An xt called stanley, p.13
An XT Called Stanley, page 13
“There should be some place where men can dominate. I think we can let them have outer space.”
“You can joke. You don’t have to live here. The Council has absolute authority. They pry into our private lives. The privacy laws don’t apply here. The personnel office is deliberately vindictive.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a secretary, Sheila Towers, in the transport office. She was recommended for renewal by everyone in the office and she was turned down for no reason. No reason at all.”
“Were you involved with her?” Karen asked.
“No. John Bruno was. He’s in the transport office. The whole system stinks. This two years and waving the carrot of possible renewal.”
“What are you worried about? Your job isn’t on the line.”
“But the secretaries and the non executives…”
“Well, what do you want? They’re told the facts before they come up, aren’t they? No one’s making them come up here.”
“I know, but it’s still a terrible system.”
“Bob, I’m sorry your friend lost his girl friend. I didn’t do it. Let’s not argue about it.”
“Okay,” I said. We sat there in silence for a few moments.
“Would you be free tomorrow to show me the recycling complex and the dockyards? I’m scheduled to see them at ten.”
“Sure,” I said.
“It’s very kind of you. Also it would be very nice if I could talk with Stanley again.”
“I’ll arrange it.”
“It’s getting late,” Karen said. “And I am a little tired. Thank you for showing me around and I’ll see you tomorrow around nine-thirty?”
“I’ll pick you up here?”
“That’ll be fine.”
As I walked the corridor I was overwhelmed with the sense of my own stupidity as I relived that fantastic scene. I remembered how Karen had looked when she first came out wearing that gorgeous robe, how she had stood there waiting and how I had responded by gulping my drink. Then I had launched into that tirade. That was really brilliant. I must have relived those mo. ments a hundred times that night. I walked the circumference of New Hope on the vacant level, level one, before returning to my apartment.
Why was I so nervous? I kept asking myself. Every time Karen had expected some response from me I had frozen up. But I had tomorrow. Tomorrow I would not repeat my mistakes.
When I got back to my apartment I realized I’d better figure out how to get to the recycling complex and the dockyards. It wouldn’t do to get lost. I planned to stay above ground as much as possible, except we’d have to go underground to cross the rivers. Stanley called.
“You better call Jean,” Stanley said. “She’s upset. Sally’s been suggesting that you’ve gone gaga over Karen Miller.”
“She’s very attractive. By the way do you know how long she’s staying?”
“She’s scheduled to leave on the Monday shuttle.”
I smiled. That meant she would be here three more nights.
“Are you going to see her tomorrow?” Stanley asked.
“I said I’d show her around.”
“But you’re involved with your research. I can find someone to show her around. I’ll arrange it for you.”
“No,” I said sharply. “You stay out of it. I said I’d show her around.”
Stanley looked properly chastened. “Bob,” Stanley began, “am I right in thinking that Karen is a sexy lady?”
“Sexy might be a little too strong a term,” I said. “But she is certainly very attractive.”
“She’s the sort of woman men notice?”
“Definitely.”
“Do you suppose Max was jealous when Karen asked you to take her to the reception and dinner?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a little.”
“Do you think she’s interested in you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes,” Stanley nodded agreement. “She probably just likes to have a young presentable man to show her around.”
“She was willing to go to bed with me.”
“Really!” Stanley said. “You had sex with her?”
“Well, no, it wasn’t a good time.”
“Will tomorrow be a good time?” Stanley asked.
I didn’t say anything. I had already been provoked into saying more than I had intended to.
“Are you going to tell your mother about Karen?”
Stanley’s question caught me by surprise. “What?” I asked.
“You told me that your mother always wanted you to be more of a social success. Don’t you think your mother will be pleased with your involvement with Congresswoman Miller?”
“I don’t know. I doubt she’d object.”
“She doesn’t approve of Jean; surely she’d approve of Karen.”
“It isn’t a question of approving or disapproving. It’s just that my mother thinks I could use some experience.”
“Some experience?”
“You know, some experience with women.”
“Why?”
“Why do you want to get experience at anything?”
“I don’t see how experience with Karen is going to help you with Jean.”
“Stanley, I’ll tell you something quite frankly. I’m very inexperienced. Most men my age have had a lot of experience.”
“But why are you ashamed of it? I know Jean wasn’t ashamed of the fact that she was a virgin. You seemed determined to denigrate yourself and Jean. I can’t understand why. I would think you would be happy but you’re not. What happened?”
“When we went to bed together it didn’t work,” I said.
“The first time you tried to ride a bicycle, did it work?”
“No,” I admitted.
“And when it didn’t work the first time did you immediately rush out and buy a new one? Or in this case, an older one that had been ridden considerably more?”
“No,” I said, smiling.
“Why not let Jean be your teacher?”
I hesitated for a moment.
“Are you afraid of something?” Stanley asked.
“I don’t know if I want to get married.”
“Why not?”
“Jean’s just a secretary.”
“That’s a reason?” Stanley said in amazement.
“I don’t know if I want to give up my freedom.”
