Rama: The Omnibus

by Arthur C. Clarke

  A final train arrived only minutes before the light disappeared completely. This one came from the Central City station to the north, bringing colonists who lived in Hakone or San Miguel. There were not many latecomers. Most of the people had arrived early to set up their picnics on the grass. Eponine was on the last train. She had originally planned not to attend the celebration at all, but had changed her mind at the last minute.

  Eponine was confused when she stepped onto the grass from the station platform. There were so many people! All of New Eden must be here, she thought. For a moment she wished that she had not come. Everyone was with friends and family, and she was all alone.

  Ellie Wakefield was playing horseshoes with Benjy when Eponine stepped off the train. She quickly recognized her teacher, even from the distance, because of her bright red armband. "It's Eponine, Mother," Ellie said, running over to Nicole. "May I ask her to join us?"

  "Of course," Nicole replied.

  A voice on the public address system interrupted the music being played by a small band to announce that the fireworks would begin in ten minutes. There was scattered applause.

  "Eponine," Ellie shouted. "Over here." Ellie waved her arms.

  Eponine heard her name being called but could not see very clearly in the dim light. After several seconds she started in Ellie's direction. Along the way she inadvertently bumped into a toddler who was roaming by himself in the grass. "Kevin," a mother shrieked, "stay away from her!"

  In an instant a burly blond man grabbed the little boy and held him away from Eponine. "You shouldn't be here," the man said. "Not with decent people."

  A little shaken, Eponine continued toward Ellie, who was walking in her direction across me grass. "Go home, Forty-one!" a woman who had watched the earlier incident shouted. A fat ten-year-old boy with a bulbous nose pointed his finger at Eponine and made an inaudible comment to his younger sister.

  "I'm so glad to see you," Ellie said when she reached her teacher. "Will you come have something to eat?"

  Eponine nodded. "I'm sorry for all these people," Ellie said in a voice loud enough for everyone around her to hear. "It's a shame they are so ignorant."

  Ellie led Eponine back to the big table and made a general introduction. "Hey, everybody, for those of you who don't know her, this is my teacher and friend Eponine. She has no last name, so don't ask her what it is."

  Eponine and Nicole had met several times before. They exchanged pleasantries now while Lincoln offered Eponine some vegetable sticks and a soda. Nai Watanabe pointedly brought her twin sons, Kepler and Galileo, who had just had their second birthday the week before, over to meet the new arrival. A large nearby group of colonists from Positano was staring as Eponine lifted Kepler in her arms. "Pretty," the little boy said, pointing at Eponine's face.

  "It must be very difficult," Nicole said in French, her head nodding in the direction of the gawking bystanders.

  "Oui," Eponine replied. Difficult? she thought. That's the understatement of the year. How about absolutely impossible? It's not bad enough that I have some horrible disease that will probably kill me. No. I must also wear an armband so that others can avoid me if they choose.

  Max Puckett glanced up from the chessboard and noticed Eponine. "Hello, hello," he said. "You must be the teacher I've heard so much about."

  "That's Max," Ellie said, bringing Eponine over in his direction. "He's a flirt, but he's harmless. And the older man who's ignoring us is Judge Pyotr Mishkin… Did I say it correctly, Judge?"

  "Yes, of course, young lady," Judge Mishkin replied, his eyes not leaving the chessboard. "Dammit, Puckett, what in the world are you trying to do with that knight? As usual, your play is either stupid or brilliant and I can't decide which."

  The judge eventually looked up, saw Eponine's red armband, and scrambled to his feet. "I'm sorry, miss, truly sorry," he said. "You are forced to endure enough without having to bear slights from this selfish old codger."

  A minute or two before the fireworks began, a large yacht could be seen approaching the picnic area from the western side of the lake. Brightly colored lights and pretty girls decorated its long deck. The name Nakamura was emblazoned on the side of the boat. Above the main deck, Eponine recognized Kimberly Henderson standing beside Toshio Nakamura at the helm.

