“I wish,” he said, “that we could claim credit for an act like that. But we were living in jungles when all this happened.”

“I see. Well, I wish we had some answers for you. You’re raising questions that we thought we’d resolved a long time ago.”

“I suspect they came simply because the inhabitants on that world were in trouble. Because they were needed. To be honest, we need someone like them now.”

“Why?”

“Because another world is in danger. The same danger.”

“I am sorry to hear it. I wish we could help.”

Shalon had remained quiet throughout the exchange, and Hutch, when she caught an occasional glimpse of him, thought he looked lost in thought. Now he entered the conversation: “Maybe we can be of some assistance.”

“How can we do that?” asked Zyra. “We can barely get to Dovis.”

Hutch guessed that Dovis was a nearby planet. Or maybe their moon.

“Derek,” said Shalon, “there would be more to mounting a rescue for these people than simply transporting them to someplace else. Carry them to another world, and you will have to provide shelters. And make food available. How many of these people are there?”

“Fortunately, it’s not the kind of planetary population we would expect. I don’t think there are more than two or three million Volarians.”

“I see. So, if you could find a way to move the Volarians—do I have that right?—it would be necessary to prepare their new home for their arrival. We could conceivably help you do that. We have all kinds of automation, some of which, with your assistance, could be transferred to whatever new world you choose, and employed to ensure that your refugees could be taken care of when they get there. You would have to provide transportation, but—”

“That would help,” said Derek. “All we have to do is figure out how to get our hands on a fleet of ships.”

Hutch couldn’t restrain herself any longer: “How about we ask Emma?”

“The president?” Derek snickered. “No way she would be inclined to help.”

“It’s an election year, Derek.”

“I’m not following you.”

Shalon broke in: “Whose voice is that?”

“That is Priscilla. My pilot. She sometimes has grandiose ideas.”

Hutch continued: “We have a world full of lovable creatures that look like dolphins, and an interstellar program. Both need rescuing.”

“Let’s talk later.”

“It might be irrelevant later.”

He looked at Shalon and Zyra. “Do you think you could actually do that? Help us set up a new world for them?”