Arthur Clarke - 2010 - Odyssey Two

'Eight minutes to ignition. All systems nominal. Dr Chandra – may I make a suggestion?'

'What is it, Hal?'

'This is a very unusual phenomenon. Do you not think I should abort the countdown, so that you can remain to study it?'

Aboard Leonov, Floyd started to move quickly toward the bridge. Tanya and Vasili might be needing him. Not to mention Chandra and Curnow – what a situation! And suppose Chandra took Hal's side? If he did – they might both be right! After all, was this not the very reason they had come here?

If they stopped the countdown, the ships would loop around Jupiter and be back at precisely the same spot in nineteen hours. A nineteen-hour hold would create no problems; if it was not for that enigmatic warning, he would have strongly recommended it himself.

But they had very much more than a warning. Below them was a planetary plague spreading across the face of Jupiter. Perhaps they were indeed running away from the most extraordinary phenomenon in the history of science. Even so, he preferred to study it from a safer distance.

'Six minutes to ignition,' said Hal. 'All systems nominal. I am ready to stop the countdown if you agree. Let me remind you that my prime directive is to study everything in Jupiter space that may be connected with intelligence.'

Floyd recognized that phrase all too well: he had written it himself. He wished he could delete it from Hal's memory.

A moment later, he had reached the bridge and joined the Orlovs. They both looked at him with alarmed concern.

'What do you recommend?' asked Tanya swiftly.

'It's up to Chandra, I'm afraid. Can I speak to him – on the private line?'

Vasili handed over the microphone.

'Chandra? I assume that Hal can't hear this?'

'Correct, Dr Floyd.'

'You've got to talk quickly. Persuade him that the countdown must continue, that we appreciate his – er, scientific enthusiasm – ah, that's the right angle – say we're confident that he can do the job without our help. And we'll be in touch with him all the time, of course.'

'Five minutes to ignition. All systems nominal. I am still waiting for your answer, Dr Chandra.'

So are we all, thought Curnow, only a metre away from the scientist. And if I do have to push that button at last, it will be something of a relief. In fact, I'll rather enjoy it.

'Very well, Hal. Continue the countdown. I have every confidence in your ability to study all phenomena in Jupiter space, without our supervision. Of course, we will be in touch with you at all times.'

'Four minutes to ignition. All systems nominal. Propellant-tank pressurization completed. Voltage steady on plasma trigger. Are you sure you are making the right decision, Dr Chandra? I enjoy working with human beings and have a stimulating relationship with them. Ship's attitude correct to point one milliradian.'

'We enjoy working with you, Hal. And we will still be doing so, even if we are millions of kilometres away.'

'Three minutes to ignition. All systems nominal, Radiation shielding checked. There is a problem of the time lag, Dr Chandra. It may be necessary to consult each other without any delay.'

This is insane, Curnow thought, his hand now never far from the cut-off switch. I really believe that Hal is – lonely. Is he mimicking some part of Chandra's personality that we never suspected?

The lights flickered, so imperceptibly that only someone familiar with every nuance of Discovery's behaviour would have noticed. It could be good news or bad – the plasma firing sequence starting, or being terminated...

He risked a quick glance at Chandra; the little scientist's face was drawn and haggard, and for almost the first time Curnow felt real sympathy for him as another human being. And he remembered the startling information that Floyd had confided in him – Chandra's offer to stay with the ship, and keep Hal company on the three-year voyage home. He had heard no more of the idea, and presumably it had been quietly forgotten after the warning. But perhaps Chandra was being tempted again; if he was, there was nothing that he could do about it at that stage. There would be no time to make the necessary preparations, even if they stayed on for another orbit and delayed their departure beyond the deadline. Which Tanya would certainly not permit after all that had now happened.

'Hal,' whispered Chandra, so quietly that Curnow could scarcely hear him. 'We have to leave. I don't have time to give you all the reasons, but I can assure you it's true.'

'Two minutes to ignition. All systems nominal. Final sequence started. I am sorry that you are unable to stay. Can you give me some of the reasons, in order of importance?'

'Not in two minutes, Hal. Proceed with the countdown. I will explain everything later. We still have more than an hour together.'

Hal did not answer. The silence stretched on and on. Surely the one-minute announcement was overdue ...

Curnow glanced at the clock. My God, he thought, Hal's missed it! Has he stopped the countdown?

Curnow's hand fumbled uncertainly for the switch. What do I do now? I wish Floyd would say something, dammit, but he's probably afraid of making things worse...

I'll wait until time zero – no, it's not that critical, let's say an extra minute – then I'll zap him and we'll go over to manual...

From far, far away there came a faint, whistling scream, like the sound of a tornado marching just below the edge of the horizon. Discovery started to vibrate; there was the first intimation of returning gravity.

'Ignition,' said Hal. 'Full thrust at T plus fifteen seconds.'

'Thank ,you, Hal,' replied Chandra.

To Heywood Floyd, aboard the suddenly unfamiliar – because no longer weightless – environment of Leonov's flight deck, the sequence of events had seemed more like a classic slow-motion nightmare than reality. Only once before in his life had he known a similar situation, when he had been in the back of a car during an uncontrollable skid. There had been that same sense of utter helplessness – coupled with the thought: This doesn't really matter – it's not actually happening to me.

Now that the firing sequence had started, his mood changed; everything seemed real again. It was working out exactly as they had planned; Hal was guiding them safely back to Earth. With every minute that passed, their future was becoming more secure; Floyd began slowly to relax, even though he remained alert to all that was happening around him.

For the very last time – and when would any man come here again? – he was flying over the nightside of the greatest of planets, encompassing the volume of a thousand Earths. The ships had been rolled so that Leonov was between Discovery and Jupiter, and their view of the mysteriously glimmering cloudscape was not blocked. Even now, dozens of instruments were busily probing and recording; Hal would continue the work when they were gone.

Since the immediate crisis was over, Floyd moved cautiously 'down' from the flight deck-how strange to feel weight again, even if it was only ten kilos! – and joined Zenia and Katerina in the observation lounge. Apart from the very faintest of red emergency lights, it had been completely blacked out so that they could admire the view with unimpaired night vision. He felt sorry for Max Brailovsky and Sasha Kovalev, who were sitting in the airlock, fully suited up, missing the marvellous spectacle. They had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice to cut the straps securing the ships together – if any of the explosive charges failed to operate.

Jupiter filled the entire sky; it was a mere five hundred kilometres away, so they could see only a tiny fraction of its surface – no more than one could see of Earth from an altitude of fifty kilometres. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, most of it reflected from the icy crust of distant Europa, Floyd could make out a surprising amount of detail. There was no colour at the low level of illumination – except for a hint of red here and there – but the banded structure of the clouds was very distinct, and he could see the edge of a small cyclonic storm looking like an oval island covered with snow. The Great Black Spot had long since fallen astern, and they would not see it again until they were well on the way home.