The Great Phone Directory of the Earth and neighbouring planets: Chapter 25
Chapter 25
- I beg your pardon?
- Marrying my daughter could save your life.
- I am sure you will realize that, being a dead man walking, I am so desperate I’d try anything I am told in order to save my life… and this makes your suggestion a bit… how can I put that…? Calculating?
- There is a precise reason why I’m suggesting you to do so.
- I have no doubt about it.
- Well, the planet we come from is called Sedna.
- Never heard of it.
- According to your standards the correct definition, rather than “planet”, would be “trans-Neptunian object”…
- What does it mea…
- I know what you are about to ask me: it simply means that, compared to where you are, it is located beyond Neptune. And it is rather small, that’s why, first thing, we decided to purchase the Earth, and, second, it is commonly defined “dwarf planet”.
- These things you’re telling are of no help to me.
- You, the terrestrials, discovered Sedna in 2003 and, in a state of euphoria brought about by such finding, you immediately proposed it had to be considered for all practical purposes the tenth planet of the solar system.
- I am warning you, in case you didn’t notice, you’re taking the long way again.
- There’s a reason why.
- You always seem to have a reason, when a bunch of insane fanatic killers are venting their creativity on me, organizing my death.
- Let me go on and you will see I am right.
- Go on, then.
- Well, you have no idea of the enthusiasm your proposal aroused on Sedna: people all over the streets; schools closed; nobody showing up at work; and then parties, concerts, people celebrating everywhere, or quitting their jobs overnight. So many balloons were inflated in those days we even feared the planet would be carried away. For us, it meant we could have access to the economic system of the biggest and most important planet community close to us: our children would have the chance to study abroad, or we could find a job on a planet of our choice among the members of the SSC.
- SSC?
- The Solar System Community. Anyway, the euphoria lasted a couple of years.
- And then?
- And then the International Astronomical Union was summoned to ratify the discovery. I remember everything perfectly: it was August 24th 2006. The whole planet - or better, what would officially shortly become a planet - had turned on that thing you call television, and that, for us, is just brainwaves projecting images on our closed eyelids, to follow live thousands of astronomers and scientists who were about to open the doors to a new world for us.
- Judging from your emphatic tone, I have the feeling something went wrong.
- I am not being emphatic. Try to figure three billion people…
- …And one hundred sixty-eight million, four hundred thousand eleven, seven hundred and twenty-nine.
- No, on that very day we were exactly three billion.
- Oh.
- Just try to figure, I was saying, three billion of my fellow countrymen all busy watching the same TV show, waiting for the official announcement, armed with paper streamers, toy-trumpets, fireworks and bottles of champagne specially imported from France, as a homage to the International Astronomical Union, headquartered on your planet, in Paris.
- If I told you I am figuring all of them and my brain is elaborating an image of the scene in high-definition and in 16:9, would you, in return, carry on?
- You wouldn’t find the whole thing so amusing had you been with us on that day, and heard what we later had to hear.
- That is?
- That Pluto had been relegated.
- To what championship?
- What are you talking about? It had been downgraded to “dwarf planet”, leaving the government of the galaxy to the “G8”.
- You know, you should stop quoting acronyms when you know perfectly well that in about two seconds I will ask you what they mean.
- The “G8” are Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune.
- All right, but why would you give a damn about Pluto?
- You must understand that Pluto is about a third bigger than Sedna and less distant from the Sun, and this puts it slightly ahead of us in the place-list.
- Oh, so there’s a place-list, of course.
- Of course. Consider also that Sedna is the owner of an orbit considered “eccentric” that has always been frowned upon, and besides, it is very slow.
- Slow?
- Yes, slow. Sedna takes 11,487 of your years to make an entire orbit around the Sun.
- But the Earth…?
- “But the Earth” what?
- How long does the Earth take to make a complete rotation around the Sun?
- You are asking me because you really don’t know?
- No, come on. I am asking you even if I do know, but I just wanted to give the snipers who are keeping me under fire all the necessary time - as approved by workers’ unions - to take aim at me properly.
- The Earth makes an entire orbit in one year, obviously. Or better, to be more precise, it’s the other way round: your 365-day year is calculated according to the time the Earth takes to make a whole rotation.
- Oh.
