A REASONABLE WORLD

by Damon Knight

  They both got to the bathroom and used the vacuum toilet okay, or at least Harry did. Jolene came back from there with her face set, muttering, “I’ll never do this again.”

  Then the Captain’s voice said, “Folks, if you want to get a look at Star Towers, there’s a telescopic view on channel thirteen now.”

  They turned it on, and saw a little white stick with a knob at both ends, slowly turning against blackness. A dumbbell, the brochures had called it, but if it was a dumbbell it would have to be twenty yards long. Something almost too thin to see was sticking out of both knobs, and there was another bulge in the middle. Then the view changed to the Earth, like a blue-and-white beachball. Then Star Towers again.

  The Captain came down the aisle with a frick, frick of velcro. He was a handsome young man with a beefy jaw, and he knelt by Jolene’s couch. “Feeling better, folks?”

  “I’ll be glad when I get some weight back!” said Jolene. “I never thought I’d say that!”

  “Why, ma’am, I wouldn’t say you needed to lose an ounce.”

  “How big is this L-Five thing, anyhow?” Harry asked.

  “The arm is a little over forty-seven hundred feet long, Mr. Conlon, and the two spheres are two hundred forty feet in diameter.”

  “Two hundred forty? It looked a lot bigger than that in the brochures.”

  “Well, in fact, it really is bigger inside than outside. They don’t call it L-Five, by the way.”

  “No, why not?”

  “That was the name of the place they originally thought they were going to put the habitat—one of the Lagrangian points. Later they found out this orbit was better, but the name stuck.”

  “So what do you call this orbit?”

  “Well, the technical term is a three-one resonant orbit, so we call it Toro. Pretty cute, huh?” He turned to Jolene. “We’ll be docking real soon, and then you’ll feel better, Miz Conlon. That’s a promise.” He grinned and fricked away down the aisle.

  “I wish he wouldn’t do that,” Jolene said in an undertone. “Why doesn’t he stay up there and fly the plane?”

  “It isn’t a plane.”

  “Well, you know what I mean.” She put her headphones on and channel-hopped until she found a holo she hadn’t seen. Her mouth was set in a way he recognized. Christ, she had better feel better, or this trip would be half a megabuck down the toilet.

  They watched on the holos as the white dumbbell drifted closer until it was so enormous that the ends went out of sight. They were moving toward the middle, where there was a cylindrical bulge and a cluster of antennas and things. The engines fired and stopped, fired and stopped. There was a barely perceptible jar, then a gentle rotation.

  Cabin attendants rigged a guideline up the aisle and helped the passengers along it. Other guidelines led from the exit along a velcro path that curved down, then up, and eventually brought them to a big blue cylinder, like a metal cake pan sticking down from the ceiling. They got in through the open door, about fifty of them, walked up the side, and attendants velcroed their feet to the ceiling. Harry couldn’t tell which way was up anymore. The attendants handed them all barf bags and got out, the door closed, and the cylinder started moving. Then there was no doubt about up and down—they were hanging from the ceiling—but after about a minute the whole cylinder seemed to swing around right-side up. A few people were retching again. After another minute the car sighed to rest; a door opened in the side. Then a glassed-in walkway, through which they could see buildings and shrubbery below, and another elevator.

  The ground level was beautifully landscaped, with a lot of flowers and shrubs, but it certainly was smaller than he had expected. The brochures had made it look like a small-town park; it was really more like the lobby of a large hotel. Overhead, cantilevered sections stuck out, level after level, so that the open space was widest at the bottom and narrowest at the top. A tall window curved up one side, and Harry thought he could glimpse another set of buildings through the sunlight that was streaming in. Maybe there was another section over there, but he didn’t see how that could be.

  A little open-topped robot bus took them across to their hotel. The air was cool and fresh, with pine and flower scents in it. In the lobby there was a slowly rotating holo of the Earth, with numbers that showed what time it was in all the important places. A sign at the desk said: STAR TOWERS, YOUR VACATION WONDERLAND. TEMPERATURE TODAY: 72°F, 22°C. GRAVITY AT THIS LEVEL: 89% EARTH NORMAL. HAVE A HAPPY!

