.
Noxon and Ram stood over the burial place. “Think they’re still alive in there?” asked Noxon.