“I’ve run the preliminary diagnostics on the machine we were given for review,” Wilson said. “It performed as advertised, at least for the time I had to work with it, which means it has an order of magnitude higher diagnostic ability than our own bioscanners. I’d want to spend more time with it, and I haven’t gotten to the other items we’re negotiating for. But in a general sense, the scanners do what they say, say what they do.”

“Precisely,” said Doodoodo. “These are of immense value to your colonies.”

“And so are our spaceships to yours,” Abumwe pointed out. The Colonial Union was hoping to sell five recently-retired frigates to the Burfinor in exchange for several hundred of the scanners.

“But there is a fundamental mismatch in the technologies, is there not?” Doodoodo said. “The technology we are offering you is state of the biomedical art; what you are offering us is a generation or more behind your latest ships.”

“The technology is robust,” Abumwe insisted. “I would remind you that we arrived here in a ship that is several generations older than the ships we are offering you. It’s still spaceworthy and in fine repair.”

“Yes, of course,” Doodoodo said. “We’re well aware how the Clarkeis intended to be an advertisement for selling us these discounted goods. Nevertheless, the minister feels that the imbalance is too great. We seek a renegotiation.”

“These are initial terms that your minister originally sought out,” Abumwe said. “To make these changes now is highly unusual.”

Doodoodo tugged at the base of his eyestalks, gently. “I believe the minister is of the opinion that circumstances have changed.” One of Doodoodo’s eyes, possibly unconsciously, swiveled to take in the Earthling observers.

Abumwe did not fail to catch the implication but could do nothing about it in the moment. Instead she pressed forward, hoping to have Doodoodo go back to his boss with a request to reconsider her change in the negotiations. Doodoodo was exceedingly pleasant and sympathetic to his human counterpart but promised nothing.

During all this, Liu and his Earth counterparts said nothing and gave no indication of whatever they might be thinking. Wilson tried to catch Lowen’s eye for an indication of her thoughts, but she kept her focus forward, at Doodoodo.

Negotiations for the day ended shortly thereafter, and the humans, frustrated, rode the shuttle back to the Clarkein silence, and dispersed from the shuttle bay equally quiet. Wilson watched Abumwe stalk off, followed by her assistant. The other members of Abumwe’s staff on the shuttle milled about uncertainly for a moment before heading out themselves. In a corner of the bay, the Earth contingent huddled together for a moment, talking; at one point, Lowen popped her head up and looked in Wilson’s direction. Wilson tried not to read anything into it.

Eventually, the Earth cluster broke up and Liu and Lowen walked directly toward Wilson.

“Greetings, Earthlings,” Wilson said.

Liu looked politely puzzled; Lowen smiled. “How long have you been waiting to use that?” she asked.

“For at least a dozen years,” Wilson said.

“Was it everything you wanted it to be?” Lowen asked.

“It really was,” Wilson said.

“It was an interesting trade session you had today,” Liu said, diplomatically.

“That’s one way of putting it, yes,” Wilson said.

“So what happened back there?” Lowen said.

“You mean, why did a routine trade agreement fly off the rails, embarrassing the Colonial Union in front of the observers whom it wanted to impress with its diplomatic acumen?” Wilson said. He noted Liu’s expression to his summation of the day’s events, discreet though it was.

“Yes, that would be the event to which I was referring,” Lowen said.

“The answer is implicit in the question,” Wilson said. “You were there. The Burfinor know something of the Colonial Union’s predicament with Earth. I suppose they figured that we would be motivated to make a deal of any sort in order not to embarrass ourselves in front of you.”

“It didn’t work,” Lowen said.

“Yes, well,” Wilson said. “The Burfinor don’t know Ambassador Abumwe very well. She’s persistent, and she doesn’t like surprises.”

“What will happen now?” Liu asked.

“I expect that Ambassador Abumwe will go back tomorrow, inform Doodoodo that any new terms are entirely unacceptable and as politely as possible threaten to walk out of the negotiations,” Wilson said. “At which point our Burfinor friend is likely to walk back the request for new terms, because while it would be nice for the Colonial Union to get our hands on some sweet new biomedical scanners, the Burfinor have a low-grade border war simmering with the Eroj and are running low on ships. So they need this trade agreement more than we do, and if it fails, they lose more.”

“Interesting,” Liu said again.

“We didn’t want you to be bored,” Wilson said.

“You also didn’t want us to see a diplomatic negotiation where the Colonial Union would be at an actual disadvantage,” Lowen said, looking directly at Wilson.

“And you’re surprised by this?” Wilson asked, looking at both Liu and Lowen equally.

“No,” Liu said. “Although I’ll admit to being mildly surprised that you admit it.”

Wilson shrugged. “I’m a glorified tech support, not a trained diplomat,” he said. “I’m allowed to say obvious things.”

“Your boss might not be happy with you saying ‘obvious things’ to us,” Lowen noted.

Liu opened his mouth before Wilson did. “On the contrary, I think Ambassador Abumwe knew exactly what she was doing when she assigned Lieutenant Wilson as our liaison,” he said.

“She’s the opposite of stupid,” Wilson agreed.

“So I am learning,” Liu said, and then yawned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Space travel is still new to me and I’ve discovered that it wears me out. I believe I will get some rest.”

“How are you finding your quarters?” Wilson asked.

“They’re cozy,” Liu said.

“What a diplomatic way of putting that,” Wilson said.

Liu laughed. “Yes, well. That’s myjob,” he said. He excused himself and exited.

“Nice fellow,” Wilson said, as he left.

“An excellent fellow,” Lowen said. “One of the best diplomats in the world, and one of the nicest people you’d want to meet. He even gave up his private berth for Franz to use and roomed with Thierry. Franz got a bit claustrophobic. Said he’d seen prison cells that were larger.”

“It’s probably true,” Wilson said.

“The irony is that the person who is going to suffer most for it is Thierry,” Lowen said. “Liu is brilliant and wonderful, but he also snores like a freight train. Thierry’s got to suffer through that now. Don’t be surprised if for the next few days you see him look very, very tired.”

“You could prescribe him something to get to sleep,” Wilson said. “You’re a doctor, after all.”

“I don’t think my scripting privileges extend past Neptune,” Lowen said. “And anyway, Franz travels with a white noise generator to help him get to sleep. He’s already given it to Thierry for the duration. He should be fine. Shouldbe.”

“Good,” Wilson said. “And you? How are your quarters?”

“They suck,” Lowen said. “And Luiza already claimed the bottom bunk.”

“It’s a hard life you lead,” Wilson said.

“If people only knew,” Lowen said. “Speaking of which, who do I have to kill to get a drink around here?”

“Fortunately, no one,” Wilson said. “There’s an officers lounge three decks down. It offers a regrettable selection of terrible light beers and inferior spirits.”

“I can fix that,” Lowen said. “I travel with a bottle of eighteen-year-old Laphroaig in my case.”

“That’s not necessarily healthy,” Wilson said.

“Relax,” Lowen said. “If I were genuinely an alcoholic, I’d take along something much cheaper. I brought it on the off chance I might have to butter up one of you folks and pretend to be friendly and such.”