by Mary Carmen
· Per-diem pay. The assignment on Octula paid my regular salary and a generous daily allowance for food, shelter, and transportation. A five-year assignment on per-diem pay could put my finances in much better shape and perhaps even allow me to have a hope of early retirement.
· Fewer expenses for clothes. The Americans on Octula wore relatively inexpensive, heavy clothes, not the tailored suits with silk shirts I needed to buy in Pittsburgh for client visits.
The disadvantages were also clear:
· No American culture. No plays, movies, baseball games, television, newspapers, operas, or symphony concerts.
· Less American food. Although the Octulians had extensive greenhouses where vegetables and fruits were grown, the Octula grocery stores did not offer the wide variety of foods I was accustomed to. No tangerines, no wild rice, no walnut oil.
· No sunshine. The Octulian climate was cold at all times. Even though the political infrastructure here had developed plentiful water and energy for the comforts of Americans and others, I could not leave the house without getting very cold.
· No ability to live as a single man without the continual hounding about marriage from Anna and those of her ilk.
I wrote down all these advantages and disadvantages and looked at my lists frequently during the five months.
As time went on, I trained Miss Gasnes to be a good cook. This was not too difficult, even though only the weakest of Octulian intellects were assigned as domestics. That civilization does not allow entities of the lowest intelligence to survive to adulthood, and consequently they cannot reproduce. An Octulian adult of low intelligence is very smart indeed, and Miss Gasnes was quick to learn how to roll out pie dough and sear a rare beef fillet.
Miss Gasnes was about average in height for an Octulian female, just over six feet and just a little shorter than I. However, like some Octulians, Miss Gasnes was very wide. I believe she weighted almost twice as much as I did at that time. She wore the same uniform every day, a short white smock with long sleeves, a pair of baggy blue pants, and moccasin-like slippers.
Like most Octulians, Miss Gasnes usually did not put on a coat or boots to walk outside. These entities were used to the cold and could tolerate everything but the lowest of temperatures. On one day during those first months, I calculated the temperature outside to be about sixty degrees below zero; I would not go out that day, but Miss Gasnes came to the house wearing her lighter coat.
Forget your ideas about hell. When God wants to know how it feels to be too hot, God will send somebody to Mercury. When God wants to know how it feels to be too cold, God will send somebody to Octula.
My First Blizzard
On the day the kickoff meeting was scheduled, I went to my project sponsor early in the morning. He had promised to help with the preparation of the handouts: the agenda, the team list, and the preliminary project plan. We had just started with the translation of the agenda when a senior manager walked into my sponsor’s small private office and shouted several words. I looked up.
“What is the matter?” I asked into the translation machine.
The answer came quickly. “It is a blizzard. We have two hours to get home. Sorry about the kickoff; we’ll have to reschedule.”
I rapidly walked the several blocks to my little house. The winds were howling and I drew the hood of my parka tight around my face. My dark glasses were covered with moisture, and I stopped frequently to wipe them. The sidewalks were nearly invisible under the small stones and dust blowing in from the streets.
At home was a note on the recorder from Miss Gasnes saying she was going to her home and would return when the local police had issued the signal the blizzard was over. The note concluded with the information that my storm cellar was entirely stocked with food and water for a month.
I stayed in the study in a comfortable chair, watching the storm as it approached. After two hours, well beyond the time the police had given everyone to get home, the storm was bending all the decorative plants in my yard to the breaking point. I watched one young bush leave the yard, roots attached, and tumble down the street.
Houses all over Octula were built for this kind of storm. All houses included a storm cellar and excellent insulation. Temperatures of one hundred degrees below zero Fahrenheit were not unknown on Octula.
After an eye-popping five hours watching the winds and the first of the snow, I started to get cold. When I looked at the thermostat in the sitting room, it showed the furnace was on but the room temperature had fallen to just over fifty degrees Fahrenheit. I decided to descend to the storm cellar.
Under the rug in the sitting room was a trap door, with a ladder that descended to a single small room, perhaps ten feet by fifteen feet, with a height of six feet. The room contained two cots, two chairs, a small table, a radio, several lanterns, a closet with a toilet and a sink, and a second closet with shelves of dried foods, canned foods, batteries of various sizes, and bottles of water. A battery-driven heating pot was on the bottom shelf.
I fussed for a bit over the foods but I knew I would not starve. I could heat the canned vegetables and fruits.
I checked the bedclothes and decided to return to my bedroom to fetch the electric blanket and my two parkas. I also picked up several novels from my study, ones that had been borrowed from the ambassador’s house and not read. I also took my own computer to the cellar, the one with all those books I had ignored on the spacecraft.
