Rendezvous With Rama - Arthur C. Clarke Page 0,31

the night of Rama. It was no longer unbroken, for at two spots about four kilometers away the faint patches of light of exploring parties could be clearly seen.

In an emergency, I can recall them within the hour, Norton told himself. And that, surely, should be good enough.

He turned to the Sergeant. “Take this message. Rama Committee, care of PLANETCOM. Appreciate your advice and will take precautions. Please specify meaning of phrase ‘sudden onset.’ Respectfully, Norton, Commander, Endeavour.”

He waited until the Sergeant had disappeared toward the blazing lights of the camp, then switched on his recorder again. But the train of thought was broken and he could not get back into the mood. The letter would have to wait for some other time.

It was not often that Captain Cook came to his aid when he was neglecting his duty. But he suddenly remembered how rarely and briefly poor Elizabeth Cook had seen her husband in sixteen years of married life. Yet she had borne him six children—and outlived them all.

His wives, never more than ten minutes away at the speed of light, had nothing to complain about.

CHAPTER 17

SPRING

During the first “nights” in Rama it had not been easy to sleep. The darkness and the mysteries it concealed were oppressive, but even more unsettling was the silence. Absence of noise is not a natural condition; all human senses require some input. If they are deprived of it, the mind manufactures its own substitutes.

And so, many sleepers had later complained of strange noises, even of voices, which were obviously illusions, because those awake had heard nothing. Dr. Ernst had prescribed a simple and effective cure; during the sleeping period the camp was now lulled by gentle, unobtrusive background music.

During this night, Norton found the cure inadequate. He kept straining his ears into the darkness, and he knew what he was listening for. But though a faint breeze did caress his face from time to time, there was no sound that could possibly be taken for that of a distant, rising wind. Nor did either of the exploring parties report anything unusual.

At last, around ship’s midnight, he went to sleep. There was always a man on watch at the communications console, in case of any urgent messages. No other precautions seemed necessary.

Not even a hurricane could have created the sound that did wake Norton, and the whole camp, in a single instant. It seemed that the sky was falling, or that Rama had split open and was tearing itself apart. First there was a rending crack, then a long-drawn-out series of crystalline crashes, like a million glasshouses being demolished. It lasted for minutes, though it seemed like hours. It was still continuing, apparently moving away into the distance, when Norton got to the message center.

“Hub Control! What’s happened?”

“Just a moment, Skipper. It’s over by the sea. We’re getting the light on it.”

Eight kilometers overhead, on the axis of Rama, the searchlight began to swing its beam out across the plain. It reached the edge of the sea, then started to track along it, scanning around the interior of the world. A quarter of the way around the cylindrical surface, it stopped.

Up there in the sky—or what the mind still persisted in calling the sky—something extraordinary was happening. At first it seemed to Norton that the sea was boiling. It was no longer static and frozen in the grip of an eternal winter. A huge area, kilometers across, was in turbulent movement. And it was changing color; a broad band of white was marching across the ice.

Suddenly a slab perhaps a quarter of a kilometer on a side began to tilt upward like an opening door. Slowly and majestically, it reared into the sky, glittering and sparkling in the beam of the searchlight. Then it slid back and vanished beneath the surface, while a tidal wave of foaming water raced outward in all directions from its point of submergence.

Not until then did Norton fully realize what was happening. The ice was breaking up. All these days and weeks the sea had been thawing, far down in the depths. It was hard to concentrate because of the crashing roar that still filled the world and echoed around the sky, but he tried to think of a reason for so dramatic a convulsion. When a frozen lake or river thawed on Earth, it was nothing like this.

But of course! It was obvious enough, now that it had happened. The sea was thawing from beneath, as the