"This is not going to be easy to explain to you, Mr. Justin. To most of the others I merely call it heaven or fairyland—and that suffices. But you and your era are a little too informed for such credulity.
"Belvoir, of course, it not its real name—and actually it isn't a place at all—at least not in your terrestrial meaning of the word. I suppose you'd call it a ship."
"A ship!" Justin exploded. Then, to humor his host, "I suppose you mean some sort of space-ship."
"After a fashion it's a space-ship—but my vessel doesn't actually inhabit your concept of space." Ortine still looked troubled. "Some of your science fiction authors have come closest to it with something they call sub-space."
"I'm afraid I can't follow you there," said Justin.
"Try to think of the vast areas of so-called empty void between the galaxies," Ortine went on patiently. "Try to consider that these areas are no more empty than the areas between the stars visible to you in your telescopes. My universe might be called the other side of the universe—if you can think of the universe as a coin."
"I understand—a little," Justin told him. "Now tell me—why are you here? And why do you want me?"
Ortine flicked ashes on the floor, which immediately absorbed them. He said, "I have been sent here to prevent your planet from destroying itself and probably forcing your sun into nova.
"For while your sun is not a great star it lies in an area correspondent to one of the most congested and thickly settled areas of my universe. It is not supposed to go into the nova stage for some billions of your years. Should it happen in the near future—as it will if my mission is unsuccessful—something like catastrophe will result on the opposite side of the coin."
"How can you be sure it will happen?" Justin asked quietly.