“Excellent,” Gunztar said. “One reason for a short schedule today is that I would like to offer you and your people a special consideration. You may not know that the royal palace sits above one of the most extensive cave systems on the planet, one that ultimately travels almost two kilometers into the planet and meets up with a vast subterranean river. The caves have been used by the palace as a keep, as a place of refuge and even as a catacomb for the royal family. I would like to offer you a tour of these caves, which no one but Icheloe have been in before. It’s a token of our appreciation for the Colonial Union’s willingness to mediate these possibly contentious negotiations.”

“What an honor,” Waverly said. “And of course we accept. The caves really descend that far into the planet?”

“Yes, although we will not follow them down that deep,” Gunztar said. “They are blocked off for reasons of security. But what you will see is extensive enough. The cave system is so vast that even now it has never been fully explored.”

“How fascinating,” Waverly said. “If nothing else, it will give us an impetus to get through the day’s business as quickly as possible.”

“There’s that, too,” Gunztar said, and everyone had a laugh, in their own species’ fashion, at this. Then the entire mass, human and Icheloe, was herded toward the palace, to the suite of rooms reserved for the negotiations themselves.

As they moved, Waverly glanced toward Abumwe, who in turn glanced toward Schmidt, who held back with Wilson. Wilson stood, hand on leash, restraining the little dog, who was becoming anxious at seeing his mistress wander off without him.

“So, today will just be a couple of hours,” Schmidt said. “The agenda’s already been agreed to by both sides, so all we’re doing is going through the motions. All you have to do is keep Tuffy here busy until we break. After today you and Tuffy will be at our embassy for the duration.”

“I’ve got it, Hart,” Wilson said. “This isn’t exactly rocket science.”

“You’ve got all your stuff?” Schmidt asked.

Wilson pointed to a jacket pocket. “Kibble and treats here,” he said. He pointed to a trouser pocket. “Poop bags here. The pee I’m not picking up.”

“Fair enough,” Schmidt said.

“They know he’s going to do his business, right?” Wilson asked. “It’s not going to cause a major diplomatic incident if one of the grounds staff here sees li’l Tuffy in a poop squat, right? Because I am not ready to deal with that sort of thing.”

“It’s one of the reasons you’re staying behind here,” Schmidt said. “It’s a private garden. He’s been given approval for taking care of business. We’ve been asked not to let him do any digging.”