Ambassador Li knew what to do with self-pity. He didn't have brain parasites, but he did have a lifetime of experience putting his head down and pushing.

"Unfortunately, we must part ways with Mr. Ruis," he said. "The situation is distressing for all parties, but it is necessary. I hope you understand."

"I try to understand, even though your brains are absolutely alien. What exactly is the nature of Human Koen's punishment? You will starve him?"

"No, Fling," said Koen. "I'm being deported."

Fling barely indicated she'd heard. "Yes? My brain does not suppose that you will do anything but mope until then, but I believe that you will find a way to finally realize what you want and take it."

Koen thought he agreed with her brain.

"How much time does your plan have?"

"What plan?"

"To make General Graa take you back."

Fancy Death tested the other corners of the cafeteria, but when no food materialized in any of them, he flopped onto the floor and commenced licking himself.

"How much time?" Fling insisted.

"He will stay long enough to prepare the Mid-Autumn Festival," said Ambassador Li. "That's in four days."

And before he could use that segue, Fling interrupted him.

"Human Koen, how much do you weigh?"

"Huh? About 90 kilograms."

"In four days, a pack of hyenas could eat you about five hundred and eighty times."1

Koen paused for a moment to note with wonder the fact that he did not need to ask for clarification. He actually understood Fling. She was telling him that four days was a long time. Anything could happen.

Something grew in Koen, like a candle's wick catching fire. He could have Graa? He could have Laura? How? But he knew that, didn't he? After all, what was he good at?

Koen opened his mouth, but Ambassador Li was already speaking. He'd been beaten to this punch by a subordinate before, and he wasn't about to let it happen again. This was the whole reason he'd come in here.

"We would like to invite you to our Mid-Autumn festival. And your…feline companion, of course." He nodded toward Fancy Death, who was sniffing his ankle. "He's quite large, isn't he?"

Fling had some convoluted way of saying "yes," but Koen barely heard it. The cafeteria suddenly seemed small. A square of brightness in a vast, dark, plain. Something out there lifted its great, mysterious head and roared.

"Ambassador Li!"

The older human and the Toxoplasmotic turned their eyes and ears, respectively, toward the younger human. He was breathing hard, eyes bright, hand on his chest.

"Yes, Mr. Ruis?"

"Can we — " Koen swallowed the question. "We should invite General Graa, too."

Fling said "Eeeyeeeyee!" which disturbed Ambassador Li so much he forgot to say, "of course not," and spoke something closer to his thoughts: "He's sure to refuse."

"Your brain does not have enough information to simulate Graa." Fling's nose quivered. "He will not refuse."

"Oh?" The Ambassador began to think.

"He will descend like a cloudburst, a scream in his syrinx, and steal the Parturians from you."

"Oh." The Ambassador stopped thinking. There was no way he would let that happen.

But Koen had gotten used to arguing with Fling. And he'd spent a lot of time with General Graa. "He won't do that. He's too proud for revenge."

"Your brain might be right," said Fling. "But pride will also blow against his wings. To lure him to your banquet, you must balance an excuse on top of it. There are not only Parturians there, but a Toxoplasmotic," she waved her tail. "And I will invite our mutual friend Archdeacon Clay."

"Laura already knows him! Right, Laura?"

Laura twitched. She didn't know how to feel about this. Part of her wanted to stomp on this idea, another part wanted to embrace it. Was Koen stealing her diplomatic coup, or enlarging it? He was certainly giving her more work to do, but Laura wouldn't hide from work. Was she angry or sad or pleased? It didn't matter, because Ambassador Li was clearly in favor of this party idea. Laura would do her job.

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"Make sure you order enough alcohol," she told Koen.

"Okay?" said Koen. "Do Tensors even drink?"

Fling hopped up and down. "Don't lose your focus, Humans. Stare into the maw!"

"Right." Koen paced. "Humans, Tensors, Toxoplasmotics, Partrurians, the Pick. Maybe the Greaves will come if I ask them, and I know a very nice spider. Uh, Neurospastic…"

He trailed off. Koen had remembered Ambassador Li was here.

He was smiling, however. Koen exhaled.

"Admirable Self-Flinger," said Li, "Do you happen to have any connections among the Quotidians?"