“What freedom?” Stanley asked. “Haven’t you already given it up? Tonight was the first time in months that you haven’t had dinner with Jean.
“Would you like Jean to marry someone else?”
“No,” I said.
“Did Jean ever tell you about John Phillips?”
“No.”
“He wanted to marry her. He’s a Harvard graduate from a good family. Jean’s parents were all for it.”
“What happened?”
“Jean wasn’t all for it. She left. I think that he’s the real reason she came to New Hope.”
“Really.”
“You say Jean’s just a secretary, but haven’t you noticed she doesn’t feel inferior because of it?”
I nodded. I had noticed it. Jean never paid much attention to social status. She would take as much time and trouble over a newly arriving lab assistant as a prominent scientist. And she was perfectly capable of telling anyone where to get off.
“Jean values herself. Why don’t you?”
“I do.”
“But you’ve done more to bring down her self-esteem than anyone else.”
At this point there was a beep indicating that I had an incoming call. The symbol on the view screen indicated it was a call from Earth. “I’ve got to go,” I said. “I have another call.”
It was Oscar Robinson, who had been a fellow student at Harvard. He called to tell me that our thesis advisor, Dr. Sara Morse, had committed suicide. I was shocked. Oscar had accepted the responsibility of assembling reminiscences of Dr. Morse. He wanted a short note of my impressions and memories.
“Just do it right now, tonight. Just a few sentences. Okay?” Oscar asked.
“All night,” I agreed.
“Tonight,” Oscar repeated.
“All right,” I agreed again.
Oscar knew me very well. I remember once when I had been fretting over writing some student evaluations he came in and picked up the forms. He read off the first student’s name.
“What do you think, in three words?” he asked.
“Sloppy but knows what’s going on,” I answered.
“Has a firm grasp of the material but needs to pay more attention to detail,” Oscar typed. “Next,” he said.
In ten minutes all the evaluations were written. “See,” he said, “just put your head down and run right through it. Besides, nobody ever reads these things anyway.”
I liked Oscar very much.
I certainly wasn’t anxious to write my reminiscences of Dr. Morse, but Oscar’s lesson wasn’t lost on me. When I was through it was too late to call Jean. I fell asleep on the bed with my clothes on. I had a strange dream. I found myself on a huge grass-covered plain that seemed endless. There were groups of people standing around talking almost like a cocktail party. I didn’t recognize anyone. Then I noticed Dr. Sara Morse. She looked sad and was standing with a group of people I didn’t know. A man came up to me and asked me who I was. I was about to answer when I saw Jean. She was dressed in a white robe of dazzling brightness. She was so radiant that she stood out clearly from the group of people she was talking to. I called out to her and started running toward her. She looked in my direction but either she didn’t see me or she didn’t recognize me.
“Jean,” I called out. “Don’t you know me?”
I woke up in a sweat.
The next morning I met Karen Miller at her apartment. “Have you had breakfast?” I asked.
“Yes, I got a cup of coffee. You know it’s really dreadful.”
“Well, at least you don’t know how it’s made.”
“I didn’t know Stanley could call people,” Karen said.
“Did he call you?”
“Yes, last night and this morning. He knows a lot of people.”
“Well, he’s limited to New Hope.”
“Do you think this is wise? He’s from an alien civilization. He could do damage. What protective measures have you taken?”
“We record the calls. We have a complete log of all his calls both in and out.”
“Who’s keeping track of them?”
“I am.”
“Do you have time to go over all his calls?”
“Well, no.”
“It seems to me you’re being pretty lax about this. Has the Federal Security Agency been kept abreast of Stanley’s involvement in New Hope?”
“I’m sure Max has told them.” I was getting nervous. I knew Max hadn’t told them.
“I think the Committee on Extraterrestrial Resources should review this matter.”
“Look, this is secret. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Now, Bob, don’t get excited. I promise I won’t involve you. I’m just glad I found out about it.”
Suddenly I wasn’t the least bit glad.
At the recycling center Mr. Ford showed us around, starting with the air laundry. Most of the rooms and all of the bathrooms in New Hope have ventilators into which air is constantly drawn. This air is pulled into a system of ducts of larger and larger size until hall-sized ducts deliver it to a sphere half a kilometer in diameter. Here the air is exposed to dazzling sunlight. The combination of heat, ultraviolet and ozone, oxidizes the unpleasant odors. Before the air is returned to the center of New Hope it is cooled and passed through a network of tunnels lined with sodium bicarbonate.
One of the minor annoyances of New Hope is that the air is dry. This is to avoid condensation in the cold sections below level one. Most people program their showers to finish with a shot of skin moisturizers.
After the air laundry we saw the electrolysis section where water was separated into hydrogen and oxygen. The hydrogen was piped directly to storage tanks out in space where there was no danger of explosion. Some of the hydrogen and oxygen was used for rocket fuel for the Escorts and space buses. Most of the oxygen was released into New Hope’s atmosphere to replace the oxygen used up by the inhabitants. Periodically hydrogen along with carbon dioxide which had been frozen out of New Hope’s atmosphere was taken to the farming satellites where the hydrogen was burned with the excess oxygen produced by the growing plants. Mr. Ford explained the rather involved procedures used to keep the oxygen, carbon dioxide in balance between New Hope and the farming satellites.
