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“That is true,” said the Host,
perking up. “I can tell them that my wife will not give me permission to
provide the information. That would most assuredly be understandable to them.”

Philippe agreed, although privately
he doubted if the current pack of Cyclopes would be sympathetic to the peculiar
structure of Host marriages.

“I appreciate your assistance,”
said the merchant, looking grateful. “I, of course, lack priestly training, and
I fear that until the return to the station of cannot translate—I apologize,
until the return to the station of the priest who helped me obtain the
translation gear from you, I am without assistance from my own people in these
matters.”

“These matters can be confusing to
even the most experienced diplomat,” said Philippe. “I think you have managed
as well as anyone could. Your speech, for example, is much improved from when I
departed.”

“Thank you,” said the Host. “We
laymen frequently mock the speech of the priests as archaic and simplistic, but
now I understand why they speak as they do.”

“How are things going for the
priest who was asked to leave the station?” Philippe asked.

“The hearing has not yet taken
place. Religious orders are never very prompt in resolving their affairs. I do
not know very much about it because if my family involved itself, that would
harm his case, but I understand that his wife is optimistic.”

“I am happy to hear that,” said
Philippe.

The station was definitely getting tenser, as was Philippe.
Surveillance footage from the common area revealed none other than Stern Duty
telling a completely indifferent Magic Man that the Hosts had not really saved
Arne’s life but had, in fact, poisoned him twice
—
once with the food, and
once with a caustic toxin masquerading as an antidote.

Philippe had had enough. He and
George called what was essentially a press conference, speaking to a Swimmer
drone with the express purpose of creating a broadcast to the rest of the
station. George explained that the parasite would have continued to spread
without the Hosts’ antidote, so while the antidote did damage Arne’s small
intestine, it also saved his life.

“I do not know why these rumors
have been spreading regarding the Hosts’ treatment of the second human
diplomat,” said Philippe in closing. “But we consider such rumors as entirely
without merit. Our relations with the Hosts remain friendly, and we encourage
all other people not to allow such unfounded rumors to influence their dealings
with the Hosts, who performed such a vital service in preserving the life of
the second human diplomat.”

The conference marked—or perhaps
sparked—the beginning of a larger backlash against the Cyclopes. The Host
merchant told Philippe that he had stopped talking with them altogether, and
the Pincushions formally asked the Cyclopes to stop making remarks defamatory
of the natural abilities of any people—apparently a reference to the constant
harping on poisoning. Informally, many Pincushions satisfied themselves by
pointing out whenever possible that a Cyclops had electrocuted the first human
diplomat, and that electrocution was a particularly sadistic method of
attack—far more painful than, say, poison.

Of course, since Philippe
was
the
first human diplomat, he wound up doing damage control on all sides. In
addition to having to constantly exonerate the Hosts for Arne’s illness, he had
to do the same for the Cyclopes, exonerating them from blame for his attack.
After several days of this, Philippe began to feel like if he was woken up
suddenly in the middle of the night, he would shout out “isolated criminal
incident” and “we attach no blame for this incident to the Hosts.”

As the merchant had warned they
might, the Cyclopes began agitating for a court or board made up of
representatives from all the planets to review trade disputes. The Hosts viewed
trade agreements as symbolic of friendly relations and had them with everyone
except the humans and the White Spiders. In some cases the actual trade was
nominal—their agreement with the Magic Man, for example, was purely
symbolic—and of course with the Snake Boys the agreement was simply that the
Hosts would provide them with the provisions necessary for their survival with
no expectation of payment.

But in other cases, the trade was
quite valuable. And, as the Cyclopes endlessly pointed out, giving the Hosts
final authority over disputes to which they could be a party might create a
conflict of interests. The Hosts—with their polite but absolute
inflexibility—replied that there was no possibility of such a conflict, since
merchants conducted the trade but priests settled the conflicts.

While Philippe once again found
himself agreeing with the Cyclopes in the abstract, none of the other aliens
with experience trading on the station appeared to view the system as
fundamentally flawed or unfair. The priests who settled trade conflicts were
screened to ensure that they and their families had no interest in the outcome,
and that apparently had once been enough to satisfy everyone. And again, the
level of rhetoric coming from the Cyclopes was disturbing: More than once,
Stern Duty all but called the Hosts thieves.

