Mark awoke just after sunrise to the sound of Severo's voice in his ear. He stiffened in ecstatic terror.

"Koen and General Graa are approaching the embassy. Who will receive them, Mark? Not me."

Oh. The translator bug, of course. Mark rolled onto his back and stared at the dark ceiling.

"What time is it?"

"Zero six-thirty, gato. Time to get to work on phase two, isn't it?"

Mark rubbed his eyes, but the ceiling remained mercilessly dark. It continued to be six thirty.

"Where's Laura?" he asked.

A click from the bug. "Laura is changing out of her wet clothes. I am thinking of sharing the video of the shower of Mr. Grumbles. You brought Nelly on board, right? I can do that."

Mark rolled back over. "So Laura's already up. She can—"

"—leave Mr. Grumbles in my suite unattended?" That was Laura's voice. She sounded wet, cold, and pissed. "No, Mark."

"I'll just leave the two of you to sort this out," said Severo, and the bug clicked again. Mark was alone in the call with Laura.

"You want me to take care of Mr. Grumbles while you go deal with Koen and General Graa?" Mark bought time with the question while he weighed the alternatives. Surely there was a solution that would allow him to stay in bed. "Are you sure you don't want to deal with Koen and the bird?"

"I would love to. So you come here and stop the wet, angry ape-man from destroying my apartment. Any more than he already has."

Wait. No. That wasn't the direction Mark wanted to steer Laura. He sat up, pinching the skin under his chin to wake himself up. He had work to do. What kind of work? Babysitting Mr. Grumbles or crisis management? The good choice was clear.

"You just want to see Koen," he said, and was rewarded with a guilty hiss from Laura. He hadn't even needed to think to aim that dart. "He's fine, trust me."

Mark swung out of bed and mashed his hand on the wall until he found the light switch and burned the remaining sleep from his brain. "I'm thinking about this, and I don't think you have time to get ready to receive the Pick Ambassador. In such a way that it doesn't look like you stayed up all night bathing Mr. Grumbles, I mean. Why were you doing that at six, anyway?"

"It was five when I started. Mark, I haven't slept at all."

"Exactly." Mark fumbled his dresser open and fished out underwear and undershirt. "I'll take care of Graa and Koen and I'll inform Ambassador Li when he wakes up. Sound good?"

He paused to pull on his pants and allow Laura to imagine not having to have that conversation with her boss.

"And you can sleep in," he said.

"Ha!" said Laura. "Why would Mr. Grumbles let me sleep now?"

Button-up shirt. "Maybe he's tired too. You can take a nap until nine, anyway." Hair gel. "Let me do this for you, Laura. Graa and Koen must be almost here right now."

He could hear teeth grit, but Laura said, "Fine."

Mark smiled.

"But tonight, you take care of him."

Mark's expression soured. Now he had to deal with Graa and Ambassador Li and figure out a way to keep Mr. Grumbles out of his room.

***

Once again, the omnivator door dinged open to reveal General Graa perched on the shoulder of a hominin. This time, it was Koen, and he looked dead on his feet.

"I am returning Koen," said General Graa. "He is useless!"

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Mark had thought about what behavior would be expected of him. Should he pretend to know nothing? How much? He'd talked to Severo about it and she'd told him what to say.

"Koen, what the hell happened?" He faced the cook, arms crossed. "You lost the Ambassador's steed?"

Koen flinched. He looked believably ashamed.

Mark addressed the Pick. "Your Excellency, please allow me to express the sorrow and shock of the United Nations embassy, and pledge our support in finding Mr. Grumbles." He said that all with a straight face.

General Graa raised his shoulders, giving him a vulture-like hunch. He gave a haw-haw cry, which Mark incorrectly interpreted as laughter. "I am dominant and anguished. I accept your offer of servitude. Your first assignment is to call the police. This was no accident. There is a thief!"