  A computer signed them in at the desk; then a robot bellman came to conduct them to their room. Harry looked at him curiously; he had never seen one before, except once from a distance in a fancy hotel. The bellman’s body was off-white plastic with inlaid brass buttons; his hands were lifelike in white gloves. His head was a holo in a tank on his shoulders. The face inside was that of a cheerful-looking young man.

  Their room was on the third floor; it was sparkling clean and beautifully decorated, but pretty damn small. When Harry handed him forty dollars, the bellman looked at it as if he had never seen money before.

  “Son,” Harry said, “I just got here. How much do people usually give you?”

  “A hundred and up, sir,” the young robot said apologetically. “Everything costs more than you’re used to on Star Towers.”

  Harry gave him the hundred. Afterward he looked at the prices on the room-service menu, and saw that the bellman had told the honest truth. Harry had expected to be gouged, had braced himself for it, but two hundred bucks for a bacon and tomato sandwich?

  Then he noticed a sign in the holo that said: GOOD EVENING! THIS IS SPACY, YOUR PERSONAL COMPUTER ATTENDANT. IF YOU WOULD LIKE SOME INFORMATION ABOUT STAR TOWERS, PLEASE SAY “YES.”

  “Okay,” said Harry.

  The holotube lighted up with the image of a young woman’s smiling face. Behind her was a view of the sunlit buildings of Star Towers, with people strolling happily in the park below.

  “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Conlon. Tell me, what would you like to see first—some general information about Star Towers, or the low-gravity cultural events, the casinos, the cabarets, the restaurants?” As she spoke, an animated menu appeared behind her in the tube.

  “Let’s see the casino,” said Jolene. The computer image vanished, and they saw elegant men and women gathered around a roulette table, the men in formal evening wear, the women in long gowns. “Look at that burnout dress!” said Jolene reverently. “Spacy, mirror.”

  The holo obediently turned into a mirror, and Jolene fussed unhappily with her hair. “I’ve got to have my hair done,” she said. “Spacy, will you please make me an appointment?”

  “Certainly. One moment. You’re in luck, Mrs. Conlon—there has been a cancellation at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon Houston time.”

  They went downstairs and walked around the park awhile, looking at the other tourists, then had dinner in the hotel dining room, eight hundred bucks apiece. Jolene got a headache, and they went to bed early. The next day, after breakfast, they went to the light show and the space museum, and they watched some low-gravity ballet on the big holo in the park. There were signs all over in English, French, German, and other languages, some of them not even in regular letters. This place reminded Harry of a theme park without the rides. Except for the lower gravity and the curving wall behind the buildings, there was nothing to tell them they weren’t on Earth—they couldn’t even see the goddamn stars, except in holos that they could have watched without leaving home.

  They spent some time at the pool on the top level, where the sign said gravity 83% EARTH NORMAL, and Harry felt like he had lost about thirty pounds. The most desirable rooms were up here, Harry realized; that was one more thing he hadn’t known when he made the reservations.

  Later, looking around as they crossed the park toward a café visible on the opposite terrace, Harry saw that most of the people here looked rich but few looked happy. There were two or three younger men, flamboyantly dressed, who were smiling too broadly, pr
obably on drugs; the rest seemed glum. A little group of Japanese went by, looking the way Japanese usually did. Then a scowling guy in a turban.

  After they ordered breakfast, Harry pointed to the tall window between two buildings on the other side. “What’s over there?” he asked the robot waiter. “Looks like another space as big as this one.”

  The waiter smiled courteously. “It’s a holo, sir,” he said. “Many people feel more comfortable if they can see for long distances.”

  Lunch, almost the cheapest thing on the menu, was four hundred dollars apiece, and dinner was seven. Counting meals, tips, and entertainment, Harry figured he would be lucky to get out of here for less than ten thousand over and above the cost of the flight and the hotel room.

