Janaki recently hung out her shingle with a soft opening for a wood fired pizzorium delivery service in a converted storage room at ole Smoke's, whom had officially become a big fan of Ora's, car parts store. The entrepreneur and her boxy four-wheel drive made deliveries until their last order of the night under the twinkling watch of a bear, crab and lion to Dr. Payne, an astronomer in charge of a ramshackle observatory on the outskirts of town. The preoccupied doctor was lost in thought when she greeted Janaki at the door. Janaki smiled, admiring how the wrapped-up-in-her-work scientist looked like her love for celestial observations got her up in the morning, kept her awake at night, and she dreamed of the heavens while she slept. Suddenly alarms beeped. The planet hunter rushed to her refractor telescope pointed skyward out of the spherical room.

A driver-less electric van of indeterminate manufacture snaked its way up the winding road and parked silently in front of Ora. The mobile command unit's rear doors flung open. Walls in the transport were lined with collections of high-tech equipment. A figure obscured by shadows jumped out and sprinted to the observatory research vehicle. With an eerie economy of movement, the mysterious stranger began to dismantle the theoretician's barely-getting-by motorhome. Ora trundled forward like the parking brake wasn't set enough. The autonomous cargo van's doors bumped shut with a slam and its bumper hooked to the four wheeler.