With the alien craft now holding in orbit above Mozehn, stars were visible, along with a pair of irregularly shaped but surprisingly large moons that gleamed like polished silver nuggets set on black velvet. Instinctively, Dev braced for sudden decompression and a loss of air. But nothing happened. There was no rush of atmosphere out of the chamber, no change in gravity—nothing. It was as if he and his companions were gazing at a projection instead of a hole in the hull. All of them stood in awe at the science behind the opening.

Runoyii did not react at all. As far as the A'jeii was concerned, he had done nothing more than activate an egress.

“Push your companion forward.”

Emerging from the shock of the portal’s appearance, Reed and Dev stepped behind the floating platform on which they had placed Pavesi’s body. The Zimmers stood to one side, holding hands. Dev looked at Reed, who nodded. Together they gave the device a forceful shove. Propelled by the push and suspended above the deck by another miracle of alien science, the platform slid forward. As it impacted the lower portion of the disc portal, a slight golden mist enveloped first the front end, then the portion supporting the body, and finally the end. Once it had passed completely through, it picked up speed. As it did so, Pavesi’s form slowly drifted away from the platform itself, until she was floating free and shrinking into the distance. With nothing to restrain her limbs and now under the gravitational influence of the world below, her arms drifted away from where they had been crossed over her stomach.

It looked like she was waving.

With the cold abruptness of indifference, the portal vanished, to be replaced once more by a bland, unornamented section of far more solid-looking hull wall. Runoyii’s subsequent remark was devoid of emotion.

“That’s done. Please now come with me.”

The quartet of somber humans formed up behind the A'jeii to shuffle along behind their guide. “He didn’t even give us a chance to say anything,” Reed muttered.

“We didn’t ask for time.” Katou-Zimmer was philosophical. “It’s plain that nothing here is surmised. We have to learn to express ourselves and our needs more forcefully, just like we insisted on seeing Diana on her way.” Her husband nodded in agreement.

“One less of us now,” he murmured. “One more step closer to aloneness.”

“The rest of us are still here.” Dev looked over at the senior scientist. “‘You cannot count all the time on having the physical proximity of someone you love.’”

Reed squinted at him. “Did you just make that up?”

“No.” The bulk of his thoughts elsewhere, Dev replied absently. “It is a saying by Valmiki. From the Ramayana.” Noting Reed’s continued confusion, he added, “It is not a comic book.”

The big man nodded solemnly.