“Mr. Nagithha rented them the thtairth,” Molly said, plunking the piano keys, “for twenty thouthand yen apiethe.”

“The slut says she’s in show business,” Bets said archly, patting her golden curls, “but I think she’s a hooker.”

“The old guy came up to thee the alienth,” Molly said, banging out “Chopsticks.” “He thayth he’th alwayth wanted to meet one. My mother thayth he’th thenile.”

“Chris,” Stewart said, his face expanding out from the screen. Molly stopped banging on the piano. Bets tossed her yellow curls. They both turned and flashed Stewart a dimpled smile.

“They were just leaving,” Chris said hastily, and pushed them out of the hall.

“What adorable little girls!” Stewart said. “Do they live in your apartment building?”

“They live on the stairs, Stewart. At last count, so do four other people, not counting Mr. Nagisha’s cousins, who are living in the hall outside my apartment. They use my bathroom and make earthside calls on my phone, and I don’t have room for them or for Mr. Ogyfen… whatever his name is.”

“Ohghhifoehnnahigrheeh,” Stewart said disapprovingly. “You’re going to have to learn how to pronounce his name properly. You don’t want to make him angry. I’ve told you before how important it is we don’t do anything that might offend the Eahrohhs.”

“He can’t stay here, Stewart.”

He looked aghast. Chris thought about putting him on hold that way. It was better than his frozen smile. “You can’t mean that, Chris. The negotiations are at an incredibly delicate stage. We can’t risk having anything upset them. It’s a matter of national security. Besides, NASA intends to make generous compensation to people whose apartments have been requisitioned.”