"I'm in favor of getting rid of it," George muttered. "There are other things—cars—"
Dr. Potter took an official form from a drawer. "A change of environment you need. Timmy needs. You leave tomorrow on a month's vacation."
"But my vacation doesn't come up for six months," George said. "Or doesn't that matter?" he added hopefully.
"You will leave tomorrow, as said. No? Your office will I inform of the necessary departure. Sector administration will be knowing." He wrote on a sheet of paper. "The colorful spots. That you will see. Timmy will see things as they really are. Itineraries will send the route by facsimile. Good. Not?"
"Why, I think it's wonderful!" George said.
"Timmy must see the sunrise. The sea, he must swim in. Things, he must do. Remember. Yes?"
"Yes," George said. "No?" He turned to his wife. "There's an agency where we can rent a car—and they have new Caddies—"
The tapering white obelisk thrust upward from the earth like a giant needle. The Briggses entered the base of it, went up the elevator, and caught glimpses of stairway landings as the cage rose slowly. When they stepped out on the platform near the top, they walked to the pair of port openings on one side and looked out.
In the time it had taken them to get to the top of Washington Monument, a light fog, borne on the slight evening breeze, had enveloped the tall shaft at its midsection; they could see nothing of the ground below. They were isolated from Earth, connected to it only by the elevator well.