"We astonish."
"Eh?"
Washington repeated the phrase, slowly and carefully.
"Well, I'm astonished. What does it mean?"
"You might say they're very sophisticated entertainers, or impresarios, working on a highly individual basis. You go to them when you're bored, and want novelty. They analyze your psych profile, run it through their computer banks, and come up with a program to fit the time and money you're prepared to invest. They may arrange for you to live at the North Pole, or take up a new profession, or have an exotic love affair, or write a play, or learn three-dimensional chess... And they rely a great deal on the element of surprise you never know what they've planned for you until you're already involved..."
"Suppose you don't like their program, and want to pull out?"
"Apparently, that very seldom happens. They know their job and, moreover, you don't get your money back. But how did you hear about them? I hope you aren't bored!"
Duncan laughed.
"I haven't had time for that luxury. But I've just contacted an old friend who's apparently vice-president of the organization, and she's invited me to join a group for a couple of days. Would you advise it?"
"Frankly, that's difficult to say. How well does she know you?"
"We've not met for fifteen years, since she visited Titan."
"Then whatever program she's invited you to join will be fairly bland and innocuous, especially if it lasts only two days. Your chances of survival are excellent."
"Thank you," said Duncan. "That's all I wanted to know."
The van Hyatts, when he introduced himself to them a little later, were able to fill in a few more details. They were a friendly but rather highly strung couple in late middle age, which was itself some reassurance. Calindy would hardly dump them in the heart of a desert with one canteen of water, or set them climbing Mount Everest. Duncan felt reasonably confident that he could handle whatever was in store for them.
"We've been instructed," said Bill van Hyatt, "to wear old clothes and sturdy boots, and to carry raincoats. It also says here, Hard hats will be provided when necessary. What on Earth is a hard hat?"
The van Hyatts, Duncan decided, had led somewhat sheltered lives.
"A hard hat," he explained, "is a protective helmet of metal or plastic. Miners and construction workers have to wear them."
"That sounds dangerous," said Millie van Hyatt, with obvious relish.
"It sounds like cave-exploring to me. I hate caves."
"Then Enigma won't send you into them. They have your profile, don't they?"
"Yes, but sometimes they decide that what you don't like may be good for you. Shock treatment. Remember what happened to the Mulligans."
Duncan never did discover what happened to the Mulligans, as he thought it best not to intervene in what looked to be escalating into a family quarrel. He made hasty arrangements for a rendezvous at Washington airport next Thursday, signed off, and then sat wondering if her had done the right thing.
It was quite some time before he was suddenly struck by a curious omission on Calindy's part one that both surprised and saddened him.
She had never asked about Karl.
25
Mystery Tour
Only an expert on the history of aeronautics could have dated the vehicle that stood glistening in the late-afternoon light. Like sailing ships, though in less than a tenth of the time, aircraft had reached their technological plateau. Improvements in detail would continue indefinitely, but the era of revolutionary change was long past.
Bill van Hyatt was convinced that this flying machine was at least a hundred years old. "It's powered by rubber bands," he insisted. "When we get inside, there'll be a big windlass and we'll all have to walk round and round, winding it up."
"Thank you, Mr. van Hyatt," said the Enigma representative, who had met them at Washington airport. "That's a very interesting idea. We'll bear it in mind."
There were twenty clients in the party, and they all seemed a little tense and expectant. The only person who was in complete control in more ways than one was the man from Enigma. He was a tough, self-assured character (Just call me Boss you may think of something else later); Duncan would have guessed his age at about fifty. They never discovered his real name, but he had that indefinable air of authority that comes only from years of command; van Hyatt advanced the plausible theory that he was a spaceship captain, grounded for some technical misdemeanor. However, he showed no signs of concealing any secret disgrace.
Boss's first order to his customers was completely unexpected, but set the tone for the whole enterprise.
"I must ask you," he said, "to hand over all watches, radios, and communications devices. You won't need them until you get home."
He held up an admonitory hand at the chorus of protests.
"There's a good reason for this and for any other peculiar requests I may make. Remember, this whole program has been worked out for your benefit. If you won't cooperate, you're only cheating yourselves. Cameras and recorders yes, of course. Use them as much as you like."
There was a general sigh of relief at this. Duncan had noticed that most of his companions were festooned with equipment designed to capture every aspect of their experience. A couple were obviously tapeworms, those particular addicts who went through life accompanied by voice-actuated recorders, so that nothing they said or heard was ever lost. Unless they could do this, Duncan had been told, they did not believe that they had really and truly lived...
