In general appearance, the body of the alien craft resembled half an ovoid lying on its side with blisters of varying dimensions erupting from its curving flanks and top. Emitting a steady red glow, the flat underside was pebbled like a golf ball. Several long, narrow shapes extended from the more tapered end of the vessel, though whether they indicated its front or back Dev could not say. These also drew Reed’s attention. He leaned in close and whispered.

“Those long, pointed protrusions?”

“I see them,” Dev murmured back.

“Antennae? Scanning probes?” The big man hesitated. “Guns? Some other kind of weapon?”

“Maybe they’re barbecue skewers.” Seeing the look on Reed’s face, Dev hastened to add, “I’m just pointing out that since we know nothing of their technology, it’s futile as well as unwise to make hasty ungrounded assumptions. Maybe we’ll find out when they land. If they serve any of the purposes that you mentioned, I suspect we will find out.” He frowned at a sudden thought. “What are your people going to do if they are guns and their owners prove openly hostile? We’re all unarmed here.”

“Not entirely.” Reed did not explain. What he did say was, “If I told you how much sophisticated ordnance is presently trained on the big ship hovering in near orbit, the smaller one that’s coming down now, and this particular piece of Texas dirt that we’re standing on, it might raise your heart rate to dangerous levels.”

Dev swallowed. Looking around, all he could see besides the contact group, the waiting vehicles on the road behind them, and the descending alien vessel were trees, grass, birds, and bugs. Anything lethal that had been emplaced in the immediate vicinity was well camouflaged.

“This particular piece?” he mumbled.

A somber Reed nodded. “No relatives, remember? Everything is done for a reason. Everyone is chosen for a reason. A multiplicity of reasons.”

Dev looked back at him. “You too? But even knowing that, you still volunteered, knowing that we might—that things might not end well?”

Reed pursed his lips and gave a little shrug. “I’ve been all over the world, Mukher … Dev. Dozens of countries, dozens of firefights. I’ve seen too much death to be frightened of the prospect. Respectful, yes: frightened, no. Of course, if I die here today, the military will lose a singular asset.”

“There’s something singular about you?” an expressionless Dev inquired.

A twitch that threatened to become an actual smile toyed with the corners of Reed’s mouth. Or it might have been just a nervous tic. “As far as I know, I’m the only member of the US military who raps while playing the bagpipes. My heritage is kind of a soup.”