  That afternoon, while Jolene was at the hairdresser’s, Harry went to a cocktail lounge. He sat at the bar and had a bourbon and water. “Tell me something,” he said to the bartender, a tall young robot with bushy black hair. “Is there anything to do in this place that you couldn’t do at home cheaper?”

  The bartender smiled. “Sir, have you ever heard of sex in free fall?”

  “Yeah. You know, I wondered about that. Is it available?”

  The bartender nodded slowly. “At a price, of course.”

  “Oh, yeah. How much?”

  “Ten thousand for half an hour’s privacy in the docking area. That’s if you bring your own girl.”

  “Girls available too?”

  “Everything’s available.”

  “Just curious—how much for the girl?”

  “That depends, sir. Anywhere from three thousand to twelve or more.”

  “Jesus,” said Harry.

  Later, when he suggested to Jolene that she might like to enjoy a unique experience in space, she said, “Are you serious? After what I went through on that ship, do you think I would go into free fall again one minute sooner than I have to? Grow up, Harry.”

  Then she told him she was having dinner with a woman she had met at the hairdresser’s. Harry grabbed a sandwich in the coffee shop and then went to the casino. He played the slots awhile, won a small pot and ended up only about two hundred down. Encouraged, he went to the blackjack table, where two men and a woman were already playing. The woman was a striking blonde in a paper dress. After a while Harry noticed that the robot dealer was paying her about two hands out of three.

  Harry caught her eye and said, “Hey, if I buy you a drink, will you tell me how you do that?”

  She smiled. “I just play the odds. But you can buy me a drink anyway, lover.”

  They cashed in and went to a booth in the casino lounge. Harry was feeling a pleasant excitement. The blonde, who said her name was Caroline, ordered a Tom Collins from the robot waitress; Harry had bourbon. “Are you a tourist, too,” he asked, “or, uh—”

  “I’m an employee,” she said. “I was on the construction crew that built this place, and they gave us the option of staying on. The other option was they’d take our earnings to pay for passage home. That’s the way it goes. Everybody has to have some kind of a hustle. I come over here every day or two to pick up some extra cash.”

  “Over here?”

  “From the other half of the dumbbell. That’s where most of the employees bunk. It’s not as fancy as this.”

  “Hey, I’d like to see that.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” She sipped her drink. “What you’d like to see is the docking chamber.”

  Harry felt himself flushing. He leaned forward. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Would you be interested?”

  “Sure, lover. You’re heavy or you wouldn’t be here, right?”

  “Not that heavy. How much?”

  She spread out the fingers of both hands on the table. Harry hesitated only a moment. “I haven’t got it in cash,” he said.

  “Not to worry. I take credit cards.”

  “No, uh—”

  “Somebody might see the statement?”

  “Yeah, or— Anyway, I’ll get the cash. Who do I pay for the docking whatchacallit?”

  “I’ll take care of that. What time are you on? Houston, probably.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, late tonight would be the best.”

  “Two o’clock?”

  She took a minicom from her purse, tapped buttons, looked at the readout. “Yes, two is okay. Go up the way you came in, take the elevator. And don’t forget your velcro shoes.”

  Harry went to the bank and got twenty nice new thousand-dollar bills. That night after the cabaret, taking a chance, he made a tentative move on Jolene; as he expected, she had a headache and took a sleeping pill. At half-past one, when she was snoring, he got up and dressed quietly. He found the velcro shoes in the bureau, put them in his pocket, and let himself out into the hall.

  30

  In one way it was crazy, but on the other hand it would be crazier not to spend the money and get something for it, after spending so much for nothing. What if he got sick, though? He didn’t think he would. He bought a pill from a dispenser in the lobby, and hoped for the best.

  No one was around the elevator. He got in by himself, changed his shoes. The shoes stuck to the velcro floor, but he folded the carpet flaps over them the way the attendants had done, just to make sure.

