Rendezvous With Rama - Arthur C. Clarke Page 0,42
to be shaken into life. Maybe that’s exactly what’s happened.”
“In a couple of days! It took millions of years on Earth.”
“Three hundred and seventy-five million, according to the latest estimate. So that’s where the oxygen’s come from. Rama’s shot through the anaerobic stage and has got to photosynthetic plants—in about forty-eight hours. I wonder what it will produce tomorrow?”
CHAPTER 22
TO SAIL THE CYLINDRICAL SEA
When they reached the foot of the stairway, they had another shock. At first it appeared that something had gone through the camp, overturning equipment, even collecting smaller objects and carrying them away. But after a brief examination their alarm was replaced by a rather shamefaced annoyance.
The culprit was only the wind. Though they had tied down all loose objects before they left, some ropes must have parted during exceptionally strong gusts. It was several days before they were able to retrieve all their scattered property.
Otherwise there seemed no major changes. Even the silence of Rama had returned, now that the ephemeral storms of spring were over. And out there at the edge of the plain was a calm sea, waiting for the first ship in a million years.
“Shouldn’t one christen a new boat with a bottle of champagne?”
“Even if we had some on board I wouldn’t allow such a criminal waste. Anyway, it’s too late. We’ve already launched the thing.”
“At least it does float. You’ve won your bet, Jimmy. I’ll settle when we get back to Earth.”
“It’s got to have a name. Any ideas?”
The subject of these unflattering comments was now bobbing beside the steps leading down into the Cylindrical Sea. It was a small raft, constructed from six empty storage drums, held together by a light metal framework. Building it, assembling it at Camp Alpha, and hauling it on demountable wheels across more than ten kilometers of plain had absorbed the crew’s entire energies for several days. It was a gamble that had better pay off.
The prize was worth the risk. The enigmatic towers of New York, gleaming there in the shadowless light five kilometers away, had taunted them ever since they had entered Rama. No one doubted that the city—or whatever it might be—was the real heart of this world. If they did nothing else, they must reach New York.
“We still don’t have a name. Skipper, what about it?”
Norton laughed, then became suddenly serious. “I’ve got one for you. Call it Resolution.”
“Why?”
“That was one of Cook’s ships. It’s a good name. May she live up to it.”
There was a thoughtful silence; then Sergeant Barnes, who had been principally responsible for the design, asked for three volunteers. Everyone present held up a hand.
“Sorry—we have only four life jackets. Boris, Jimmy, Pieter—you’ve all done some sailing. Let’s try her out.”
No one thought it in the least peculiar that an executive sergeant was now taking charge of the proceedings. Ruby Barnes had the only master’s certificate aboard; so that settled the matter. She had navigated racing trimarans across the Pacific, and it did not seem likely that a few kilometers of dead-calm water would present much of a challenge to her skills.
Ever since she had set eyes upon the sea, she had been determined to make this voyage. In all the thousands of years that man had had dealings with the waters of his own world, no sailor had ever faced anything remotely like this. In the last few days a silly little jingle had been running through her mind, and she could not get rid of it: “To sail the Cylindrical Sea….” Well, that was precisely what she was going to do.
Her passengers took their places on the improvised bucket seats, and Ruby opened the throttle. The twenty-kilowatt motor started to whirr, the chain drives of the reduction gear blurred, and Resolution surged away, to the cheers of the spectators.
Ruby had hoped to get fifteen kph with this load, but would settle for anything over ten. A half-kilometer course had been measured along the cliff, and she made the round trip in five and a half minutes. Allowing for turning time, this worked out at twelve kph, and she was quite happy with that.
With no power, but with three energetic paddlers helping her own more skillful blade, Ruby was able to get a quarter of this speed. So even if the motor broke down, they could get back to shore in a couple of hours. The heavy-duty power cells could provide enough energy to circumnavigate the world, but she was carrying two spares, to be on