Such a backward-looking obsession was typically Terran. Duncan could not imagine anyone on his world trying to encapsulate his whole life so that whenever he wished he could recall any moment of the past. On Titan, it was the future that mattered.
As he walked to the aircraft, carrying his scanty baggage (toilet necessities, a change of underwear, raincoat), Duncan decided that van Hyatt's guess at its age was not too far out. An obvious vertical-lift fusion jet, it probably dated from the turn of the century, and looked as if it had been built to last forever. He guessed that it was designed to operate in the five-thousand-klick range, which meant that it could reach anywhere on Earth in three or four hours. Now he began to understand why all watches had been confiscated; if the flight lasted any length of time, it would be almost impossible to estimate how far they had traveled.
Though the jet was a small one, the score of passengers barely half filled it, and quickly segregated themselves into little groups. Duncan, with some skillful seatsmanship, managed to get away from the van Hyatts. He was beginning to suspect that he would see or certainly hear more than he wanted of them before the adventure was over.
He snuggled down into the luxurious, though slightly worn, upholstery and tried his luck with the video screen. As he had expected, there was no external view, just continuous loops of canned scenery. And the global viddy channels were all blank. There would be no clues here...
There was, however, a bulky package of literature thoughtfully provided by Enigma, and he settled down to read this. It described, in tantalizingly vague detail, the types of service provided by the organization. As far as Duncan could judge, Enigma seemed to combine many of the functions of a travel agency, psychiatrist, nursemaid, procurer, baby-sitter, father confessor, educator, and theatrical impresario. He could understand how Calindy had been attracted to such an enterprise, and was sure that she was very good at her job.
There was a brief announcement from Boss, who had disappeared into the crew quarters.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Please prepare for takeoff. Our flight time will be between one hour and one day, and we shall not be going beyond the orbit of the Moon. Refreshments will be available shortly for those who need them. Thank you."
There was scarcely any change of sound level in the cabin as the jet lifted and began to climb like an elevator. Presently Duncan felt a surge of forward acceleration, but by this time he had already lost al
l sense of direction, despite a deliberate attempt to monitor his inertial-guidance system. There was no way of telling whether they were flying north, south, east or west.
He continued to browse through the Enigma literature, glancing from time to time at the fare provided by the video screen. If this was to be believed, they were flying in rapid succession over a desert, over the open sea, over a range of magnificent mountains, over an ice field, over clouds, over the Moon (or Mercury), and over an apparently endless stretch of flat, cultivated fields, laid out in huge squares. This last display was particularly interesting, for Duncan was quite sure that nothing like it had existed for a couple of hundred years. However, he reluctantly dismissed the theory that Enigma Associates had managed to invent a time machine.
Presently, coffee and light snacks were brought around by the inevitable and unchanging stewardesses. Perhaps an hour later it was amazing how soon one lost the ability to estimate the passage of time when mechanical aids were no longer available they came around again with a second serving. Almost immediately after this, the aircraft started to descend.
"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 drin
k 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.
Presently, singing started, led by an Enigma staff member whose voice and repertoire were so professional that he had obviously been selected for this role. In a very short time, he had the whole group rocking and stomping, and joining in choruses describing events most of which were wholly unfamiliar to Duncan. Some seemed to be tragic, though he judged this by the musical treatment rather than the words. He was not quite sure what fate had befallen Darling Clementine, but that song was crystal clear compared with one recounting the exploits of Waltzing Matilda. He listened for a few minutes in utter bafflement, then drifted away from the circle of firelight into the semidarkness.
"It's perfectly safe to go as far as the trees," Boss had said. "But if you go into them, we can accept no responsibility whatsoever, and the indemnity clause of our contract comes into force."
Duncan would probably not have traveled even as far as this without the encouragement of the wine, but presently he was standing about fifty meters from the edge of the forest, and a considerably greater distance from the songsters. The illumination was roughly that of a cloudy night on Titan, when Saturn was in its crescent phase. Thus he could see general outlines, but no fine detail.
The trees were large and impressive, and he guessed that they were very old. Somehow, he had expected to see the slender palms which were the universal symbol of Earth's tropics but to his disappointment, there was not a palm in sight. The trees were not very different from those at Mount Vernon; then he remembered van Hyatt's suggestion that they might be well above sea level, where the climate was mild.
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