Rendezvous With Rama - Arthur C. Clarke Page 0,46

accordingly.

As for his fear, perhaps that was too strong a word; apprehension might be better. The Ramans seemed to have planned for everything. He was not anxious to discover the precautions they had taken to guard their property. When he sailed back to the mainland, it would be with empty hands.

CHAPTER 24

DRAGONFLY

Lieutenant James Pak was the most junior officer on board Endeavour, and this was only his fourth mission into deep space. He was ambitious, and due for promotion; he had also committed a serious breach of regulations. No wonder, therefore, that he took a long time to make up his mind.

It would be a gamble; if he lost, he could be in deep trouble. He would not only be risking his career; he might even be risking his neck. But if he succeeded, he would be a hero. What finally convinced him was neither of these arguments. It was the certainty that, if he did nothing at all, he would spend the rest of his life brooding over his lost opportunity.

Nevertheless, he was still hesitant when he asked Commander Norton for a private meeting.

What is it this time? Norton asked himself as he analyzed the uncertain expression on the young officer’s face. He remembered his delicate interview with Boris Rodrigo; no, it wouldn’t be anything like that. Pak was certainly not the religious type. The only interests he had ever shown outside his work were sport and sex, preferably combined.

It could hardly be the former, and Norton hoped it was not the latter. He had encountered most of the problems that a commanding officer could encounter in this department—except the classical one of an unscheduled birth during a mission. Though this situation was the subject of innumerable jokes, it had never happened yet; but such gross incompetence was probably only a matter of time.

“Well, Jimmy, what is it?”

“I have an idea, Commander. I know how to reach the southern continent—even the South Pole.”

“I’m listening. How do you propose to do it?”

“Er—by flying there.”

“Jimmy, I’ve had at least five proposals to do that—more, if you count crazy suggestions from Earth. We’ve looked into the possibility of adapting our spacesuit propulsors, but air drag would make them hopelessly inefficient. They’d run out of fuel before they could go ten kilometers.”

“I know that. But I have the answer.”

Pak’s attitude was a curious mixture of complete confidence and barely suppressed nervousness. Norton was quite baffled. What was the kid worried about? Surely he knew his commanding officer well enough to be certain that no reasonable proposal would be laughed out of court.

“Well, go on. If it works, I’ll see your promotion is retroactive.”

That little half-promise, half-joke didn’t go down as well as he had hoped. Jimmy gave a rather sickly smile, made several false starts, then decided on an oblique approach to the subject.

“You know, Commander, that I was in the Lunar Olympics last year.”

“Of course. Sorry you didn’t win.”

“It was bad equipment; I know what went wrong. I have friends on Mars who’ve been working on it, in secret. We want to give everyone a surprise.”

“Mars? But I didn’t know—”

“Not many people do. The sport’s still new there; it’s only been tried in the Xante Sportsdome. But the best aerodynamicists in the solar system are on Mars. If you can fly in that atmosphere, you can fly anywhere.

“Now, my idea was that if the Martians could build a good machine, with all their know-how, it would really perform on the Moon—where gravity is only half as strong.”

“That seems plausible, but how does it help us?” Norton was beginning to guess, but he wanted to give Jimmy plenty of rope.

“Well, I formed a syndicate with some friends in Port Lowell. They’ve built a fully aerobatic flyer, with some refinements that no one has ever seen before. In lunar gravity, under the Olympic dome, it should create a sensation.”

“And win you the gold medal.”

“I hope so.”

“Let me see if I follow your train of thought correctly. A sky-bike that could enter the Lunar Olympics, at a sixth of a gravity, would be even more sensational inside Rama, with no gravity at all. You could fly it right along the axis, from the North Pole to the South—and back again.”

“Yes—easily. The one-way trip would take three hours, nonstop. But of course you could rest whenever you wanted to, as long as you kept near the axis.”

“It’s a brilliant idea, and I congratulate you. What a pity sky-bikes aren’t part of regular Space Survey equipment.”

Jimmy seemed