Pictured is a Huddle from Fellow Tetrapod. It is a large rhynchocephalian reptile, related to tuataras. It has a long, low body with stubby legs. Its mouth is open, showing the forks of its large manipulatory tongue. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/7448b56efa01ef223a3bef1fc438ddbd/e0a0e757a214c936-35/s640x960/6c7fa0eb47fe240cd7e9d11fb14137400325fd6a.pnj]Picture by Timothy Morris

Dr. Kaliannan looked up at his translator.

"Yes, Ms. Zhang?"

"Yes. Doctor." Her voice was businesslike. Brisk bordering on abrupt. "I have a problem. I am vomiting."

That didn't sound like nausea or even distress. She sounded like she was trying not to sound furious.

"Vomiting?"

"Yes. Several times."

Dr. Kaliannan flinched back, e-reader clutched tight to his chest. That word, several, had struck like a teacher's bamboo rod across the knuckles. Perhaps Laura was berating herself for the weakness of her body. It was a bad habit, but she did seem the type.

He leaned back in chair and set down the e-reader. The sheer volume of new articles depressed him.

"In that case, please come immediately to my clinic."

"Oh." Laura cleared her throat. "No, I must stay in my room."

"You're too weak to walk? I'll be there immediately." Kaliannan stood. This would be a good way to force himself to leave his clinic. How many days had it been?

"No. I won't trouble you." Laura said, back to businesslike. "This isn't a big problem. I only need advice."

Kaliannan put his hand to his door frame. He had been about to say it was his job to trouble himself over the health of the staff, but another thought occurred. The dinner last night with all those nonhumans, which Laura had attended.

"Do you think you should be quarantined, Ms. Zhang?"

A barely audible breath. "No, I do not need to be quarantined. This is not a virus. It's something I ate. I'm sure of it."

"And what was that, exactly?"

"Too much. It was probably all the biscuits."

"Biscuits?"

"Oreo."

Oddly, now she sounded resigned.

"I'm sorry? You said you ate too many oreos at the Pick Embassy?"

"Yes. You know. Nonhumans."

Kaliannan looked dubiously at his door. "You sound all right now," he probed.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better. I just want to know what I should do now. Foods…I should avoid?"

Kaliannan very much did not want to bring down the hammer of quarantine. "Well," he said. "Limit yourself to mild, easy-to-digest food. Rice porridge, yogurt, coconut water, mint or cinnamon or ginger tea."

"Is there a pill you can prescribe?" A sound of disgust in the background. "Or a syrup? Like for children?"

Aha. Kaliannan knew when a patient was hiding something from him, and there it was. Laura wasn't the one who had eaten too many biscuits.

"Laura, is there someone else there with you?"

A long pause. "Yes, Doctor."

That dinner must have been romantic, at least.

"Mark is with me."

Doctor Kaliannan's eyes widened. Laura and Mark? He didn't think much of that couple at all, but it wasn't his business. The doctor tried to keep the shock out of his voice when he said. "I see. And how does Mark feel now? Is he still vomiting?"

A sigh.

"Is he?"

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"No." That was Mark's voice. "But I would still like something for nausea, just in case."

Kaliannan scanned the voice for the characteristic proud chagrin, and didn't find it. Both young people sounded stiff, wooden, as if they had made a terrible mistake.

"I believe," Kaliannan said dryly, "that you are healthy enough to stand the exercise of coming to my clinic for an examination."

"I'm very busy, doctor. I'll see what I can do."

"I will expect you before the end of the day," Kaliannan informed him.

"Yes, Doctor," said Laura. "Thank you."

The translator clicked off.

Kaliannan drummed his fingers on his door frame for a moment before calling Nelly.

"Yeah?"

"Ms. Steiner, I just received a call from Mr. Cafarelli. He complained of a stomach upset brought on by over-eating. Do you believe this is true, because if not—"

"Oh yes," said Nelly. "Overeating. Without a doubt."

Kaliannan grimaced. So, Nelly also knew about Laura and Mark. He did not like to be reminded of the fact that the Science Attaché could see everyone do almost everything. At least she kept quiet about it.

