Текст книги "Imperial Earth"

Автор книги: Arthur Charles Clarke

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The interruption should have destroyed the magic, yet it did not. Nothing could detract from the skill and courage of the pioneers; and they would have been happy to know that, where they had first ventured, thousands could now travel in safety and in comfort.

That, in the long run, was what History was all about.

BUDGET

“Today I walked at least three kilometers, and was on my feet for over two hours. I’m beginning to feel that life is possible on Earth…. “But I must be careful not to overdo it, and I’m still using glide ways and transporters most of the time. This means that I’ve not visited the White

House or the Capitol, which can only be entered on foot. But I’ve been to the Museum of Technology and the National Gallery of Art. They have transport cubicles that you can program yourself, so there’s no need to waste time on exhibits that don’t interest you. Of course, I could stay in the hotel and take a holovision. tour anywhere, but that would be ridiculous. I could do that any time, back at home…. “I must remember that I’ll be replaying these words twenty, fifty, maybe a hundred years from now, when this visit to Earth is a dim memory. So it may be a good idea to describe a typical day-if there is such a thing!-here at the Centennial Hotel. “I wake up at six-thirty and

listen to the radio 130 news summary while I’m having my bath. Then I dial the Comsole for any messages that have arrived during the night-usually there are half a dozen.

Not many people know I’m here yet, but I’ve had quite a few offers of hospitality and have been asked to speak to a number of social and cultural groups. I suspect Ambassador Farrell is behind most of these.

“Then I set the news abstractor to print out any~-thing that’s happened in my area of interest, and scan the result. That doesn’t take long, since I give TITAN as the main heading, and we’re never in the news. If I want to know what’s happening at home, I call the Embassy and get the daily dispatch. Usually that makes me rather homesick, especially when my friends and family are being reported. Which is most days … “At seven-fifteen I go down to breakfast. As there are only a dozen guests-the place won’t get crowded until later in June-I have a table to myself. We nod politely at each other, but no one is very sociable at this time in the morning.

“The food and service are excellent, and I’m going to miss both when I get home. Terrans know how to live comfortably-they’ve had enough time to practice-but it was several days before I realized that the hotel was unusual, maybe unique. It’s been set up purely for the duration of the festivities, regardless of expense, just for us VIP guests. Staff has been brought from all over the world-some professional, some voluntary, like those academic clowns who met us when we arrived. (I still see them from time to time, and still can’t understand a word they say. Because I’m darker than they are,

I think they enjoy making a fool of me.)

“For breakfast-in fact, for all my meals-I try to have something new every day, and this has caused problems. I won’t forget my first eggs…. “I asked for them boiled-because that was the first listing-and the waiter said, “How many minutes, sir?” (I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being called ‘sir’ by people who are not trying to insult me.) Of course, I had no idea what to answer, so I said

“Medium rare,” which was a phrase I’d picked up at dinner the night before. The waiter looked at me rather oddly, I thought.

“He came back five minutes later with two eggs sitting in silver cups, and placed them in front of me. I just sat there looking at them; never having seen eggs before, I’d no idea what to do next. And incidentally, they were larger than I’d imagined.

“I’m afraid I might have gone hungry if another guest a couple of tables away hadn’t ordered the same thing. I watched him carefully, and discovered that you start by cutting off the top of the shell with a knife. I made a horrible mess of the first egg, but got it right the second time. Later, I found that they’ll do this in the kitchen, which saves a lot of trouble.

I’ll never ask for eggs this way again, but I’m glad I did it once.

“The taste-though not the texture-was perfectly normal. Our chemists have done a good job here, and I’d never have known that it wasn’t synthetic.

I’ve since discovered that very few Terrans have ever tasted a real egg, and there are only two or three farms that still produce them. Hens are not very interesting animals it appears.

“I should have mentioned the Menu-it’s a most elaborate affair, beautifully printed, and changes every day. I’m keeping a set as a souvenir, though I don’t recognize half the items-or understand many of the instructions. I suspect that some are jokes. What does “No Tipping’ mean? And “Gentlemen are requested to use the cuspidors provided’? What is a cuspidor? And why only gentlemen and not ladies? I must ask George.

