“It came back on only briefly, while we were talking on the radio a few minutes later, but several seconds after our last conversation the signal was gone for good. The signature suggested a hardware failure to me. I thought Prince Hal had malfunctioned. When Francesca said that you had been with her up until the plaza, then I was virtually certain that Prince Hal—”
Nicole had only been listening with one ear but she bolted to attention when Richard mentioned Francesca. “Stop,” Nicole interrupted, holding up her hand. “What did you say she told you?”
“That you and she had left the bam together and that you had walked away from her several minutes later to look for Takagishi—”
“That’s complete bullshit,” Nicole said.
“What do you mean?” Richard asked.
“It’s a lie. An absolute and total untruth. I fell into that pit I told you about while Francesca was there, or at least no more than a minute after she left. She never saw me again.”
Richard thought for a moment. “That explains why Falstaff lost you. You were in the barn all that time and the signal was blocked.” Now it was his turn to be puzzled. “But why would Francesca make up such a story?”
That’s what I would like to know, Nicole thought to herself. She must have poisoned Borzov on purpose. Otherwise why would she deliberately…
“Was there something between the two of you?” Richard was saying. “I always thought I detected—”
“Probably some jealousy,” Nicole interrupted, “going both ways. Francesca and I are light years apart.”
“You can say that again,” Richard said with a chuckle. “I’ve spent the better part of a year giving off signals that I find you intelligent and interesting and attractive. Yet I’ve never received anything but a restrained and courteous professional response. Francesca, on the other hand, notices if you happen to even glance at her.”
“There are other, more substantive differences,” Nicole replied, not altogether displeased that Richard had finally verbalized his interest in her as a woman.
There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Nicole glanced at her watch. “But I don’t want to spend any more time talking about Francesca Sabatini,” she said, “it’s going to be dark again in an hour and we have an escape from this island to plan. We also have certain, uh, logistical issues to address, such as food, water, and other unmentionable items that made confinement in a small pit reasonably disgusting.”
“I brought a portable hut — if we need one.”
“That’s great!” Nicole replied. “I’ll remember that when it rains.” She reached automatically into her backpack for some manna melon but did not pull it out. “By the way,” she said to Richard, “did you bring any human food?”
The hut came in handy when they were ready for sleep. They decided to pitch it just to the side of the central plaza. Nicole felt safer being close to the avians. In some sense they were her friends and they might help if an emergency arose. They were also the only known source of food. Between them, Richard and Nicole had barely enough food and water to last for another two Raman days.
Nicole had not objected to Richard’s suggestion that they share the hut. He had gallantly offered to sleep outside, “if that would make you more comfortable,” but the huts were plenty large enough for two sleeping mats as long as there were no other furnishings. Lying about half a meter apart made their conversation very easy. Nicole gave a detailed rendition of her hours alone, omitting only the part about the vial and the vision. That was too personal for her to share. Richard was fascinated by her entire story and absolutely intrigued by the avians.
“I mean, look,” he said, propping his head up on his elbow, “try to figure out how the hell they got here. From what you’ve said, except for that tank sentinel — and I completely agree with you that it’s an anomaly — they’re no more advanced than prehistoric man. What a boggle it would be to learn their secret.
“You can’t rule out completely that they’re biots,” he continued, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. “They might not be impressive as biology, but Jesus, as artificial intelligence they would be state of the art.” He sat up on his mat. “Just think about what it would mean either way. We must find out all these answers. You’re a linguist — maybe you could learn to talk to them.”
Nicole was amused. “Has it occurred to you, Richard,” she asked, “that all of this discussion will be academic if nobody ever rescues us?”
“A couple of times,” Richard said with a laugh. He was lying down again. “That damn Heilmann took me aside, right before I came back inside Rama, and told me that I was acting “in violation of all procedures” by returning here. He promised me that they would not come after me under any circumstances.”
“So why did you come back?”
“I’m not completely certain,” he said slowly. “I know I wanted to pick up Falstaff and see if, by some wild happenstance, he had ever received any more signals from your beacon. But I think there were other reasons. The mission was becoming more politics than science. It was obvious to me that the bureaucrats on Earth were going to abort the mission, “for security reasons,” and the crew was not going to return to Rama. I knew the political discussions would continue for another day or two.” He paused a second. “And I wanted one last look at the most incredible sight of my life.”
Nicole was quiet for a moment. “You obviously weren’t afraid,” she said softly, “because you show no sign of fear even now. Doesn’t the thought of being left to die onboard Rama bother you at all?”
“A little,” Richard answered. “But dying in an exciting situation is much better than living in a boring one.” Again he propped himself up on his elbow. “I have been looking forward to this mission for three years. I thought from the beginning that I had a good chance of being selected. Except for my robots and Shakespeare, there is nothing in my life but my work. I have no family or friends to think of…”
His voice trailed off. “And I’m as much afraid of going back as I am of dying. At least Richard Wakefield, Newton cosmonaut, has a clearly defined purpose.” He started to say something else but stopped himself. Richard lay back down and closed his eyes.
43
EXOBIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY
There’s another reason not to give up hope,” Richard said cheerfully as soon as he saw Nicole open her eyes, “and I forgot to mention it last night.”
Nicole had always awakened very slowly. Even as a child. She liked to savor the last part of her dream state before confronting harsh reality. At home Genevieve and Pierre both knew not to talk to her about anything important until after she had had her morning coffee. She blinked at Richard, who was shining his small flashlight in the gap between them.
“This space vehicle is now headed for the Earth,” he said. “Even if the Newton leaves, there might be another human spacecraft here sooner or later.”
“What’s that?” Nicole said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
“In all the excitement last night,” Richard replied, “I left out one of the most important points. The maneuver — I guess you missed it because you were unconscious at the bottom of that pit — put Rama on an Earth impact course. That made our evacuation imperative.”
Richard noticed that Nicole was staring at him as if he had lost his mind. “The spaceship is still on a hyperbola with respect to the Sun,” he clarified, “but it’s blasting full speed toward the Earth. We will impact in twenty-three days.”
“Richard,” Nicole said, longing intensely for that fresh cup of coffee, “I do not like jokes early in the morning. If you have spent your energy making up-”