The Twins Paradox - Alan Gasparutti (top ten books of all time txt) 📗

Retono on one and Alan Lucas on the other.
“What are these for?” Lucas asked.
“These are Driving Licenses,” Major Retono explained. “I’m now satisfied that you are both suitable to drive cars on Earth. The Professor and I have been checking various rules and regulations in this world, or in this nation at least, and one of them is that you will require a license before you can drive. I should stress that these may be rescinded from you at any time, by me or by the national authorities.”
“But there must have been some mistake,” said Ramondo. “This isn’t my name.”
“It is from today,” Major Retono instructed. “Though it is incorrect, you will be regarded as my son. If we are to continue our reconnaissance here, we must follow the laws, and blend in with the cultures, of this nation.”
“Is this why I have two names?” queried Lucas.
“That is correct,” Major Retono informed him. “You will also know me as Henry Retono. I will be calling a meeting later today to explain everything. This and several other points will all become clearer then.”
That afternoon, Major Retono called everyone into one room. Doors were locked and mobiles were switched off. He explained that on Earth, as on the Interstellar Pilgrim, there were rules to be obeyed, and after giving a rough outline of the rules and regulations concerned, he presented everyone with various documents.
“I have a document named a Birth Certificate,” said Madaly. “This implies that I was born in the city of Birmingham on March 5th 1981. That’s not strictly correct?”
“No. it is not strictly correct, but we must amalgamate with the people from this nation,” said Major Retono. ”In fact, this is as good a nation to amalgamate as any on Earth. There are many different people and cultures. We should have no problem mingling with the people, as we look and sound the same. However, we must not let ourselves be fooled into believing we will be accepted if we inform authorities that we are from another world. Therefore, these plans have been put into place.”
Major Retono then elaborated on some of the issues, so as they could all fully understand the purpose of the documents. After some further queries, everyone accepted that this was necessary, and would follow the instructions from this day on.


A New Beginning

It was a new beginning for Major Retono and his reconnaissance team. They were now citizens of the United Kingdom, and were on the electoral role. Each of them now had two names, a first name and a surname, and carried various licences and certificates. Further plans were afoot to develop some of their relationships, too; plans which would be developed in the United Kingdom.
All the time, Major Retono, or Henry Retono as he now preferred to be known as, maintained close contact with the Interstellar Pilgrim. All the plans had been discussed with Commander Ondichi, who had agreed and authorised them. However, it became more and more obvious that Henry Retono and his team now had to live their own lives, and pave the way for residents of the Interstellar Pilgrim to start a new life on Earth.
Henry Retono had become rather impressed with the digital car, particularly when he compared it to the other Primera and all petrol-based vehicles which went up and down the valley each day. He and Professor Wagstaff felt that this was the perfect green vehicle which the Earth was looking for, that could turn the corner in the all-target-but-no-substance battle against global warming. First of all however, the idea had to be sold to the people of Earth.
Henry and Professor Arthur Wagstaff saw a perfect opportunity ahead of them. On Sunday, Richard Copeland, who was one of the pot-holers who had saved Zebrina the previous weekend, was coming to visit Ramondo Retono, as he preferred to be known (this was agreed as he had already identified himself by that name to Richard Copeland). Unbeknown to them, Richard would bring along his father, Peter Copeland, who was working for the Ministry of Defence.
Ramondo introduced his colleague, now known as Alan Lucas, before taking them for a trip in their car. Peter requested to sit in the front, as he was determined to see the controls for himself, after all the fuss Richard had been making about it during the week. All along he thought the idea of a digital car was too good to be true, and that there must be a catch somewhere along the line.
To Peter’s surprise however, he found that the car was everything Richard had said about it. The drive down the valley to Settle seemed as good as if it were in a regular 1.8 Primera, smooth, comfortable and quiet.
Peter then asked Ramondo to pull over, so that he could look at the engine himself. All appeared to be okay, though some items beneath the bonnet were effectively redundant.
“How long have you had this car?” Peter then asked.
“Only a few weeks,” replied Ramondo. “We haven’t really used this on many different terrains. We think it should be as fast as a normal car.”
“You haven’t yet tried this on the motorway?” Peter queried, to which Ramondo acknowledged. “We’re not far from the A65. We can follow that road to the M6. You can try the car there, see how fast it can go. “
As Ramondo didn’t know the area too well, he let Peter direct him. When they got to the motorway, Ramondo didn’t drive too fast, up to 50 miles per hour, as he had never been on a motorway before. As he saw other cars wiz by however, he began to press button 5 on the steering wheel harder, which increased the speed.
Ramondo didn’t feel too comfortable at first, and only looked ahead. As the others talked to him, he took little notice at first and was concerned at controlling the car. As he became used to the driving, Ramondo began to ease a little. Eventually, they turned off the motorway at the next exit, afterwhich Peter again directed them back to Ribblehead cottage.
Ramondo and Alan Lucas introduced Peter and Richard to the others when they arrived. After a brief conversation, Peter said he was impressed with the car and would speak to a mechanic about it and ask him to look at it, before he and Richard left.

