(no subject)
I was strolling through a park when I saw a bright speck in the sky. The speck was slowly growing to a glowing fireball, and then a full-sized alien spaceship, which proceeded to crash about a kilometer away from where I was.
Needless to say, I rushed over to discover a classical flying saucer inside a deep crater. It wasn't very large, maybe fifty meters in diameter; dark brown in colour; with ornate designs on the sides and around the windows. While there was some brush fire around the saucer, the saucer itself looked undamaged.
After some time, a door opened, and a figure emerged. It looked like a giant snail with many small legs, a huge circular back (without a shell), and two long eyes. It looked around, saw me, and crawled forward, speaking in surprisingly good and formal English:
"Pardon to bother you, sir, but could you help me repair my spacecraft?"
"Absolutely," I replied, unsure of how exactly I would be able to undertake such a task.
"Please, do not worry," reassured the alien as if reading my mind, which it very well may have been, "for I am certain your skills are not lacking."
"Thank you?" I replied, unsure of how to proceed.
"The reparations require simply a meter of wire, five kilograms of steel, and a soldering iron. I will provide the solder."
"You're right, that does sound like something I can do. Can you show me what to solder?"
After showing me a small tear in the hull that I did not see before, and making sure that I understood what fragile parts I should avoid touching, the alien asked, "How much time is the cost of your repairs?"
"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand," I replied, trying to parse its sentence.
"I assume that members of your society do not work for free."
"That is true."
"I also assume that you would need to be reimbursed for the materials and your labour," the alien continued, obviously accustomed to providing detailed explanations during interplanetary communications.
"Well, sure."
"Then, how much time will you charge me for your labour?"
"I cannot charge you time, because time is not a currency, it is a measure of... time." I was not sure how to finish that awkward sentence.
"What does your society use to negotiate trade?"
"Money."
"Oh. Oh." The alien paused, obviously taken aback by my response. "Your society uses money. I now understand."
"How do you use time for currency?"
"The purpose of currency is to regulate trade of items of similar value. Instead of trading arbitrary items whose value can increase and decrease at will, our society trades time. The value of time remains constant."
"How does that work?"
"The same as does money. You expend time at work, and you are reimbursed for your effort. You then give your reimbursement to others in exchange for goods and services. Others do the same, creating an economy. Our society trades directly in time. I receive time as reimbursement for my labour; I trade time for goods and services; this is the basis for the economy of my society."
"The overall concept makes sense," I replied. "We do, as a matter of fact, have a saying 'Time is Money.' But how do you actually give or take time?"
"It is apparent that your society does not have the science to understand this operation. Nonetheless, upon completion of reparations, I will give you ten Earth hours. You may use them as you please."
And just as it promised, the alien handed me ten hours, stored inside a small device that looked like a remote control. I watched the flying saucer as it ascended into the sky, becoming a small speck before disappearing from my view completely. I never did figure out what to do with the ten hours stored inside a technology that no one on Earth could comprehend - so I just started carrying the device with me everywhere, as my lucky charm.
Needless to say, I rushed over to discover a classical flying saucer inside a deep crater. It wasn't very large, maybe fifty meters in diameter; dark brown in colour; with ornate designs on the sides and around the windows. While there was some brush fire around the saucer, the saucer itself looked undamaged.
After some time, a door opened, and a figure emerged. It looked like a giant snail with many small legs, a huge circular back (without a shell), and two long eyes. It looked around, saw me, and crawled forward, speaking in surprisingly good and formal English:
"Pardon to bother you, sir, but could you help me repair my spacecraft?"
"Absolutely," I replied, unsure of how exactly I would be able to undertake such a task.
"Please, do not worry," reassured the alien as if reading my mind, which it very well may have been, "for I am certain your skills are not lacking."
"Thank you?" I replied, unsure of how to proceed.
"The reparations require simply a meter of wire, five kilograms of steel, and a soldering iron. I will provide the solder."
"You're right, that does sound like something I can do. Can you show me what to solder?"
After showing me a small tear in the hull that I did not see before, and making sure that I understood what fragile parts I should avoid touching, the alien asked, "How much time is the cost of your repairs?"
"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand," I replied, trying to parse its sentence.
"I assume that members of your society do not work for free."
"That is true."
"I also assume that you would need to be reimbursed for the materials and your labour," the alien continued, obviously accustomed to providing detailed explanations during interplanetary communications.
"Well, sure."
"Then, how much time will you charge me for your labour?"
"I cannot charge you time, because time is not a currency, it is a measure of... time." I was not sure how to finish that awkward sentence.
"What does your society use to negotiate trade?"
"Money."
"Oh. Oh." The alien paused, obviously taken aback by my response. "Your society uses money. I now understand."
"How do you use time for currency?"
"The purpose of currency is to regulate trade of items of similar value. Instead of trading arbitrary items whose value can increase and decrease at will, our society trades time. The value of time remains constant."
"How does that work?"
"The same as does money. You expend time at work, and you are reimbursed for your effort. You then give your reimbursement to others in exchange for goods and services. Others do the same, creating an economy. Our society trades directly in time. I receive time as reimbursement for my labour; I trade time for goods and services; this is the basis for the economy of my society."
"The overall concept makes sense," I replied. "We do, as a matter of fact, have a saying 'Time is Money.' But how do you actually give or take time?"
"It is apparent that your society does not have the science to understand this operation. Nonetheless, upon completion of reparations, I will give you ten Earth hours. You may use them as you please."
And just as it promised, the alien handed me ten hours, stored inside a small device that looked like a remote control. I watched the flying saucer as it ascended into the sky, becoming a small speck before disappearing from my view completely. I never did figure out what to do with the ten hours stored inside a technology that no one on Earth could comprehend - so I just started carrying the device with me everywhere, as my lucky charm.