Death before dishonor, a distraught Dev thought. Suicide before scruples. Though they had agreed to assist the crew of the ship that had fled with them aboard, every one of them had experienced second thoughts. Only Pavesi had been disheartened enough to act on them.

“I wouldn’t have expected this.” Reed was solemn but had been trained to keep his emotions under control. Notwithstanding his training, doing so now clearly required an effort on his part. “Not from Diana. Not from her.”

Katou-Zimmer eyed him curiously. “Why not from her?”

The big man looked over at the scientist. “She was CIA. Put on the team not only to help with the original negotiations but to keep an eye on us.”

“And you know this how?” Jakob Zimmer’s stare was no less intense than that of his wife. “What are you, Gavin? More than just our bodyguard, I think.”

“Military intelligence. Pavesi’s job was to keep an eye on us. Mine was to keep an eye on her while looking after everyone else.” He swallowed, only once. “Dammit. I missed the signs. I don’t usually miss the signs.”

Feeling a sudden surge of sympathy, Dev stepped toward him. “Don’t berate yourself. We all missed the signs.” Awkwardly, he eyed the body on the bed. “If there were any signs to be missed.”

Inserting his diminutive form into the knot of humans, Runoyii glanced at the large, motionless form on the padded platform before turning to Dev.

“What is this? This human has expired?”

Katou-Zimmer looked ineffably sad. “Killed herself. Suicide, if the term translates properly.”

“But—why?” The A'jeii was genuinely puzzled. “Like the rest of you, like all of us, she had suitable shelter and ample sustenance. It is not known for one of us, for any of the A'jeii, to voluntarily terminate one’s life this way. We fight to sustain life, not to end it.”

“Why indeed?” was Katou-Zimmer’s reply. “Some people—some humans, anyway—can appear very strong on the outside while no one has any idea what’s going on in their inside. In their mind, I mean. Suicide is a human mental issue. It seems our friend was very resilient on the outside but crumbling within.”

“So then,” the A'jeii technician observed in the characteristically terse fashion of its kind, “there will be three of you to await your companion’s return from the surface.” Once again, he directed his attention to Dev. “Come; I will lead you.” He started for the door panel that held the exit.

“No.” His words clipped and unwavering, Jakob Zimmer remained standing by the side of the bed and its unhappy burden. “Neither Dev nor any of us will go with the Olone. Not yet.” Seeking the faces of his companions, he found there the reassurance he sought. “Not until our friend receives a proper send-off.”