  The party on the yacht waved at the people on the shore. Patrick Wakefield ran excitedly over to the table. "Look, Mother," he said, "there's Katie on the boat."

  Nicole put on her glasses for a better look. It was indeed her daughter in a bikini bathing suit, waving from the deck of the yacht. "That's just what we need," Nicole mumbled to herself, as the first of the fireworks exploded above them, filling the dark sky with color and light.

  "Three years ago today," Kenji Watanabe began his speech, "a scouting party from the Pinta first set foot in this new world. None of us knew what to expect. All of us wondered, especially during the two long months that we spent eight hours each day in the somnarium, if anything resembling a normal life would ever be possible here in New Eden.

  "Our early fears have not materialized. Our alien hosts, whoever they might be, have never once interfered with our lives. It may be true, as Nicole Wakefield and others have suggested, that they are continually observing us, but we do not feel their presence in any way. Outside our colony the Rama spacecraft is rushing toward the star we call Tau Ceti at an unbelievable speed. Inside, our daily activities are barely influenced by these remarkable external conditions of our existence.

  "Before the days in the somnarium, while we were still voyagers inside the planetary system that revolves around our home star the Sun, many of us thought our 'observation period' would be short. We believed that after a few months or so we would be returned to Earth, or maybe even our original destination Mars, and that this third Rama spacecraft would disappear in the distant reaches of space like its two predecessors. As I stand before you today, however, our navigators tell me that we are still moving away from our sun, as we have been for more than two and a half years, at approximately half the speed of light. If, indeed, it will be our good fortune someday to return to our own solar system, that day will be at least several years in the future.

  "These factors dictate the primary theme of this, my last Settlement Day address. The theme is simple: Fellow colonists, we must take full responsibility for our own destiny. We cannot expect the awesome powers that created our worldlet in the beginning to save us from our mistakes. We must manage New Eden as if we and our children will be here forever. It is up to us to ensure the quality of life here, both now and for our future generations.

  "At present there are a number of challenges facing the colony. Notice that I call them challenges, not problems. If we work together we can meet these challenges. If we carefully weigh the long-term consequences of our actions, we will make the right decisions. But if we are unable to understand the concepts of 'delayed gratification' and 'for the good of all,' then the future of New Eden will be bleak.

  "Let me take an example to illustrate my point. Richard Wakefield has explained, both on television and in public fora, how the master scheme that controls our weather is based on certain assumptions about the atmospheric conditions inside our habitat. Specifically, our weather control algorithm assumes that both the carbon dioxide levels and the concentration of smoke particles are less than a given magnitude. Without understanding exactly how the mathematics works, you can appreciate that the computations governing the external inputs to our habitat will not be correct if the underlying assumptions are not accurate.

  "It is not my intent today to give a scientific lecture about a very complex subject. What I really want to talk about is policy. Since most of our scientists believe that our unusual weather the last four months is a result of unduly high levels of carbon dioxide and smoke particles in the atmosphere, my government has made specific proposals to deal with these issues. All of our recommendations have been rejected by the Senate.

  "And why? Our pro
posal to impose a gradual ban on fireplaces—which are totally unnecessary in New Eden in the first place—was called a 'restriction on personal freedom.' Our carefully detailed recommendation to reconstitute part of the GED network, so that the loss of plant cover resulting from the development of portions of Sherwood Forest and the northern grasslands could be offset, was voted down as well. The reason? The opposition argued that the colony cannot afford the task and, in addition, that the power consumed by the new segments of the GED network would result in painfully stringent electricity conservation measures.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, it is ridiculous for us to bury our heads in the sand and hope that these environmental problems will go away. Each time that we postpone taking positive action means greater hardships for the colony in the future. I cannot believe that so many of you accept the opposition's wishful thinking, that somehow we will be able to figure out how the alien weather algorithms actually work and tune them to perform properly under conditions with higher levels of carbon dioxide and smoke particles. What colossal hubris!…"

  Nicole and Nai were both watching the reaction to Kenji's speech very carefully. Several of his supporters had urged Kenji to give a light, optimistic talk, without any discussion of the crucial issues. The governor, however, had been firm in his determination to make a meaningful speech.

