"I've studied them, Diane. I know their ways. They'll see it as a  challenge. They'll be there, transmitting that racket, disrupting  everything until we make them go."

"We can't bow to this anyway," Diane said. "It isn't the policy of the Federation to negotiate with any terrorists." 

Richard looked up from the notes littering his desk. "Where is my tie? I can't tie my damned tie even if I know where it is."

Diane found Richard's tie, wrapped it neatly around his neck, tied it in a perfect square knot, then kissed him. How funny it was, she thought sometimes, how helpless he could be in the face of little things. 

They went down to their aircar. "They're a fascinating race, Diane, they have traditions that we can't even begin to understand. Not that they've talked to us. They just give us all migraines and jam our communications until we pay them off."

"It works pretty well," Diane retorted. "I can't believe how much money we've turned over to them."

"I wish we understood more of their language," Richard brooded. "Some things are obvious, that they want something or they won't stop, but it seems there must be a purpose to their actions. It's not true that we've given them that much money, Diane. They seem happy to get any at all." 

They turned the aircar over to a valet, claimed their reserved table, and pored over the menus. The restaurant was expensive enough to have human waiters, genuine flowers on the table, and handwritten signs about the daily specials. Real fish, but synthetic beef. 

They were sipping an ancient bottle of wine with an all but unreadably faded label when the violinists started making the table rounds. "Oh darling, how romantic," Diane said, calling one over. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" at Richard's blank face. 

"Get me Doctor Carmichael, in xenolinguistics," Richard barked into his mobile phone. "Carmichael? Richard Devran here. About the Szganthians. They're going to hit Brooker's Planet. Get cracking on their language constructs again."

Richard smiled, lacing his fingers confidently through Diane's, looking at the violinist. "You want to find out how to ask: 'Do you do weddings?'"