They passed through an outer office occupied by half a dozen or so desks behind which solemn-faced functionaries worked intently at monitors and keyboards. Not one of them glanced up as he passed. Another doorway loomed ahead. That was hardly unexpected. That it was flanked by two more armed guards was unusual. His guide pushed through, stepped to one side, and indicated that he should enter.

The half dozen or so civilians in the conference room were chatting energetically with an equal number of uniformed men and women. Arguing vociferously, an Air Force colonel appeared about to come to blows with a Navy admiral. Two extremely well-dressed seniors were gesturing repeatedly at a tablet screen while talking so rapidly that Dev couldn’t make sense of anything they were saying. Feeling increasingly alone and out of place, he stood there until a slim, tall, pleasant-faced gentleman with a beard the color of Carrara marble came over and took his hand.

“Mr. Mukherjee, yes?”

Dev gripped the proffered fingers. “Yes. You—you’re Walter Davidson, aren’t you? Special Assistant for Science to the Office of the President?”

The man nodded. “Please come in. I’m very glad you were able to join us.”

Dev looked back the way he had come. The door behind him had long since closed. “It seems I had more free time from work than I thought when I got up this morning.”

Davidson’s expression turned somber. “I’m afraid for the foreseeable future none of us is going to have much free time.”

“I’m NASA’s point man in Washington.” Dev didn’t try to emphasize his role. Not in this room. “You’re the advisor to the president on scientific matters.” He indicated the talkative assemblage. “We’re here to discuss the alien visitor?”

“Not exactly.” Davidson guided him toward an empty chair at the big conference table. “We’re to try and decide what to do about it.”

They were halfway through a preliminary briefing on the basics of First Contact when the Air Force colonel put down his phone. Dev had noticed the man deep in conversation with the Navy and Army representatives but was too engrossed in the general briefing to wonder about it.

“Excuse me. Everyone, quiet, please.” Conversation around the table quickly ceased. “For those of you who haven’t met me yet, I’m Colonel Jefferson Lackland.” He looked directly over at Dev. “I’ve just been talking with your people at Houston. There’s been some contact there.”

Before Dev had a chance to react, a woman seated at the table responded.