CULTURE
The Intergalactic
Space Chronicle
Pi in the Sky
By Arno Freedman
I must admit I was excited. It’s not that I had never been to orbit. In fact, Barnum Space Resort used to be one of our family’s favorite family vacations, but this time was special. I was invited to take a ride on the first-ever space elevator.
Inaugurated just a few weeks earlier, the Clark Elevator zips you up to Goddard Station, and from there you can take a shuttle to any number of destinations. I decided to use my golden ticket to visit 314, the very hyped circular hotel and restaurant, located about a third of the way to the moon.
At first, I felt a bit of trepidation about entering the massive capsule seemingly held on a flimsy string that is the tether connected to the counterweight in space, but as we ascended, the acceleration was so smooth and gradual that I think I may never take a space plane or rocket to orbit again, none of the turbulence or high-G maneuvers, just an ever-growing feeling of being tugged down as you go up, which dissipates as you begin to escape Earth’s demanding gravity.
My first visit to Goddard Station was nothing special, just a functional drab space hub with some duty free shops and multiple docks going to dozens of destinations, including the Moon. I was almost tempted to skip my restaurant review and elope to the Moon for some questionable good times on the dark side.
But alas, your loyal reporter had a mission, and that was to make sure that you don’t visit 314 in vain. I arrived just as the sun was rising over the horizon (well, that happened several times during my visit).
I registered and went up (or is it down?) to my room. What greeted me was a simple but elegant décor that was reminiscent of how humans imagined futuristic rooms in the late 20th Century. I asked the assistant to open the curtain, and what was revealed to me was an incredible panoramic view of our beautiful blue orb. Look ma, there’s our house! Amazing view, check.
I went over to check the facilities, passing by the stationary lounge, which is perfect when you get a bit too disoriented and need a drink and a break from the slow rotation of the hotel. The hotel has all manner of specialized contraptions that let you get a full zero-g spa experience, whether it is a massage administered by an expert android or a jacuzzi sphere, where you’ll need to wear a specialized helmet to hop into the hot water bubbling in all directions.
As I reached the 314 restaurant, also known as Pi in the Sky, I was greeted by a server who asked me whether I would like to sit in the gravity, low gravity, or microgravity section. I felt in this instance that I didn’t want to chase my food around, so I opted for the safe choice of gravity.
I won’t tire you with overly colorful descriptions about the food, which was OK. The first course of humous with caramelized onions was something you could get on the street corner in New York, and the synth-lobster was buttery, but bland. But finally, the pie came (or is it the PI?). I have had a few pies in my day, but this savory, salty, sweet, orgasmic pie, is like nothing I’ve ever tasted. I really can’t describe what was in it or how it was made. It was almost as though nano-robots had entered my brain and stimulated my basal ganglia over and over again. Yes, riding, the space elevator was fun (the ride back less so), but I don’t care if you take a horse-drawn carriage, you need to try the pie at 314.