The radio was my best companion during my seven days in the cellar. The storm news was given every hour on the American station, and I planned my days around these broadcasts.
I contented myself with reading, bundling myself with the parkas and the blankets. Although the electricity remained on, the temperature in the cellar dropped each day. At its lowest point it was just under thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit.
The storm noisily blew outside, and I could hear it from my cellar and over the radio. I stopped leaving the cellar to fetch books and dishes from the house, so I was not able to see the snow piling up outside the windows.
On the seventh day the radio said the police were allowing those with certain types of jobs to leave their homes. By this time the electricity had raised the heat in the cellar, and I was no longer cold. I went up to the sitting room and saw the snow had covered the windows.
The telephone was working, and I called the ambassador. “How can I get the snow off my sidewalk?” I asked.
“Do you have enough food and water for another week?” the ambassador’s deputy asked.
“For at least two more weeks,” I answered.
“We will let you know when your turn comes for the snow crew. It may be the electric systems will melt the snow on your sidewalk before then, though. You don’t have a critical job, and you appear to have plenty of food. Yes?”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “I’m just bored, nothing more.”
“Wish you were here to help me,” the deputy said as he hung up.
For the next week I spent my days in the house and the nights in the cellar. The furnace in the house was able to raise the temperature a few degrees each day, and by the tenth day the temperature in the house was quite comfortable during the daylight hours. I used the oven and I took showers.
By the fifteenth day things were almost back to normal. Miss Gasnes arrived and I was able to schedule a meeting with my sponsor to resume our work.
I will always remember the terrible howling winds and the loneliness of those weeks. Anna’s offer started to look good.
Marriage, Again
A few weeks after the blizzard, the director notified me he wanted me to stay on the job on Octula for five years. I insisted on the same pay and the same per-diem rate, and the director agreed. I also asked for better quarters on Octula, and I was put on a waiting list for a larger house.
Anna visited me regularly, and I finally told her my assignment had been extended. She pressed me for a decision about marriage.
“My father h
as ordered that a large house be built for us,” she told me. “He has sent preliminary specifications to an architect back on Earth, and he has asked the architect to come here to finish the design.”
I was flabbergasted.
“I have only my per-diem allowance while I am here,” I protested. “All my money is being kept on Earth in investments.”
“We are not interested in your money,” Anna said. “My father wants to discuss my dowry with you. In addition, he will continue to give me a salary. There is no problem with money.”
“I do not love you, Anna, and I may need to return to Earth after the five years are over. I can offer you only those five years,” I explained.
“Five years will be enough to sire three children. That is what I want. I want your intelligence and your height in my children’s genetic makeup. You may consider this a request for stud service, if you like.”
The next few weeks are a blur to me now. Anna’s family was determined to have a lavish party to celebrate our union, and my own part was rather small. I did not discuss my upcoming marriage with my clients, and I was careful no mention was made to my director. Anna’s family did not socialize with the Ambassador, so I was fairly certain news of my marriage would not reach Earth.
During this early time on Octula I had little communication with Maude. Finally I wrote to say I would be extending my assignment for five years, but that is all I told her. I insisted she use the part of my salary she received for whatever she needed for herself or the children, and I asked her to write to me if she needed more money. I felt a guiltless sense of freedom as I wrote that last letter. I found my spirits lifted by abandoning her and my family.
Forget everything you know about time. An assignment of five years may occur in the twinkling of an eye or over many eons. God turns Its attention to you when it suits Its purposes.
The Dowry
Anna’s father called at my little house one evening to discuss our financial arrangements.
“I have six children,” he began. “Anna and her four brothers have a half sister back in Iowa, and I have no grandchildren yet.”
“A man with six children has ample opportunity for lots of grandchildren,” I replied.
Len sighed. “Tony, there are problems. Anna’s sister is in a lengthy training program, and my sons are too busy with our business here to return to Earth to find wives. Louella and I are anxious to have you as our son-in-law because Anna seems to be happy with you.”
I was in no mood to talk. I waited for the offer.
“If you are willing to marry Anna,” Len said, “I will leave you one seventh of my estate at my death. I am about twenty years older than you, and I can be expected to live another thirty years, until I am ninety. American males living on Octula now have a life expectancy of three years longer than those living in America.”
“That is very generous, sir,” I agreed. “However, I am unwilling to leave my work at this stage of my career. I need to continue with this important assignment with the government of Octula.”
Len pointed at me. “Nobody is asking you to leave your work. Nobody is asking for a thing other than your fidelity to my daughter.”
