Arthur Clarke - 2010 - Odyssey Two

After a while, he announced to the silently waiting group:

'Discovery's gone.'

No one looked at Dr Chandra; but there were a few muted words of sympathy, as if in consolation to a father who had just lost a son.

But Hal had one last surprise for them.

The radio message beamed to Earth must have left Discovery only minutes before the blast of radiation engulfed the ship. It was in plain text and merely repeated over and over again:

ALL THESE WORLDS ARE YOURS – EXCEPT EUROPA.

ATTEMPT NO LANDINGS THERE.

There were about a hundred repetitions; then the letters became garbled, and the transmission ceased.

'I begin to understand,' said Floyd, when the message had been relayed by an awed and anxious Mission Control.

'That's quite a parting present – a new sun, and the planets around it.'

'But why only three?' asked Tanya.

'Let's not be greedy,' Floyd replied. 'I can think of one very good reason. We know there's life on Europa. Bowman – or his friends, whoever they may be – want us to leave it alone.'

'That makes good sense in another way,' said Vasili. 'I've been doing some calculations. Assuming that Sol 2 has settled down and will continue to radiate at its present level, Europa should have a nice tropical climate – when the ice has melted. Which it's doing pretty quickly right now.'

'What about the other moons?'

'Ganymede will be quite pleasant – the dayside will be temperate. Callisto will be very cold; though if there's much outgassing, the new atmosphere may make it habitable. But Io will be even worse than it is now, I expect.'

'No great loss. It was hell even before this happened.'

'Don't write off Io,' said Curnow. 'I know a lot of Texarab oilmen who'd love to tackle it, just on general principles. There must be something valuable, in a place as nasty as that. And by the way, I've just had a rather disturbing thought.'

'Anything that disturbs you must be serious,' said Vasili. 'What is it?'

'Why did Hal send that message to Earth, and not to us? We were much closer.'

There was a rather long silence; then Floyd said thoughtfully: 'I see what you mean. Perhaps he wanted to make certain it was received on Earth.'

'But he knew we would relay it – oh!' Tanya's eyes widened, as if she had just become aware of something unpleasant.

'You've lost me,' complained Vasili.

'I think this is what Walter's driving at,' said Floyd. 'It's all very well to feel grateful to Bowman – or whatever gave that warning. But that's all they did. We could still have been killed.'

'But we weren't,' answered Tanya. 'We saved ourselves – by our own efforts. And perhaps that was the whole idea. If we hadn't – we wouldn't have been worth saving. You know, survival of the fittest. Darwinian selection. Eliminating the genes for stupidity.'

'I've an unpleasant feeling you're right,' said Curnow. 'And if we'd stuck to our launch date, and not used Discovery as a booster, would it, or they, have done anything to save us? That wouldn't have required much extra effort for an intelligence that could blow up Jupiter.'

There was an uneasy silence, broken at last by Heywood Floyd.

'On the whole,' he said, 'I'm very glad that's one question we'll never get answered.'

The Russians, thought Floyd, are going to miss Walter's songs and wisecracks on the way home. After the excitement of the last few days, the long fall Sunward – and Earthward – will seem a monotonous anticlimax. But a monotonous, uneventful trip was what everyone devoutly hoped for.

He was already feeling sleepy, but was still aware of his surroundings and capable of reacting to them. Will I look as dead when I'm in hibernation? he asked himself. It was always disconcerting to look at another person – especially someone very familiar – when he had entered the long sleep.

Perhaps it was too poignant a reminder of one's own mortality.

Curnow was completely out, but Chandra was still awake, though already groggy from the final injection. He was obviously no longer himself, for he seemed quite unperturbed by his own nakedness or Katerina's watchful presence. The gold lingam that was his only article of clothing kept trying to float away from him, until its chain recaptured it.

'Everything going okay, Katerina?' asked Floyd.

'Perfectly. But how I envy you. In twenty minutes, you'll be home.'

'If that's any consolation – how can you be sure we won't have some horrible dreams?'

'No one's ever reported any.'

'Ah – they may forget them when they wake up.'

Katerina, as usual, took him quite seriously. 'Impossible. If there were dreams in hibernation, the EEG records would have revealed them. Okay, Chandra – close your eyes. Ah – there he goes. Now it's your turn, Heywood. The ship will seem very strange without you.'

'Thanks, Katerina... hope you have a nice trip.'

Drowsy though he was, Floyd became aware that Surgeon-Commander Rudenko seemed a little uncertain, even – could it be? – shy. It looked as if she wanted to tell him something, but couldn't make up her mind.

'What is it, Katerina?' he said sleepily.

'I haven't told anyone else yet – but you certainly won't be talking. Here's a little surprise.'

'You'd... better... hurry...'

'Max and Zenia are going to get married.'

'That... is... supposed... to... be... a... surprise?...'

'No. It's just to prepare you. When we get back to Earth, so are Walter and I. What do you think of that?'

Now I understand why you were spending so much time together. Yes, it is indeed a surprise... who would have thought it!

'I'm... very... happy... to... hear...'

Floyd's voice faded out before he could complete the sentence. But he was not yet unconscious, and was still able to focus some of his dissolving intellect on this new situation.

I really don't believe it, he said to himself. Walter will probably change his mind before he wakes up.

And then he had one final thought, just before he went to sleep himself. If Walter does change his mind, he'd better not wake up.

Dr Heywood Floyd thought that was very funny. The rest of the crew often wondered why he was smiling all the way back to Earth.

Fifty times more brilliant than the full Moon, Lucifer had transformed the skies of Earth, virtually banishing night for months at a time. Despite its sinister connotations, the name was inevitable; and indeed 'Light-bringer' had brought evil as well as good. Only the centuries and the millennia would show in which direction the balance tilted.

On the credit side, the end of night had vastly extended the scope of human activity, especially in the less-developed countries. Everywhere, the need for artificial lighting had been substantially reduced, with resulting huge savings in electrical power. It was as if a giant lamp had been hoisted into space, to shine upon half the globe. Even in daytime Lucifer was a dazzling object, casting distinct shadows.

Farmers, mayors; city managers, police, seamen, and almost all those engaged in outdoor activities – especially in remote areas – welcomed Lucifer; it had made their lives much safer and easier. But it was hated by lovers, criminals, naturalists, and astronomers.

The first two groups found their activities seriously restricted, while naturalists were concerned about Lucifer's impact upon animal life. Many nocturnal creatures had been seriously affected, while others had managed to adapt. The Pacific grunion, whose celebrated mating pattern was locked to high tides and moonless nights, was in grave trouble, and seemed to be heading for rapid extinction.