“It was implicit in Beatrice’s every attitude that she was intellectually, morally, and physically what God intended human beings to be when perfected, and that the rest of humanity needed another ten thousand years in which to catch up. Again we have a case of an ordinary and uncreative person’s tickling God Almighty pink. The proposition that God Almighty admired Beatrice for her touch-me-not breeding is at least as questionable as the proposition that God Almighty wanted Malachi Constant to be rich.
“Mrs. Rumfoord,” said Winston Niles Rumfoord up in his treetop, “I now invite you and your son to follow Malachi Constant into the space ship bound for Titan. Is there something you would like to say before you leave?”
There was a long silence in which mother and son drew closer together and looked, shoulder to shoulder, at a world much changed by the news of the day.
“Are you planning to address us, Mrs. Rumfoord?” said Rumfoord up in his treetop.
“Yes,” said Beatrice. “But it won’t take me long. I believe everything you say about me is true, since you so seldom lie. But when my son and I walk together to that ladder and climb it, we will not be doing it for you, or for your silly crowd. We will be doing it for ourselves – and we will be proving to ourselves and to anybody who wants to watch that we aren’t afraid of anything. Our hearts won’t be breaking when we leave this planet. It disgusts us at least as much as we, under your guidance, disgust it.
“I do not recall the old days,” said Beatrice, “when I was mistress of this estate, when I could not stand to do anything or to have anything done to me. But I loved myself the instant you told me I’d been that way. The human race is a scummy thing, and so is Earth, and so are you.”
Beatrice and Chrono walked quickly over the catwalks and ramps to the ladder, climbed the ladder. They brushed past Malachi Constant in the doorway of the space ship without any sort of greeting. They disappeared inside.
Constant followed them into the space ship, and joined them as they considered the accommodations.
The condition of the accommodations was a surprise – and would have been a surprise to the custodians of the estate in particular. The space ship, seemingly inviolable at the top of a shaft in sacred precincts patrolled by watchmen, had plainly been the scene of one or perhaps several wild parties.
The bunks were all unmade. The bedding was rumpled, twisted, and wadded. The sheets were stained with lipstick and shoe polish.
Fried clams crunched greasily underfoot.
Two quart bottles of Mountain Moonlight, one pint of Southern Comfort, and a dozen cans of Narragansett Lager Beer, all empty, were scattered through the ship.
Two names were written in lipstick on the white wall by the door: Bud and Sylvia. And from a flange on the central shaft in the cabin hung a black brassi�re.
Beatrice gathered up the bottles and beer cans. She dropped them out the door. She took the brassi�re down, and fluttered it out the doorway, awaiting a favorable wind.
Malachi Constant, sighing and shaking his bead and mourning Stony Stevenson, used his feet for pushbrooms. He scuffed the fried clams toward the door.
Young Chrono sat on a bunk, rubbing his goodluck piece. “Let’s go, Mom,” he said tautly. “For crying out loud, let’s go.”
Beatrice let go of the brassi�re. A gust caught it, carried it over the crowd, hung it in a tree next to the tree in which Rumfoord sat.
“Good-by, all you clean and wise and lovely people,” said Beatrice.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE GENTLEMAN FROM
TRALFAMADORE
“In a punctual way of speaking, good-by.”
– WINSTON NILES RUMFOORD
Saturn has nine moons, the greatest of which is Titan. Titan is only slightly smaller than Mars. Titan is the only moon in the Solar System that has an atmosphere. There is plenty of oxygen to breathe. The atmosphere of Titan is like the atmosphere outside the back door of an Earthling bakery on a spring morning.
Titan has a natural chemical furnace at its core that maintains a uniform air temperature of sixty-seven degrees Fahrenheit.
There are three seas on Titan: each the size of Earthling Lake Michigan. The waters of all three are fresh and emerald clear. The names of the three are the Winston Sea, the Niles Sea, and the Rumfoord Sea.
There is a cluster of ninety-three ponds and lakes, incipiently a fourth sea. The cluster is known as the Kazak Pools.
