A few steps on found them in a domed chamber. Just above the floor, a single row of what resembled oversized egg cups were embedded in the curving wall. At the far end, a pair of aliens sat in cups that had warped to fit their bodies. Yet another new species, Dev marveled. Compared to Vantolos they were small; beside the Kaijank they would have been positively diminutive. Lights and ovoid screens drifted in the air in front of and beside them. Like the Kaijank they were bipeds, but they had no need of the bodyguards’ bulky suits or helmets. When one turned to its left to manipulate several colorful hovering images without touching them, Dev saw that it possessed huge, round eyes with proportionately large pupils. These gave the equally round faces a lemur-like appearance. Round ears protruded from each side of the bald, dark-skinned skull and he thought he could see thick lips framing a small mouth. Coupled with the loose red and yellow clothing they wore and the supple movements of their short arms and fingers, they looked like oversized rubber toys. He allowed himself a smile. It seemed that not every sentient Out There was as alien in appearance as the Olone or as intimidating as the Kaijank.

Noticing the direction of his stare, Vantolos said simply, “Those are A'jeii. Very competent folk.”

In addition to the new species, the chamber was populated by a smattering of automatons of varying size. Some boasted tentacles, others manipulative digits more akin to humanoid fingers, while the majority displayed no limbs at all. Most were gray, but a couple boasted a distinctive golden patina. All were inscribed with incomprehensible symbols. They whizzed to and fro, intent on tasks guided either by programming or artificial intelligence. They ignored the new arrivals, the two small aliens up front, and each other with silent equanimity.

Vantolos directed the contact team to half a dozen nearby empty egg cups. “Sit. Or repose in whatever fashion your inflexible limbs find amenable.”

An uncertain Pavesi eyed the cup in front of her. The interior was deep-set, jet-black, and far too small to accommodate the magnitude of her fundament. “I don’t think that’s made for me.”

“Me either.” Reed spoke out of need, not gallantry.

“Sit,” Vantolos repeated. “The apparatus will adjust as necessary. Observe.” So saying he rotated on his four tentacles and slumped backward. Deforming like putty, the cup shape immediately twisted itself into a form suitable to accept the Olone’s cylindrical trunk, protruding head, and sprawling limbs.

Exhibiting no hesitation, Katou-Zimmer pivoted and sat down. What reformed to welcome her was a reasonable approximation of a comfortable, padded, lounge chair. Her companions quickly copied her example. Dev found the soft but firm and slightly enfolding material very accommodating.