“I can guarantee that, sir,” I said. This was an easy vow because there were no other women on Octula. None I had taken an interest in, anyway.
Len shook his head. “If you are ever unfaithful to Anna, I will take matters into my own hands, Tony. Anna is my treasure and I will not allow her to be heartbroken.”
“I understand, sir,” I nodded.
Len showed me his plans for a house, to be built near the house he and Louella occupied. Although Americans could not own land on Octula, they could petition for a long lease, allowing them to build without threat of seizure.
“Anna has asked for separate quarters for each of you. It doesn’t sound like much of a good start for a marriage, but I agreed. Then, I will expand the house after the birth of each child,” he explained.
I looked over the plans. The areas marked “Gentleman’s living quarters” were larger than my little house on Octula but much smaller than my guesthouse in Pittsburgh.
“I would like to have my own quarters expanded after the birth of each child,” I offered. “I would like a separate library, for a start.”
“Agreed.”
There is no reward for good behavior after this life. God does not recognize differences in behavior. God makes assignments and you carry them out.
There is no punishment for bad behavior after this life. If God has assigned you to live a life others see as immoral, God will feel your emotions of pain and humiliation as others attempt to punish you and as you punish yourself. However, God will not punish you later for breaking the laws of man.
My Second Wedding
Almost immediately after Len’s visit the elaborate preparations started for our wedding.
No religious organizations exist on Octula. The Octulians don’t have an interest in worshiping some unseen entity, and no religious denomination from Earth has any interest in ministering to the free spirits and ex-cons who make up the colony of Earthlings on Octula. For these reasons my wedding to Anna was essentially the signing of a contract. This took place around Louella’s dining table.
Several days later, just one month after my thirty-ninth birthday, the week-long party began.
I thought about the small wedding at Bryn Mawr fifteen years earlier when I had married to ensure my success in graduate school. I remembered the complete lack of affection for me from Maude’s parents and my own lack of commitment to Maude.
This celebration was different in every way except for my similar lack of commitment. Len and Louella introduced me to all their friends on Octula, both natives and Earthlings, as if they had been anxiously waiting for my appearance all their lives. I was hugged often and sometimes kissed. The festivities went on for six days, with at least two parties each day, and Louella’s enthusiasm never flagged. Anna smiled graciously at everybody, and Len and Louella drew me into nearly every conversation.
Guests brought presents, and Louella’s housekeeper quickly spirited these away to a spare room. No guest was allowed to see the offering of another.
After each party we worked to clean the house for the next set of guests. The housekeeper and several of her helpers prepared food nonstop.
I counted fourteen cases of champagne from France at the beginning of the week. They were gone by the fourth day, and Louella served a rum punch after that.
Four different groups of Octulian musicians played various types of music, depending on the tastes of each set of guests. Anna liked the dance music of the 2040s and I liked the classical string quartet.
I remembered the small dinner party I had hosted at the best restaurant in Philadelphia after the wedding in Bryn Mawr. Maude’s parents had had very little to say, and they brought no gift. Our fellow graduate students got terribly drunk on the best Scotch and ate and drank twice the value of their gifts. How different things were fifteen years later on Octula.
After all the partygoers had gone home, we surveyed the damage. One Oriental rug was nearly ruined and three sterling silver spoons were missing. The housekeeper announced she would be back to work in two weeks. We aired out the house, cleaned the furniture and the carpets, and put away all the dishes. Then Len, Louella, Anna, and I went to the spare room to open and inventory the gifts.
The guests had been extremely generous. We received sets of china, sterling flatware, and crystal; kitchenware and appliances; bedding and towels; and pieces of art. Even Len was overwhelmed by the quality and the quantity of the gifts. I, for the first time, started to appreciate Len’s standing in the American community on Octula.
A Honeymoon on Octula
Before the wedding parties started, I told my clients on Octula I would be vacationing for two weeks. I received many suggestions for the best places to travel, and I discussed all these with Anna.
As you may have read, Octula is about twic
e the mass of Earth, with a circumference of nearly fifty-five thousand miles. It has only one continent, larger than any land mass on Earth, and that continent is surrounded by seawater. Most of the population lives within a five-thousand-mile-wide circle, just north of the equator. New Philadelphia is in this circle, but many of the vacation sites are west of the circle. The Granite Wall is within the populated circle, but the Fulcan Waterfall, the Ice Steps, and the Crystal Hot Springs are in the west.
Anna wanted to spend the week away from New Philadelphia at the Crystal Hot Springs, so we made plans to travel there.