“After breakfast I go back to my room and deal with the overnight messages.

Usually I spend the next two or three hours at the Comsole, talking to people, recording data, transferring items from the main memory to my

Minisec, or vice versa.

“Most of this is dull but important; I’m working through a list of contacts that every head of department on Titan has given me. I’m trying to be as tactful as possible, but I’m afraid I’m not going to

be very popular by the time I’ve delivered all these complaints and apologies.

“And I’ve run into something that complicates business on Earth to an incredible extent. I knew about it, but hadn’t realized its full implications. It’s the problem of Time Zones…. “There are some advantages in belonging to a corridor culture. We’re not slaves of the sun, and can set all our clocks to the same time, all, over

Titan. But on Earth!

“There are four time zones-America, Africa, Asia, Oceania-six hours apart.

So when you want to speak to anyone, or make an appointment, you have to know what zone he’s in. And when you move from one zone to another, you have to put your watch ahead—or back-six hours.

“It’s very awkward and confusing, but it was even worse a couple of centuries ago; then there were twenty-four zones, one for every hour of the day! The development of global telecommunications made that situation impossible-not that it’s very satisfactory even now. There’s talk of going over to a single World Time-probably Absolute Ephemeris Time-and igignoring the day-night cycle, just as we do. But the arguments on both sides are nicely balanced, and no one expects a decision in a hurry. After all, it took several hundred years to get the World Calendar adopted, and that was because the Martian and Lunar administrations simply wouldn’t put up with

Earth’s ridiculous months any longer…. “Where was I? Oh, the morning’s business. By noon, I usually feel that I need a break, and I spend half an hour in the swimming pool. At first I did this merely to get away from gravity, but now I enjoy it for its own sake.

I’ve even learned to swim, and feel quite confident in the water. When I get home, IT be a regular visitor to the Oasis pool.

“After that, I go for a quick walk in the hotel grounds. There are more flowers and trees here than I ever imagined, all beautifully kept. It reminds me a little of George’s farm, though on a smaller scale.

But Earth is a dangerous place, and there are things I’d not been warned about. Who would have guessed that there were plants with thorns on them-sharp enough to draw blood? I’m going to make very sure they never take me to any really wild places on this complicated old planet.

“And even here in Washington, not everything is under control. Yesterday, just as I was going for a walk, it started to rain. Rain! In no time, the streets were wet and glistening; they looked so slippery I should have been afraid to walk on them, but from my window I could see people moving about as if nothing had happened. Some of them weren’t even wearing protective clothing…. “After watching for a while, I went down to the lobby and stood under the portico. I had to fight off the bellboys-they tried to get me a car, and couldn’t believe I merely wanted to watch the falling water from a safe place. Eventually I managed to make myself believe that it wasn’t liquid ammonia, and stepped outside for a few seconds, all in the cause of science. Needless to say, I got wet very quickly, and I can’t say I really enjoyed it.

“Around thirteen hundred I go to lunch, usually with someone who wants to talk business or politics, or both. There are some wonderful restaurants here, and the great problem is not to eat too much. I’ve put on a couple of kilos since I arrived…. One of the favorite dining places-I’ve been there several times-is called the Sans Souci, which means “without a care” in Greek or Latin, I’m not sure which. Apparently President Washington himself used to eat there, though I find that hard to believe. One would have thought they’d have had photographs to prove it-stupid!-I keep forgetting “I met my first congressmen in the Sans Souci

Representative Matsukawa of Hawaii, Senator Gro meyko of Alaska. It was a purely social get-together; we had no business to discuss. But they were interested in Titan because they both felt that it had some points in common with their states, now temporarily back in the Union. They’re quite right-Engineer Warren Mackenzie made the same point,

aboard Sirius. To the people who explored the Pacific in canoes, the ocean must have seemed about as large as the Solar System. And the development of Alaska, in. its time, must have been as tough a job as getting a foothold on Titan.

“After lunch I do a little sightseeing, then get back to the hotel and carry on with the day’s business, until dinnertime. By then, I’m too exhausted to think of anything but bed; the very latest I’ve been awake is twenty-one thirty. It’s going to be quite embarrassing if I don’t adapt soon to the local life style. Already I’ve had to turn down several party invitations because I couldn’t afford to miss the sleep. That sort of thing isn’t easy to explain, and I hope I’ve not offended any of the hostesses this city’s famous for.

