First part and backstory: https://poal.co/s/scifi/788197 > “Chinese astronomers,” said Horace Still, "observed the supernova in July of the year 1054. It has long since faded. In this drawer,“ Horace Still pointed to a desk next to an open, circular window, ”you will find a photograph from the Mount Palomar Observatory. It shows you the structure that remains of our sun. Later, when you leave, Gaston, you can take the photo with you. But now back to the Taurus!" Horace Still turned off the screen. I looked at Sisa, who was sitting on the edge of the lab table smoking a cigarette. “The last one!” she said and nodded to me. I felt strange, but Horace Still continued: "When we plunged into our life element on Earth, a fisherman named Etienne Tantin pulled us out again. And that's how we came into contact with humans. While Etienne admired Horace Still on television, I emerged from the capsule and, with the help of a small information collector and a replicator, formed myself in the image of Horace Still and the body of Etienne!" I looked at Sisa and thought of the company in the casino. “And Mademoiselle and the others down in the casino?” I asked breathlessly. “I modeled some of us after famous earthly role models. But these doppelgangers stayed in the Camargue. It was a kind of vacation for them — after the long journey. No one but you saw them. Most of us, however, got to know the new world. And what's the best way to get to know Earth and its people?” Horace Still answered his own question. “In a car, of course. We equipped the Taurus cars, which were built for this purpose, with a tiny brain — our brains — stored in the metal core of the small tin ball. Each brain was connected to the organs of its car by the finest nerve strands. Tiny television lenses and microphones in the bodywork created contact with the environment. A beautiful world. Unfortunately, we have to leave it again!” “But why? Why don't you stay here?” “We can't whizz around as automobiles forever!” smiled Horace Still. Sisa carelessly threw the rest of her cigarette out the open window. “Our way of life,” she said, “which we could of course reproduce and in which alone life is worth living for us, is different from yours. If you saw me in my true form, I'm afraid you would be disgusted by me!” “Me? Of you, mademoiselle? Never!” I exclaimed. “But isn't there any place on Earth where you would like to live?” “Yes. Many places, in fact. Seven, to be precise. We have obtained samples. We would feel at home if it weren't for the humans — and the fishing boats!” smiled Sisa. At that moment, a bell rang. The rattling sound of an elevator came from the laboratory wall opposite me. Sisa jumped down from her seat, opened a small door in the wall, and took a small glass bowl filled with tiny metal cubes out of the opening. She handed it to Horace Still, who added the cubes to those in the small container. “That's the company from the casino!” explained Horace Still. With a persistent pink haze in my brain, I accepted everything without objection and watched Sisa take the hood ornament of my Taurus car out of her skirt pocket, open the ball, take out another tiny cube, and add it to the others in the container. So that was Frims, the general music director! “And now it's your turn, Sisa!” said Horace Still, then turning to me: “Are you feeling brave, Gaston?” I nodded. Of course I was feeling brave with the mixed drink in my stomach, but what was going to happen? It all happened very quickly. Horace Still slipped cuffs onto Sisa's wrists, with wires running to the replicator and the information collector. “Farewell, Gaston!” said Sisa, and suddenly the girl vanished into thin air—or, more precisely, into hydrogen, nitrogen, and oxygen atoms, if I understood everything correctly. Immediately afterwards, a tiny metal cube fell out of the replicator, which Horace Still deftly caught, put into the container, and then sealed. Despite the pink fog in my brain, I must have turned very pale, because Horace Still looked at me almost pityingly and said, "You wanted to know everything, Gaston! The others transformed back downstairs in another replicator, and the automatic elevator brought the storage cubes upstairs. But if Mademoiselle Sisa's sudden departure pains you greatly, then there is a memento for you. Downstairs in the hall behind the door to the Pacific Ocean, you will find Sisa's true form on a table next to the large glass container. And now, my friend, we too must say goodbye. Or do you have any more questions?" I shook my head. I suffered greatly from Sisa's disappearance. But then something occurred to me. “Where are you from, Monsieur Pilot?” "I remind you of the photograph over there in the drawer. When I am gone, you may take it out, and you will find the answer to your question. Do not be surprised — even if you no longer feel the effects of our medicine. It was coincidence — I mean the bulls of the Camargue, after which we named the Taurus, and our real shape, which resembles a formation in your sky! And if you should see Etienne again, give him my regards and tell him he can now build his fish canning factory!" As he spoke, Horace Still opened a safe that contained nothing but a large sphere of sea-green glass — or whatever material it was made of. He placed the sphere on the lab table, opened a kind of hatch in the sphere, and pushed the container inside. Then Horace Still slipped the cuffs over his wrists, connected the replicator to all the other machines in the lab, and pressed a lever on the information collector. In an instant, everything dissolved into thin air, or whatever. Only the sea-green sphere remained on the table. I stared at the sphere and suddenly felt a rush of fear. Across the lab table, a small machine with strange claws rattled toward the sphere and jumped into the hatch, which immediately closed. So that was the pilot! The sphere lifted silently off the table—as if it had become weightless—and shot out the open window. Goodbye, Sisa! Goodbye, Horace Still! Goodbye? Oh, to hell with it! I rushed downstairs, stopped halfway, and raced back to the lab. I threw open the desk drawer. It was empty except for a large color photograph. I am an amateur astronomer, as I already mentioned, my listeners! What did I see? The well-known nebula M 1 with its peculiar shape and red filaments, which get their color from the emission of the red hydrogen line H Alpha! The Crab Nebula in the constellation of Taurus! The remnant of the supernova that Chinese astronomers had observed over nine hundred years ago! The fog in my brain had suddenly disappeared! But who were the inhabitants of one of the planets of this sun that exploded over five thousand years ago? What did they look like? Like what? I raced down the spiral staircase again and threw open the door with the map of the Pacific Ocean in the hall. Almost the entire room behind it was taken up by a huge glass container. In the seawater behind the thick pane, things like houses, streets, and other structures made of a material like thin plastic film were moving. Sea creatures? Were Sisa and Horace Still and the others sea creatures? My gaze fell on the small table next to the water tank, where Sisa's real body should have been lying. There it was, indeed! A crab! Or rather, the shell of a crab! Cancer pagurus, with pairs of thoracic legs, abdominal legs, and jumping legs! So those were the coincidences the pilot had spoken of — crabs from the Crab Nebula in Taurus! But are there such things as coincidences, my listeners? Where in the labyrinth of the galaxy might they be today — the pilot, the container, and the capsule? All the best, you crabs! The radio director stared ahead and stacked the pages of the manuscript back on top of each other. Should he broadcast the program, or should he not? Suddenly, Sisa's shell crumbled to dust before his eyes. A gust of wind from the window swept the dust off the table. No one ever heard of a program called “The Secret of the Bull.” [Symbolic Space Crab](https://poal.co/static/images/66461e9305706381.png)