  "He's lost them," Nai leaned over to whisper to Nicole. "He's being too pedantic."

  There was definitely a restiveness in the stands, where approximately half the audience was now sitting. The Nakamura yacht, which had been anchored just offshore during the fireworks, had pointedly departed soon after Governor Watanabe began to speak.

  Kenji switched topics from the environment to the retrovirus RV-41. Since this was an issue that aroused strong passions in the colony, the audience's attention increased markedly. The governor explained how the New Eden medical staff, under the leadership of Dr. Robert Turner, had made heroic strides in understanding the disease but still needed to perform more extensive research to determine how to treat it. He then decried the hysteria that had forced the passage of a bill, even over his veto, requiring all those colonists with RV-41 antibodies in their system to wear red armbands at all times.

  "Boo," shouted a large group of mostly Oriental picnickers on the other side of the stands from Nicole and Nai.

  "…These poor, unfortunate people face enough anguish…" Kenji was saying.

  "They're whores and fags," a man cried from behind the Wakefield-Watanabe party. The people around him laughed and applauded.

  "…Dr. Turner has repeatedly affirmed that this disease, like most retroviruses, cannot be transmitted except by blood and semen…"

  The crowd was becoming unruly. Nicole hoped that Kenji was paying attention and would cut his comments short. He had intended to discuss also the wisdom (or lack thereof) of expanding the exploration of Rama outside of New Eden, but he could tell that he had lost his audience.

  Governor Watanabe paused a second and then issued an earsplitting whistle into the microphone. That temporarily quieted all the listeners. "I have only a few more remarks," he said, "and they should not offend anyone…

  "As you know, my wife Nai and I have twin sons. We feel that we are richly blessed. On this Settlement Day I ask each of you to think about your children and envision another Settlement Day, a hundred or maybe even a thousand years into the future. Imagine that you are face-to-face with those whom you have begotten, your children's children's children. As you talk to them, and hold them in your arms, will you be able to say that you did everything reasonably possible to leave them a world in which they had a good chance of finding happiness?"

  Patrick was excited again. Just as the picnic was ending, Max had invited him to spend the night and the next day at the Puckett farm. "The new term at the university doesn't start until Wednesday," the young man told his mother. "May I go? Please?"

  Nicole was still disturbed by the crowd's reaction to Kenji's speech and did not understand at first what her son was asking. After asking him to repeat his request she glanced at Max. "You'll take good care of my son?"

  Max Puckett grinned and nodded his head. Max and Patrick waited until the biots had finished cleaning up all the trash from the picnic and then headed for the train station together. Half an hour later they were in the Central City station waiting for the infrequent train that served the farming region directly. Across the platform from them, a group of Patrick's college classmates were entering the train to Hakone. "You should come," one of the young men yelled to Patrick. "Free drinks for everybody all night long."

  Max watched Patrick's eyes follow his friends onto the train. "Have you ever been to Vegas?" Max asked.

  "No, sir," he answered. "My mother and father—"

  "Would you like to go?"

  Patrick's hesitation was all Max needed. A few seconds later they boarded the train to Hakone with all the merrymakers. "I'm not terribly fond of the place myself," Max commented as they were riding. "It seems too false, too superficial… But it's certainly worth seeing and it's not a bad place to go for amusement when you're all alone."

  Slightly more than two and a half years earlier, very soon after the daily accelerations ended, Toshio Nakamura had correctly calculated that the colonists were likely to stay in New Eden and Rama for a long time. Before even the first meeting of the constitutional committee and its selection of Nicole des Jardins Wakefield as provisional governor, Nakamura had decided that he was going to be the richest and most powerful person in the colony. Building on the convict support base he had established during the cruise from Earth to Mars on the Santa Maria, he expanded his personal contacts and was able, as soon as banks and currency had been created in the colony, to begin building his empire.

