Rama 2 by Arthur C. Clarke and Gentry Lee

They climbed onboard the ferry and activated the transportation module. The vast darkness of Rama retreated behind them as they eased through the lighted corridor toward the Newton.

“It was a very strange sound,” Richard said. “It really gave me the chills. I have no idea if it was a new sound, or if maybe Norton and his team heard the same thing seventy years ago. But I do know that I had a bad case of the willies while I was standing there on the wall.”

“Francesca was even pissed off at Brown at first. She wanted to do a feature interview with Shig for her nightly report. Brown talked her out of it, but I’m not certain he completely convinced her that strange noises are not news. Luckily she had enough of a story with just the lights going out.”

The two men descended from the ferry and approached the air lock. “Whew,” said Janos. “I’m bushed. It has been a couple of long and hectic days.”

“Yeah,” Richard agreed. “We thought we would be spending the next two nights at the campsite. Instead we’re back up here. I wonder what surprises are in store for us tomorrow.”

Janos smiled at his friend. “You know what’s funny about all this?” he said. He did not wait for Wakefield to answer. “Brown really believes he’s in charge of this mission. Did you see how he reacted when Takagishi sug­gested that we could explore New York in the dark? Brown probably thinks it was his decision for us to return to the Newton and abort the first sortie.”

Richard looked at Janos with a quizzical smile. “It wasn’t, of course,” Janos continued. “Rama made the decision for us to leave. And Rama will decide what we do next.”

25 A FRIEND IN NEED

In his dream he was lying on a futon in a seventeenth century ryokan. The room was very large, nine tatami mats in all. To his left, in the yard on the other side of the open screen, was a perfect miniaturized garden with tiny trees and a manicured stream. He was waiting for a young woman.

“Takagishi-san, are you awake?”

He stirred and reached out for the communicator. “Hello,” he said, his voice betraying his grogginess. “Who is it?”

“Nicole des Jardins,” the voice said. “I’m sorry to call you so early, but I need to see you. It’s urgent.”

“Give me three minutes,” Takagishi said,

There was a knock on his door exactly three minutes later. Nicole greeted him and entered the room. She was carrying a data cube. “Do you mind?” she said, pointing to the computer console. Takagishi shook his head.

“Yesterday there were half a dozen separate incidents,” Nicole said gravely, pointing at some blips on the monitor, “including the two largest aberrations I have ever seen in your heart data.” She looked at him. “Are you certain that you and your doctor provided me with complete historical records?”

Takagishi nodded.

“Then I have reason for concern,” she continued. “The irregularities yes­terday suggest that your chronic diastolic abnormality has worsened. Perhaps the valve has sprung a new leak. Perhaps the long periods of weight­lessness—”

“Or perhaps,” Takagishi interrupted with a soft smile, “I became overly excited and my extra adrenaline aggravated the problem.”

Nicole stared at the Japanese scientist. “That’s possible, Dr. Takagishi. One of the major incidents occurred just after the lights went out. I guess it was when you were listening to your strange sound.”

“And the other, by chance, could it have been during my argument with Dr. Brown in the campsite? If so, that would support my hypothesis.”

Cosmonaut des Jardins touched several keys on the console and her soft­ware entered a new subroutine. She studied the data displayed on two sides of a split screen. “Yes,” she said, “it looks right. The second incident took place twenty minutes before we started leaving Rama. That would have been toward the end of the meeting.” She moved away from the monitor. “But I can’t dismiss the bizarre behavior of your heart just because you were ex­cited.”

They stared at each other for several long seconds. “What are you trying to tell me, Doctor?” Takagishi said softly. “Are you going to confine me to my quarters on the Newton? Now, at the most significant moment in my professional career?”

“I’m considering it,” Nicole answered directly. “Your health is more im­portant to me than your career. I’ve already lost one member of the crew. I’m not certain that I could forgive myself if I lost another.”