In the meantime, far away in the USA, it was also a new beginning for Frank Marshall, former Professor at NASA. He was now preparing to move to a new house, away from the hustle of the city.
At 6.30 am, one Thursday morning in October, he closed the front door to his old house on the outskirts of Houston, before locking it. He then waved farewell to the property in which he and his wife Jeanette had spent the past twelve years, and had seen their children grow up in.
Frank was taking some of the possessions with him, which were already stored in the removal lorry outside the house. In the lorry was his good friend Clint Williams, in whose house Jeanette was staying while the men sorted the removals.
After leaving, they headed off into Houston, to drop off the keys in the Estate Agents’, before leaving the city. As they headed out and along the highway, they could see traffic building up on the other side of the carriageway, traffic which Frank was all too familiar with but would be part of no longer. They then shared driving responsibilities of the lorry, until by 10.00 am, he and Clint were becoming hungry, and so pulled into a service station.
“What does Jeanette think about moving?” Clint asked.
“Well, she wasn’t too keen on moving to Colorado at first – she wanted to go to California,” Frank explained. “I wasn’t too keen on moving at all initially, so Colorado was really a compromise.”
“This new house of yours,” Clint queried. “I think I’ve driven past it a couple of times. It’s smaller than the house you’ve just left behind?”
“Yes it is, but why would I want a mansion at my time of life?” Frank said to Clint. “If I wanted a 5 bedroom detached house with a 60 metre garden I could have stayed put. My children have gone now and my mother and father ain’t around anymore.”
“It’s not far from Pikes Peak observatory, is it?” Clint queried.
“About seven miles away,” said Frank. “That was one of things which persuaded me to look at Colorado, high country, clear skies at night. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been to the observatory a few times myself,” said Clint. “It’s a pretty good view.”
“You’ve become rather interested in astronomy, haven’t you?” Frank said to him. “Perhaps I should have asked you to come to the annual International Astronomers Convention in July.”
“What was the Convention like?” asked Clint.
“Oh I didn’t go this year, what with retirement and all that,” Frank told him “I didn’t fancy flying all the way to New Zealand, either. I didn’t want to be responsible for causing more greenhouse gas in the atmosphere.”
“Whichever flight you’d have taken to New Zealand would still have flown, whether you had boarded it or not,” replied Clint.
“I suppose so, but I want to do my bit to help the environment,” said Frank. “If enough people took the same view, flights would have to be cancelled by the operators.”
“Or reduced in price,” emphasised Clint. “Do I detect you becoming a little more environmental these days?”
“I’ve been leaning that way for a while now,” said Frank. “I tended not to show my green side at NASA, because let’s face it, NASA isn’t really the greenest company in the world.”
“I suppose you can’t go protesting about environmental issues in a city like Houston, or anywhere else in Texas for that matter,” commented Clint.
“Exactly,” replied Frank. “You’re more likely to find yourself heckled and jeered in Houston, because so many people rely on the oil business, directly or indirectly. Even those with green views wouldn’t protest, in case they’d be sacked by their bosses.”
“We may not witness icebergs melting, nor recognise an increase in temperature by the odd degree or two, but everyone noticed the effects of Katrina,” said Clint.
“Oh I’ve noticed the effects before hurricane Katrina,” replied Frank. “The hurricanes were getting stronger and stronger each year. It’s just that it takes an incident of those proportions before people in seniority take note.”
“I suppose the population of Houston must have increased after so many people were transported from New Orleans and the surrounding states.” Clint speculated.
“Indeed, indeed,” sighed Frank.
“That convention you were on about?” Clint then queried, in an effort to change the subject. “Do you think I’d have been okay there, or would I be out of my depths?”
“Not really,” Frank told him. “Not everyone attending is a Professor or a rocket scientist. Many of them bring guests along, who may not be interested in astronomy. Besides, most professors are just ordinary people. Look at me.”
Clint thought to himself for a moment.
“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to next year’s convention?” Frank suggested to Clint.
“Oh I don’t know if I really want to fly all the way to New Zealand,” Clint replied.
“Oh you won’t have to go far to next year’s convention,” Frank told him. “You may not even have to fly – it’s being held in California.”
“Did anyone else go along from NASA last year?” Clint asked, as he became a little more interested.
“Steve,” Frank replied. “Apparently, he had a hand in naming the new moon.”
“I didn’t know the new moon had a name,” said Clint.