I “I have accepted one late engagement, because George stressed its importance. This is to speakin person, not holovision-to a group called the

Daughters of the Revolutions. They’re mostly elderly ladies (“Queen dragons-but dears when you get to know them,” George said) and they’re all over the place this Centennial year. Originally they were only concerned with the American Revolution, but later, they became less exclusive. I’m told I’ll meet direct descendants of Lenin and Mao and Balunga. What a pity

Washington never had any children.

I wonder why.

“Because I’ve given priority to my official mission -I’m still working on that damn speech-I’ve had almost no time for personal or family business.

About the only thing I’ve been able to do in this direction is to contact the bank and establish my credentials, so that I can use Malcolm’s accumulated funds. Even if everything works out according to plan and our estimates are correct, the budget will be tight, My big fear is running out of money and having to go to Finance for more of our precious Terran so lars If that happens, the family will be under attack from all quarters, and it won’t be easy to think of a good defense.

“This is one reason why I’ve done no shopping that, and the time factor. I won’t know how much money I’ll have until I’m almost ready to leave! But I have run some of the catalogs through the

Comsole, and they’re fascinating. You could spend a lifetime -and a million so lars a day-sampling the luxuries of Earth. Every conceivable artifact has its tape stored somewhere, waiting to go into a replicator. Since manufacturing costs are essentially zero, I don’t understand why some items are so expensive. The capital costs of the replicators must have been written off decades ago, one would have thought. Despite Colin’s efforts, I don’t really understand Terran economy.

“But I’m learning many things, fast. For example, there are some smart operators around, on the lookout for innocents from space. Yesterday I was going through a display of Persian carpets-antique, not replicated-wondering if I could possibly afford to take a small one back to

Marissa. (I can’t.) This morning there was a message-addressed to me personally, correct room number-from a dealer in Tehran, offering his wares at very special rates. He’s probably quite legitimate, and may have some bargains-but how did he know? I thought Comsole circuits were totally private.

But perhaps this doesn’t apply to some commercial services. Anyway, I didn’t answer.

“Nor have I acknowledged some even more personal messages from various Sex

Clubs. They were very explicit, and I’ve stored them as mementos for my old age. After the carpet episode, I was wondering if any would be tailored to my psych profile, which must be on record somewhere-that would have made me mad. But it was very broad-band stuff, and the artwork was beautiful.

Perhaps when I’m not so busy…”

Duncan stopped talking; he was not quite sure why-and then he began to laugh at his hesitation. Could it be that, despite fairly heroic efforts, the Makenzies were puritanical after all? For he had just

recalled that, only a kilometer or so from this very spot, a President of the United States had got into perfectly terrible trouble with a tape recorder.

But whether it had been a Roosevelt or a Kennedy, he was not quite sure.

DAUGHTERS OF THE REVOLUTIONS

George Washington had been right; they did look like dragons.

Formidable, tight-lipped ladies, few of them were under seventy, and they sported the most astonishing array of hats, in more shapes and sizes than Duncan would have believed possible. On Titan, hats were as rare as wigs, and even less useful. Not that there was any question of utility with most of this headgear; it was obviously designed to impress or intimidate. It certainly intimidated Duncan.

So did the introductions, though he quickly lost track of all the names being thrown at him. Every one of these ladies, it appeared, boasted ancestors who had played some role in the great revolutions that had shaped the modern world. As he shook hands, and listened to the chairperson’s brief comments, he felt that he was being presented with snapshots of history.

Most of the audience, of course, traced its involvement back to the birth of the United States, and he had heard vaguely of such places as Yorktown and Valley Forge. But he could only smile with feigned comprehension when hearing of revered ancestors who had fought in the hills with Castro, or accompanied Mao on the Long March, or shared the sealed train with Lenin, or fallen in the final assault on Cape Town…. At last all the introductions-including his own were

completed. Feeling none too sure of himself, Dun137 can perched on the high chair overlooking his expectant audience.

