"Well," Hal announced aloud to himself, "guess that's it."
He ordered the automatic secretary to make all suitable arrangements and then stood up. He walked to the elevator, where a soft, hissing breeze conveyed his temporary one-tenth pound relative gently up the tube to the roof. There his weight returned to its normal two pounds relative, and he spoke to the robot attendant. "My cab." His Formair Aircab was promptly and quietly delivered, and Hal stepped inside.
"Destination?" a voice inquired softly from the control bank.
"Take me to the nearest available Civilization Conditioning Treatment Center."
At once, the cab took off. It was a silent and comfortable motion. Hal had always liked flying.
The automatic pilot was speaking to him gently. "Central Authority advises that the nearest available CCT Center at this time is in the metropolis of Knoxville. This requires traversing interurban wilderness."
Hal frowned just slightly. He had never seen the interurban wilderness, of course, and had not the slightest desire to do so. That was chaos. He inquired, "How soon can the local Center take me?"
"Three days, seven hours twenty minutes from reference time. Mark time ... mark!" the robot announced the temporal point of reference.
"Too long," Hal replied wearily. "Let's go to Knoxville. And shut off all outside views. I do not wish to see the chaos."
The Aircab obediently turned and transposed through the suspend-field of the York metropolis Airdome. It was an effortless passing, since the field that constituted the wall structure of the Aircab was exactly in phase with that of the Airdome field. Both were Formair manufacture, of course.