Alan was searching the heavens. “Isn’t that the Constellation of Draco—the Dragon—?” he asked suddenly. “I think it must be. If so, that star, as you call it, which lies between the Greater Magellanic Cloud and Draco must be Jupiter.”
“Jupiter?”
“Yes. One of Jupiter’s poles lies in the heart of Draco, and the other is close by the Greater Magellanic Clouds.”
Mavis puckered her brows. “Jupiter,” she almost whispered, “the Prince of all the Planets?”
“Yes.”
“We don’t seem to know much about him, do we?” she went on.
“No,” said her husband. “The astronomers seem much more interested in Saturn and Mars.”
“I’ve often thought,” said Alan, “that such a magnificent orb could not have been created just to have shown our old earth light. Its beauty, its grandeur, its magnitude, suggests to us the noblest forms of life.”
“You think it is inhabited?” asked Desmond.
“Why not? Surely its beauty and magnitude alone are a convincing proof of the insignificance of our earth. If Terra was inhabited, populated with many fine races of human beings, possessed of glorious scenery, and full of nature’s wonders, surely if such a puny world as ours was peopled, why should a far finer planet be debarred from possessing and nurturing higher forms of animal life?”