“Perhaps I should apologize,” he began, “for addressing you from a seated position. But as you know, I’ve spent all my life on a world with only a fraction of Earth’s gravity. Believe me, having five times normal weight isn’t exactly enjoyable! How would you like it if you woke up one morning and found your scales registered–oh-three hundred and fifty kilograms?”

There was a moment of shocked surprise as the audience confronted this startling vision, then a titter ran around the room. Fine, Duncan told himself -I’ve broken the ice. Then he realized that there was an undertone of something besides good-natured amusement in the sound, as if the listeners were laughing not with him, but at him.

He glanced frantically around the audience; then, to his horror, saw that there was a perfectly enormous woman halfway back on the far left. She was the fattest person Duncan had ever seen-and the entire audience seemed to be carefully not looking in her direction.

Well, thought Duncan, I’ve got nothing more to lose. It can only go uphill from here. He plunged into his prepared speech.

“The history of my world goes back little more than halfway to the event we are all celebrating next month. The first manned ship touched down on Titan in 2015-but the first permanent base wasn’t established there until considerably later-2046. Even then, it was only a scientific observation post, with the crews rotating back to Earth every few years. There was no thought, in those days, of a selfcontained colony that might eventually develop its own culture, just as happened on this continent. In any case, the twenty-first century was too busy dealing with Mars and the Moon to have the energy, or the resources, for activities farther afield.”

Could that have been a yawn he spotted there, near the back of the hall?

Surely not so soon! He was being morbidly sensitive; that sea of hats

was getting 138 him down. Most of the faces beneath them seemed to be reasonably attentive…. But how to make these sleek and elegant matrons -not one of whom, probably, had ever been farther than the Moon-understand the harsh realities of his distant world? It was a challenge, and that was something that no Makenzie could ever resist.

“You may wonder why anyone would want to settle down in a place where the temperature never rises above a hundred below zero, where the atmosphere is poisoned by methane and ammonia, and the sun’s so feeble that you can’t detect its heat when it shines full on your face. Well, I won’t pretend that Titan is an atractive tourist resort-though we have some tourists, believe it or not. But it does have certain unique advantages, which is why it’s become important in human affairs.

“First of all, it’s the only place, outside the Earth, where a man can move around on the surface without a full spacesuit. That may surprise your after what I’ve just said about the conditions there! I don’t deny that we need protection, but it’s much less than required on the Moon, or even on

Mars. The atmosphere is so dense it allows us to breathe with simple oxygen masks, though we have to be extremely careful to avoid any leaks. If you’ve ever smelled ammonia, you’ll know why. And lightweight thermosuits can cope with the temperature, except in very bad weather.

“Having an atmosphere-even a poisonous one! makes life easier in dozens of ways. It means that we can use aircraft for long-distance transportation.

It protects us from meteorites-not that there are many out there-and from the temperature extremes that a completely airless world would have. And, most important of all-we’ve got an atmosphere we can burn, and use as a source of energy. “It,s just the opposite of the way things are on Earth. Here, you burn hydrogen compounds, and -the atmosphere supplies the oxygen. On Titan, we have to provide the oxygen, and we burn that in the hydrogen atmosphere. But the final

result is the same-heat and energy, to warm ourselves and drive our vehicles “That hydrogen-rich atmosphere is Titan’s greatest asset, and the reason men settled there in the first place. For without hydrogen, our spaceships cannot operate. Our chemical rockets burn it, and our fusion rockets—er-fuse it. Hydrogen is the key to the Solar System.

“And there are only two places where it’s easily obtainable. One is right here—in the oceans of Earth. But it’s expensive, lifting it out into space against the huge gravity field of your world-the one that’s keeping me pinned to this chair right now.”

Duncan paused hopefully, and got a few encouraging smiles.

“The other place is Titan. It’s a filling station, if you like, halfway to the stars. And because of its low gravity, we can export hydrogen cheaply, to anywhere in the Solar System, using robot tankers carrying up to ten thousand tons. Without us, space travel would be at least four times as expensive as it is now, and interplanetary commerce would be crippled.