"Thank you, Ms. Steiner."

If Kaliannan were to follow the letter of the regulations, he would examine both Mark and Laura immediately for signs of a foreign infection. "Foreign" meaning "from a nonhuman." Interspecies plague had once been high on everyone's list of nightmares. Kaliannan was of the opinion, however, that immediate quarantine of anyone reporting symptoms would only encourage people to hide their symptoms. And this problem really did sound like a case of over-eating. 'All the biscuits' had she said? What on earth had Mark been doing?

Kaliannan promised himself he would check on Mark in person tomorrow if he didn't come to the clinic today. Until then, he'd give the young man some privacy in which to sort out the mess he'd obviously gotten himself into.

***

"Mark, this isn't working," said Laura.

Mark, who was still frowning at her translator, blinked. Was Laura breaking up with him? Was Severo going to kill him?

Laura indicated Mr. Grumbles, who was lying on the couch, feeling much better before now. "I come back from the most important mission any human has made before, and now I'm back to babysitting this thing," said Laura.

Mark shook off the distractions and got his defenses up. "How do you think I feel? You got that opportunity because of a nonhuman who I've just pulled into an even closer relationship with us."

"Koen did that."

Envy. Another emotion to brush aside for now. Later, Mark told himself. Now disarm the opponent.

"Yes, I know you care about Koen. Everyone knows." A hit. Now to drive the narrative in further. "What do you think he'll say about how you've treated Mr. Grumbles? The job you've done."

There it was. Don't target the career, target the potential wife and mother. With the satisfaction of a demolitions expert, Mark watched Laura's anger at him crumble.

"The job we've done."

"Yes, we've all done a bad job," Mark was quick to admit. "I don't think we can take care of Mr. Grumbles."

"I thought that was why we were going to smuggle him to Earth as soon as possible," said Laura, not exactly disagreeing.

"Well," said Mark. "Here's the problem with Plan A."

He dug into his pocket and raised his phone.

Mr. Grumbles, who had twisted his head around to follow the expressions of the arguing sapiens, caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He recognized the phone. The last time that thing had been out, he'd been very upset, and now it was back.

He leaped off the couch and hid behind Laura.

Laura moved. Mr. Grumbles moved with her.

"Now, Mark. Take the picture."

Mark's thumb pressed his phone's screen. The phone's processing power was currently allocated elsewhere. A full half-second later, it captured an image of Mr. Grumbles rubbing his face into Laura's back, his arms around her waist.

Mark lowered the camera. "Can you stop him moving?"

"I can't. It will look like we're the ones who are holding him prisoner."

Their eyes met as they shared a thought. Mr. Grumbles said "Aah!"

Mark let his phone drop, thinking hard. What could he tell this creature to make him behave? Nothing! Focus on Laura then.

The question wasn't how to push Laura, it was in what direction. Go back to Earth or stay here and keep trying? Never mind which option was easier or which scared him. Never mind what was right. Which option would result in Mark keeping the most power?

And the answer to that question had recently changed, hadn't it?

Mark laid out his new argument: "When we saw him with General Graa, we empathized with Mr. Grumbles because he looks more like us than a Pick. But since he's been here with us, he's the odd one out."

"This is the sort of thinking that got you in trouble with the Convention," Laura observed, still not disagreeing. "The nonhumans call it corruption."

"I know," said Mark. He didn't, but as soon as he heard that nonhumans were corrupt, it made perfect sense to him. "Me and my brother against our cousins, me and my cousins against the world. I'm not saying I think like that, but most people do. Most nonhumans too. I rubbed mix Sty's nose in it. Eyeball. Whatever. But I won't make that mistake again." He shook his head. "Anyway. I think Mr. Grumbles has become a liability. What about you?"

Laura thought of her promise to the Parturians. And on the other hand, there was her life with Koen. Who wasn't here with her.

"What should we do with him, then? We can't give him back to General Graa."

"Of course not. You want to throw your career away for nothing? I think we should just do what we said happened anyway. Release him into the wild."

Laura looked at the cowering erectus. "You want him to live in the woods."

"He'll be fine. Like bigfoot."