While its body remained motionless, the automaton raised one limb so fast that Dev perceived it only as a wisp of motion. A brief burst of yellow-green light emerged from the tip of the limb to strike the business end of the Kaijank’s weapon. This immediately began to glow and then to melt, leading the big biped to drop it with alacrity. As Dev stared, the surprisingly subdued luminescence commenced to crawl up the length of the weapon like a yellow-green worm, only fading away when it reached the far end. It left behind a length of slag the color and shape of burnt pasta surrounded by a halo of dark discoloration on the otherwise pristine deck. Showing admirable discernment, the other Kaijank promptly dropped its own weapon.

Without really thinking through the possible consequences of his action, Dev responded instinctively by walking over and picking up the abandoned device. While he had no idea how to fire it or even what the consequences of doing so might be, he felt more confident with it in his hands than in the Kaijank’s. Behind him, Reed let out an exclamation of approval.

Aliens and humans regarded one another in silence until a gratified Zimmer turned toward Reed. “I think you can let her go now, Gavin.”

The big man eyed the professor uncertainly. “She’s our only hostage.” He nodded in the direction of the captain and the several A'jeii who were now gathered behind her. “I let her go, there’s no telling what they might do.”

“If they could do anything, Gavin, I think they would have done it by now.”

Katou-Zimmer spoke up. “What more could they do than try to have us killed?”

Still Reed hesitated, keeping the knife at the supervisor’s throat. “I don’t know. I’m not an alien.” He looked, unexpectedly, at Dev.

“What d’you think, shaggy? What’s your take on the situation?”

Dev didn’t hesitate. His parents would have been proud.

“If you kill her, it doesn’t change anything except that we will have gained the undying enmity of her crewmates.” He nodded at Zimmer. “Jakob somehow seems to have gained control over the automaton.”

“Not just the automaton.” The professor sounded very satisfied with himself. “Over the ship itself.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” The knife in Reed’s right hand moved several centimeters away from the supervisor’s throat. “Why the hell would this ship or any part of it take orders from you? Or from any of us?” He lowered the knife to his side. “More importantly, why the hell do your commands override those of the A'jeii, or Vantolos, or anybody else on this ship?”

Spreading his hands, Zimmer shrugged. “I don’t know, Gavin. I don’t know the answer to that. But for now, I am willing to accept the reality. You should, too.”