“And how we get that hydrogen is interesting. We’ve been called ‘sky miners’ because of the way we take it out of the atmosphere. Specialized aircraft’ramscoops’-fly at high altitude and ever-increasing velocity, collecting hydrogen and liquefying it, then jumping up to orbit when they have a full load. There they rendezvous with the space tankers, deliver the goods, and go back into the atmosphere for more. They stay up for weeks on end, and land only when it’s time for servicing, or a change of crew.”

Better not overdo the technicalities, Duncan told himself. It was a pity, but he’d be wise to omit the most dramatic part of the whole operation-the fall down to Saturn after the robot tanker had escaped from Titan, and the hairpin loop around the giant planet taking advantage of its gravitational field to launch the precious payload to the customer who was waiting one or two years in the future. And he certainly couldn’t do justice to the most spectacular trip in the Solar System-the Saturn sleigh ride as it had been aptly christened by one of

the few men who had 140 raced across the thousands of kilometers of spinning ice that formed the rings.

Duncan bravely resisted these temptations. He had best stick to history and politics-even though, in this case, both were largely by-product of technology.

“One could make a very interesting comparison,” he continued, “between the settlement of Titan and the opening up of this continent, three or four hundred years earlier. I’m sure it took the same kind of pioneering spirit, and in our case we’re lucky because we have films and tapes and cassettes of the whole period. More than that-some of our pioneers are still around, ready to reminisce at the drop of a hat. In fact, quicker than that, because hats drop slowly on Titan….”

That was rather neat, Duncan told himself, though it was undoubtedly inspired by the view in front of him. Why did they wear the damn things indoors? Obviously, they were trying to outdo each other. Most of these creations were not merely useless; they looked as if they would take off in the slightest wind.

A flicker of movement caught Duncan’s eye. I don’t believe it, he thought.

Then he stole another quick glance, hoping his interest would be unobserved.

Either he had taken leave of his senses, which was an acceptable working hypothesis, or there was a live fish swimming around in the third row. It was orbiting in a tiny crystal globe, surrounded by a tasteful. display of corals and seashells, on the head of an intense, middle-aged lady who, unluckily, was staring straight at him with popeyed concentration.

Duncan gulped, gave a sickly smile, and stumbled on. He tried to push to the back of his mind the baffling problem of the fish’s life-support system. If he stopped to worry about that, he would be tripping over his tongue in no time at all. Where was he? Oh, back with the pioneers, difficult though it was to focus on them in this lavishly decorated and slightly overheated room.

“I’m sure many of you have read Professor Prescott’s famous book With Axe and Laser. A Study of 141 Two Frontiers. Though he draws his parallels between America and Mercury, everything that he says is also applicable to Titan.

“As I recall, Prescott argues that Man’s conquest of the wilderness on this planet was -based on three things: the axe, the plow, and fire. He uses these symbolically rather than literally; the axe stands for all tools, the plow for agriculture, and fire for all forms of power generation.

“The axe cut down the forests, shaped homes and furniture. More refined tools manufactured all the other necessities of civilized living, from cups and saucers to aircraft and computers.

“The axe wasn’t much use on the Moon, or Mercury-or Titan. What took its place was the power laser. That was the tool that carved out our homes and, later, cities. And it opened up the mineral resources, buried kilometers down in the rocks.

“Of course, we were luckier than the old pioneers, because we did not have to spend endless man-hours making every single object that we needed. All the artifacts of civilization were already stored in the memories of our replicators. As long as we fed in the raw materials, anything we needed-no matter how complex-would be produced automatically in a matter of seconds, and in any quantity we needed. I know we take the replicator for granted, but it would have seemed like magic to our ancestors.

“As for the plow, that too had no place on our world. But by the twenty-second century, it had no place on yours either; we simply took your food technology to the planets. And on Titan, it was easy, much easier than anywhere else in the Solar System. We have enormous deposits of hydrocarbons-waxes, oils, and so forth. Who knows-perhaps one day we may be feeding Earth!

“Finally, the third item-fire. Occasionally, we still use it, though, as I explained, we have to provide the oxygen. But, again as on Earth, we get all the power we need from nuclear fusion. We’re already heating large areas of Titan and are thinking about major changes to its climate. But as some of these may be be irreversible, we’re

proceeding very cautiously. We don’t want to repeat the mistakes that have been made-elsewhere.”

