"No, but I can begin to guess."

"The fact that we're happy puts a finality to everything, in a sense. As far as what we're going to do with all of you, that's also easily answered. Theophilus can design something, an apparatus or a potion or a weapon, that would make all of you forget everything to the point that you'd believe you'd proven Salari II doesn't exist anymore, that it exploded during our mission, killing us all, or it's become dangerous for humans, or whatever."

"We could use the violet too."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Sessler, but no, you can't. We discovered how because we were desperate. You're not, and we'll make sure that you're not while you're on Salari II. I tell you this so as to avoid futile attempts. It's not a matter of standing on a violet stain and saying 'I want the crown jewels'

and then getting them."

"Very well, you have the secret and you're not going to tell us. I understand. But what are-or what's in-those violet stains?"

"I don't know. I don't know what they are. We did some experiments in the beginning. We dug down, for example, and the violet was still there, not as part of the ground but rather like a reflection.

However, if you stand there and look upward and all around you for the source of those reflections, you find nothing. They stay there, sometimes fluctuating a little; they're there at night as well as when it snows.We don't know what they are or what's in them. I can venture a few guesses. For example: God finally broke apart, and the pieces fell to Salari II. That's a good explanation, except that I, personally, don't like it. Or every world has points from which it's possible-under certain conditions, mind you-to obtain anything, but on Salari II they're more evident. According to this theory, they would exist on Earth, too, though as yet no one's discovered them. Or almost no one, which would explain certain legends. Perhaps those violet things are alive and they are the gods, not us. Or none of this exists"-he stomped his foot on the floor-"and it's humans who change on Salari II, we suffer a type of delirium that makes the world look and feel as if all of our dreams had come true. Maybe this is hell and the violet is our punishment. And so on, without end. Pick whichever one you like best."

"Thanks, but none of those theories quite convinces me."

"Me either. But I don't ask myself questions anymore. And now, Sessler, what kind of man are you?"

"What?"

"Just that, what kind of man are you? Tomorrow or the next day, you'll go see how the rest of the crew of the Luz Dormida Tres are living. What would you have done? How would you be living?"

"Hey, now, listen, Vantedour, that's not fair."

"Why not? You already see how I live, what I wanted and what I asked for."

"Yes. You're a despot, a man who isn't satisfied unless he's at the top of the pyramid."

"No, Dr. Sessler, no. I'm not a feudal lord, I'm a man who lives in a feudal castle. I don't condemn anyone to the rack, I don't confiscate possessions, and I don't cut off heads. I haven't busied myself with creating rival lords or a king with whom to dispute power. I have neither army nor fiefdom. The castle is all."

"And the inhabitants of the castle?"

"They were also born of the violet, of course, and they are as authentic as the cigarette and that razor. I'll tell you something else: they're happy and they feel affection toward me, affection, not adoration, because I conceived them that way. They get old, they get sick, they get hurt if they fall, and they die. But they're satisfied and they like me."

"The women, too?"

Lord Vantedour stood up without saying anything.

"So, not the women?"

"There aren't any women, Sessler. Due to the, shall we say, particular conditions under which something can be obtained from the violet, it's been impossible for any of us to obtain a woman."

"But I've seen them."

"They weren't women. Now, if you'll excuse me-and I hope you won't take me for an inconsiderate host-it's time to go to bed. There's still much to do tomorrow."

At three o'clock in the morning, Dr. Leo Sessler walked out onto the patio of the castle, crossed the bridge, went down the ramp, and began to walk beneath the moons, looking for a violet stain on the ground. Lord Vantedour watched him from the gallery balconies.

"We've found the crew of the Luz Dormida Tres," announced the commander.

"How did they die?" asked young Reidt.

"They didn't die," said Leo Sessler. "They're alive, very alive, healthy, and happy."

"And how are we going to take them with us, sir?" asked the navigation officer. "Five men will be too much extra weight."

"It doesn't look like they want to return," said Leo Sessler.

"They're the lords and masters of Salari II," Savan said, almost shouting. "Each one of them has an entire continent to himself, and they can get whatever they want from those violet things."

"What violet things?"

"Let's not be hasty," said the commander. "Gather the crew together."

The fifteen men got into Theophilus's vehicle, with the master navigator at the controls. They glided across the surface of Salari II.

"Would you prefer to fly?" "Where?"

"Anywhere around here. He never wanders very far."

The men walked around outside, trying their luck with the violet stains.

"There's a bum lying there," said one of the crew members.

Lord Vantedour leaned over the man dressed in green rags. He was barefoot and held a cane in his hand.

"What if he attacks us?" said one of the men with his hand on the butt of his pistol.

"Tell him to stop that," Theophilus said to the commander.

"Kesterren!" Lord Vantedour resorted to shaking him while calling his name. The man in rags opened his eyes.

"We can't talk anymore," he said.

"Kesterren, wake up, we have visitors."

"Visitors from the stars," said the man. "Who are the men from the heavens now?"

"Kesterren! Another expedition has arrived from Earth."

"They're cursed." He closed his eyes once again. "Tell them to go, they're cursed, and you go away, too."

"Listen to me, Kesterren. They want to talk to you."

"Go away."

