3001, the Final Odyssey,
by Arthur C. Clarke
Excerpts from the book, Chapters 11 and 12
Frank Poole became aware that he was not alone in the sky. Something else was approaching, and it was certainly not a human flyer….it seemed much too large for that…. A pterodactyl was not a bad guess, maybe eight points out of ten. What was approaching him now, with slow flaps of its leathery wings, was a dragon straight out of Fairyland. And to complete the picture, there was a beautiful lady riding on its back. At least, Poole assumed she was beautiful. The traditional image was spoiled by one trifling detail: much of her face was concealed by a large pair of aviator’s goggles that might have come straight from the open cockpit of a World War I biplane….
And then he forgot about the dragon, for the rider removed her goggles. The trouble with clichés, some philosopher remarked, probably with a yawn, is that they are so boringly true. But “love at first sight” is never boring….
Indra, however gave him the answer he needed right away.
“So you’ve met the Dragon Lady!”
“Is that what you call her? What’s her real name, and can you get me her Ident?”
“Of course – no problemo.”…
Her name’s Aurora McAuley; among many other things, she’s President of the Society for Creative Anachronisms….
This is too good to be true, thought Poole. I am the biggest anachronism on Planet Earth.
To Poole’s delight, Mistress McAuley’s Ident conveyed the information that she was currently between lovers, and he wasted no further time in contacting her……
I believe I’ve passed another test, he told himself smugly. Riding on Draco must have been the first. How many more, I wonder?….
But there were no more, and the answer to the immemorial “Your place or mine?” was – Poole’s.
The next morning, shaken and mortified, he contacted Professor Anderson.
“Everything was going splendidly,” he lamented, “when she suddenly became hysterical and pushed me away. I was afraid I’d hurt her somehow –
Then she called the roomlight – we’d been in darkness – and jumped out of bed. I guess I was just staring like a fool…” He laughed ruefully. “She was certainly worth staring at.”
“I’m sure of it. Go on.”
“After a few minutes, she relaxed and said something I’ll never be able to forget.”
Anderson waited patiently for Poole to compose himself.
“She said, ‘I’m really sorry, Frank. We could have had a good time. But I didn’t know that you’ve been – mutilated.’”
The professor looked baffled, but only for a moment.
“OH, I understand. I’m sorry too, Frank – perhaps I should have warned you. In my thirty years of practice, I’ve only seen half a dozen cases – all for valid medical reasons, which certainly didn’t apply to you…
“Circumcision made a lot of sense in primitive times – and even in your century, as a defense against some unpleasant, even fatal, diseases in backward countries with poor hygiene. But otherwise there was absolutely no excuse for it – and several arguments against, as you’ve just discovered!”
“I checked the records after I’d examined you the first time, and found that by mid-Twenty-First Century there had been so many malpractice suits that the American Medical Association had been forced to ban it…..”
“In some countries, it continued for another century; then some unknown genius coined a slogan – please excuse the vulgarity – “God designed us: Circumcision is blasphemy.’ That more or less ended the practice…..”
Poole found himself laughing.
“Now what, Frank?”
“Aurora’s ‘Society for Creative Anachronisms.’ I’d hoped it would improve my chances. Just my luck to have found one anachronism she doesn’t appreciate.”