Mark stared at Koen. If he'd changed their story…

"I thought Koen told me that Mr. Grumbles had run off."

Koen flinched again. "I did. I tried to find him, but he just ran off. We'll call the police, Your Excellency, just please go home." He reached up to his shoulder as if to, what, remove the Ambassador!?

"Stop!"

Koen twitched again. "I really need to sleep."

"You can't sleep, Koen." Mark met the cook's eye. "You have a lot to do. We all have a lot to do."

"A lot to—" Koen back jerked straight upright. "Oh no. How's Laura? Is she okay?"

"I demand you answer why you are worried about Laura," said General Graa.

Mark's shoulder's prickled. The Pick was already suspicious. "Yeah, Koen. Laura's not the one who was robbed," he said. Think! Get a firmer grip. "Don't forget what you're doing here, just because you like her."

The human blush reflex has been a matter of debate among evolutionary biologists since the time of Darwin.1 How does it make evolutionary sense to pump blood into one's face during an uncomfortable social situation?

Consider it: a tribe of savanna apes confront one of their number: "Did you eat all the dried caterpillars, Pant-Hoot?"

"Uh…No?" says Pant-Hoot, but his face changes color to show that he's feeling ashamed about something. How will that ape's genes get passed on? The answer lies in the compassion of the rest of the proto-human band.

"Vaguely-guessed-at-numinous-forces damn it," thinks one of the other apes. "I was really looking forward to a nice, chewy larva, but I guess this makes up for that time I found honey and didn't tell you about it. It's a tough old savanna we live in, isn't it, and everyone is just trying to get by. Come here and give us a hug, you goof. Just don't do it again."

And if that doesn't convince you of the selective advantage of an involuntary shame display,2 consider what the band would do to someone who stole food and didn't seem sorry about it.

This theory is backed up by the fact that, although humans with their sophisticated abilities at deception and counter-deception evolved the blush reflex, their near relatives did not. Chimps and gorillas don't turn red when ashamed, and neither do erectuses. General Graa's experience would have told him what expressions to look for if Koen was scared or needed to poop, but the Pick was not familiar with human shame.

"Why did you change color?" he asked. "Are you angry? Or is that a sexual display?"

"General Graa!" choked Koen. "I—!"

"That's right!" said Mark. "Sexual display. Laura likes it."

The three sophonts looked at each other.

Graa's crest pulsed up and down. "I reject this topic of conversation. I am annoyed! You lack concern for my lost steed. This sort of nonsense is reason I had him neutered."

The blood drained from Koen's face, another interesting physical response.

"Yes, Your Excellency. I apologize. I will call the police immediately and Koen–"

"Koen will come with me. I am dominant." Graa hunched further, crossing the tips of his wings behind his back. "I will ride him to make inquiries."

Mark considered that. He'd intended to receive Koen, throw him at Laura, and then get on with his day. But would it be good for Laura and Koen to talk to each other now? Compare notes? Koen could distract the bird if he did come across some real evidence. On the other hand, what if Koen lost his nerve and confessed to General Graa? In that case, shouldn't Mark distance himself from Koen?

"But I need to sleep," the cook was pleading.

"Incorrect!" answered General Graa. "In my professional estimation, you can be run at this rate for another forty-eight hours at least before you collapse."

Mark had said before that he would love to have a bird on his shoulder tell him what to do. Now he wasted no time in transferring this honor to someone else. "Yes," he said. "You know Mr. Grumbles, don't you? Who better to help General Graa…" Mark widened his eyes, "…find him?"

"Koen, I formally requisition you to come with me to the dog park."

Koen rubbed his cheeks. "Yes. Yes, of course, General Graa. I would be happy to help you with…dog park?"

It turned out to be an insultingly good translation.

1Darwin, C. R. 1872. The expression of the emotions in man and animals. London: John Murray.

2Crozier, W. R., Blushing and the Social Emotions: The Self Unmasked, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.