“Why that wall?” Sean murmured.

“I put a dummy camera on the opposite side. They saw it and now they’re trying to shield their plot from view.”

“Sly dog, you.”

“Thank you.”

I snuggled closer to him. I hadn’t seen him since dinner. After leaving Caldenia and Lady Wexyn, I headed back to the Ocean dining hall, but the Kai delegation informed me that one of their members had developed a twitch in his middle left limb, which was a matter of grave concern to the entire delegation, so I detoured to their quarters. After an hour of medical scans, it was confirmed that the twitch was a stress response, so I created a sensory respite area in their quarters where they could destress.

After that, Resven wanted to fight with me over the Holy Ecclesiarch’s meal, which I shut down flat by presenting him with Orro’s resume. A chef of Orro’s training and experience had more than enough expertise to make sure his food didn’t adversely affect digestion of elderly sislafs. That shut Resven up but didn’t endear me to him in the slightest.

After that I received a request from the oomboles who explained to me that the water plants in their habitat failed to provide enough privacy. I doubled the number of plants, but they didn’t like their color and felt there was not enough variety, so I sent Gaston out to the Baha-char to get different plants. They were now cycling in the quarantine tank, so I could add them to the habitat tomorrow provided they were free of disease and contaminants.

“How did it go with the otrokars?” I asked.

“Do you remember that cartoon we watched where Thor is an environmentalist?”

“The one where he kept peacefully protesting ‘until he was provoked?’”

“That’s the one. The otrokars want to be provoked. Very badly.”

“Ugh.”

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

“How likely is she to go after Kosandion?” he asked.

“Caldenia?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know. I reminded her that the survival of the inn is at stake. Previously, when there were conflicts involving the inn, she was always a neutral third party. This isn’t a neutral matter. It’s family and painful memories. Kosandion is a reminder of why she lost everything and now lives in exile.”

He frowned.

“What?” I asked.

“Wonder if she’s considering going out in a blaze of glory. She’s already infamous. Murdering Kosandion would make her a legend.”

One of the Dushegubs split. Its thick trunk opened. The other Dushegub thrust roots into it and withdrew a large, industrial drill, the kind used in asteroid mining.

“Huh,” Sean said.

“It’s probably an old injury. They shoved the drill in there and glued the trunk back together with sap.”

“And it didn’t show up on weapon scans.”

“Apparently not.”