Rama 3 – The Garden of Rama by Clarke, Arthur C.

“Katie,” Eponine said, “I don’t think that’s entirely appropriate—”

Nicole walked into the room and Eponine fell silent. “Why, Mother,” Katie said, “how beautiful you look. I had forgotten that there was a woman lurking behind those judge’s robes.”

Katie expelled smoke into the air and took a drink from the champagne bottle on the counter beside her. “So here we are,” she said with a flourish, “about to witness the marriage of my 5aby sister—”

“Stop it, Katie, you’ve had too much to drink.” Ni-cole’s voice was cold and hard. She picked up the champagne and Katie’s pack of cigarettes. “Just finish dressing and stop the clowning. You can have these back after the ceremony.”

“Okay, Judge . . . whatever you say,” Katie said, inhaling deeply and blowing out smoke rings. She grinned at the other ladies. Then, as Katie reached for the waste-basket to flick the ash off her cigarette, she lost her balance. Katie fell painfully against the counter, hitting several open bottles of cosmetics before landing on the

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floor in a mess. Eponine and Ellie both rushed over to help her.

“Are you all right?” Ellie asked.

“Watch out for your dress, Ellie,” Nicole said, looking disapprovingly at Katie sprawled on the floor. Nicole grabbed some paper towels and began cleaning up what Katie had spilled.

“Yeah, Ellie,” Katie said sarcastically a few seconds later, when she was again standing up. “Watch out for that dress. You want to be absolutely spotless when you marry your double murderer.”

Nobody breathed in the room. Nicole was livid. She approached Katie and then stood directly in front of her. “Apologize to your sister,” she ordered.

“I will not,” Katie replied defiantly just moments before Nicole’s open hand landed on her cheek. Tears burst into Katie’s eyes. “Ah-hah,” she said, wiping at her face, “it’s New Eden’s most famous slapper. Only two days after resorting to physical violence in Central City Square, she strikes her own daughter in a replay of her most famous deed—”

“Mother, don’t . . . please,” Ellie interrupted, fearing that Nicole would slap Katie again.

Nicole turned around and looked at the distraught bride. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“That’s right,” said Katie angrily. “Tell her you’re sorry. I’m the one you hit, Judge. Remember me? Your older, unmarried daughter? The one you called ‘disgusting’ only three weeks ago yesterday. . . . You told me that my friends were ‘sleazy and immoral’—are those the exact words?—yet your precious Ellie, that paragon of virtue, you hand over to a double murderer . . . with another murderer as a bridesmaid to boot.”

All of the women realized at roughly the same moment that Katie was not just drunk and truculent. She was deeply disturbed. Her wild eyes condemned them all as she continued her rambling diatribe.

She is drowning, Nicole said to herself, and crying desperately for help. Not only have I ignored her cries, I have pushed her deeper into the water.

“Katie,” Nicole said quietly, “I’m sorry. I acted fool-

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ishly and without thought.” She walked toward her daughter with her arms outstretched.

“No,” Katie replied, pushing her mother’s arms away. “No, no, no … I don’t want your pity.” She moved back toward the door. “In fact, I don’t want to be in this goddamn wedding. … I don’t belong here. Good luck, little sister. Tell me someday how the handsome doctor is in bed.”

Katie turned around and stumbled through the door. Both Ellie and Nicole were silently weeping as she left.

Nicole tried to concentrate on the wedding, but her heart was heavy after the untoward scene with Katie. She helped Ellie put on her makeup again, repeatedly chastising herself for having responded angrily to Katie.

Just before the ceremony started, Nicole returned to the men’s dressing room and informed them that Katie had decided not to be in the wedding. She then peeked briefly at the gathering crowd, noticing that there were about a dozen biots already seated. My goodness, Nicole thought, we weren’t specific enough in the invitations. It was not abnormal for some of the colonists to bring their Lincolns or Tiassos with them to special functions, especially if they had children. Before she returned to the bride’s dressing room, Nicole fretted momentarily about whether or not there would be enough seats for everybody.

