“Wait,” Wilson said, and realized the Icheloe had no idea what he was saying. He made himself clear through gestures and then turned to Schmidt. “Tell one of them to go get Ambassador Waverly, please,” he said. “I want her to see that her dog is fine before we transfuse the poor thing again.”

Schmidt nodded and spoke to the Icheloe through his PDA. One of them departed in a hurry.

One of the other Icheloe pointed to the dog and looked at Wilson. “How is it that you could give this animal your blood?” Wilson’s BrainPal translated the Icheloe’s chitter as saying. “You’re not even the same species.”

Wilson reached over and borrowed Schmidt’s PDA. “It’s called SmartBlood,” he said, setting the PDA in front of him. “It’s completely non-organic, so the dog’s body wouldn’t reject it. It also has several times the oxygen-carrying capacity, so we could stop the body’s processes for a longer period of time and still have the tissues survive.” Wilson reached over and picked up the still-damp dog, who had stopped barking by this time. “And that’s what we did. Replaced this little guy’s blood with my blood, then stopped this little guy’s heart and brain long enough for the crown to think he’s dead. Then started him up again.”

“It seems risky,” the Icheloe said.

“It was risky,” Wilson said. “But the alternative was worse.”

“You mean us breaking off our diplomatic relationship with you,” said the other Icheloe.

“Well, I was actually thinking of a dead dog,” Wilson said. “But yes, that, too.”

Ambassador Waverly appeared in the doorway, Abumwe and Praetor Gunztar behind her. Tuffy saw his mistress and barked happily. Wilson set the dog on the floor; Tuffy’s nails skittered adorably across the floor surface as he raced over to Waverly.

Everyone dissolved into a puddle of awwwww.

“This is just about the perfect ending, isn’t it?” Schmidt said to Wilson, quietly.

“Just about,” Wilson agreed.

“And I suppose we are to make a pact never to speak of this again,” Schmidt said.

“I think that’s the wisest course, yes,” Wilson said.

“I concur,” Schmidt said. “Furthermore, I suggest that we now commence to get drunk.”

“Agreed,” Wilson said. “I seem to recall you promising me a drink at the end of all this.”

“Do you want us to pour back in that pint of SmartBlood you gave to Tuffy before we do?” Schmidt said.

“You know, I think I’ll be fine without it,” Wilson said.

They watched as Waverly and Tuffy wandered off together, followed by some very concerned Icheloe, carrying Tuffy’s bag of blood.

Episode Eight: The Sound of Rebellion

EPISODE EIGHT

The Sound of Rebellion