  Nakamura was convinced that the best products to sell in New Eden were those that provided pleasure and excitement. His first venture, a small gambling casino, was an immediate success. Next he bought some of the farmland on the east side of Hakone and built the colony's initial hotel, along with a second, larger casino just off the lobby. He added a small, intimate club, with female hostesses trained in the Japanese manner, and then a more raucous , girlie club. Everything he did was successful, Parlaying his investments shrewdly, Nakamura was in a position, soon after Kenji Watanabe was elected governor, to offer to buy one fifth of Sherwood Forest from the government. His offer allowed the Senate to forestall higher taxes that would otherwise have been required to pay for the initial RV-41 research.

  Part of the burgeoning forest was cleared and replaced with Nakamura's personal palace as well as a new, glittering hotel/casino, an entertainment arena, a restaurant complex, and several clubs. Consolidating his monopoly, Nakamura lobbied intensely (and successfully) for legislation that would limit gambling to the region around Hakone. His thugs then convinced all prospective entrepreneurs that nobody really wanted to enter the gambling business in competition with the "king Jap."

  When his power was beyond attack, Nakamura permitted his associates to branch out into prostitution and drugs, neither of which were illegal in the New Eden society. Toward the end of the Watanabe term, when government policies began to conflict increasingly with his personal agenda, Nakamura decided he should control the government also. But he didn't want to be saddled with the boring job himself. He needed a dupe. So he recruited Ian Macmillan, the hapless ex-commander of the Pinta who had been an also-ran in the first gubernatorial election won by Kenji Watanabe. Nakamura offered Macmillan the governorship in exchange for the Scotsman's fealty.

  There was nothing even remotely like Vegas anywhere else in the colony. The basic New Eden architecture designed by the Wakefields and the Eagle had all been spare, functional in the extreme, with simple geometries and plain facades. Vegas was overdone, garish, inconsistent—a mishmash of architectural styles. But it was interesting, and young Patrick O'Toole was visibly impressed when he and Max Puckett entered the outside gates of the compound.

  "Wow," h
e said, staring at the huge blinking sign above the portal.

  "I don't want to diminish your appreciation any, my boy," Max said, lighting a cigarette, "but the power required to operate that one sign would drive almost a square kilometer of GEDs."

  "You sound like my mother and father," Patrick replied.

  Before entering the casino or any of the clubs, each person had to sign the master register. Nakamura missed no bets. He had a complete file on what every Vegas visitor had done every time he had come inside. That way Nakamura knew which portions of his business should be expanded and, more importantly, the special and favored vice (or vices) of each of his customers.

  Max and Patrick went into the casino. While they were standing by one of the two craps tables, Max tried to explain to the young man how the game worked. Patrick, however, could not keep his eyes off the cocktail waitresses in their scanty outfits.

  "Ever been laid, boy?" Max asked.

  "Excuse me, sir?" Patrick replied.

  "Have you ever had sex—you know, intercourse with a woman?"

  "No, sir," the young man answered.

  A voice inside Max's head told him that it was not his responsibility to usher the young man into the world of pleasure. The same voice also reminded Max that this was New Eden, and not Arkansas, or otherwise he would have taken Patrick over to the Xanadu and treated him to his first sex.

  There were more than a hundred people in the casino, a huge crowd considering the size of the colony, and everyone seemed to be having fun. The waitresses were indeed dispensing free drinks just as fast as they could—Max grabbed a margarita and handed one to Patrick.

  "I don't see any biots," Patrick commented.

  "There aren't any in the casino," Max replied. "Not even working the tables, where they would be more efficient than humans. The king Jap believes their presence inhibits the gambling instinct. But he uses them exclusively in all the restaurants."

  "Max Puckett. Well, I do declare."