Of course, in all the debate over
methods of governance and the motives of the various aliens, the issue of
living space for the Snake Boys was completely forgotten.

“You’re the one who is with them.”
Inhale.
“Why don’t
you
know more about them?”

“They’re weird,” said Creepy. “They
don’t—they haven’t been keeping me in a normal place. I haven’t even been able
to really see them. It’s been very disorienting.”

“Maybe they don’t have a physical
form?” asked Philippe. “You don’t.”

“I
used
to,” said Creepy.
“But why don’t you know about them?”

“Why should I?”

“Because they
chose
you,”
said Creepy.

“
You
chose me,” said
Philippe.

“No, no—I didn’t have anything to
do with it,” said Creepy. “
They
chose you. You’ve got to have some kind
of connection to them.”

After a few weeks of escalating debate, the Cyclopes
suspended
trade on the station until their demands for a new
trading panel were
met. Since the humans were still neutral—Philippe’s
comments about being attacked by a Cyclops appeared to balance out his refusal
to blame the Hosts for what happened to Arne—he offered to act as an
intermediary for the Hosts to see if relations between the two species couldn’t
be put on a sounder footing.

His offer was rejected, with Max
telling Philippe that it would be inconsistent with the Hosts’ divine destiny
as foretold by prophecy to have a non-Host try to settle a significant
conflict.

“I do not wish to offend your
religious sensibilities,” Philippe said, “but this is ridiculous. The entire
problem with the Cyclopes is that they feel you exercise too much authority.
Why do you assume that they want to acknowledge and strengthen that authority
through direct negotiation? I assure you, indirect negotiations through a third
party can work—I have done it before, many times, with great success.”

“The Cyclopes are a test of our
commitment to our destiny,” Max replied. “They are not the first test we have
faced since the prophecy was sung to us by our messiah. Our ancestors developed
the technology to go into space before the portal opened, and they built this
station before another alien race was found, all because of their belief in the
prophecy. We should follow their example and fully embrace our destiny.”

Philippe thought for a moment. It
was a bit low to take advantage of someone’s beliefs, but considering the
situation. . . . “What about that disaster?” he asked, quietly. “The one I’m
supposed to stop?”

Max was apparently not capable of
rolling his eyes, but his body language got the message across. “This is not
that disaster,” he replied. “Our friends from this station do not cause the
disaster. On the contrary, they will help you to prevent it. That is what was
sung by cannot translate.”

The situation appeared to get worse
the next day, when Baby dashed in to report that the Cyclopes were going to be
broadcasting some remarks in about a half-hour. Philippe and his entourage
hurried over to the Cyclopes living area, where a small crowd was gathering,
including several thrumming Hosts.

The doors to the Cyclopes living
area opened, and Stern Duty stepped out, positioning himself before a Swimmer
drone.

“Greetings fellow residents of this
station,” he began. “As all of you know, for the past several weeks we have
made certain demands on the Hosts regarding how this station is run. I am
announcing at this moment that we have determined that such demands are very
emphatically unnecessary. Like all the people here, we are guests in the
establishment of the Hosts, and they emphatically have the right to run the
establishment as they wish. Our demands were the result of our being
emphatically misled by certain other parties, and we intend to restore emphatically
normal relations as soon as is possible. We apologize if we caused any dismay
and hope to emphatically embrace the Hosts in friendship. I am finished.”

The crowd began talking, as a small
group of Hosts walked up to speak to Stern Duty. Philippe could see that they
were ecstatic.

He stepped over to Max. “That was a
surprise. Were you expecting this?” he asked.

“It is a surprise,” Max replied.
“You understand now why we follow the policy of embracing our destiny. If we do
so fully, all will be well for ourselves and all people.”

Max took his leave to go speak with
the Cyclops, and Philippe stood there, watching the delighted Hosts exchange
pleasantries with the inscrutable Stern Duty.

His head began to throb.

Chapter 17

“Does that make
any
sense to you?” Philippe asked
Shanti.

“Trang, they’re
aliens,
” she
replied. “Their logic is different.”