Arthur Clarke - Imperial Earth

“Then I set the news abstractor to print out anything 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 to 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 started 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’ve 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 ignoring 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, I’ll 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 Gromeyko 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.”