"They want to tell you something about Earth and they want you to talk to them about Salari II."

"Go away."

He turned over and covered his face with his outstretched arms. Dirt and dry leaves fell from what was left of the green velvet suit.

"Let's go," said Lord Vantedour.

"But Tardon, we can't just leave him in that state. He's too drunk, something could happen to him,"

protested the commander.

"Don't worry."

"He'll die, abandoned like that."

"Not likely," said Theophilus.

The vehicle came to a stop in front of the gray facade of the house on the mountain. The door opened before they had the chance to knock and stayed open until the last man entered. Then it closed again. They walked along an immense, dark, empty corridor, until reaching another door. Theophilus opened it. Behind it was a miserable, windowless room, lit only by lamps hanging from the ceiling. Two very young women were playing cards on the rug. Lord Vantedour approached them. "Greetings," he said.

"She's cheating," said one of the women, looking at him.

"Bad girl," said Lord Vantedour.

"Yes, isn't she? But I still like her. I can forgive her anything."

"I see," he said. "Where can we find Les-Van-Oos?"

"I don't know."

"There's a party somewhere," said the other.

"In the golden room," said the first.

"Where's that?"

"You don't think I'm going to leave her alone, do you? I can't go with you." She thought for a moment. "Go out that door, no, the other one, and when you come across the hunters, ask them."

She went back to playing cards.

"Cheater," Leo Sessler heard before leaving.

Another corridor, just like the first, and corridors like this one and the ones before it branching out at right angles. They arrived at a circular room, with a roof made of glass tiles that let in the light. A group of men were seated around a table, eating.

"Are you the hunters?"

"No." "We're the gladiators," said another.

"Where's Les-Van-Oos?"

"In the golden room."

A man stood up and cleaned his hands on his tunic.

"Come with me."

They wandered through yet more corridors, until they reached the golden room.

The hero, sprawled out on his victory throne, was wearing a laurel crown on his head and absolutely nothing else. He tried to stand up when he saw them come in.

"Ah, my friends, my dear friends."

"Listen, Les-Van-Oos!" Lord Vantedour shouted, spreading his arms.

The music, the screams, and the noise drowned out everything that was being said.

"Wine! More wine for my guests!"

Lord Vantedour and Theophilus approached the throne. Leo Sessler watched them as they spoke, and saw how the hero laughed, slapping the arm of the throne with his hand. The throne was encrusted with gems, its arms, legs and back adorned with marble gargoyles with eyes of precious stones.

"Splendid, just splendid!" howled the hero. "We'll bring in dancers, we'll organize tournaments! Let there be more wine! Listen everyone! Greet the guests and show them what you can do! They come from a miserable world, one without heroes. The only heroes left either exist in legend or are officers in the military."

He stood up and tottered to the center of the room, tripping and almost falling, followed by Theophilus and Lord Vantedour. The noise quieted down, though not entirely. The dresses ceased to flutter and the music was hushed.

"They come from a world where people watch television and eat off plastic tablecloths and put artificial flowers in ceramic vases; where family wages are paid, along with life insurance, and sewer taxes; where there are bank employees and police sergeants and gravediggers." The women laughed.

"Give them wine!" Each man had to accept a cup filled to the brim. "More wine!"

The jugs were tipped once more, overfilling the cups. The fifteen men from Earth said nothing while the wine splashed over their boots and ran onto the floor.

"That's enough, idiots, wait for them to drink first."

Naked and crowned with laurels, his body full of scars and scabs, Les-Van-Oos welcomed them.

"I've seen the fragmented Earth become sterile under the weight of family trees," he recited, "I've gone down to the mines, I've made knives, I've dissolved salt in my mouth, I've had incestuous dreams, I've opened doors with forged keys. Give wine to all the opaque men from Earth, you fools! Can't you see that their cups are empty?"

The cups in the hands of the fifteen men were still full. Leo Sessler thought he would like to take Les-Van-Oos, just as he was, drunk and obscene, to a place where he would be able to keep him talking. But there, in the insane party and with the entire crew of the Nini Paume Uno behind him, what he wanted more than anything was to beat him until he fell unconscious to the marble floor. Les-Van-Oos was a skinny, sore-covered waste, a drooling, naked megalomaniac. If he were to strike him he'd kill him, and the guests would pounce on him and tear him to pieces. Or maybe not. Maybe they would seat him on the victory throne, naked. Meanwhile, Les-Van-Oos had seen and done many things, and was reaching his very limits.

"I've seen rituals and frauds, I've seen entire towns migrate, I've seen cyclones and caves and three-headed calves and retail stores! I've seen sins, I've seen sinners, and I've learned from them! I've seen men eat each other, and I've seen those who got away. I, galley slave!"

It all ended with a hiccup and a sob. They lifted him up and carried him to the throne, where he collapsed and lay panting.

"Leave those cups and let's go," said Lord Vantedour.

Leo Sessler put his down on the floor in the puddle of wine in which he'd been standing.

Les-Van-Oos was screaming for them to take off his crown of laurels because it was burning him, burning his forehead. The gladiators had finished eating and had gone, leaving behind dirty plates and overturned chairs.

The women were still playing cards.

Night had fallen by the time they arrived back at Vantedour.