Rama Omnibus

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Rama Omnibus Page 204

by Arthur C.


  Yasin laughed at his own cleverness and glanced around at the others, soliciting appreciation of his wit.

  Beatrice drew closer to him. “Your simplistic views about our religion remind me of an Alexander Pope couplet,” she said in a friendly tone. “‘A little learning is a dangerous thing; drink deep or taste not the Pierian spring.’ You have not yet drunk deep enough, Mr. al-Kharif… Heaven to the thinking Christian is not a place, it is a concept. It is the promise of the soul living forever in harmony with the universe, surrounded by the fellowship of similar souls. There is no requirement that your heaven be my heaven. God can create as many heavens as He chooses.”

  “Your knowledge of Islam is equally shallow, Sister,” Yasin said sharply. “Just because you can quote a few auras—”

  “I would welcome the opportunity to learn more about your religious views, Mr. al-Kharif,” Sister Beatrice interrupted, “and to share mine with you. But now is not the appropriate time.”

  She turned away with a smile. At the back of the line Johann saw anger flash briefly in Yasin’s eyes. He does not like you, Sister Beatrice, Johann thought. And not just because you are a woman, although that’s part of it…

  After they had shuffled for another five minutes, the corridor expanded into a tall, cylindrical room with the same white floor and walls. In the center of the large chamber was a pair of intertwining helical slides, also white, each of which had a broad red band running down the center of the slide. The two helices ascended into darkness at the top of the room. All the illumination in the chamber came from lights in the lower two meters of the wall.

  Around the periphery of the circular floor, many doors and cabinets had been cut into the white walls. In short order the group found a pair of toilets, a large shower with stalls and showerheads to accommodate three people, some peculiar white towels with red trim, eleven sleeping mats, two cabinets full of what the group decided must be underwear, and eleven pairs of red-and-white shoes.

  Sister Nuba was the first to try on the shoes. “Hey, look at these,” she shouted, before becoming embarrassed by her outburst. Nuba took a few steps. “They’re very light,” she said in a less expressive tone. “And they’re magnetized or something. It’s easier to walk.”

  Everyone wanted to take a shower. The women went first, although Yasin entered a mild protest. Kwame joined Johann at the foot of one of the slides while the first group of women was in the shower.

  “So are we supposed to climb this thing?” Kwame asked.

  Johann turned and smiled. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said.

  Kwame leaned his head back and stared at the darkness above his head. “There can only be one reason why it’s not lit up there,” Kwame said. “Whoever it is that has brought us here does not want us to see what’s there. Therefore, my logical mind says that we are not supposed to climb the slide.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Johann said.

  Across the room, Yasin was already climbing the other slide. As he ascended into the darkness he waved down at the others.

  “Do you think that’s wise?” Sister Beatrice shouted at him. She had just come out of the shower.

  Yasin shrugged. “Why else would it be here?” he said. He glanced above him and then switched on his pocket flashlight. “Here I go,” he said.

  Yasin disappeared into the dark. From time to time the others on the floor could see the beam from his flashlight. After about two minutes they heard a sharp cry, almost a yelp, far above them. Several seconds later Yasin flew out of the dark, tumbling in midair as he headed for the floor.

  He landed on his back. Yasin was not seriously injured, but his usual cockiness was gone for a few minutes. “Something grabbed me and threw me off the slide,” he told those who had come over to help him. “I don’t know where it came from, or what it was, but it was very strong.”

  “What was it like up there?” Johann asked.

  “The slides go on and on without any change,” Yasin answered. “I was probably fifty or sixty meters high, and everything was still the same above me. Even the walls—”

  “Listen,” Brother Ravi said suddenly. “Do you hear that rumbling?”

  Everyone became quiet. Above them in the darkness they could hear a noise that was steadily growing louder. It did not take them long to figure out that something was coming down the slide or slides. As the sound came nearer it became more distinct. Johann and Yasin both identified it as metal sliding on metal.

