“Your world is ready, sir,” lamented the doorman, “but there’s so far not a single person on it. If you would like, I will reprimand The Makers and have them prepare some species.” His red coat shuffled and his brass buttons clanked as he walked next to Silfilas, who turned slowly and faced him in the tall corridor.

A deep voice escaped slowly from under Silfilas’ black beard, like a kindly grandfather. “There will be no need, Killroy, as I planned for this.” Reaching into his velvet pocket, Silfilas slowly extracted a small silver key. “I have an idea. Take this key and give it to Gongaro. He will provide us with the species we need.” Killroy accepted the key from Silfilas’ tanned and tender hands, and swept out of sight, shuffling and clanking like a red and gold gypsy’s caravan.

Silfilas sighed. This was the last world he was going to ever have the chance to create. He put his hand on his balcony door and slid it open sideways. A sweep of night air kissed him kindly as his loafers met the faux-ceramic tile of the balcony. Far below was Nogarla – his third world. The Makers had done a number on this one. From the stark lines of the horizon to the softness of most of the major vegetation (One of The Makers had gone on a velveteen plant binge somewhere along the line), everything on this planet seemed almost perfect. Unlike Toquda. But Silfilas didn’t like to think about Toquda. Footsteps and clanking from the corridor told Silfilas that Killroy had returned.

“Gongargo has agreed to ship quite a large menagerie to your new planet. He seemed to be expecting the call,” Killroy reported from the threshold.

Silfilas smiled. “He was. We’ve been discussing this for some time. It’s a highly specialized group of animals and plants. Genetically engineered to be perfect for this new planet – the ecosystem should be in perfect equibrium.”

“This explains your mysterious trips to Hottao,” commented Killroy, checking his digital pocketwatch. “Shall I begin your dinner? The sunset is nearly complete.” Silfilas was looking forward to retirement, so that he wouldn’t be bothered by Killroy’s insidious attention to time. He would be sad to see the loyal doorman go, of course.

“You are dismissed.” Silfilas turned back toward the green-gold sunset. Although his wise old age covered it well, he was nearly shouting with excitement at the prospect of seeing his fifth and final planet the next day. He turned inward and slid through the balcony door. Perhaps on this new planet, he could forget about Toquda and finally get some rest. Silfalas went into his chamber and creakily sat down on his bed, which Killroy had made just some hours previous. For Silfalas, tomorrow seemed like too far away, even after Silfalas’ ninety-six years of prosperous life. Thinking back, even back to his days as head of the ICC, Silfalas could not remember being this excited.

The next morning, Silfilas was washed and breakfasted before the Nogarla sunrise. Killroy was asleep – it wasn’t six twenty yet. Donning his favorite beetle-blue robes, Silfilas sat in the red leather deck chair and read by the dawning light. At almost exactly six thirty, Killroy appeared behind Silfilas, as Silfilas expected. Much to Killroy’s surprise, Silfilas turned down breakfast, and told Killroy to take the morning off. Killroy excused himself and with a slight clanking noise and a grumble, disappeared into the still-dark mansion. Silfilas wondered if Killroy had anything to do for fun.

Noon came not nearly soon enough for Silfilas, who had been reading a book without taking in a word. Killroy rustled in and announced that they would be departing from the main hangar in fifteen minutes, would Silfilas like a coffee? Within the hour, Silfilas and Killroy were watching stars flicker past the clear-glass windows of Silfalas’ favorite ship, the Vea.

Silfilas was more reserved by now. He was still excited, yes. The Makers had been installing the local life all day, since the atmosphere had arrived the week previous. A thousand-mile-long nebula flipped past the window like a dust devil. “Six minutes until arrival, sir,” droned Killroy from the pilot’s seat.

