Hutch returned to the cottage minutes before Arin. He came in, announced how happy he was to see his guests back, excused himself, and went upstairs to change clothes. A gloomy silence settled over everybody. Kwylla had clearly sensed something was wrong. So much so that she went upstairs also, undoubtedly to warn him. They came down together. Everybody put on an artificial smile, and the humans adjusted their ear pods so they could hear Tasha’s translations.

Arin had changed into a silver shirt and gray slacks. And when he asked in fractured English whether there was anything he could do for his guests, Ken took advantage of the moment: “There’s a problem, Arin. A big one.” He was speaking in Arin’s native tongue.

He and Kwylla looked at each other and their eyes darkened. That kind of statement from a visiting alien couldn’t be good. “What’s wrong?” asked Kwylla as they both sat down.

Ken braced himself. “There’s a dead star coming this way. It won’t be here for about sixty years. But when it arrives”—he hesitated—“it’ll destroy the world.” The Volarians stared at their guests, probably hoping it would turn out to be a sick joke. Derek looked desperate. Hutch became aware that she’d stopped breathing. “I’m sorry,” Ken continued. “I wish there were something we could do to turn it aside. But there’s nothing anyone can do.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then: “Please tell us,” said Kwylla, “you’re not serious.”

“I wish I could.” Ken stared through a window at the dazzling sunlight.

“A dead star?” Arin asked. “I wasn’t aware they could die.”

“Eventually, they burn out and collapse. Or explode.”

“I don’t understand.” Kwylla was on the verge of shock. “Do stars actually collapse? How can that be?”

“They’re very heavy. When it happens, they destroy anything they get near.”

“Can we see it?” Kwylla’s voice had shifted from near panic to a helpless solemnity. “We have telescopes.”

“Eventually. As it gets closer, you’ll see it. It will disrupt the light.”

“You mean,” said Arin, “everything will get dark?”

“Not in the sense you mean. You’ll see odd lights in the sky. Look, fortunately, this is all years away yet.”

“Thank you,” said Arin, “for telling us.” His eyes were focused on Ken, and there was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“I’m sorry. It’s the reason we came here originally. To see if anyone was at risk.”

“Obviously, someone is.”

“Arin.” Ken’s face had paled. “Can you tell me how many of your people are here? What the world population is?”

“Why do you ask?”