for the direct experience. Since I have to go to England for the week-end, I wondered whether we could – oh – have dinner together, for instance. And talk a little more about this proposition of yours.’
‘I think I’d like that very much,’ she said.
‘You’re not doing anything, then?’ I was coming back from my preoccupation with Patricia, and my normal sensitivity to nuances of intonation told me now she’d been glad to get this call, but was slightly ashamed of admitting it.
She took the plunge abruptly. ‘No, nothing. Frankly, Mr Vincent, this is my first trip to Earth, and it’s even more disorientating than I’d been told. I see there’s no shortage of things to do in leisure time, but I simply don’t know where to hook on to what’s happening.’
That was an apt way of putting it. I’d more than once had Starhomers get in touch with me at the Bureau – reluctantly, because only extreme pressure drove them to confess their problem – in order to ask questions that we natives found astonishing. The intense level of committal which Starhome demanded of its people left even their spare time tightly organized. On Earth, boredom swiftly gave way to a sense of helplessness and ultimately, in the worst case I’d seen, to anxiety neurosis brought on by having to make too manyunaccustomed decisions. The crisis might be precipitated by something as minor as how to spend the evening: at a dance, or a concert, or having dinner at a restaurant, or taking a girl flying, or – or – or…!
I suddenly felt rather sorry for this stranger to my planet. She must have had a gruelling time with the Tau Cetians, and for all that she’d come close to a breakdown, she hadn’t actually caved in, which argued a considerable strength of personality. My original prime intention of pumping her about the Starhomer plan to displace BuCult slipped down to second place in my thinking, and I found I was more concerned over how I could best give her examples she could follow on her own for the rest of her stay here.
I took her to the Kingdom more or less automatically; it was my and Patricia’s regular rendezvous, but that was a late development – I’d been using it ever since I joined the Bureau, because it was the best restaurant in that part of the city. That it also happened to be convenient for people from Area Met was a bonus, and this evening entailed a consequence which I didn’t know whether to take as amusing or annoying. At the next table to ours was one of Patricia’s colleagues, who recognized me at once and cocked an eyebrow on seeing me with another girl.
Oh, let it slide. If it was important, there was nothing I could do.
I began to enjoy myself quite quickly. A lot of Kay’s off-putting Starhomer arrogance turned out to be a mask for shyness, and when I’d persuaded her to call me Roald she began to relax. Before we’d finished eating we were already involved in a fierce argument about the social value of individual as opposed to communal recreation – I took the stand that the development of initiative was what counted, while she of course maintained the contrary, that integration of the individual into his society was the prime factor.
I was quite surprised by this. How much easier she was to talk to than Patricia! I could treat her as I might have treated an old friend like Jacky or Tomas from the Bureau, and if she found herself defending an illogical position she would just laugh and give up the struggle. All the time I was with Patricia I tended to be agreeing with her, trying to read into every remark the answer she wanted, for fear of antagonizing her. This was refreshingly different…
I pulled up short in dismay. What was happening to me? Was I getting disillusioned with Patricia so soon after deciding that here was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with?
Oh, that was absurd. I shook my head and forgot the silly notion.
After dinner, as a concession to her ideas
‘I think I’d like that very much,’ she said.
‘You’re not doing anything, then?’ I was coming back from my preoccupation with Patricia, and my normal sensitivity to nuances of intonation told me now she’d been glad to get this call, but was slightly ashamed of admitting it.
She took the plunge abruptly. ‘No, nothing. Frankly, Mr Vincent, this is my first trip to Earth, and it’s even more disorientating than I’d been told. I see there’s no shortage of things to do in leisure time, but I simply don’t know where to hook on to what’s happening.’
That was an apt way of putting it. I’d more than once had Starhomers get in touch with me at the Bureau – reluctantly, because only extreme pressure drove them to confess their problem – in order to ask questions that we natives found astonishing. The intense level of committal which Starhome demanded of its people left even their spare time tightly organized. On Earth, boredom swiftly gave way to a sense of helplessness and ultimately, in the worst case I’d seen, to anxiety neurosis brought on by having to make too manyunaccustomed decisions. The crisis might be precipitated by something as minor as how to spend the evening: at a dance, or a concert, or having dinner at a restaurant, or taking a girl flying, or – or – or…!
I suddenly felt rather sorry for this stranger to my planet. She must have had a gruelling time with the Tau Cetians, and for all that she’d come close to a breakdown, she hadn’t actually caved in, which argued a considerable strength of personality. My original prime intention of pumping her about the Starhomer plan to displace BuCult slipped down to second place in my thinking, and I found I was more concerned over how I could best give her examples she could follow on her own for the rest of her stay here.
I took her to the Kingdom more or less automatically; it was my and Patricia’s regular rendezvous, but that was a late development – I’d been using it ever since I joined the Bureau, because it was the best restaurant in that part of the city. That it also happened to be convenient for people from Area Met was a bonus, and this evening entailed a consequence which I didn’t know whether to take as amusing or annoying. At the next table to ours was one of Patricia’s colleagues, who recognized me at once and cocked an eyebrow on seeing me with another girl.
Oh, let it slide. If it was important, there was nothing I could do.
I began to enjoy myself quite quickly. A lot of Kay’s off-putting Starhomer arrogance turned out to be a mask for shyness, and when I’d persuaded her to call me Roald she began to relax. Before we’d finished eating we were already involved in a fierce argument about the social value of individual as opposed to communal recreation – I took the stand that the development of initiative was what counted, while she of course maintained the contrary, that integration of the individual into his society was the prime factor.
I was quite surprised by this. How much easier she was to talk to than Patricia! I could treat her as I might have treated an old friend like Jacky or Tomas from the Bureau, and if she found herself defending an illogical position she would just laugh and give up the struggle. All the time I was with Patricia I tended to be agreeing with her, trying to read into every remark the answer she wanted, for fear of antagonizing her. This was refreshingly different…
I pulled up short in dismay. What was happening to me? Was I getting disillusioned with Patricia so soon after deciding that here was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with?
Oh, that was absurd. I shook my head and forgot the silly notion.
After dinner, as a concession to her ideas
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