Silfilas took out his poketwatch and tabbed to the calendar. The planet’s naming ceremony was to be in three days, and he had no idea what to call it. It was his final planet, and Silfilas had no more friends or family after which to name planets. Silfilas chuckled. Planet Killroy. He wasn’t sure that the doorman would appreciate the sentiment. No, there was a better name out there – Silfilas would just have to find it. If only he had a wife, or maybe a son to leave the planet to after his retirement. For the moment, Planet5 would have to do, and Silfilas hoped that he could find something by the time the planet’s naming day arrived. A giant red sun rushed past and gave Killroy a start.

Silfilas had managed to doze off sometime in those last six minutes, as he tended to do on these long spaceflights. It was almost two, CGT, and definitely past lunch. He knew that Killroy was probably fretting over the fact that he had to drive, and had missed a meal. Sure enough, when the brass buttons announced Killroy’s arrival into the main cabin, the manservant apologized profusely and announced that he was going to go back to the kitchen and serve something. Silfilas opened one eye and shook his head. “No, we’ll go see the planet first.”

“I’m afraid, sir, that I misjudged our estimated time of arrival.” Said Killroy, checking his watch with an accusing eye. “We’ve decelerated while the planet is on the other side of its star, and we’re going to have to do a slightly slower orbit to conserve fuel. Because of the gravity, sir. We should arrive in,” (and here he checked his watch again), “about thirty minutes. I’ll have lunch ready in five.”

“Thank you Killroy,” offered Silfilas. The doorman flowed off into the aft chambers and began moving about in the ship’s kitchen. Silfalas turned his attention back to the window, where an enormous gas giant revolved slowly, dark spots whirling and churning as the enormous ephemeral entity spun through nothingness. Silfalas saw a moon traverse across the brightly lit front of Planet5’s giant sister. Was that a ship? Yes – it seemed that the planet was following a rather large ship. Chasing it, more like. Silfalas chuckled to himself and leaned forward to get a closer look out the side portal. Sure enough, a moon seemed to be chasing a rather large ship. He leaned back. It was probably a mining operation. But there was supposed to be nobody else in this system, according to the agents. A lawyer somewhere would be getting an earful from Killroy later today.

Silfalas had finished lunch and lounged about in a rather comfortable fashion for a good twenty minutes before he decided that it had been long enough, and that Killroy was usually not wrong about the time twice in a row. He loafered up to the front cabin, drink in hand, and was stopped by Killroy’s voice, more distraught than usual, presumably talking to someone over the radio, “What do you mean, missing? Planets can’t just go missing! Get me your supervisor.” Silfalas stopped short. Missing? Just as Kilroy said, planets don’t usually grow legs or wings or whatever you need to move around in space and decide to go for a stroll. Perhaps The Makers had made off with it! Those buggers – he knew they weren’t to be trusted. Silfalas has poured a good chunk of his fortune into this planet, and he poured a good chunk of his drink down his front as Killroy burst out of the titanium doors that led to the deck. “Sir, your planet, is, er, missing. I’ve been in contact with the makers and they seem legitimately distraught. Apparently it disappeared just moments before we arrived. Gongaro’s menagerie was just delivered, although I know for a fact that Gongaro does not have the resources to move a planet. This is someone with a lot of money, a lot of manpower, and a lot of fuel. Would you like a new robe, sir?”

“Thank you, Killroy,” managed a still stunned Silfalas, “I’m not sure I trust The Makers yet – they certainly have the ability to make off with a planet.” Killroy arrived back in the room with a fresh, although quite yellow, robe for Silfalas. Silfalas continued, “I think I’m going to, well…, no, I don’t quite know what I’m going to do about this.” Silfalas turned back to the window where the orange glow of the gas giant was still visible just off to the right. A buzzer went off on the deck, and Killroy bowed out of the room, shutting the titanium doors.

It was only when Silfalas was halfway down the deck on his way back to his corridor that he realized that the 'moon' that he had seen being dragged away was in fact his beloved Planet5. There was no doubt in his mind - the ship was definitely one of The Makers' Planetmovers, and the planet going after it could be none other than Silfalas'. With a drink-covered robe, Silfalas stormed back into the cabin. He picked up the phone and handed it to Killroy. He told Killroy to call The Makers and report any missing Planetmovers.