  The two identical vehicles carrying their food and water showed up at exactly the same time, one at the bottom of each slide. The vehicles were rectangular, flatbedded with low restraining sides, white with red markings, and mounted on sliding wheels that traveled on the side rails of the helical slides. One carried eight large vessels of water, the other forty-four food cylinders stacked in piles of eleven. As soon as all the cargo was unloaded, the bizarre vehicles departed.

  “Shit,” said Yasin to Johann as they watched the second carrier scurry away. “I wanted to take a closer look at one of those things.” He saw Beatrice approaching and winked at Johann. “To see what kind of engineers God’s angels are.

  “Pretty damn good, I would say,” Johann said. “At least based on the evidence so far.”

  Johann had not yet fallen asleep on his mat when Kwame Hassan came over beside him.

  “Are you too tired for a little talk?” Kwame asked.

  Johann sat up. “What’s on your mind?” he said.

  The lithe Tanzanian squatted next to Johann. “What do you think is really going on here, Johann?” he said, still in a subdued tone. “Have we been kidnapped by the white ribbons?”

  “My best guess, Kwame, and that’s all it is, is that we have hitched a ride aboard a spacecraft built by an incredibly advanced extraterrestrial species, and we have been brought to this giant sphere for some specific purpose… Although I agree with Sister Beatrice that the hatbox was designed for our use, I have no idea why, or what is going to happen to us now.”

  “But who are these aliens?” Kwame asked. “Where did they come from? What do they want from us? What were they doing on Mars? Are they in any way related to that Rama spaceship that visited the solar system fourteen years ago?”

  Johann smiled. “As usual, Kwame, you’re asking all the right questions,” he said. “But I’m afraid I don’t have any of the answers."

  “But what are they going to do with us?” Kwame asked. “Isn’t it likely that they are going to kill us eventually? Why would they take care of us forever?”

  Johann lay back down on his mat. “My guess,” he said, “is that whatever the aliens do with us, any kind of normal life we might ever have had is indeed over… Even if they were to return us to Earth tomorrow, and leave me in Berlin and you in Dar es Salaam, neither of us would ever again be able to function in the normal world. We have gone through the looking glass, Kwame… We have had what the psychologists call a life-shattering experience.”

  Yasin suddenly appeared beside them. “Jesus, Ace,” he said, “I had no idea that you were such a philosopher… I came to discuss another problem. It’s that crazy nun. She seems to have appointed herself the leader of this damn group. We three should pool our resources and put her in her place.”

  “You may have difficulty believing this, Yasin,” Johann said, “but I am quite comfortable with Sister Beatrice and her role. I may not agree with her assumptions, or her motivations, but on balance I find her to be intelligent and capable. And she’s absolutely tireless.”

  “Still,” Yasin said, “no matter how competent she is, it galls me that all of us are playing second fiddle to a female religious fanatic.”

  “Good night, Yasin,” Johann said. “And good night, Kwame.”

  The white ribbon entered the chamber sometime while they were sleeping. For an entire day it stayed in virtually the same spot, hovering near the helical slides about one meter above the humans’ heads. Its presence cast a pall on the conversations. Voices were
lower and more subdued. People were careful with what they did, and said, for they had the feeling that the ribbon was monitoring their actions.

  Anna Kasper spent most of the day in the toilet or shower, trying to hide from the ribbon. She did not want it to see her, and she definitely did not want to think about it. The bright ribbon terrified her, sitting there in the air, its dancing particles drifting aimlessly about. When she did come out into the chamber, she kept her eyes focused on the floor.

  The intruder completely discombobulated the gentle Japanese nurse Satoko Hayakawa. She was mesmerized by the ribbon. Satoko stood as close to it as she dared for several hours, staring at the individual particles and following trajectories from side to side. Eventually she began talking to the ribbon in a low voice, and at one point she suddenly started weeping hysterically. Not even Fernando could console her. “It’s going to kill us,” Satoko kept repeating. “I know it’s going to kill us.”

