But that would avail little against the almost omnipotent Klystar. Laedo wanted more information. He decided to follow Garo. Scrambling through a service hatch in pursuit of the ex-purser, he found himself in a dimly lit corridor. Looking back, Garo saw him, but shrugged and went on.
The Excelsior was a ghost ship. Corridors and salons boomed to the sound of their footsteps. The air smelled stale. Eventually Garo descended a companionway to a store room in which lay rows of cargo containers. One of them had been opened. What it had contained stood alongside: a cabinet or chamber with a transparent front. And visible within it, a straight-backed chair.
This was the stasis cabinet. The chief use of such a device was to preserve a mortally injured person until medical help could arrive. Occasionally someone would use it to transfer himself to a future century, a less risky procedure than cryogenic freezing. Garo had been lucky to find one among the ship’s cargo.
“Look,” said Garo, turning to Laedo, “this is the only stasis cabinet on the ship, and you can see there’s only room for one in it. If you get your ship working, please come and get me. I assume you’ll do that, with your ethical rating. Otherwise I suggest you make your way to one of the pleasure palaces. They’ll look after you there.”
“What happens in these palaces?” Laedo asked.
Garo looked at him for a moment. “The people there are servants of Klystar. They just sort of keep things running. The young children who arrive are mostly assigned to sexual duties with the older servants.
Paedophilia is a way of life here, I don’t know why. Later they learn general duties.”
He paused before continuing in a sombre tone. “Those are the lucky ones. Others are assigned to Klystar’s special project.” He shuddered slightly as he turned to enter the cabinet. “I don’t want to talk about that. I told you he’s a monster.”
Laedo put a hand on his arm to detain him. “Wait. Tell me more. What exactly happened to the Excelsior?”
“Klystar seized her, of course, what do you think? Don’t ask me how he did it. He gained remote control and brought her here, then took everybody off and put them on the worlds he made. It’s some kind of experiment of his. Then he wrecked the engines and nearly everything else.”
“How many Erspia worlds are there?”
“I’m not sure. About ten, I think, not counting this moon.”
“What keeps them so close together?”
“Are you stupid? They’re in a Trojan orbit. There are two brown dwarfs, orbiting half a light year apart, one bigger than the other. The Erspia group forms an equilateral triangle with them.”
Laedo nodded. It was a much simpler explanation than he had imagined. Like the Trojan asteroids sharing the orbit of Jupiter, the Erspia worlds would be prevented from drifting away by the combined attractions of the two brown dwarfs, drawn back whenever they began to deviate. It was the only stable fixed configuration of three bodies permissible under gravitational influence.
He had not been aware of the presence of the brown dwarfs, which would be invisible to the eye. But his ship’s navigator had probably spotted them and made a course correction.
“The Erspians don’t seem to know anything about their origins,” he commented.
“Of course not!” The remark exasperated Garo. “It would spoil the experiment if they did, wouldn’t it? Do you suppose Klystar isn’t able to fix that?”
Garo was becoming increasingly nervous, glancing frequently at the stasis cabinet. He seemed to feel he was only safe when inside it.
Which was silly. Klystar would be able to turn it off at any time. Even Laedo would be able to, if it came to that.
“Anything else you want to know!” Garo shouted.
When Laedo didn’t answer, he opened the door of the cabinet and stepped inside.
It was fascinating to watch the relativistic time dilation effect take hold. The instant Garo closed the door behind him his movements began to slow. They continued to slow progressively, until by the time he had seated himself on the straight-backed chair he was virtually immobile.
Laedo turned away. It was time to face Klystar.
Cautiously he emerged from the Excelsior and was shocked to find Klystar confronting him only a few yards away.
The alien loomed over the Harkio man. The spindly legs stood as high as Laedo’s shoulders. The earlier impression of a squat torso was confirmed. There were four arms, which were also long and spindly. The head was a turret, with a row of five eyes.
Klystar wore no clothing or artificial covering that Laedo could see. His body was yellow and slightly shiny. There was no sign of genitals. Then was Klystar a robot? No, Laedo decided, he was of organic origin. The shiny integument was a chitin-like substance.
After everything he had seen of Klystar’s handiwork, Laedo found that he was awed and unable to speak or act.
The turret head rotated with deliberation, in little jerks. Each eye regarded Laedo in turn. Using immaculate Argot Galactica, though in a rather reedy voice, Klystar spoke.
“Were you talking with Garo?”
“Yes.”
“He can’t help you. He is like a mite living in the wall, who comes out to eat flakes of dead skin.”
Klystar’s head rotated again. He was examining the cargo ship.
Then he strode away, on the same course he had been following when Garo first sighted him. Soon he had disappeared over the horizon, as though walking down a stairway and out of sight.
Laedo made up his mind. He would call Klystar to account, superhuman though his technology might be.
He scurried after the enigmatic alien.
On reaching the point where Klystar had vanished, he found himself looking down into a broad, shallow valley ringed by an almost continuous ridge, like a ring crater. In the ridge was a gap opening on to a sloping path, and down this Klystar was walking.
The valley contained signs of habitation. There were swathes given over to the cultivation of grain crops—a feature absent on the rest of the moon—and rows of barrack-like dwellings.
More prominent, and distinctly puzzling to Laedo’s mind, was that scattered about the crater were piled-up heaps of tumbled masonry, apparently the collapsed ruins of grand monuments. At the sound of Laedo’s steps, Klystar stopped. His cylindrical head rotated a hundred and eighty degrees, like an owl’s.
The middle one of his five eyes regarded Laedo, who walked closer and stared up at the unhuman face in challenge.
“Why do you carry out experiments on human beings?” he demanded in as loud a voice as he could manage. “Don’t you know it’s wrong?”
Klystar’s head turned slightly, bringing the second eye from the left into line with Laedo. Another turn, and the second eye from the right regarded him. Then the extreme left eye, followed by the extreme right eye.
Laedo was intrigued. Did Klystar’s perceptions alter according to the order in which he used his eyes?
“Wrong?” Klystar echoed, his tone heavy with scepticism. “What is the meaning of ‘wrong’?”
“Ethically wrong. Surely you know what ethical means. It is not right to use intelligent beings for your own ends, without their knowledge or consent.”
Klystar gave vent to a sigh. Laedo wondered where his voice was coming from. He could see no mouth.
“First of all, your species is not intelligent in the proper meaning of the word,” Klystar said. “An intelligent being has control over his consciousness. He forms his own thoughts and does not allow others to form them for him. His mental state is not at the disposal of others. This is not so in your case, is it?”
“We are a social species,” Laedo argued. “We don’t live in isolation. We interact with one another.”