Of cruel monsters we might say,

"...and a little child shall lead them."

Prince Lal e'Dorvik dilated his mouth hole, and casually picked at pointy fangs. With great deliberation he inspected the sky: the Maelstrom glittered across fifty degrees, a spiral of silver mist. Its brilliance was dimmed by the gibbous blue planet that hung near the zenith. That blue light flooded through the transparent hull section onto the formal gardens of the Imperial Dorvik flagwagon. The soft brown sand dunes of the gardens were transformed into rolling blue carpets. An occasional ornamental lizard scurried across the sands. Within his vision, Prince Lal could see no less than five shrub-cacti: the excess vegetation made the since almost sickeningly lush. Except for the bluish tinge of the landscape, Lal could almost imagine that he was back at Home in his winter palace.

With feigned nonchalance he turned to look at his companion, Grand General Harl e'Kraft. Prince Lal was thought harsh, in a civilization where the execution of ten thousand soldiers was considered moral-building discipline. Now he moved obliquely toward the subject at hand-with his reputation, he could afford to speak softly. "Is it always night?"

"Yes, Puissance, we keep the wagon oriented with the sun beneath the gardens' horizon. Of course, I could make a 'sunrise.' It would take less than fifteen minutes to turn the wagon..."

"Oh, don't bother," Lal responded smoothly. "I was just wondering what the 'super-sun' looks like." He glanced at the blue-green planet high in the sky. "Isn't it theoretically impossible for a giant star to have a planetary system?"

The young general sniffed warily at the bait. "Well, yes. Stars this size never develop solar systems by condensation. This one was probably formed by the accidental capture of three planets from some other system. Such things must be very rare, but we're bound to come across them eventually."