But the impatience of my imperial colleague puts that out of the question.”
There was a little pause, and Bob Star observed an anxious, restless movement of the misty pillar spinning within the thing that was master of the comet.
“It is a pleasure,” resumed the brightly sardonic voice of Stephen Oreo, “to be present at a crisis in universal history.
And, as I interpret the somewhat apprehensive behavior of my colleague, as we entered, this is indeed a crisis.
I believe that your audacious indiscretion hi forcing your way into the chamber of generation is going to result in an order for the immediate total extermination of mankind.
A somewhat solemn occasion, don’t you agree?”
An untroubled chuckle rang from that column of living light.
“Not that I’m going to feel any compunction about assisting with the execution—”
The bright shape of the ruler of the Cometeers had moved again, as if impatiently.
A shadowy arm of that bright haze reached out— and Bob Star felt a tingling of his skin.
A greenish mist began to blur his vision.
This, he thought, was the ultimate moment.
“Wait, Oreo!”
Dimly, through the sudden rushing in his deafened ears, Bob Star heard Jay Kalam’s strained and husky voice.
“Wait—if you want to know how you can assist so calmly with the extermination of mankind.
Because I can tell you why, Stephen Oreo.
I know who—what—you really are.”
Bob Star was aware of reprieve.
The tingling numbness receded from his limbs.
He could see again, and the roaring faded from his ears.
He heard the mocking challenge of Stephen Oreo’s voice:
“Well, Commander Kalam?”
Jay Kalam paused as if to choose his words, and spoke at last with a strangely cool deliberation.
“Stephen Oreo,” he said, “we first tried to enter the comet upon a small geodesic cruiser.
A shining monster came aboard; it wrecked our generators and killed an old associate of yours, one Mark Lardo.”
“I am aware of the incident—none better,” Oreo’s voice cut in impatiently.
Listening, Bob Star wondered vaguely at the commander’s purpose.
He was fighting for time, obviously.
Yet what, in this ultimate extremity of defeat, was the value of time?
In a moment, however, his wonder was lost, in his consuming interest in Jay Kalam’s revelation.
“We landed the wreck upon an uncharted transplutonian asteroid.
It had been inhabited.
Its people had been destroyed by the Cometeers. They left us a fascinating mystery.
A thousand things told us that the owner of the asteroid had been an able scientist and a gifted artist.
Everything on that tiny world proclaimed his genius—and his amazing wealth.
It was hard for us to imagine why such a man should have hidden himself on that lonely rock, outside the System.”
“But why is your problem of any interest to me?” inquired the voice from that shining thing.
“Because it explains your difference from other men,” Jay Kalam said.
“Your unusual gifts, your desire for superiority, your hostility to mankind.”
“Go on,” said Oreo’s voice. “But be quick.”
And it seemed to Bob Star that the nearer shining thing made a restraining gesture, to halt some act of the ruler of the comet.
“One remarkable feature of the riddle,” the commander continued, “was a very complete biological laboratory, cleverly hidden beneath the dwelling.
Another was the emblem that strange exile had chosen to mark his belongings—the crux ansata and crossed bones, in red, on a black background.
You may recall that the same emblem—the symbol of life above the symbol of death—is associated with the puzzle of your own origin?”
The shining being came a little nearer; the restless whirling of its green-and-argent pillar seemed to pause; Bob Star sensed its compelling interest.
“When the asteroid was dragged into the comet—”
“Thank you.” The bright being chuckled.
“Your penetration of the outer barrier had perplexed my new associates.But go on.”
“The asteroid was flung into that power plant,” Jay Kalam continued. “But not before I had solved its riddle.
The exile,” he explained, “kept a diary in a secret shorthand, which I was able to read.”