Pope looked at the paper, read it. "I know all this already, Phipps."

"The paper is the bug, sir," Phipps said. "It activates when it leaves the folder. The paper picks up sound vibrations through the air and conduction through the desk. It converts the sound into an electrical signal that's recorded in magnetic molecules in the ink. The data is stored multiple times, so it survives shredding. You just wave a data reader over the paper and the information uploads. All we need to do is read the data before it gets to the incinerator."

"And you've set that up," Pope said.

"The incinerator plant is maintained by Navy, sir. It's not a problem. The drawback is that the information isn't live. But State sends a truck to the incinerator every night. We'll know what they're talking about soon enough."

Pope considered the paper in his hand. "Pretty sneaky shit, Dave."

"Your tax dollars at work, sir," Phipps said.

"We have a problem," said Narf-win-Getag, Nidu ambassador to Earth, settling into the chair recently occupied by Ted Soram. As was custom, he did not shake hands upon entering the room. "We think one of your trade representatives intentionally killed one of our trade representatives."

Heffer glanced over to Javna, who was handing the Nidu ambassador a cup of tea; both were wearing their best "this is disturbing news" looks. "This is disturbing news," Heffer said. "We know about the deaths, of course. But we were under the impression that the deaths were coincidental and accidental."

"The other members of the trade delegation report that prior to his death, Lars-win-Getag was complaining that he was being insulted through the Devha, which is an ancient Nidu code, transmitted by scent. As you know, we Nidu are extraordinarily sensitive to certain smells. We have reason to believe your representative, this Dirk Moeller, was sending these signals," Narf-win-Getag said.

"With all due respect, Mr. Ambassador," Heffer said. "Our files show your representative had a history of smelling insults when they weren't there."

"You're suggesting that this was all in his mind, then," Narf-win-Getag said.

"Not at all," Heffer said. "Just that he may have misinterpreted something he smelled as meaning something else."

"Possibly," Narf-win-Getag said. "However, I've been instructed by my government to ask for a member of our medical delegation to examine the body of Mr. Moeller. It would clear up the issue of misinterpretation, at the very least."

From behind the ambassador, Heffer saw Javna give an almost imperceptible shake of his head. "I wish I could, Mr. Ambassador," Heffer said. "Unfortunately, Mr. Moeller's religious practices require a rapid funeral ceremony. I'm afraid the body's already been sent for cremation."

"Unfortunate, indeed," Narf-win-Getag said. "As this is the case, I've been instructed to halt trade negotiations until such time as all present agreements can be reviewed to ensure there have been no other attempts to unduly influence the outcome."

"Surely you don't think the actions of one negotiator—if indeed he acted at all—reflect on the government, and in particular this administration," Heffer said.

"As much as we'd like to assume that, I don't know that we can," Narf-win-Getag said. "We are of course well aware of the rise in anti-Nidu activity within the government over the years—the small obstructions and objections that add up over time. We had hoped that the Webster administration would root out much of this antipathy and set our two peoples back on the course to friendship. But something like this calls into question the sincerity of your administration's efforts. The last two administrations were not particularly friendly to my nation, Mr. Secretary, for reasons passing understanding. But at least they didn't fart one of my diplomats to death."

"I'm sure we can work together to resolve this issue, Mr. Ambassador," Heffer said.

"I hope so. Indeed, I have a suggestion which will go a long way toward healing this potential rift." Narf-win-Getag took a sip from his tea.

"By all means, name it," Heffer said.

"As you know, the Nidu are in a time of transition," Narf-win-Getag said. "Wej-auf-Getag, our Fehen, our leader, died some six of your weeks ago. His son, Hubu-auf-Getag, has been chosen as our next Fehen, and will formally take power in a coronation ceremony about two weeks from now."

"Yes, of course. I will be traveling to Nidu for the coronation celebration, as our government's representative," Heffer said.

"How delightful," Narf-win-Getag said. "As you may not know, when the auf-Getag clan first came to power, it included an element into the coronation ceremony to symbolize the Earth, our great friend and ally."

"I didn't know that," Heffer admitted. "What was the symbol?"

"A sheep, Mr. Secretary."

Heffer stifled a grin. "A sheep, you say."

"Indeed," Narf-win-Getag said. "At a critical point in the ceremony, a sheep is sacrificed. Usually the sheep is taken from the auf-Getag clan herd. However, within a week of the death of Wej-auf-Getag, the clan herd was wiped out by a genetically modified anthrax bacteria. Obviously, it was sabotage, most likely by rival clans."

"Well, we've got sheep," Heffer said. "Hell, in New Zealand the sheep outnumber the people five to one. Why didn't you let us know sooner?"

"It would not have been wise to let the enemies of the auf-Getag clan know we were concerned," Narf-win-Getag said. "We assumed we could easily restock our herd once negotiations were completed. By the original schedule, negotiations would have been completed in the next two or three days, and we could have taken delivery of the sheep with ample time for the ceremony. It was not a crisis situation, or so we thought. But of course, the events of this morning have complicated matters, not in the least because it was at the negotiations between Lars-win-Getag and Dirk Moeller that the sheep quotas would have been determined."

"It's not a problem," Heffer said. "You can have as many sheep as you need. With the compliments of the State Department."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Mr. Secretary," Narf-win-Getag said. He learned over and retrieved a display tablet from his briefcase, and placed it on Heffer's desk. "It can't be any sheep. It needs to be a sheep of a particular breed, and a particularly rare breed. In fact, it's a breed that was specially designed for the auf-Getag clan when it came to power; its distinguishing physical characteristic is the color of its wool."

Heffer reached over and took the tablet. It was a picture of a sheep, with electric blue wool.

"The breed is called Android's Dream," Narf-win-Getag said.

"Odd name," Heffer said, returning the tablet.

"It has some sort of literary significance," Narf-win-Getag said, reaching for the tablet, "although I'm not sure how. Be that as it may, the breed design patent was provided to the auf-Getag, in perpetuity, by the designers and the Earth government at the time. Naturally, the auf-Getag clan has been very selective regarding who may work with the breed. Only a very few breeding agreements were allowed, and those were restrictive enough as to make breeding the sheep something of a losing business. So there was not much interest to begin."

"You're saying that no one else breeds Android's Dream sheep," Heffer said.

"We know of one breeder, the original breeder," Narf-win-Getag said. "On the Brisbane colony. Even though we own the design patent, they were unable to sell their sheep to us directly because of colonial export laws. We planned to ask for an exemption during negotiations."

"We can grant that exemption right now," Heifer said.

"I am glad to hear it," Narf-win-Getag said. "But there is another complication to consider. Prior to my arrival here we learned the virus that hit us also hit the breeder on Brisbane. Their entire stock of Android's Dream sheep is dead or dying."