"Yes, with your consent and only with your consent."
"You have it."
"You don't know—"
"You have it, I said. I trust you."
"Man puts his faith in Dog? Well, it will not be for the first time. Remember us, Man, when you come into your own. Now—I must invade your mind, without reserve. You understand? Nothing known to you will be unknown to me. Are you willing?"
"Another of those Mickey Finns?"
"Yes, it is the only way. I will plant certain inflexible prohibitions which will forever destroy your self-will in regard to certain courses of action—they will be ones which you might at some time feel to be wise, but which I know to be ultimately destructive. In return, I can give you a measure of sanity greater than you have known. You will lose your hags, but you will never be entirely your own master again. You will follow the course I have planned for you for the rest of your life. It is the best I can do with my limited ability, and I cannot guarantee that I am doing what is right."
"And Timmy?"
"I have already seeded in his memory banks—a careful and painstaking job this time!—all the memories and knowledge appropriate to the boy his parents think him to have been, plus other information which will become available to him at the right time. Every day for eight years I gave him the memories for that day, planning for the time when I could pay my debt by releasing him."
"You take eight years that were otherwise useless to him and give him the rest of his life for his own. Fair enough."