"They hate parties."

Li nodded. "I understand. We also have a contact at the Monumental Chamber of Commerce. I understand that it would be good to have the chance to personally apologize to him, as well."

"My brain doesn't remember that story," said Fling. "I'm impressed you've committed such a rich variety of social errors."

Koen looked around the cafeteria. "We can't possibly fit so many people in here. There isn't enough room in the whole Embassy. What about the dog park? It's big."

"The dog park isn't nearly romantic enough," said Fling. "I suggest the forest at night."

"Clarify?" said Li, while Laura said, "Wait."

Koen made a fist. "What about Promise the Metruian?"

"Yes! Graa's pride will force him to attend."

Li squinched. "We will personally apologize to him and assure him and this will never happen again."

"You will stay alert," Fling corrected him. "Your ears will open to signs of danger."

***

In Severo's room, in Severo's bed, in fact, Mark leaned forward. He was sitting next to Severo, peering at the phone she held between them.

"The scheming little bitch," said Mark. The word he used out loud would have been offensive to some listeners, but a worse word rang inside his head: enemy.

"Another encounter with that bird." Mark pulled his knees up toward his chest, his body language all tension and self-defense. "Who knows what Koen will tell him."

Severo lay back and stretched, wiggling her fingers and toes. She might as well have been alone in her bedroom.

"I can't stop this banquet." Mark brought a knuckle up to his mouth and gnawed on it. "Li has his little heart set on it now. If I'd been there — "

"But you weren't," said Severo. "You didn't jump out of my bed, did you?"

Her question was like a jab to the throat, but Mark had his armor. He didn't care about Severo. He had wanted to stay with her, but that was impossible now. Any parts of him that didn't understand that were traitors.

He gave his leg a hard pinch and moved on. "So. We have a grand going-away banquet."

"Wrong time of year for a Last Supper," mused Severo.

"Half the Zogreion will be there." Mark bit his knuckle. "Who the hell knows what Koen will tell them."

"You'll have to stop him," said Severo, "what's the word? Put a spike in him."

"Spike him."

Severo shrugged. She was bored with word games. Bored with the Embassy and envious, in fact, of Koen. They were both being deported, but at least the cook had been able to go outside and do things. She had been considering finding a way to get drunk in the Zogreion or maybe kidnapping Mark. But this party. That could be fun.

If Severo's face gave any of these plans away, Mark wasn't paying enough attention to notice. He looked inward, re-examining his precarious situation within the Embassy. Severo was fine, Laura would shatter before she sacrificed her career, but Koen. Koen couldn't be relied upon. He would jump suddenly sideways and say the wrong thing. He was an agent of chaos, and abject humiliation hadn't been enough to stop him. Four days was too much.

"And your plan B?"

Mark stopped biting. "You mean if I can't keep his mouth shut in front of the nonhumans?"

"Then you'll be deported, too."

Mark's eyes met hers, flicked away. Back to Earth with Severo.

But he had already commanded himself to forget that possibility. By now, there was no part of him left that could rebel.

Severo sensed all this, and her reaction was contempt.

A real man would destroy everything that stood between him and what he wanted. If Mark was too neurotic to realize that she was what he wanted, then he wasn't worth conquering.

All that left was four days of fun.

If their roles were reversed, Mark would have tried to manipulate Severo. But Severo did not manipulate. She played.

With the spirit of inquiry of a little girl poking a tarantula with a stick, Severo asked, "How can you be sure that Koen won't talk?"

Mark's head swiveled. His eyes rested on hers, although he did not see.

"Absolutely sure," she said.

How does a person commit murder?

In the right circumstances, easily.

Like almost all the other sophonts of the Convention, humans evolved from animals that survived long enough to reproduce. Cooperation makes new resources available, but cooperation is not the only pathway to reproductive success. The group can turn on the individual. The individual can parasitize the group. As has already been discussed, this rich and complex political stew selected for sophonts whose tastes change to suit their needs.

Stress someone enough, convince them that they're in danger, and all of the mental tools that they previously used to avoid violence, now set about to justifying it.

It's him, Mark thought, or me.

1 Based on the assumption that a pack of hyenas can eat a 400kg zebra in 40 minutes.