The vast dome-ceilinged room accommodated the throngs of people without seeming in the least crowded, without being noisy. The constellations that shone from the darkened ceiling changed perceptibly as the planet itself turned round its primary. The mocking lights glittered on hundreds of maskers who danced, drank and sported in the gigantic room. I had never seen such a magnificent crowd, nor felt so dwarfed by a walled structure. Maxil and I paused, by mutual consent, in one of the five soaring archways that gave on to the Hall proper, watching the fantastic revelry. “Where’s Ferrill?” I asked. Maxil shrugged. “It’s not yet tenth hour. He may not come in until the Eclipse.” He pointed to the ceiling where facsimiles of the two satellites closed the gap that separated them and their rendezvous with their sun. “It’s a frightfully noisy night for him. Not like other times. Oh, we had lots of guests but . . .” His inference was directed at quality not quantity. “See that blond girl over there by the second archway.