Connecting the Winston Sea, the Niles Sea, the Rumfoord Sea and the Kazak Pools are three great rivers. These rivers, with their tributaries, are moody – variously roaring, listless, and torn. Their moods are determined by the wildly fluctuating tugs of eight fellow moons, and by the prodigious influence of Saturn, which has ninety-five times the mass of Earth. The three rivers are known as the Winston River, the Niles River, and the Rumfoord River.
There are woods and meadows and mountains.
The tallest mountain is Mount Rumfoord, which is nine thousand, five hundred and seventy-one feet high.
Titan affords an incomparable view of the most appallingly beautiful things in the Solar System, the rings of Saturn. These dazzling bands are forty thousand miles across and scarcely thicker than a razor blade.
On Titan the rings are called Rumfoord’s Rainbow.
Saturn describes a circle around the Sun.
It does it once every twenty-nine and a half Earthling years.
Titan describes a circle around Saturn.
Titan describes, as a consequence, a spiral around the Sun.
Winston Niles Rumfoord and his dog Kazak were wave phenomena – pulsing in distorted spirals, with their origins in the Sun and their terminals in Betelgeuse. Whenever a heavenly body intercepted their spirals, Rumfoord and his dog materialized on that body.
For reasons as yet mysterious, the spirals of Rumfoord, Kazak, and Titan coincided exactly.
So Rumfoord and his dog were permanently materialized on Titan.
Rumfoord and Kazak lived there on an island one mile from shore in the Winston Sea. Their home was a flawless reproduction of the Taj Mahal in Earthling India.
It was built by Martian labor.
It was Rumfood’s wry fancy to call his Titan home Dun Roamin.
Before the arrival of Malachi Constant, Beatrice, Rumfoord, and Chrono, there was only one other person on Titan. That other person was named Salo. He was old. Salo was eleven million Earthling years old.
Salo was from another galaxy, from the Small Magellanic Cloud. He was four and a half feet tall.
Salo had a skin with the texture and color of the skin of an Earthling tangerine.
Salo had three light deer-like legs. His feet were of an extraordinarily interesting design, each being an inflatable sphere. By inflating these spheres to the size of German batballs, Salo could walk on water. By reducing them to the size of golf balls, Salo could bound over hard surfaces at high speeds. When he deflated the spheres entirely, his feet became suction cups. Salo could walk up walls.
Salo had no arms. Salo had three eyes, and his eyes could perceive not only the so-called visible spectrum, but infrared and ultraviolet and X-rays as well. Salo was punctual – that is, he lived one moment at a time – and he liked to tell Rumfoord that he would rather see the wonderful colors at the far ends of the spectrum than either the past or the future.
This was something of a weasel, since Salo had seen, living a moment at a time, far more of the past and far more of the Universe than Rumfoord had. He remembered more of what he had seen, too.
Salo’s head was round and hung on gimbals.
His voice was an electric noise-maker that sounded like a bicycle horn. He spoke five thousand languages, fifty of them Earthling languages, thirty-one of them dead Earthling languages.
Salo didn’t live in a palace, though Rumfoord had offered to have one built for him. Salo lived in the open, near the space ship that had brought him to Titan two hundred thousand years before. His space ship was a flying saucer, the prototype for the Martian invasion fleet.
Salo had an interesting history.
In the Earthling year 483,441 B.C., he was chosen by popular telepathic enthusiasm as the most handsome, healthy, clean-minded specimen of his people. The occasion was the hundred-millionth anniversary of the government of his home planet in the Small Magellanic Cloud. The name of his home planet was Tralfamadore, which old Salo once translated for Rumfoord as meaning both all of us and the number 541.
The length of a year on his home planet, according to his own calculations, was 3.6162 times the length of an Earthling year – so the celebration in which he participated was actually in honor of a government 361, 620,000 Earthling years old. Salo once described this durable form of government to Rumfoord as hypnotic anarchy, but declined to explain its workings. “Either you understand at once what it is,” he told Rumfoord, “or there is no sense in trying to explain it to you, Skip.”