  The prevailing mood was somber when the wall lights finally dimmed. Several members of the group stretched out immediately on their mats. Sisters Beatrice and Vivien approached Johann. “Maybe everyone else would feel better,” Beatrice said, “if we each told our encounter stories again.”

  Johann reflected for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he replied. “Remember, those encounters all took place in familiar surroundings. The particles were bizarre, to be sure, but everything else in the scene was completely normal… What is frightening people here is both the ribbon and the sense that we are all strangers in a strange land.”

  Beatrice smiled. “I grok,” she said brightly. “But I wish there was something I could do to give everyone more peace of mind… Not even prayer seems to help them.”

  “Maybe you should sing,” Johann said. “I can’t speak for the others, but that would certainly cheer me up.”

  “That’s a great idea, Sister Beatrice,” Vivien said enthusiastically. “It would take everyone’s minds off our worries.”

  “But what should I sing?” Beatrice asked, her brow knitted beneath her headpiece.

  “Anything upbeat, preferably not religious,” Johann said. “Didn’t you mention you sang in a lot of popular musicals before you joined the order? Pick some of your favorites, even Disney, if you prefer, as long as it’s light.”

  “I don’t know,” Sister Beatrice said, momentarily taken aback.

  Johann was already on his feet. He clapped his hands three times. “Attention, everyone,” he then said. “We are all in for a treat. Sister Beatrice has agreed to sing some songs for us before we go to sleep.”

  There was some scattered applause. Everyone looked at Beatrice. “Just you wait, Brother Johann,” she said with a smile. She then switched to a cockney accent. “Just you wait, Brother Johann,” Beatrice repeated.

  Beatrice sang for half an hour. She started with pieces from the halcyon days of musical comedy in the twentieth century. Then she switched to some of the better tunes from the mid-twenty-first century, when the musical theater had staged a robust rebirth.

  The mood in the chamber changed. Even Satoko came out of her depression. Sister Vivien was becoming louder and more animated with each song. “Do the Phantom, B,” Vivien shouted after Beatrice had finished with the title song from the political musical Gorbachev.

  The Phantom of the Opera was Johann’s favorite musical. It was the world’s favorite, too, and was still being revived at regular intervals a hundred and fifty years after it had been originally created. Johann had seen the live play only once, in Berlin as a university student, and he had been disappointed because the young woman playing Christine could not hit the exceptionally high notes. Beatrice sang “Think of Me,” and then “Angel of Music,” her lute-clear, flawless voice giving a new meaning to each of the songs. Johann recalled the first time he had heard Beatrice sing while he was listening to the two songs from Phantom. He led the others in hearty applause when she was finished.

  Beatrice extended a hand to Johann and another to Sister Vivien. “Could we all join hands, please?” she asked.

  When everyone was standing in a circle, Beatrice turned around and glanced at the ribbon. “Let’s show our visitor,” she said, “that we are united, and not afraid of anything that might happen.

  “Blessed be the tie that binds,” she sang. “Our hearts in Christian love… The fellowship, of kindred minds…”

  Johann felt her warm hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Beatrice squeezed back, a gesture of friendship, and her response sent a pulse of lightning through his entire body.

  The second day the ribbon no longer frightened them. When it started moving around, seemingly eavesdropping on private conversations, nobody became unduly alarmed.

  “I threw water on it,” Kwame told the others after the ribbon had followed him into the shower. He was laughing. “It wriggled a bit, shaking itself like a wet dog.”

  Fernando and Brother José purposely walked over to where the ribbon was hovering and conducted a long and animated conversation in Spanish. “Now that ought to confuse it,” Fernando said with a broad smile when he rejoined Satoko.

  None of them saw the snowman until it appeared at the edge of the room, near the entrance to the corridor. Sister Vivien uttered a short, shrill cry and pointed in the snowman’s direction. The room became silent immediately. Johann, who had been talking with Brother Ravi about the terrible living conditions in south India as a result of the depression, felt a sharp pang of fear when he saw the snowman.

