Before they departed, Lackland and the others in the room each came to shake the hands of the newly designated contact team. Frozen smiles were much in evidence as the representatives of both the military and the government wished the team members good luck. It was plain that each and every one of the well-wishers was greatly relieved that they were staying in Washington. In their case, Dev understood, a sense of self-preservation far outweighed any individual curiosity they might have regarding the appearance and motives of the visitors.

Given its luxurious interior, the plane had likely been hastily commandeered from a private individual or aircraft rental firm. There were real beds with full linen, and soft lighting, and a pair of attendants who silently and smilingly provided food, drink, and anything else requested. The five members of the newly anointed First Contact team were the only passengers. The pilots did not come back to introduce themselves or see how their passengers were doing.

Dev found himself sitting up in the seat next to his bed. Across from him, Gavin Reed was peering out one of the ports on his side of the aircraft. Turning, he leaned slightly to look across the aisle and out Dev’s window. His size meant he did not have to lean far. He nodded, then gestured toward the nearest port.

“Have a look. It’s Devali, right?”

“Everyone calls me Dev.” Turning, he put his face close to the nearest window. Outside, beyond the blinking light on the tip of the starboard wing, could be seen two pairs of additional lights. Reed’s voice reached him.

“F-22s. I’ve got a pair on my side as well. We’re being well looked after.” Rising from his seat, he began removing his clothes, undressing down to his underwear. Without having been summoned, a flight attendant appeared to hand him a precisely folded set of pajamas. In his size. “I’m going to get some sleep. Suggest you do so as well. No telling what tomorrow will bring. That’s one thing I learned right away as a traveler. Eat and sleep when you can because you never know when the next opportunity to do either will materialize.”

Dev accepted his own set of sleeping attire and, less ostentatiously, dressed himself for slumber. Finding himself unable to turn off his thoughts, he asked for and received a pair of books on the list that had been printed out and placed on his bed along with a trio of chocolates and an elegantly printed page of things not to do while on board. Scanning the book list, he saw that someone had done their research, however hurriedly. Settling down with one of the tomes, he adjusted the flexible light that arced over the bed and dove in. It was well into the late-night hours before the last words tripped off his consciousness and he was able to sleep.