“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.”
“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 have accepted one late engagement, because George stressed its importance. This is to speak—in 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 solars. 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 solars 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 of the 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.
23. Daughters of The Revolutions
George Washington had been right; they did look like dragons. Formidable, tight-lipped ladies, few of them 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 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...