Cars, planes, airports and hotel rooms all share a single sound: that constant tv-show-spaceship susurrus of air-conditioning. So many hotels seem to embrace the metaphor. It’s not a serviced room in a communal space you rent. It’s an excursion pod, a lander, a module from which you can view the alien vista outside. The more you pay, the bigger the module, the more chance there is of having a view of something other than the bins out back. Suit up and EVA out into this hellish new landscape you’ve braved speed, altitude and shitty food to reach. Try not to let your feet touch the ground.

 

Reading: CIBOLA BURN, James SA Corey.