- A calculation that, besides, you have carried out rather roughly – a peculiar trait of your race, considering its astronomy culture – because you forgot 6 hours, 13 minutes and 52 seconds a year you have to make up for adding one day in leap years…
- What can I say? These are luxuries one can indulge in when riding a planet eleven thousand times faster than yours.
- We used to like Sedna as it was, even in its slowness. Plus, there weren’t so many drawbacks for being slow, apart from little things. Like, using expressions such as “last spring” meant referring to a period of time dating back three to six thousand years, something not everybody seemed to appreciate. Fashion designers, for instance, were fed up having to wait almost six thousand years for the new runway season. We have even considered motorizing it, but our engineers came to the conclusion that - with the expenses for fuel, oil and brake checks, and highway stops - it would have been much cheaper to buy a brand new planet.
- Highway stops?
- Sure. Where do you take your fellow terrestrials when you want to eat a sandwich or have a pee halfway between the Earth and the Sun?
- As a rule, we pee on our own planet.
- Well, not a very healthy thing to do.
- Maybe. But comes in handy. Also considering that we couldn’t all just wait for Apollo 11 to go and have a pee.
- About that…
- Tell me.
- Do you still have access to the bathroom?
- Excuse me, but what does that mean exactly?
- I’m just asking. You know, usually it’s the first room the polishmen seal…
- Oh, no!
- There. It would have been quite a surprise if they hadn’t…
- I can easily smash the door down.
- Honestly, I doubt it. As a rule, they secure the door reinforcing it with Rigelian steel bars and, even if you do succeed in getting in, they must have already poured quick-setting concrete down the toilet bowl.
- Well. You know what?
- No. Tell me.
- I’ve had enough. Now, why don’t you put aside your astrology and geo-politics for when I will have enough life left to give a damn about them, stop digressing and explain to me why marrying your daughter should save me from these crazed idiots?
- I was getting there.
- Please, do take your time.
- If you have followed what I told you, you may easily imagine that Sedna’s biggest aspiration is still to become a member of the Solar System Community.
- Yes, and my aspiration is still to understand what has your daughter got to do with it.
- Well, according to an old treaty dating back to the time of the promulgation of the second Jovial Constitution, Sedna is denied access to the Solar System Community unless a special condition occurs.
- I have the feeling we are finally getting to the point.
- Please note that such special condition has its historic background: it seems that a Jovial countess had remain…
- No, now seriously, you can’t do this to me. I’m telling you loud and clear: I-do-not-give-a-damn about the Jovial countess, about interstellar nobility and Plutonian unicorns casting spells. Your daughter. Marriage. Why.
- As you wish. The condition being, of course, that even only one inhabitant of Sedna should get married - it doesn’t matter if with a civil or religious marriage - with someone who resides on any of the eight major planets.
- Uhm.
- That’s all.
- There’s something that’s still not so clear.
- I am here to help you.
- No, actually, there are two things I still don't get.
- Tell me.
- The first one is I really cannot see how would I benefit from all this.
- You would obtain the Sednian nationality and therefore, as a citizen of a planet belonging to the Solar System Community, you would be given diplomatic immunity.
- This means that the inhabitants of the major planets are all above the law?
- Absolutely not. See, it's quite simple: the SSC authority, that includes also Jupiter, passes over that of the Great Phone Directory of the Earth and Neighboring Planets (Jupiter not included), that is also the employer of the polishmen. You may easily guess the reason for this, and it is obviously related to the fact that in this second case Jupiter is, instead, not included.
- But you told me before that almost all polishmen are Jovial.
- And they are: that's because polishmen are mercenaries. It's such an unpleasant role they needed someone as obnoxious as a Jovial to do the job. Furthermore - do not forget it - they have the undisputable advantage they can read the mind.
- I see. There’s something else I wanted to ask you, but more out of curiosity. Given that what you are telling me is true (and I guess it must be, for I don’t think you are so foolish to take risks and make me remove the coins from the teapot for real), if it’s so easy to become a member of that thing… the Solar System Collective…
- Solar System Community…
- Whatever… if it’s that easy, I mean, why haven’t you succeeded so far?
- As for being easy, that’s just your opinion.
- Where’s the problem?
- We are the problem.
- What do you mean?
- See, the thing is, we, the Sednians, are… How can I put this? Ugly. Drop dead ugly.
