“His name is Isaiah Moore,” explained Cliff. “He’s from Compton – at least he used to be.”

“Compton,” noted Edmund. “That’s less than an hour away from here. But what do you mean by ‘used to be’?”

“Somehow, six years ago, he managed to leave the planet,” explained Cliff. “He has a small ship called the Excalibur which many suspect him of using to transport exotic contraband – but so far, nobody has been able to prove anything.”

“A specialty smuggler,” grumbled Edmund. “And you are certain that it is he that you saw?”

“Pretty sure,” insisted Cliff. “He seemed local. And if Leraxi is a planet nobody’s supposed to have contact with, wouldn’t that make stuff from there exotic contraband?”

“It would,” affirmed Edmund, “but that is not enough evidence to make it certain that he is in fact the man you met. Even the impression of being local could have been falsified.”

“Could we find if his ship is here?” asked Alex.

“Possibly,” answered Edmund. “If he parked it close enough to the surface without too much shielding – and if it is distinctive enough – it is just a matter of finding out enough information about his ship to know what to look for. On one hand, smugglers tend not to keep their ships exactly as they were off of the assembly line. On the other hand – they generally do know how to hide a ship. Our only hope of finding it, really, is that he might not suspect any need to do so in this instance.”

“Too comfortable,” said Cliff.

“Exactly,” affirmed Edmund. “I will give you instructions how to send me all the information you have found on this Mr. Moore. Once I have received it, I will find what I can about his ship. No doubt he hasn’t published information about all the modifications he has made – but what would be most useful in searching for his ship would surely have been observed in previous sightings.”

“How unique is your ship?” asked Alex.

“My ship is a living organism,” explained Edmund. “There are countless others of the same species – but no two should be exactly alike.”

“So it’s a living organism,” said Cliff, “and a vehicle?”

“Yes,” asserted Edmund, “she is both a living organism and a vehicle. It’s not really that different from the arrangement that many people on Earth have with horses and camels.”

“She?” asked Cliff.

“Yes,” said Edmund. “Her name is Cassandra.”

“Cassandra,” repeated Cliff, as the name sunk in. “So what do you call ships like this?”

“They’re called verapsins,” explained the cat. “Their ancestors were first domesticated around the moons for Morgasi,” he continued, dreamily.

“What is Morgasi?” asked Alex.

“Oh,” said Edmund, his thoughts returning to the present, “that’s a long story – for another time. Do remind me to tell you later – but for now we have other concerns. As soon as Cliff sends me what he has on Mr. Moore, I will find what I can about his ship – and then we can hopefully begin our search.”

* * *

Chagiris was no planet to vacation on – or to live on – or to really go to for just about any reason at all. At least this was true as far as the hostile and stormy surface of the planet was concerned. As a matter of fact, the only thing important at all about this orange-red planet, widely regarded as a waste of the habitable zone of the yellow star it orbited, was its artificial satellites. Among these satellites were some solitary space stations and space buoys. However, many of these satellites were clusters of several space modules each – connected by intricate networks of transport tubes, power conduits, and other sorts of supply lines.

The space modules in these clusters were generally not true space stations – as they were generally not capable of sustaining life for long on their own. Rather, they tended to rely on other modules in their network for this purpose. Even a large module whose design was for the purpose of providing one life-sustaining utility for other modules would still rely on other modules for every utility except for the one it specialized in providing. For example, a module whose purpose was atmospheric reclamation would allow people to breathe in other modules – but for the power that it would need to function, it would depend on another module. As for the module that would provide this power, not only would the workers there rely on the fore-mentioned module for the ability to breathe – but both modules would rely on yet a third for clean water.

In addition to the modules that specialized in providing these and other vital utilities, there were still other modules that functioned as houses, apartment complexes, office complexes, schools, grocery stores, recreation centers, courthouses, and just about anything else a community would need – because that is what these clusters were – communities. These communities, known as “astropoli”, were the villages, towns, and cities of outer space – each with its own layout, peculiarities, and character.

Perhaps the largest city orbiting Chagiris was Orbudel. The city traced its history to over six hundred years prior, when the semi-legendary figure, Delos Raxa, commissioned a space station that would be built in orbit around Chagiris to serve as a trade outpost. The structure that had once been this space station was still there – but it had long since been converted into a museum. Around it had grown a vast and magnificent city.

About a third of a mile beneath (that is, planetward of) the Raxa Sataion Museum was the Garsena Medical Center. As was just about always the case for hospitals in any civilized area, it was prepared to provide immediate attention to just about anyone routed there. However, as was also standard among hospitals in cities such as this, this one had its areas of specialty as well – one of which in the case of this hospital was the treatment of hominoid patients. It was for this reason that on a bed in a room by itself, disturbed only by the occasional care provider who would come to check on him, lay the unconscious Richard Muller.