Though Dev half expected the giant to emit a dramatic metallic squeak as it inclined its head toward him, it did so soundlessly. “We possess no weapons capable of inflicting serious damage to the populated world nearby.”

Dev rushed onward. “Then even though you came in pursuit of this stolen ship, your own vessel does not mount large destructive ordnance? Your craft is not a warship?”

“The civilization of which we are a part,” the golem rumbled, “does not possess or need ‘warships’ because it does not suffer war to exist. Accessing those records that are available to me, I comprehend it as an outmoded and ancient concept.”

Dev let out an internal sigh of relief. A quick sideways glance showed an expressionless Zimmer. Determined to pursue the question to its end, he said, “The Kaijank on board this ship have weapons.”

“The Kaijank belong to a more primitive and socially backward culture,” the machine explained. “Furthermore, what weapons they wield are incapable of inflicting damage on the scale to which you refer. The vessel that brought us to this cosmic sector is designed for transporting cargo and sentients. It differs from the one we are on now only in having more sophisticated equipment for carrying out similar functions.”

Satisfied, Dev turned to his senior colleague. “There! No warships, no planet-busters, no exterminating death rays. You have already admitted that bluffing is a method insufficient to ensure that you achieve the ends you have in mind.” He shifted from chastising his older companion to imploring him. “Now won’t you come back with me to your quarters? To your wife, who is anxious and waiting?”

“Shortly,” Zimmer told him. Dismissing the younger man, the scientist returned his focus to the attentive, patient mechanicals. This time he spoke in ancient Hebrew—or as close an approximation to it as he could manage. While he could not understand a word of it the choice of language did not trouble Dev. Hadn’t the machines just admitted they possessed no advanced weaponry? Despite that confession, the ongoing conversation was beginning to make him apprehensive.

Reaching out, he grabbed Zimmer’s right arm. “That is enough alien chitchat for now, Jakob. Your wife is waiting.”

Zimmer shook free of the younger man’s grasp. “Chiasa has sizable reserves of patience. She can wait while I continue to make progress.”

A worried frown crossed Dev’s brow. “What progress? I thought you said that bluffing would not guarantee the diplomatic ends you wish to achieve.”

“I am not talking about bluff.” The older man’s tone had grown detached, distant. “I am talking about throwing rocks.”

Dev blinked. “I’m sorry—rocks?”

“I shouldn’t have to explain it someone as well versed in such futuristic speculative scenarios as yourself, Dev.” Zimmer’s hands began tracing patterns in the air, as if he was conducting an imaginary orchestra—only in this instance, it was very real physics.