Vantolos’s reply was cold. Dead cold. “Then we will raze all four of the primary cities which serve as capitals to the four tribes with whom we have made contact.” So saying, the quartet of banded tentacles curved downward and pushed, raising the cylindrical body off the ground. With a spider-like pivot, the alien interlocutor turned and started back toward the ship waiting beside the shore of Lake Surprise, followed by its intimidating bipedal escort. It was not lost on Dev or any of his colleagues that both aliens turned their respective backs on the contact team, contemptuously indifferent to how Reed or any of them might choose to respond.

“Wait!” Pushing past Reed’s outstretched arm, Zimmer took a couple of steps after the aliens. “We have questions! So many questions.”

Twisting its neck, Vantolos looked back at him as its powerful tentacles continued to propel it away from the team and toward its ship. “There is no need for questions. We will state our demands tomorrow. You will abide by them or suffer consequences that are too horrible to contemplate. We have no time for your inconsequential queries.”

It took only a few moments for the alien pair to re-enter their ship and the dissolving portal to close behind them, leaving a smooth metallic surface in its wake. A soft thrumming came from the craft and the red glow reappeared beneath its underside. As it began to rise, a brace of egrets unfurled flag-like white wings and bolted from the vicinity of its stern. The contact team watched as the craft accelerated skyward. In moments it had shrunk to a glint. Then it vanished completely, doubtless on its way to rendezvous with its mothership.

Zimmer coughed, turned, and began to exchange anxious murmurings with his wife. Pavesi was speaking into what looked like a phone on steroids. Reed’s right hand, thankfully, had emerged from his pants pocket holding nothing. The big man was still shading his eyes and staring at the place where the alien craft had disappeared into the thin, sluggish clouds. Somewhere, a hawk cried out questioningly.

Digging the point of one boot into the soft muck underfoot, Dev considered the encounter that had just transpired and spoke for all of them.

“That,” he murmured softly, “didn’t go well.”

—III—

Soft, indirect lighting illuminated the meeting room where everyone assembled that evening. No one remarked on the conditions, but Dev was privately thankful for the location. Never thinking it necessary, he had neglected to mention, on everything from his original application at Thomson Engineering to his subsequent NASA employment form, that he was mildly claustrophobic. Exhaustion from the hurried trip down from Washington had helped him to cope with the previous night’s underground accommodations. Now fully awake and chronologically acclimated, he was relieved that the current gathering was being held above ground.