Farthest from the dim red dwarf Ondeste, the ice dwarf Maisuth has attracted no interest beyond a cursory flyby by automated probe in 1874. No significant resources were noted.

I pride myself on being a good judge of character.

The wooden, one-story bungalows were sinking into the ground. We wondered if anyone lived in them. Probably yes, because there were pots of pelargonia in the windows, wrapped in crimped white tissue paper.

This afternoon, that means intensely artichokey custards with a fava bean sauce and skewers of sausage, chicken livers and crusty bread, grilled until deliciously charred.