In a closed system there’s no problem with the oxygen, carbon dioxide balance. When food is burned in your body you take in oxygen and produce water and carbon dioxide. When a plant produces food it combines carbon dioxide and water to create food and free oxygen. If you live with the plants you eat there’s no problem, but if the plants are somewhere else something’s got to be done. In theory it’s quite simple but in practice it’s fairly complicated, especially when you include the nitrogen and mineral balances. Mr. Ford understood it all too well. I was struggling to follow his explanations and following long trains of sequential thought were very much a part of my work.
“I see,” I said, as much to convince myself as Mr. Ford. “I have a question though. Why don’t they use the hydrogen they take back to the farming satellites to run farming machinery? It seems a shame to waste all that free energy.”
“Too dangerous,” Mr. Ford said.
“What do you mean? Cars are perfectly safe.”
“An explosion in space is a little more serious than one on Earth.”
I had to admit that Mr. Ford had a point. I understood why hydrogen was burned in containers outside the farming satellites even though it was a waste of energy. Besides, energy in space is very cheap.
Next we saw the water recycling section. Heavily soiled water from New Hope was first filtered through lunar soil to remove the solid wastes. These solid wastes were dried and periodically taken to the farming satellites. After filtering, the water was combined with the slightly soiled water from showers and sinks. This water was distilled for reuse. Huge solar mirrors collected sunlight to boil the water. The steam drove two of the three of New Hope’s generators, before being condensed in the gigantic radiators north of New Hope. The generators provided New Hope with electric power. Usually two were running with one idle. In a pinch New Hope could run on the output of one generator.
Mr. Ford wanted Karen to get to the dockyard by eleven twenty, when a transport from a farming satellite was scheduled to arrive. He drove us to the South End in an electric car to an observation port where we could see the transport in the process of docking. The dockyard was located at the central axis of New Hope where there is no gravity. Before the ship could dock it had to match its rate of spin to that of New Hope. The process seemed to take an unnecessarily long time.
“If we allowed any sloppiness, New Hope could develop a wobble and the resulting strains could cause problems,” Mr. Ford explained.
Mr. Ford and Karen got involved in a discussion of the politics of farming. If there were technical problems with keeping the oxygen, carbon dioxide, fixed nitrogen and minerals balanced between New Hope and the farming satellites, these were trivial compared with the political problems. The farming satellites were not under the jurisdiction of the New Hope Council. They were financially backed by the oil companies. For the most part they were run by families and communes that considered themselves to be the “new pioneers.” It seemed that every other week we were reminded on the New Hope News of what the farmers were doing to us.
“It’s really a very inefficient system,” Ford complained to Congresswoman Miller. “New Hope was originally supposed to be self-sufficient. We weren’t supposed to have to bargain with these farmers for our food. It would be much more efficient to have the farming satellites run by the Council.”
“We support free enterprise, even in space,” Karen said.
“We wouldn’t have beer if the Council were running things,” I interjected.
“It’s not right,” Ford insisted. “These farmers take advantage of our life-support systems and the cheap power we’ve had to create and then they blackmail us.”
While Miller and Ford debated the politics of farming I witnessed a ship being fired off by magnetic tunnel. Out in space in the middle of my field of view there was a small three-passenger ship sitting there. Suddenly my eye was caught by the sight of a very long metal structure coming in from the right. It was an open structure like the girders of a tall building before the walls are put up. It must have been two kilometers long. For a moment it looked like the ship would be smashed to smithereens, but the tunnel was perfectly aligned so the ship was swallowed up and passed down its length without hitting the sides. As the ship was accelerated the tunnel was driven back in the opposite direction. The ship passed the length of the tunnel twice. Once as it was swallowed up by the oncoming tunnel and a second time as the tunnel threw the ship back out. The whole process took about half a minute. When it was all over the ship was practically out of sight and the tunnel was flying to the right from whence it had come. The tunnel would have to fire loads of moon rock to bring itself back to New Hope.
“That was really incredible,” I said when Ford and Miller were silent.
“What?” Karen asked.
“A ship was just fired off.”
“Where?” she asked.
It was too late. The magnetic tunnel had disappeared off the right side of the view and the ship was just a small glint against the black sky. It was as though it had never happened.
It was time to get back to the Institute. Karen was going to talk with some of the ecologists. The message tree at the main door told me there was someone waiting to see Congresswoman Miller at the Computer Science Office. When we came into the office Jean turned to introduce a man in a blue uniform but apparently no introductions were necessary. Karen ran toward him and they embraced.
“Evan,” Karen said with elation, “what are you doing here?”
I was pretty sure that Evan wasn’t her brother.
“My ship’s docked here; I’m here to see the General. When I heard you were here I just had to see you.”
