“If Wilmos wasn’t a factor, would you still hold this event?” Mr. Rodriguez asked.

“No,” Sean and I said at the same time.

“Good,” Mr. Rodriguez said.

We had told them about Wilmos and the corrupted ad-hal. I showed Mr. Rodriguez the security footage when I filed for the permits.

“We’re not trying to make a name for ourselves,” I said. “No sane innkeeper would want to host this.”

“You don’t know how right you are,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “The Assembly is very uncomfortable with this entire thing.”

“It’s not ambition,” Sean said. “It’s necessity.” He looked at Tony. “Can you survive on Karron?”

Tony paused his chewing and thought about it. “Possibly.”

“There is your answer,” Sean said. “If they are so uncomfortable, they can send some ad-hal to Karron to figure out why corrupted versions of them are running around kidnapping people.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “Our sphere of influence is limited to Earth.”

The Treaty that guaranteed Earth’s special status was very specific. The ad-hal jurisdiction stopped just outside the solar system. In very rare cases, they would hunt an offender down, but most of the time, even if you went on a killing spree inside an inn, as long as you fled into the greater galaxy, they wouldn’t chase you. If you dared to return, however, there would be no escape.

“This entire thing has the Arbitrators’ fingerprints all over it,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “Is an Arbitrator involved?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Is it George Camarine?”

“Yes,” I said again.

“That man is a menace.” Mr. Rodriguez shook his head. “No other inn on Earth is willing to host this mess. Are you two sure you have to do this? Especially considering your permanent guest.”

“We are sure,” Sean said.

“The Dominion knows about Caldenia,” I told them. “They don’t see an issue.”

“Your permits are approved in their entirety,” Mr. Rodriguez said.

“Nobody wants to offend the Dominion,” Sean said.

Tony nodded. “You got it.”

“We are raising your rating to 3.5 stars,” Mr. Rodriguez continued.

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. It had to be nerves.

Sean glanced at me.

“They are too embarrassed to let the Sovereign stay at a 2.5 star inn,” Tony told him.

“We hosted a Drifan Liege during a Treaty stay and they did not raise our rating,” I managed between the giggles.

“Yes, but the two of you also allowed a guest and a staff member to make a giant scene at a taping of a TV show and nearly exposed the fact that your chef is a seven-foot-tall alien covered in quills,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “The Assembly takes everything into account.”

I laughed harder.

“The Assembly has two conditions,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “If you stop giggling for a moment, I will explain them to you. First, Tony will stay here in his official capacity to back you up.”

Tony grinned, raised his arm, and flexed.