Carter laughed.

“Not likely,” he said. “Bureaucrats are the same everywhere. Nobody on Ricketts is going to want to touch this mess for fear they’ll get some on them.”

The two men watched the engineers take up bolts. When they had finished, they fitted their power arms with grapples, pulled up the section of deck containing what was perhaps a dead Husker, and prepared to carry it off.

“Couldn’t we just stick that in a stasis tube until we figure out something better?” the young diplomat asked.

The two engineers looked at one another.

“Not enough time to modify one, even if we knew how,” one of them said.

“But if you’re worried about spacing this,” the other said, “well, if we could get it open and vent the heat, we wouldn’t have to.”

They looked at one another again.

“Electrical charge,” one said.

“Low voltage should do it,” said the other.

The ship’s officer cleared his throat.

“I said space it,” he said.

“Yes, but then you would, wouldn’t you,” said one of them. “You’re not an engineer.”

The two of them moved off, balancing the deck plate between them.

“Computer,” Carter said, “maybe it would be a good idea if you kept an eye on those two. Say, an on-command display?”

“Right you are, Fourth Officer Carter,” the computer said.

Carter looked at Gordon, and said, “You’re the diplomat. Now what?”

Gordon gave a theatrical sigh. There wasn’t any help for it but to start taking his medicine. He could see the end of the career he’d just started staring him right in the eye.

“Now, I guess I’ll have to go talk to the Unknown Origin 37 delegation and see if I can find out what happened,” he said. “We’re just assuming that this is a dead member of the delegation, after all. Would you like to come along?”

“Love to,” the ship’s officer said. “Just let me get a power suit. And, Computer, why don’t you join us? I’ll explain it to the captain.”

Carter was back in a few minutes wearing an exoskeleton, and the two of them proceeded to the hatchway.

“I don’t know what your experience with other species is,” the young diplomat said, “but we have some in this group that are a bit exotic by human standards.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Carter said as he undogged the hatch.

The diplomats were housed near the Chuck Yeager’s center of mass, where it was easiest to maintain gravity. Each had quarters suitable to its environmental needs, but most came from planets with atmospheres and gravities not far off Earth normal. When humans first mastered interstellar travel, they were surprised by two things: the diversity of the sentient life-forms they encountered and the similarities in the planets that supported them. There were a number of theories about why this was, the dominant one being that the universe has a wicked sense of humor.

The Chuck Yeager wasn’t a cruise ship, so the individual quarters were small. But there was one fairly large common area, and when the two humans stepped through the second hatchway door, that’s where they found themselves. It was empty.

“Who cut the cheese?” Carter asked.

“Excuse me?” Gordon asked.

“It’s a piece of old Earth slang,” Carter said. “Old Earth studies are a hobby of mine. I was referring to the smell.”

The young diplomat tapped his nose. “I’m wearing filters. But I think one of these creatures is a flier that uses methane emissions to help keep itself aloft.”

The ship’s officer rubbed his upper lip vigorously.

“Methane emissions,” he said. “You mean the thing…”

His sentence was cut short by the arrival of an Xtee. It shot out of the entrance to a hallway at about five feet off the deck, banked sharply, and headed for the two humans. It had a vaguely human face, a long, sharp beak, and four stubby appendages on each side of its body, all of which were flapping furiously. It looked like a cross between a Leprechaun and a penguin.

As it sank toward the deck, the creature emitted a loud noise from its rear. It immediately regained height and speed.

“Ah, Saddam Hussein,” Carter said, “it’s a Gaspasser.”

The creature shot toward the two humans. Gordon couldn’t tell if it was under control, but decided to take no chances. He hit the deck. The Gaspasser flew over, headed directly for the ship’s officer.

“Screw diplomacy,” Carter said, and walloped the flying creature with a power arm. The Gaspasser tumbled beak over butt, righted itself, wobbled on, hit the far wall, and fell to the deck, where it lay with its stubby appendages still flapping feebly.

“Adolf Hitler, Carter,” Gordon said. “What if you’ve killed it? Don’t you think one dead Xtee diplomat on my record is enough?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the ship’s officer said, “I’ve run into things like this before. They usually aren’t that easy to hurt.”

He strode over to where the Gaspasser lay, picked it up, and lofted it into the air. The beat of its wings picked up, it emitted an even louder noise from its rear, and shot off toward the hallway from which it had come.

“Whew!” Carter said. “Imagine what the atmosphere on that thing’s home planet is like. You haven’t got an extra pair of nose filters, do you?”

The young diplomat shook his head.

“How did you encounter an Xtee on this tub?” he asked.

“Oh, I get around,” Carter said vaguely. “Where are the Huskers, anyway?”

Gordon decided not to push it. “They’re down here,” he said.

The two humans walked through the common area and down the hallway, which ran in a circle around the ship. They passed a series of compartments, each with a hatchway. Some were open, some shut. The closed hatches had small windows in them. Carter and Gordon stopped to look into each compartment.

“Enough to make you want to dig up Charles Darwin and slap him silly, isn’t it?” the ship’s officer said.

Gordon nodded. The creatures in the compartments seemed to be living proof that there was no rhyme or reason to sentience or planetary dominance.

The first compartment contained a group of wicked-looking lizard-like creatures with long snouts that had several eyestalks at their ends.

“These are from Enid IV,” the young diplomat said.

“Yeah, I know,” said Carter. “Peepers.”

The next compartment held what might have been a coatrack covered in spiny balls that seemed to leap away from the coatrack, then snap back. No telling, Gordon thought, if that’s all one creature or a whole bunch and the coatrack is some sort of transport.

“From somewhere in the Echo systems,” Gordon said.

The ship’s officer nodded. “Tether balls,” he said.

In the next were a collection of what appeared to be dogs of various types. Their door was open. Most of them were sitting around a green-topped table, playing a card game. Several seemed to be smoking cigars.

“From Canus III,” the young diplomat said.

“Mutts,” said Carter.

One of the Mutts was lying on the floor, licking between its hind legs. It raised its head, and growled, “What are you looking at?”

The pair moved on.

“Was he doing what I think he was doing?” Carter asked.

“That’s nothing,” Gordon said. “You should take part in their traditional greeting ceremony.”

The next compartment contained the Gaspassers.

Next to them were what appeared to be a herd of cuddly lambs, until they smiled and showed rows of razor-edged teeth. When they lifted their feet, the humans could see they were taloned and not hooved.

“These are from somewhere down space, toward the core,” the young diplomat said.

“Cute little devils, aren’t they?” Carter said. “You can see why they’re called Lambchops.”

The Huskers were in the next compartment. Their door was closed. Gordon rang the doorbell with great reluctance.

The door flew open, and a Husker stood in the doorway. It gave off a series of squeaks and squawks.