“Go ahead.” Dev started slightly. Diana Pavesi was smiling at him and nodding as she murmured across the table.

“Yes. You are here to support me,” he replied gratefully.

“No,” Pavesi countered. “We’re here to criticize you. But someone has to speak to the matter first. You’ve drawn the short straw.”

“I’m sorry.” It was General McKendrick. “Could you speak up a bit down there? We can’t quite hear you clearly and I don’t want to have to wait for enhanced playback.”

“Sorry.” Uncertain where to look, Dev took a deep breath and settled for staring at the screen that showed the Oval Office. “While everyone would rather have heard something from the aliens along the lines of ‘we come in peace and extend the hand, or tentacle, of friendship to our galactic neighbors,’ I think the key thing to take away from what was certainly an unexpectedly brief encounter is …” Wanting to make certain he recalled the phrase correctly, he looked over at Pavesi.

“‘It is not extensive nor are the quantities of material demanded excessive in volume,’” she quoted from the meeting.

“Yes, right.” Dev was thankful for the confirmation supplied by his colleague’s superb memory. “Whatever it is they want from us …”

“And from the Russians, the Europeans, and the Chinese,” Zimmer interjected.

“… it is not ‘excessive in volume,’” Dev concluded.

“Of course,” Katou-Zimmer put in, “we as yet haven’t the vaguest idea what that means.”

“Quite true,” said her husband. “Despite their apparent mastery of our languages, we have no notion of what the visitors may or may not consider ‘not excessive.’” He grunted softly. “We don’t even have a proper reference for what they mean by ‘volume.’”

“It seems we are to find out tomorrow.” Dev recognized the speaker as Elena Pinski, science advisor to the president.

“Perhaps more to the point,” said a Navy commander seated not far from General McKendrick, “is the nature of the material they are requesting.”

“Not requesting,” the general murmured. “Demanding”

Everyone went silent as the president spoke again. “Requesting, demanding—I don’t give a damn about the semantics. Doesn’t anyone have any idea what these—creatures might want?”

“It is impossible to speculate, Mr. President,” Dev found himself saying. “We can only wait until they tell us.”

The President of the United States leaned forward and said tightly, “I read the abstract of your dossier, Mr. Mukherjee. Along with those of your contact team colleagues. As I recall, one of your prime tasks is to speculate. Please do so now.”