She saw the entreaty in her colleague’s face. “I know how critical these sorties into Rama are to you. I’m trying to find some kind of rationalization that will allow me to overlook yesterday’s data.” Nicole sat down at the far end of the bed and looked away. “But as a doctor, not a Newton cosmonaut, it’s very very tough.”

She heard Takagishi approach and felt his hand gently on her shoulder. “1 know how difficult it has been for you these last few days,” he said. “But it was not your fault. All of us are aware that General Borzov’s death was unavoidable.”

Nicole recognized the respect and friendship in Takagishi’s gaze. She thanked him with her eyes, “I very much appreciate what you did for me before launch,” he continued. “If you feel compelled to limit my activities now, I will not object.”

“Dammit,” said Nicole, standing up quickly, “it’s not that simple. I’ve been studying your overnight data for almost an hour. Look at this. Your chart for the last ten hours is perfectly normal. There’s not a trace of any anomaly. And you had had no incidents for weeks. Until yesterday. What is it with you, Shig? Do you have a bad heart? Or just a weird one?”

Takagishi smiled. “My wife told me once that I had a strange heart. But I think she was referring to something altogether different.”

Nicole activated her scanner and displayed the data on the monitor in real-time. “There we are again”—she shook her head—”the signature of a perfectly healthy heart. No cardiologist in the world would argue with my conclusion.” She moved toward the door.

“So what’s the verdict, Doc?” Takagishi asked.

“I haven’t decided,” she answered. “You could help. Have another one of your incidents in the next few hours and make it easy for me.” She waved good-bye. “See you at breakfast.”

Richard Wakefield was coming out of his room as Nicole headed down the hall after leaving Takagishi. She made a spontaneous decision to talk to him about the RoSur software.

“Good morning, princess,” he said as he approached. “What are you doing awake at this hour? Something exciting, I hope.”

“As a matter of fact,” Nicole replied in the same playful tone, “I was coming to talk to you.” He stopped to listen. “Do you have a minute?”

“For you, Madame Doctor,” he answered with an exaggerated smile, “I have two minutes. But no more. Mind you, I’m hungry. And if I am not fed quickly when I’m hungry, I turn into an awful ogre.” Nicole laughed. “What’s on your mind?” he added lightly.

“Could we go into your room?” she asked.

“I knew it. I knew it,” he said, spinning around and sliding quickly toward his door. “It’s finally happened, just like in my dreams. An intelligent, beau­tiful woman is going to declare her undying affection—”

Nicole could not suppress a chortle. “Wakefield,” she interrupted, still grinning, “you are hopeless. Are you never serious? I have some business to discuss with you.”

“Oh, darn,” Richard said dramatically. “Business. In that case I’m going to limit you to the two minutes I allocated you earlier. Business also makes me hungry . . . and grumpy.”

Richard Wakefield opened the door to his room and waited for Nicole to enter. He offered her the chair in front of his computer monitor and sat down behind her on the bed. She turned around to face him. On the shelf above his bed were a dozen tiny figurines similar to the ones she had seen before in Tabori’s room and at the Borzov banquet.

“Allow me to introduce you to some of my menagerie,” Richard said, noticing her curiosity. “You’ve met Lord and Lady Macbeth, Puck, and Bottom. This matched pair is Tybalt and Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet Next to them are Iago and Othello, followed by Prince Hal, Falstaff, and the wonderful Mistress Quickly. The last one on the right is my closest friend, The Bard, or TB for short.”

As Nicole watched, Richard activated a switch near the head of his bed and TB climbed down a ladder from the shelf to the bed. The twenty-centimeter-nigh robot carefully navigated the folds in the bed coverings and came over to greet Nicole.

“And what be your name, fair lady?” TB said.

“I am Nicole des Jardins,” she replied.

“Sounds French,” the robot said immediately. “But you don’t look French. At least not Valois.” The robot appeared to be staring at her. “You look more like a child of Othello and Desdemona.”