"Don't put that in your mouth."

Laura slapped Mr. Grumbles's hand and glanced warily around. What if someone was watching her? What would they think of her, a woman riding a bus with something that was not quite a man?

But the other passengers ignored her. They were the multi-hive Quotidian campers, now thoroughly tired of interacting with non-clones. They huddled in genetically-related clusters, inhaling familiar pheromones and trying to will their eyes to stop vibrating. They weren't going to even glance at a member of a different species.

Clad in pants, shirt, raincoat, and Mark's Red Sox cap covering his forehead, Mr. Grumbles looked even more human. He had odd facial hair, less like an untrimmed beard than like fur, which had reached a certain length and stopped growing. His nose was strangely wrinkled, the nostrils pointing forward as if someone had made a face out of clay and stuck a pair of chopsticks into the middle. If you examined his profile closely, the muzzle might be seen to protrude. But every time Laura glanced at him, the first thought that flashed through her mind was "person." The second thought was "He's looking at me."

When Laura tried to meet Mr. Grumbles's eyes, he looked away. His gaze slid past the Quotidians and lodged on the view out of window. He grunted quietly to himself, almost singing. The erectus radiated innocence.

When she took her eyes off him, though, he started watching her again. Laura confirmed it in a reflection in a window. The eyes of the erectus traveled across her shoulders, up and down her hair. Their expression was not hostile and not remotely sexual. Mr. Grumbles seemed only curious. Curious and afraid. It must be very, very important for Mr. Grumbles to keep track of the emotions and actions of his new…what?

If he was a dog, Laura would be his master. If a child, his mother. But Laura was a super-intelligent cousin, a branch of Mr. Grumble's family who had forced each other into ever chillier heights of calculation. Was that terror in his eyes? Was that the awe due a goddess?

Laura's hairs stood on end and she shook herself. Now was not the time to descend into megalomania. It was time to worry about how she was going to get Mr. Grumbles into the embassy.

Laura worried, but did not plan. The plans had been made. She would wait for Severo's signal, pull the hood of the raincoat up to cover Mr. Grumbles's face, and go in. Severo would jiggle the footage around to make it look like Laura was with Mark, who would already be in his room.

A lot could still go wrong, and Laura had worked up a good, frothy clump of worry before her translator bug clicked.

"Laura, this is Severo."

Laura did not waste a neuron on the question of whether this conversation was secure. She assumed it wasn't.

"I'm not at the embassy yet. Mark and I—"

"Never mind about that. There's a visitor at the embassy and somebody needs to talk to it."

"A visitor? It? You mean a nonhuman? Severo, I'm—"

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"You're with Mark, right?"

"Of course I am," said Laura with emphasis, glancing at Mr. Grumbles. He was giving his support pole another lick. "Yes. Mark is with me. Stop that!"

A chuckle. "Where else would he be? As I was saying, we need the two of you here, where a visitor is waiting for you. Deal with it. The good news is that the rest of the embassy staff will stay out of your way while you do."

Laura thought about that. Was this Severo's plan? Use the embassy staff's fear of nonhumans to keep everyone out of the entryway while she smuggled Mr. Grumbles into her room? But how had Severo convinced a nonhuman to come to the embassy? And how would Laura get Mr. Grumbles past it into her room? And how would she deal with it? Again?

As the bus pulled in and stopped at the UN Embassy, planning folded back into worry. Here Laura was again, stuck dealing with some impossible nonhuman. Where was Mark? Hiding in his room while she did his work for him. Where the hell was Koen? Hadn't she pulled the strings to bring Koen here to rescue her from precisely this situation? Instead, he was wandering around in the woods with a dog. The only help Laura had was Mr. Grumbles.

He caught her look and grinned sheepishly.

Muttering to herself, Laura tugged the erectus toward the embassy. " 'It'll be like college,' he said! Smuggling goats into the dorm. Studied hard in college. 'This isn't just some juvenile prank,' he said. 'This is a statement: humans are not animals.' Come on!"

He wouldn't get in the omnivator.

"Come on!" Laura tugged harder, but Mr. Grumbles didn't move. He showed his teeth at the unfamiliar door, eyes wide. He was much stronger than her looked.

Laura walked around him and tried to push from behind. "I cannot believe this! This is impossible. Move, you stupid animal."

Mr. Grumbles moaned. He shoved back just as hard as Laura pushed forward.

"It's just an omnivator. What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to me?"

A sniffle from Mr. Grumbles.

"Don't cry! I'm the one who should be crying, but I'm not. Just. Go. In!"

Her translator clicked.

"Not now!" Laura snarled at it. She straightened, wiped her hair off her forehead. "Okay. I can't force you. Mr. Grumbles. Please. Go into the omnivator."

"Eee?"

"I'm not mad at you. I just want you upstairs."

Mr. Grumbles turned around and hugged her.

Laura sighed, patted his back, and got an idea. Swaying as if dancing, she tried to edge them closer to the omnivator.

Mr. Grumbles let go. He pointed at the omnivator and said, "Ah!"

"Why won't you do what you're told?" Laura seriously considered just going upstairs and leaving the erectus to wander off into the Zogreion. But he might just stay here, on his kidnappers' doorstep.

"Why are you scared of an omnivator?" Laura marched in past the doors. "Look! I'm inside and nothing bad is happening. Look, I'm happy. Ha ha ha!"

Mr. Grumbles smiled like a golden retriever.

"Oh yes, the omnivator is a marvelous place. I love it here. Ha ha! I'm having so much fun."

The erectus approached the door, shoulders hunched and knees flexed. His pushed-up nose wrinkled as he sniffed. His long, spotted arm extended.

Laura held out her hand. He was an animal, but a tame one.

"Just like me," she said, and commanded: "Here, boy."