  This creature was identical to the one Johann and Kwame had encountered in the tunnels beneath the Martian polar ice. It consisted of two large, stacked white balls without any markings, the bottom one slightly larger and resting on a white plate with red wheels. The snowman stood in place for nearly a minute and then rolled slowly toward them. The ribbon, as if on cue, moved over to the bottom of one of the helical slides.

  When it was about ten meters away from the closest human, the middle of the snowman’s upper body convulsed and a long, skinny white arm with two fingers and an unusually fat thumb extended outward. Everyone backed away as the snowman approached the group. It made a beeline for Sister Beatrice. She did not try to run away.

  The strange being wrapped its hand around Beatrice’s forearm and began slowly pulling her toward the helical slide where the ribbon was hovering. Sister Beatrice did not resist. Johann thought he saw her mumbling a prayer.

  After the snowman had released her underneath the ribbon, at the entrance to the slide, it rolled back toward the other humans. This time it selected Johann. He winced when he felt the firm grip on his forearm, but he also did not try to fight. Johann let the snowman pull him slowly over to where Beatrice was standing.

  The ribbon started moving up the helix, staying a fixed altitude above the slide. The snowman lifted its arm and pointed upward, toward the ribbon. “I think we’re supposed to ascend,” Sister Beatrice said gamely.

  “I guess so,” Johann replied, struggling against the alternating waves of fear and panic that were coursing through his body.

  She took the first step up the slide. Johann followed. When they were a couple of meters above the others, Yasin ran across the room. Dodging the snowman, he tried to enter the bottom of the slide. The alien creature seized him in its powerful grip.

  “Stop,” Yasin yelled, “you’re hurting me.”

  When the snowman released him, Yasin scrambled up to where Sister Beatrice and Johann had momentarily stopped. The snowman’s torso convulsed again, and its arm immediately doubled its length. This time it lifted Yasin off the surface and threw him in the direction of the other humans. The startled Yasin slid across the floor into Kwame’s feet.

  The ribbon moved higher. The snowman pointed upward again as Johann and Sister Beatrice edged into the darkness.

  3

  The helical slide wound around its identical partner many many times. Beatrice and Johann quickly reached an altitude so far above the chamber that they could no longer see any light
at all below them. The only illumination was provided by the ribbon. At least we’re not fighting gravity too, Johann thought after they had been walking for twenty minutes.

  “Well, Brother Johann,” Sister Beatrice said between breaths from in front of him, “I wonder what miracles God has in store for us now.”

  He could tell from her gait and her posture that she was tiring. They had been moving at a brisk pace the entire time.

  “It must be all right for us to stop,” Johann said. “Why don’t we take a short rest.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Beatrice said. She turned around to face him. At first, because the ribbon was directly behind Beatrice, Johann could not see either her expression or her eyes. He stepped slightly to the side and she did the same.

  “Isn’t this fantastic?” she said brightly. “Did you ever even dream, when you were a child, that you might experience something like this?”

  He searched her face carefully. There was not a trace of fear anywhere. “Are you never afraid, Sister Beatrice?” Johann asked. “I mean, here we are, inside a giant spherical worldlet created by beings of unimaginable capability, walking in the dark up a never-ending helical slide toward an unknown destination. And you act as if we’re on some kind of a tour, or in an amusement park.”

  Beatrice smiled down at him. “Hey,” she said, “this is neat… Now I know what it would be like to be as tall as you are.”

  Johann shook his head and threw his arms up in mock despair.

  Sister Beatrice laughed. “Relax, Brother Johann,” she said. “Everything will be all right. That’s what faith is all about. Once you put yourself in God’s hands, and accept whatever He may have in store for you, then all your fears and worries are over. Qué será, será. And you can take the time to smell the roses. Or to enjoy an exhilarating walk up a helical slide built by God’s angels… Or by aliens if you prefer.”

  “Aha,” Johann said. “So you do acknowledge the possibility that all this may have an extraterrestrial origin?”

 

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