Duncan nearly said “on Earth,” but tactfully changed gear just in time. He did a swift scan of the audience carefully avoiding the fish in the third row. The ladies still seemed to be with him, though one or two hats were nodding suspiciously.

“Yet despite their sophisticated tools, the first generation of our pioneers probably had as tough a time as your Pilgrim Fathers. What they lacked in hostile Indians was more than made up for by a hostile environment. Deaths by accident were common; anyone who was careless did not live long on Titan in the early days…. “But, slowly and painfully, we managed to convert our first primitive bases, which had no more than the bare necessities for survival, into fairly comfortable towns, then cities … like Meridian, Carbonville, Oasis. True, the largest has a population of only fifty thousand-there are still fewer than a quarter of a million of us on Titan-but, as we all know, quality is more important than quantity.”

There were a few smiles at this strikingly original remark, and Duncan felt encouraged to continue, but then he saw something that almost stopped him dead in his tracks.

The smallest member of his audience was showing obvious signs of distress.

Back there in the third row, that infernal fish was swimming round and round at an acute angle to the rest of the world. Since Duncan had noticed no alteration in the force of gravity, he could only assume that something had happened to its sense of balance. Even as he watched, it flipped over on its side…. Very close at hand, somebody was talking, using Duncan’s voice. Whether the words made any sense, he could not even guess. He was elsewhere, struggling with a problem of life and death.

Should he stop talking, and warn Miss Fishbowl of the impending tragedy of which she was obviously unaware? Perhaps there was still time for her to rush to the nearest animal hospital. That creature might be the

last of its species-the. only one in the world, doomed to extinction owing to his negligence…. Alas, it was too late. With a final convulsive wriggle, the fish turned belly up and floated motionless in its crystal globe. Duncan had never received a more obvious hint. As quickly as possible he brought his peroration to a close. To his astotfishment the applause seemed perfectly genuine.

He hoped he was not mistaken, but in any event he was quite sure of one thing. After this ordeal, speaking to the Congress of the United States would be child’s play.

CALINDY

The package had been delivered to Duncan’s room while he was lecturing.

It was a small, neatly wrapped cylinder, about fifteen centimeters high and ten across, and he could not imagine what it contained.

He hefted it in his hand a few times; it was fairly heavy, but not heavy enough to be metal. When he tapped it, there was merely a dull, un reverberant thud. He abandoned futile speculation and tore open the envelope taped around the cylinder.

Mt. Vernon Farm

Dear Duncan,

Sorry about the delay, but we had a little accident. Charlemagne managed to walk into the hives one night. Luckily-or not, depending on the point of view—our bees don’t sting. However, production was badly affected.

Remembering your reaction last time, Clara and I thought you might like this souvenir of your visit.

Best,

George How kind of them, Duncan told himself. When he got through the wrappings, he found a transparent plastic jar, full of golden liquid. The locking mechanism on the screw-top lid baffled him for a moment it had to be pushed down and tightened before it could be opened-but after a few frustrating minutes he had it off.

The smell was delicious, and once again there was that haunting sense of familiarity. Like a small boy, he could not resist dipping in a finger, then savoring the tip with his tongue.

Some delayed-action circuit was operating: deep in the recesses of memory, the most primitive-and potent-of all senses was opening doors that had been locked for years.

His body remembered before his mind. As he relaxed contentedly in a warm glow of sheer animal lust, everything came back to him.

Honey tasted like Calindy..

Sooner or later, of course, he would have contacted her. But he wanted time to adjust, and to feel as much at home on Earth as he could ever be. So he had told himself; but that was not the only reason.

The logical part of his mind had no wish for him to be sucked back into the whirlpool that had engulfed him as a boy. But in matters of the heart, logic was always defeated. In the long run, it could do no more than say:

“I told you so….” And by then it was too late.

He had known Calindy’s body, but he had been too young to know her love.

Now he was a man-and there was nothing that Karl could do to stop him.

The first task was to locate Calindy. He felt some disappointment that she had not already contacted him, for the news of his arrival had been well publicized. Was she indifferent-even embarrassed? He would take that chance.