She took the hand. “That’s me. Presumably you’re my contact.”

“Lieutenant George Bentley, at your service.” He gave her a natural, friendly smile. That was encouraging, at least. Thank the universe he didn’t appear to be either a by-the-book, rigid military type, or a preening, self-absorbed pretty boy. She had a bad tendency to needle people who were too full of themselves.

They wove their way through the crowds to the traxi station and signaled for a ride. Within moments, an automated cart rolled up the exit ramp from the roadway and stopped in front of them. They sat down, and Lt. Bentley spoke a destination. The traxi’s panel flashed up the words “Restricted Site” followed by “Authorization Recognized”. The traxi accelerated down the entrance ramp and merged into the automated traffic level, and they sped around the circumference of the station.

Once they were underway, Lt. Bentley turned to her. “I read the file. As Admiral Moore’s assistant, I have the required access. This isn’t some kind of complicated test of the system, is it?”

Narang shook her head and gave him a lopsided smile. “If it’s some kind of massive put-on, I’m in the victim group, too. I’ve decided I’m just going to go with standard procedure, based on a generic emergent situation, until I see a reason to behave otherwise.”

“Fair enough. Although I expect you’ll have to repeat that at the briefing.” Lt. Bentley turned to face forward with no further comment, and Narang took the opportunity to review what she knew as the traxi continued along the roadway.

It took only another minute for them to arrive. The traxi took the exit ramp to the station and they got off. Without a word, the lieutenant pointed to a set of offices clearly marked with the symbol of the United Earth Nations Navy.

Once through the doors, Lt. Bentley spoke briefly with the receptionist. She motioned with a hand, and gave him what sounded like a room number.

The destination turned out to be a conference room, with a sophisticated audio-visual system, including a latest-gen holotank in the middle of the table.

Six officers were already seated. Dr. Narang wasn’t great with military insignia, but going with the premise that more chrome means higher rank, she estimated that she was in the presence of some very heavy hitters.

Lt. Bentley seated himself at the foot of the table, further reinforcing her estimate of the level of seniority.

“Dr. Narang,” the officer closest to her said. “I’m Admiral Ted Moore. These are Commodore Michael Gerrard, Admiral Alan Castillo, Rear Admiral Georgia Richards, Commodore Alice Nevin, and Lt. Colonel Neil Martinson from the Marines.” The officers nodded as they were named.