Arthur Clarke - Rama Revealed

The underbelly of the Carrier had an external surface of metallic gray. It extended below the plane about a kilometer, with gently sloping sides and a rounded bottom. From a distance the underbelly looked insignificant compared to the vast flat surface which was at least forty kilometers long and fifteen kilometers wide. However, up close it was clear that an enormous volume was contained inside that drab structure.

As Nicole watched in fascination, a small indentation in the side of the gray exterior, just below the surface, expanded and grew into a round tube moving outward from the Carrier. The tube drew near to the starfish and then, after some minor further corrections, was affixed to the main air lock.

She felt a touch on her arm and turned to the side. It was Dr. Blue. “How are you feeling?” the octospider said in color.

“Better now,” Nicole replied. “But I had some bad moments earlier this afternoon.”

Dr. Blue scanned Nicole with the monitoring device. “There were at least two major irregularities,” Nicole told her doctor. “I remember both of them quite clearly.”

The octospider doctor studied the colors flashing on the small monitor. “Why didn’t you call me?” she said.

“I thought about it,” Nicole answered. “But so much was going on. And I figured you were busy with your own—”

Dr. Blue handed Nicole a small flask containing a light blue liquid. “Drink this,” the octospider said. “It will limit your cardiac response to emotional stress over the next twelve hours.”

“And will we still be together, you and I,” Nicole asked, “after the Carrier departs? I didn’t study your part of the list very carefully.”

“Yes,” Dr. Blue answered. “Eighty-five percent of our species will be transferred to the Node. More than half the octospiders moving to the Carrier are alternates.”

“So, my friend,” Nicole said after drinking the liquid, “what do you make of all this transfer business?”

“Our best guess,” Dr. Blue said, “is that this entire experiment has reached a significant branch point and that the two groups will be involved in radically different activities.”

Nicole laughed. “That’s not very specific,” she said.

“No, it’s not,” the octospider calmly agreed.

There were eighty-two humans and nine octospiders present in the cafeteria when the Eagle convened the reconsideration meeting five minutes after the last starfish resident originally scheduled for transfer to the Carrier had departed through the air lock. Only those who had officially requested reconsideration were permitted to attend the meeting. Many other members of all species were still lingering on the observation deck and in the common areas, talking about the departure procession and/or waiting to learn the outcome of the Eagle’s meeting.

Nicole had returned to her post at the observation window. She was sitting in her wheelchair, staring out at the Carrier and reflecting on the scenes she had witnessed during the last hour. Most of the departing humans had been in a festive mood, openly delighted that they would no longer be living among aliens. There had been some sad farewells at the door to the air lock, but actually surprisingly few.

Galileo had been allowed to spend ten minutes with his family and friends in the common area. Patrick and Nai had assured the young man, who had demonstrated very little emotion of any kind, that they and his brother, Kepler, who was still packing, would be joining him in the Carrier before the evening was over.

Galileo had been one of the last humans to leave the starfish. He had been followed by the small contingent of avians and myrmicats. The neural net material and, the remaining manna melons had been packed in large crates and had been carried by a contingent of the block robots. I’ll probably never see any of your kind again, Nicole had thought as the trailing avian had turned and issued a shriek of good-bye to the onlookers.

“Each of you,” the Eagle said as he began the meeting in the cafeteria, “has requested that your assignment be reconsidered and that you be allowed to switch your future home from the Node to the Carrier. At this time I want to explain two additional differences between the living environments in the Carrier and the Node. If, after weighing this new information, you still wish to have your assignment changed, then we will accommodate you.

“As I told you this afternoon, there will be no interspecies mixing in the Carrier. Not only will each species be isolated in its own habitat, but also there will be no interference of any kind by any other intelligence, including the one I represent, in the affairs of each species. Not now, not ever. Each species in the Carrier will be on its own. By contrast, life in the interspecies world at the Node will be supervised. Not as heavily as it has been here on the starfish, but supervised nevertheless. We believe that oversight and monitoring are essential when different species are living together.

“The second additional factor may be the most important of all. There will be no reproduction in the Carrier. All of the individuals who inhabit the Carrier, of every species, will be rendered forever sterile. Every element necessary for a long and happy life will be provided for those living in the Carrier, but nobody will be allowed to reproduce. By contrast, there will be no reproduction constraints imposed at the Node.

“Please let me finish,” the Eagle said as several members of the audience tried to interrupt with questions. “You each have two more hours to decide. If you still want to transfer to the Carrier, simply bring the bags you have already packed and request Big Block to open the air lock.”

Nicole was not surprised that Kepler no longer wanted to switch to the Carrier. The young man had clearly had a difficult time making up his mind in the first place and had only requested reconsideration out of loyalty to his mother. Since that time, he had spent most of the afternoon with Maria, whom he obviously adored.

Kepler enlisted everyone in the extended family in case there was an argument with his mother, but no dispute developed. Nai agreed that Kepler should not be deprived of the pleasure of being a father. Nai even magnanimously suggested that Patrick might want to reevaluate his own decision, but her husband was quick to point out that she was past her childbearing years and, besides, he had already been a father, in many ways, to Galileo and Kepler.

Nicole, Patrick, Nai, and Kepler were left alone in one of the apartments for the very final good-byes. It had been a day of tears and raging emotions. All four of them were emotionally exhausted. Two mothers said good-bye, forever, to two sons. There was a touching symmetry in the final comments. Nai requested that Nicole guide Kepler with her wisdom; Nicole asked Nai to continue to give Patrick her unselfish, unconditional love.

Patrick then lifted both the heavy bags and threw them over his shoulders. As Nai and he walked out the door, Kepler stood beside Nicole’s wheelchair, holding her phthisic hand. Only after the door closed did the river of tears run from Nicole’s eyes. Good-bye, Patrick, she thought with a heartache. Good-bye, Genevieve, Simone, and Katie. Goodbye, Richard.

The dreams came one after another, sometimes without any break, Henry laughed at her for being black, then a supercilious colleague from medical school stopped her from making a bad mistake during a routine tonsillectomy. Later Nicole walked on a sandy beach with dark clouds hovering overhead. A silent caped figure beckoned in the distance. That’s death, Nicole said to herself in the dream. But it was a cruel joke. When she reached the figure and touched its outstretched hand, Max Puckett removed his cape and laughed.