  The street shoes in his pockets made him feel funny, like a kid up to something. He realized that he was having a daydream about running into a cop named Martinez that he hadn’t seen in thirty years, probably dead now. “Up,” he said, and the door closed.

  His weight dropped off to nothing at the midpoint; again the car seemed to roll over, and then his weight came back. After another minute the door sighed open. The velcro ramp he had come in on was gone, and now he could see just how big the chamber really was. He weighed maybe a pound or two here; his face was already feeling puffy. There she was, upside down, haloed by lights from somewhere. Beside her, a thick white rope hung from a ring on the floor. She gave him her hand to help him turn himself around and get his feet under him.

  Now they were both right side up, and the big empty space was over their heads where it belonged. With part of his brain, Harry was trying to figure out why they hadn’t had to do this upside-down thing when they first came in. The ramp, he realized—they must have been walking on the underside of the ramp when they came out of the shuttle, so then they were upside down to begin with, only they didn’t know it. That was pretty cute.

  She took the envelope he handed her, examined the bills and put them in her purse, then turned and knuckled him lightly up and down the ribs. “Here’s how it works,” she said. “Clothes off here, except for shoes—you’ll need them later. We put our clothes in these bags.”

  She undressed quickly. Her breasts were small and high; when she moved, they went every which way. Harry had a painful erection. Ignoring it, she said, “Now grab the rope and just lift one foot off the floor, then the other. That’s it. Now we pull ourselves up to the middle.”

  Harry felt himself growing lighter as they ascended. Now they were both floating, head to head, holding on to the rope. At the middle two thin cords with velcro patches at the ends were waving like snakes. Caroline caught one and fastened the velcro around her crossed ankles. “Put the other one on around your waist.” Harry did it, still holding onto the rope, but he could feel himself whirling around, and he was afraid for a minute he was going to be sick.

  “Let go,” she said. As they floated away, she pushed herself down along his body, then swung her legs up to encircle him. She pulled herself up again, clasped him with legs and arms, and looked him in the eyes. “Now, lover,” she said.

  It was easier to ignore the lack of an up or down than he had expected, because the lights on both of them kept him from seeing the distant walls, but the sex itself was hard to get the hang of. It seemed like her body didn’t weigh anything, because there she was floating in the air, and yet when he moved against her there was a feeling of resistance; then she would start moving away, and when
he pulled her back with his hands there was a resistance again. Her boobs and her hair went this way and that way.

  After a minute or two he got the rhythm better. She smiled sleepily and let go of him with her arms, laying out in the air in front of him with her hands behind her head. When he came, she drew herself close again and held him.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Good boy.” She pulled herself in to the rope by the cord. Harry followed her, and they went hand over hand down to the bottom of the chamber.

  “That was something,” he said.

  “Sure it was. Get your clothes on fast, or they’ll hit you for another half-hour.”

  In the elevator, he said, “You want to have a drink?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  As they were crossing the park, they passed a young man in a silver jacket, and she made some kind of signal to him.

  “Friend of yours?”

  “Kind of.”

  They sat at a table in a dim cocktail lounge. “Listen, I want to ask you something,” Harry said. “That was the only thing I done here that made any sense to me, and no hard feelings, but I wouldn’t of come all this way for that. What the hell is the point?”

  “Of Star Towers? The idea was to make a space colony, where people could live just the way they do on Earth, only better. You know, no pollution, no overcrowding, no bureaucrats. But that was a joke. Seven hundred people built this place, and it cost two trillion dollars. Figure out how much apiece we’d have to pay if we wanted to own it.”

  “Two billion nine,” Harry said.

  “Right. The project was supposed to be paid for by building solar power satellites, but that never worked, and anyhow they’ve got better power sources now and they don’t need solar. Okay, the only other thing is a tourist trap. People come here because they can afford it and other people can’t. Maybe that isn’t a great reason, but that’s the way it is. Sound familiar?”