‘And the same design was used, with no significant modification, for a million years. Think about it, acolyte! What an astonishing stasis that is - why, the tool survived even across species boundaries, even when one type of erectus replaced another. But do you know what it was that imposed that stasis, over such an astounding span of time?’

‘Sex?’

‘Exactly! Erectus used the technology, not just as a tool, but as a way of impressing potential mates. Think about it: to find the raw materials you have to show a knowledge of the environment; to make a hand-axe you need to show hand-eye coordination and an ability for abstract thought; to use it you need motor skills. If you can make a hand-axe you’re showing you are a walking, talking expression of a healthy set of genes.

‘But there’s a downside. Once you have picked on the axe as your way of impressing the opposite sex, the design has to freeze. This isn’t a path to innovation! You can make your axes better than the next guy - or bigger, or smaller even - but never different, because you would run the risk of confusing the target of your charms. And that is why the hand-axes didn’t change for a megayear - and that’s why, I’ll wager, the technology of these spiky starships hasn’t changed either for millennia.’

Futurity started to see his point. ‘You’re saying that the Shipbuilders maintain their starships, as - as—’

‘As erectus once made his hand-axes. They do it, not for the utility of the thing itself, but as a display of sexual status. It’s no wonder I couldn’t figure out the function of that superstructure of spines and scoops and nozzles. It has no utility! It has no purpose but showing off for potential mates - but that sexual role has served its purpose and frozen its design.’

Futurity recalled hearing of another case like this - a generation starship called the Mayflower, lost beyond the Galaxy, where the selection pressures of a closed environment had overwhelmed the crew. Evidently it hadn’t been an isolated instance.

As usual Poole seemed delighted to have figured out something new. ‘The Ask Politely is a starship, but it is also a peacock’s tail. How strange it all is.’ He laughed. ‘And it would appal a lot of my old buddies that their dreams of interstellar domination would result in this.’

‘You’re very perceptive, Michael Poole,’ the Captain said with a faint sneer.

‘I always was,’ said Poole. ‘And a fat lot of good it’s done me.’

Futurity turned to the Captain. ‘Is this true?’