Dev turned to his colleague. “That clarifies a great deal. The A'jeii, Olone, and Kaijank stole this ship from alien humans. It explains why Syrenii and the rest thought that my presence on Mozehn might help to fast-track their negotiations with the locals: a human arriving on a human-built—or at least a human-owned—ship. It implies that this vessel isn’t entirely devoid of offensive capabilities. Otherwise why would the Mozehna find its presence, and mine, potentially threatening?”

Reed grunted. “I’ll grant half of that theory. You still don’t look very intimidating to me, Dev.”

“That is because you know me as one of your own kind. We know nothing of these alien humans. Maybe they are ferocious warmongers ten feet tall.”

“You’re not ten feet tall,” Reed pointed out. “If that’s the case, why would the Mozehna think you are one of those who visited their world previously and who, for whatever reason, did intimidate them.”

Dev shrugged irritably. “So, they’re not all ten feet tall. Only those chosen to be warriors, or invaders. Like the A'jeii utilize the Kaijank.” He peered hard at the bigger man. “Do we really want to chance encountering such aliens, even if they are human or humanoid, and thereby risk making them aware of the existence of Earth?”

Reed pondered, then finally nodded slowly. “You make good points, Dev. Some of them more than a little unsettling. But it doesn’t matter. Such decisions won’t be up to us. We’re government employees. When we get home, we’ll compile and file our reports and add our individual opinions. Then the powers that be can make whatever ultimate decisions have to be made. Me, I’m going to the beach. At least these alien humans, whether they’re warmongers or pacifists or whatever, don’t know of our existence. We know of theirs, now. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s better to let it stay that way for a while.”

“The Zimmers will have their own thoughts on the matter.”

“And they’ll compose their own reports.” Reed was not dissuaded. “We’ll be back home and back to our normal, everyday existence. That suits me just fine. I repeat: whatever happens, it won’t be up to us.”

Reed was wrong—but not for the reasons he imagined.

—X—

It was quiet in the Zimmers’ cabin as the four of them shared a meal. Not for the first time, Dev found himself looking up as if to see Diana Pavesi among them, spooning synthesized cereal along with imitation milk. If only she had succeeded in mastering her internal fears and depression a little longer, he told himself. If only she had, perhaps, asked one of them for help, or consultation, or even a swift kick in the logic center, she would still be among them. On her way back to Earth. On her way home.