I caught hold of something, something which must have blended into its background so perfectly that I hadn’t even spotted it. Something alive, nestling under the co-pilot’s seat.

I couldn’t believe it. A live gromeline. 

Trembling, possibly with fury, and trying in vain to squeeze back. Grabbing my trophy – I could feel its hot little heart throbbing like an injury against my palm – I hopped out of the plane so fast that my wound protested.

‘Bully!’

Bully raised one eyebrow. Two would have been overkill.

‘Bully, you are not going to believe this. I found a gromeline!’

The gromeline – only about fifteen centimetres high – bit my finger, hard, even though I could have easily crushed its entire body with my fist – and probably would have, were I a real tester.

Feisty little gromeline.

I flicked it lightly with my sausage-sized finger. When it protested, I growled, ‘Cheese it, munchkin,’ though I could feel it struggling obstreperously against my palm.

Bully was intrigued.

‘Is it genuine?’

‘Of course it’s genuine. It just fucking bit me.’

Bully probably considered this no proof. But they’re rarer than clean air these days and his fascination was obvious. (Gromelines come from the farthest galaxy so far discovered, can speak any tongue and own enviable mental powers. They are also brave to the point of stupidity and ludicrously small. This one was mouse-coloured – they can be spectacular – with tiny red eyes. Few humans have ever seen one.)

‘What on Earth was Ho Chi doing with a gromeline?’

It was a reasonable question. A mission was no place for such a valuable alien. Could have been bounced to pieces, even during that feather-silk landing. I leaned down. ‘Did you stowaway on Ho Chi’s blinguard?’ I asked, but it just slit its eyes, pursed its lips and glared at me.

Bully trotted to his backpack and removed a small bag.

‘Shove it in here. Not even a gromeline could tunnel out of that. Once we’ve had something to eat, we can find out what it knows.’

With some difficulty we succeeded in loosing the little creature inside, where it immediately started gnawing on a corner.

‘You sure it can’t just chew itself out?’ I asked.

‘Not unless it’s got a small but serviceable nuclear device. The bag’s made of one of those new materials, can’t remember what it’s called.’