She struggled to catch her breath. “The whole situation. From its very beginning to now. We go from quaking in fear over a possible invasion to finding out that there never was any threat of an invasion, or even of a hostile visitation. Rush-hour commuting on the Metro turns out to be more dangerous than a giant alien mothership hovering over Washington. Not to mention that our captors—yes, I said it, captors—are the alien equivalent of the inhabitants of a Potemkin village!” She shook her head at the incongruity of it all.

“I have to agree.” Katou-Zimmer was sitting on the edge of the bed in the Zimmers’ cabin, where everyone had once again gathered. “For decades a majority of humans imagined that a first contact with an advanced alien species would show them to be either ruthless invaders or benign superbeings.” Seated nearby, her husband muttered something ironic in either Hebrew or Arabic: Dev couldn’t be sure. “Instead,” his petite but combative spouse concluded, “we get the interstellar equivalent of a pack of neighborhood car thieves.”

“At least they’ve admitted what they are.” Arms crossed in front of him, Dev shifted his back against the far wall. “Or at least, one of them did. It was Tilenyii, the crew supervisor.”

Reed took a long, deep breath. “Based on everything you’ve told us, Dev, the A'jeii seem more open to discussion than the Olone. The Kaijank don’t seem inclined to talk much at all, even among themselves.”

“Muscle.” Wiping at her eyes, Pavesi turned thoughtful. “Just like Dev said. The Kaijank are the aliens’ muscle. Big bodies, strong backs, designated weapons carriers. They’re at a disadvantage conversation-wise because they’re either not oxygen-breathers or they need a different atmospheric blend.” She eyed her companions. “I say any further negotiations we have about getting home, we talk directly with the A'jeii.”

Dev pondered possible ramifications. “I do not think Vantolos will like that. He seems to take his position as official interlocutor pretty seriously.”

“Like we should care what the squid feels.” Though he had ideas of his own, Reed had developed a growing appreciation for Dev’s point of view. “I’d caucus with the Devil himself if it would get me back to Virginia.”

“Devils live in the next solar system over,” Pavesi joked. Nobody laughed.

“Tilenyii says they cannot take us home,” Dev reiterated, “because they’re running from this ship’s rightful owners. Although we did not get into the specifics of their situation, I take it to mean that they cannot retrace their course.”

“Makes no sense.” Pavesi was clearly puzzled. “Space is, you know—big. They could easily circle around back to Earth and avoid any pursuit.”

“We don’t know that.” Jakob Zimmer had an irritating habit of throwing cold water on one proposal after another. Or throwing logic at it. “We have no idea how their technology works, and we know nothing of stellar navigation.”