The Sinners of Erspia

The first problem was to secure the projector station during their absence, though he imagined the villagers would be too polite to enter it uninvited. The portal had no manual locking mechanism on the outside. Instead, as he had ascertained during his first encounter, it responded to a radio code. He and Histrina transferred to the cargo ship. He lifted from the surface of the station, descended until the hatch came in view, and transmitted a brief burst. The hatch obediently closed.

Laedo again touched the controls. The cargo ship ascended into the sky on its manoeuvring engine, quickly traversing the atmosphere. The stars appeared and the tiny sun blazed hard without the softening effect of the air blanket. The moon, which on take-off had been heading for the horizon, lay ahead, glowing in the light of the sun and three quarters gibbous, a mellow, yellow-white globe.

Still using the manoeuvring engine, Laedo flew close to the tiny world. Its atmosphere, visible as a radiant nimbus, appeared to be deeper than the atmospheres of the Erspia worlds themselves, but then he realized that this was an illusion produced by the moon's smaller diameter. The air had to be deep enough to have a breathable density at ground level.

“The Mansion of Heavenly Pleasure,” Histrina breathed, her eyes shining. “I can't wait!"

“I told you not to anticipate things, Histrina,” Laedo rebuked. “Whatever's down there won't be what you expect. Haven't you learned that by now?"

“Oh, you always want to spoil things."

They entered the atmosphere and descended in a shallow dive. A curved landscape showed itself.

Features appeared: low rolling hills, isolated valleys and canyons. Mostly, though, the moon consisted of a level plain, dull yellow in colour. Laedo got the impression it was coated with yellow moss.

Oddly, he saw no open water. No rivers, lakes or seas. Cloud was rare, a few wispy streaks. Neither did he see any growing crops or herds of animals. If there was any sizeable population it did not appear to support itself by farming or hunting.

There was a population, however. The cargo ship came in sight of what could only be described as a set of fabulous palaces. Histrina oohed and aahed

as they circled the complex from the air. Pavilions, domes, classical frontages, all sparkled in the air.

Then Laedo spotted something which had been hidden from him at first, partly by the curvature of the landscape and also because it was concealed in a declivity. It was an enormous long shape lying on its side. Steering so as to hover over the object, Laedo was startled. Though old, battered and dented, its metal skin scored, stained and pitted, the structure was still recognisable.

It was an interstellar passenger liner. But how old? One century? Two? Dropping lower, Laedo managed to read the worn, patchy name on the liner's flank.

IFS Excelsior.

It took him a few moments to remember where he had heard the name. “The Excelsior, ” he murmured.

“Didn't a ship of that name disappear en route , early last century? They never did find her, did they?"

He shook his head in irritation with himself. He was absent-mindedly asking Histrina questions she knew nothing about. She was gazing blankly at the image of the liner. After the wonders she had seen lately it made little impression on her.

Even though, if Laedo was guessing correctly, her ancestors were among the Excelsior 's passengers and crew. A vital question had been answered.

The missing starliner must be the source of Klystar's original human stock.

He was about to move off when a slight movement caught his attention. A figure had emerged from the hulk and was waving frantically up at the cargo ship.

Laedo immediately took his vessel down and landed a short distance away. “Wait here,” he said. “I'm going outside."

In seconds he was standing on the surface of Erspia-5's moon. The air smelled fresh, with a faint tang of lemon. As he had thought, a springy yellow moss was underfoot, but there was no time to examine it more closely. The man from the starliner ran up to him.

“Thank God you've come at last!"

Laedo stared at the stranger, who like himself wore a dark-coloured utility suit. He was stocky, with intense brown eyes, his broad face fringed with black hair and a black spade beard. His demeanour was agitated. It struck Laedo that his cast of face was not at all like that of Erspians generally.

Narrow yellow stripes adorned the shoulders of his suit. A badge of rank, most likely.

“My name's Garo,” he gasped. “I'm the Excelsior's purser. How many others are coming? Is there a warship on the way? Tell me, for God's sake!"

Laedo swallowed. “Calm yourself,” he mumbled. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I'm sorry, but no one else is coming. I am a Class CCC cargo carrier, but I am stranded, like you. My main drive has a cracked transductor."

The other's shoulders sagged. He groaned and turned aside. “Will rescue never come?"