- Marrying my daughter could save your life.
- I am sure you will realize that, being a dead man walking, I am so desperate I’d try anything I am told in order to save my life… and this makes your suggestion a bit… how can I put that…? Calculating?
- There is a precise reason why I’m suggesting you to do so.
- I have no doubt about it.
- Well, the planet we come from is called Sedna.
- Never heard of it.
- According to your standards the correct definition, rather than “planet”, would be “trans-Neptunian object”…
- What does it mea…
- I know what you are about to ask me: it simply means that, compared to where you are, it is located beyond Neptune. And it is rather small, that’s why, first thing, we decided to purchase the Earth, and, second, it is commonly defined “dwarf planet”.
- These things you’re telling are of no help to me.
- You, the terrestrials, discovered Sedna in 2003 and, in a state of euphoria brought about by such finding, you immediately proposed it had to be considered for all practical purposes the tenth planet of the solar system.
- I am warning you, in case you didn’t notice, you’re taking the long way again.
- There’s a reason why.
- You always seem to have a reason, when a bunch of insane fanatic killers are venting their creativity on me, organizing my death.
- Let me go on and you will see I am right.
- Go on, then.
- Well, you have no idea of the enthusiasm your proposal aroused on Sedna: people all over the streets; schools closed; nobody showing up at work; and then parties, concerts, people celebrating everywhere, or quitting their jobs overnight. So many balloons were inflated in those days we even feared the planet would be carried away. For us, it meant we could have access to the economic system of the biggest and most important planet community close to us: our children would have the chance to study abroad, or we could find a job on a planet of our choice among the members of the SSC.
- SSC?
- The Solar System Community. Anyway, the euphoria lasted a couple of years.
- And then?
- And then the International Astronomical Union was summoned to ratify the discovery. I remember everything perfectly: it was August 24th 2006. The whole planet - or better, what would officially shortly become a planet - had turned on that thing you call television, and that, for us, is just brainwaves projecting images on our closed eyelids, to follow live thousands of astronomers and scientists who were about to open the doors to a new world for us.
- Judging from your emphatic tone, I have the feeling something went wrong.
- I am not being emphatic. Try to figure three billion people…
- …And one hundred sixty-eight million, four hundred thousand eleven, seven hundred and twenty-nine.
- No, on that very day we were exactly three billion.
- Oh.
- Just try to figure, I was saying, three billion of my fellow countrymen all busy watching the same TV show, waiting for the official announcement, armed with paper streamers, toy-trumpets, fireworks and bottles of champagne specially imported from France, as a homage to the International Astronomical Union, headquartered on your planet, in Paris.
- If I told you I am figuring all of them and my brain is elaborating an image of the scene in high-definition and in 16:9, would you, in return, carry on?
- You wouldn’t find the whole thing so amusing had you been with us on that day, and heard what we later had to hear.
- That is?
- That Pluto had been relegated.
- To what championship?
- What are you talking about? It had been downgraded to “dwarf planet”, leaving the government of the galaxy to the “G8”.
- You know, you should stop quoting acronyms when you know perfectly well that in about two seconds I will ask you what they mean.
- The “G8” are Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune.
- All right, but why would you give a damn about Pluto?
- You must understand that Pluto is about a third bigger than Sedna and less distant from the Sun, and this puts it slightly ahead of us in the place-list.
- Oh, so there’s a place-list, of course.
- Of course. Consider also that Sedna is the owner of an orbit considered “eccentric” that has always been frowned upon, and besides, it is very slow.
- Slow?
- Yes, slow. Sedna takes 11,487 of your years to make an entire orbit around the Sun.
- But the Earth…?
- “But the Earth” what?
- How long does the Earth take to make a complete rotation around the Sun?
- You are asking me because you really don’t know?
- No, come on. I am asking you even if I do know, but I just wanted to give the snipers who are keeping me under fire all the necessary time - as approved by workers’ unions - to take aim at me properly.
- The Earth makes an entire orbit in one year, obviously. Or better, to be more precise, it’s the other way round: your 365-day year is calculated according to the time the Earth takes to make a whole rotation.
- Oh.