Moments later, or so it seemed, the bridal party was gathered on the stage around Judge Mishkin and the music announced the arrival of the bride. Like everyone else, Nicole turned around and looked to the back of the theater. There was her gorgeous youngest daughter, resplendent in her white dress with the red trim, coming down the aisle on Richard’s arm. Nicole fought back the tears, but when she saw big drops glistening on the cheeks of the bride, she could control herself no longer. / love you, my Ellie, Nicole said to herself. How I hope that you will be happy.

Judge Mishkin had prepared an eclectic ceremony at the couple’s request. It praised the love of a man and a woman, and talked about how important their bond was in the proper creation of a family. His words counseled tolerance, patience, and selflessness. He offered a nonde-

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nominational prayer, invoking God to “call forth” from the bride and groom that “compassion and understanding that ennobles the human species.”

The ceremony was short, but elegant. Dr. Turner and Ellie exchanged rings and recited their vows with strong, positive voices. They turned to Judge Mishkin and he placed their hands together. “With the authority granted me by the colony of New Eden, I pronounce Robert Turner and Eleanor Wakefield husband and wife.”

As Dr. Turner was gently lifting Ellie’s veil for die traditional kiss, a shot rang out, followed an instant later by another. Judge Mishkin pitched forward on the bridal couple, blood spurting from his forehead. Kenji Watanabe collapsed beside him. Eponine dove between the bridal couple and the guests as a third and fourth shots were heard. Everyone was screaming. There was chaos in the theater.

Two more shots followed in rapid succession. In the third row Max Puckett finally disarmed the Lincoln biot that had been the gunman. Max had turned around almost instantly, as soon as he had heard the first shot, and had leapt over the chairs a second later. However, the Lincoln biot, who had risen from its seat at the word wife, fired its automatic gun a total of six times before Max subdued it completely.

Blood was a!l over the stage. Nicole crawled over and examined Governor Watanabe. He was already dead. Dr. Turner cradled Judge Mishkin as the gracious old man closed his eyes for the final time. The third bullet had apparently been intended for Dr. Turner, for Eponine had caught it in her side after her frantic dive to save the bride and groom.

Nicole picked up the microphone that had fallen with Judge Mishkin. “Ladies and gentlemen. This is a terrible, terrible tragedy. Please do not panic. I believe there is no more danger. Please just hold your places until we can tend to the injured.”

The final four bullets had not done too much damage. Eponine was bleeding, but her condition was not critical. Max had struck the Lincoln just before it fired the fourth bullet, almost certainly saving Nicole’s life, since that par-

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ticular bullet had missed her by only centimeters. Two of the guests had been grazed by the final shots as the Lincoln was falling.

Richard joined Max and Patrick, who were restraining the killer biot. “He won’t answer a single goddamn question,” Max said.

Richard looked at the Lincoln’s shoulder. The biot was number 333. “Take him into the back,” Richard said. “I want to look at him later.”

On the stage Nai Watanabe was sitting on her knees, holding the head of her beloved Kenji on her lap. Her body was trembling with deep, desperate sobs. Beside her the twins Galileo and Kepler were wailing with fright. Ellie, blood all over her wedding dress, was trying to comfort the little boys.

Dr. Turner was attending to Eponine. “An ambulance should be here in just a few minutes,” he said after dressing her wound. He kissed her on the forehead. “There’s no way that Ellie and I can ever thank you for what you did.”

Nicole was down with the guests, making certain that neither of the bystanders who had been struck by bullets was seriously injured. She was about to return to the microphone and tell everyone that they could begin to leave when a hysterical colonist burst into the theater.

“An Einstein has gone mad,” he shouted before surveying the scene in front of him. “Ulanov and Judge lannella are both dead.”

“We should both leave. And now,” Richard said. “But even if you won’t, Nicole, I am going to go. I know too much about the three-hundred-series biots—and what Nakamura’s people have done to change them. They’ll be after me tonight or in the morning.”