“We would never forgive ourselves if we decline,” murmured Jakob Zimmer. Taking his wife’s hand in his, he smiled down at her. She patted the back of his hand with one of her own and turned, resolute, to face the alien.

“Such a thing has been a dream of mine since I was eleven years old.” Dev took a step to his right, to stand beside Zimmer. “If it’s the end of things for me, what better way than to end with the fulfillment of a dream?”

“I have to go.” Pavesi advanced toward the aliens and halted just out of tentacle reach.

A doleful Reed was still shaking his head. “Get gone or get fired. No wonder the department picked people for this team who didn’t have family.” With a sigh, he moved up to join his colleagues.

“I am impressed. Come now and be amazed.” Dropping all four tentacles to the ground, Vantolos turned and started back toward the small ship. In a tight bunch, the five humans followed.

Dev noted that the pair of Kaijank brought up the rear. Not behind Vantolos this time. Behind him and his colleagues. In the distance he could hear the first stirrings of confusion, fear, and anxiety rising from among the waiting, watching military and civilian escort. A glance back showed one of the technical team starting toward the slowly withdrawing knot of humans and aliens. Two soldiers rushed forward to grab the man and hold him back. Without orders they were paralyzed. They had no appropriate orders because no one had seen, could have foreseen, a scenario where the contact team would suddenly decide, without requesting permission and plainly not under duress, to head for the alien craft in the company of its contact team. Doubtless a number of those in charge of the convoy were on their phones frantically inquiring what they should do. By the time anyone in a position of authority heard their requests, came to a decision, and conveyed it, the contact team would be rising skyward.

Dev almost felt sorry for them. Over the past couple of days, he had come to know many of them personally, even if there had not been sufficient time to form real friendships. He wondered what his own colleagues in Washington and at the Johnson Center must be thinking as they watched him march willingly toward the alien vessel. Just as they must be wondering what he was thinking.

A rush of thoughts and emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Was Vantolos telling the truth when he promised to return them? Pavesi already had her recorder out and working. Neither the interlocutor nor the two Kaijank gave the slightest indication that they were interested in impeding her effort. That much of Vantolos’s assurance held true—so far.