- A calculation that, besides, you have carried out rather roughly – a peculiar trait of your race, considering its astronomy culture – because you forgot 6 hours, 13 minutes and 52 seconds a year you have to make up for adding one day in leap years…
- What can I say? These are luxuries one can indulge in when riding a planet eleven thousand times faster than yours.
- We used to like Sedna as it was, even in its slowness. Plus, there weren’t so many drawbacks for being slow, apart from little things. Like, using expressions such as “last spring” meant referring to a period of time dating back three to six thousand years, something not everybody seemed to appreciate. Fashion designers, for instance, were fed up having to wait almost six thousand years for the new runway season. We have even considered motorizing it, but our engineers came to the conclusion that - with the expenses for fuel, oil and brake checks, and highway stops - it would have been much cheaper to buy a brand new planet.
- Highway stops?
- Sure. Where do you take your fellow terrestrials when you want to eat a sandwich or have a pee halfway between the Earth and the Sun?
- As a rule, we pee on our own planet.
- Well, not a very healthy thing to do.
- Maybe. But comes in handy. Also considering that we couldn’t all just wait for Apollo 11 to go and have a pee.
- About that…
- Tell me.
- Do you still have access to the bathroom?
- Excuse me, but what does that mean exactly?
- I’m just asking. You know, usually it’s the first room the polishmen seal…
- Oh, no!
- There. It would have been quite a surprise if they hadn’t…
- I can easily smash the door down.
- Honestly, I doubt it. As a rule, they secure the door reinforcing it with Rigelian steel bars and, even if you do succeed in getting in, they must have already poured quick-setting concrete down the toilet bowl.
- Well. You know what?
- No. Tell me.
- I’ve had enough. Now, why don’t you put aside your astrology and geo-politics for when I will have enough life left to give a damn about them, stop digressing and explain to me why marrying your daughter should save me from these crazed idiots?
- I was getting there.
- Please, do take your time.
- If you have followed what I told you, you may easily imagine that Sedna’s biggest aspiration is still to become a member of the Solar System Community.
- Yes, and my aspiration is still to understand what has your daughter got to do with it.
- Well, according to an old treaty dating back to the time of the promulgation of the second Jovial Constitution, Sedna is denied access to the Solar System Community unless a special condition occurs.
- I have the feeling we are finally getting to the point.
- Please note that such special condition has its historic background: it seems that a Jovial countess had remain…
- No, now seriously, you can’t do this to me. I’m telling you loud and clear: I-do-not-give-a-damn about the Jovial countess, about interstellar nobility and Plutonian unicorns casting spells. Your daughter. Marriage. Why.
- As you wish. The condition being, of course, that even only one inhabitant of Sedna should get married - it doesn’t matter if with a civil or religious marriage - with someone who resides on any of the eight major planets.
- Uhm.
- That’s all.
- There’s something that’s still not so clear.
- I am here to help you.
- No, actually, there are two things I still don't get.
- Tell me.
- The first one is I really cannot see how would I benefit from all this.
- You would obtain the Sednian nationality and therefore, as a citizen of a planet belonging to the Solar System Community, you would be given diplomatic immunity.
- This means that the inhabitants of the major planets are all above the law?
- Absolutely not. See, it's quite simple: the SSC authority, that includes also Jupiter, passes over that of the Great Phone Directory of the Earth and Neighboring Planets (Jupiter not included), that is also the employer of the polishmen. You may easily guess the reason for this, and it is obviously related to the fact that in this second case Jupiter is, instead, not included.
- But you told me before that almost all polishmen are Jovial.
- And they are: that's because polishmen are mercenaries. It's such an unpleasant role they needed someone as obnoxious as a Jovial to do the job. Furthermore - do not forget it - they have the undisputable advantage they can read the mind.
- I see. There’s something else I wanted to ask you, but more out of curiosity. Given that what you are telling me is true (and I guess it must be, for I don’t think you are so foolish to take risks and make me remove the coins from the teapot for real), if it’s so easy to become a member of that thing… the Solar System Collective…
- Solar System Community…
- Whatever… if it’s that easy, I mean, why haven’t you succeeded so far?
- As for being easy, that’s just your opinion.
- Where’s the problem?
- We are the problem.
- What do you mean?
- See, the thing is, we, the Sednians, are… How can I put this? Ugly. Drop dead ugly.
English translation by Paola Corazza
© 2009 Gianluca Neri - All Rights Reserved