O'Brien chuckled. "I can imagine. I felt pretty upset for a while, till the crystals explained."
"The crystals what?"
"They're alive, Steve. The ultimate product of evolution, perhaps. Crystalline life. Perfect machines. They can do almost anything. You saw how one created drinkable water, and—well, look here." He beckoned.
A jewel floated close. From it a jet of flame shot, red and brilliant. O'Brien waved his hand; the gem drifted back to its place.
"They can convert energy into matter, you see. It's logical, when you forget about hide-bound science. All matter's made up of energy. It's simply locked in certain patterns—certain matrixes. But inside the atom—the framework of matter—you've got nothing but energy. These crystals build patterns out of basic energy."
Arnsen shook his head. "I don't see it."
O'Brien's voice grew deeper, stronger. "Long ago—very long ago, and in another galaxy, light-years away, there was a civilization far beyond ours. Deirdre is a child of that race. It was—mighty. It passed through our culture-level and went far beyond. Till machines were no longer needed. Instead, the race made the crystals—super-machines, super-robots, with incredible powers locked in them. They supplied all the needs of Deirdre's race."
"Well?"
"This asteroid doesn't belong to our family of planets. It's from that other system, in the neighboring galaxy. It drifted here by accident, I think. I don't quite know the facts of it. It came under the gravitational pull of a comet, or a wandering planet, and was yanked out into space. Eventually it settled into this orbit. Deirdre didn't care. Her mind isn't like ours. The crystals supplied all her needs—made air, gave her food and water. Everything she desired."
Arnsen said, "How long has this been going on?"