Arthur Clarke - Imperial Earth

“We’ll be on the ground for about fifteen minutes,” Boss announced. “If you want to stretch your legs, you’re free to do so. But don’t get too far away; we’re not going to wait for stragglers.”

He had scarcely finished when there was a barely perceptible bump, and the whisper of the jets faded away into silence. Almost at once there was a rush to the doors.

The anticlimax was considerable. Wherever they were, it was already night, and all that could be seen was a large shed, lit by flickering oil lamps—oil lamps!—beneath which about twenty people were standing expectantly. The night was so dark and so completely overcast that it was impossible to see beyond the limited range of the lights. The shed was apparently standing in a large field or clearing; Duncan thought he could just see some trees at the limits of his vision. There was no sign of any other form of transportation—either of land or air.

“Any guesses?” said the ubiquitous van Hyatt.

“I haven’t the faintest idea. Remember— everywhere on Earth is new to me.”

“We’re somewhere in the tropics.”

“What makes you think that?” It doesn’t seem particularly warm.”

“It’s so dark . Remember, this is early summer in Washington—twilight lasts all night, and it never gets really dark.”

Duncan was aware of this, somewhere at the back of his mind; but it was theoretical knowledge, which he never would have thought of applying to a practical situation. It was very hard for a resident of Titan to understand all the implications of Earth’s seasons.

“So where do you think we are?” he asked.

“Well, we were airborne about two hours...”

“As long as that? I would have said not much more than one.”

“At least two. So we could be anywhere in Africa, or South America. That is, if we were traveling at full speed. Perhaps the newcomers will have some ideas.”

They turned out to be equally ignorant, having left Los Angeles about two hours earlier in another jet, which had dumped them and taken off again. When he learned this, van Hyatt walked away muttering, “Well, it could still be Africa.... what a pity we can’t see the stars.”

There were few empty seats when the aircraft took off again, and soon after they were airborne Boss announced: “As this will be a long hop, we’ll be dimming the lights shortly so that you can get some sleep.”

This was obviously nonsense, and merely intended to further confuse the now thoroughly disorientated passengers. Nevertheless, Duncan thought it not a bad idea to accept the suggestion. He might need all his physical resources to face whatever ordeals Enigma had in store for him.

He got to sleep more easily than during his first night aboard Sirius . But it was a far from dreamless sleep, and after many improbably adventures on a world that seemed neither Earth nor Titan, he found himself trying to reach Calindy, beckoning to him from a mountaintop. Unfortunately, judging by the gravity, he must have been on the surface of a neutron star.

“Wake up,” said Boss, “we’re there...”

“Out of luck again,” grumbled van Hyatt. “If only I could see a few stars...”

There was no chance of that; the sky was still overcast. Yet it did not seem quite as dark as at the last stop, even though that was several hours earlier.

Van Hyatt agreed, when Duncan pointed this out. “Either we’re overtaking the sun, or we’ve flown all the way back toward tomorrow morning. Let’s see—that would put us somewhere in the Far East.”

“Come along, you sluggards!” shouted Boss. “We’ve got a couple of tons of gear to unload!”

A human chain was quickly formed, and equipment and packages were rapidly shuttled out of the cargo hold. This all had to be carried a hundred meters to avoid the jet blast at takeoff, and his very modest exertions as a porter gave Duncan a chance to examine the landing site.

It was a small, grassy clearing, surround by a high wall of trees. For the first time, Duncan began to have serious qualms. He remembered his first night at Mount Vernon; he could laugh at his fears, now that he realized how tame and harmless everything had been down on the farm. But this appeared primeval jungle, and there were still dangerous wild animals on Earth. Did Enigma really know what it was doing?”

Well, it was too late to back out now. With a deep-throated roar, the jet heaved itself off the grass and started to climb into the sky. Duncan turned his back to the blast, and for a minute was whipped by flying debris. The diapason of power faded away into clouds. They were alone in the forest.

For the next hour, however, no one had time to brood over the precariousness of the situation. There were tents to be erected, a small mobile kitchen to be activated, lights to be strung from poles, portable toilets to be set up... All this was done under the supervision of Boss, with the expert help of four assistants and the enthusiastic but far from expert help of a dozen volunteers. Duncan was not one of these; camping was not a recreation that could be practiced on Titan, and he could best serve by keeping out of the way.

However, he found it fascinating to watch the deployment of all this strange technology. The inflatable beds looked extremely inviting, and the collapsible seats, though liable to live up to their name if carelessly handled, turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. Life in the jungle need not be too rigorous—but Duncan was still worried about wild animals. His imagination was full of confused images of carnivorous beasts—lions, tigers, bears, wolves—against whom the flimsy fabric of the tents appeared very inadequate protection.

He felt much happier when the bonfire was lit. Its cheerful glow seemed far more effective than electricity in dispelling the dangers of the night. To Duncan, being able to feel, smell, and throw logs onto a large open fire was a unique experience, and another rare memory to store for the future. For the first time, he could understand what fire must have meant to early man. Looking around at his companions, he could see that many of them were also discovering their lost past. He was not the only stranger here—wherever ‘here’ might be.

Needless to say, Bill van Hyatt had come up with a theory.

“We’re not too far from the Equator,” he assured Duncan, passing on his way to the fire with an armful of wood. “Probably a couple of thousand meters above sea level, or it would be even warmer. Judging by the distance we must have flown, this could be somewhere in Indonesia.”

“But wouldn’t it be daylight here?” asked Duncan, somewhat uncertainly. He did not want to reveal his ignorance of geographical details, but he had a vague idea that Indonesia was almost as far from Washington as one could get. And the one fact of which they were sure was that they had left late in the afternoon.

“Look at the sky,” said Bill confidently. “It soon will be sunrise. Very quick in the tropics—you know, where the dawn comes up like thunder.”

An hour later, however, there was not the slightest sign of the dawn, but no one except Bill van Hyatt seemed to worry in the least. A loud and happy campfire party was in progress, consuming food and drink in amazing quantities. Almost equally amazing was the speed with which forty perfect strangers could become intimate friends. Duncan would never have recognized this uninhibited and noisy group as Terrans. Though he still felt a little apart from the scene, he enjoyed watching it and wandering round the circle listening to the discussions in progress. He was also surprised to discover how much he could eat; something seemed to have happened to his appetite. And there were some splendid wines—all new to him, of course, so it was necessary to do a great deal of research to discover which he liked best.