Rendezvous With Rama - Arthur C. Clarke Page 0,73

issued a formal protest. Everyone was waiting, with nervous impatience, to see what Mercury would do next.

It had been three days since the missile’s existence—and origin—had been announced. All that time, the Hermians had remained stubbornly silent. They could be good at that when it suited them.

Some psychologists had claimed that it was almost impossible to understand fully the mentality of anyone born and bred on Mercury. Forever exiled from Earth by its three-times-more-powerful gravity, Hermians could stand on the Moon and look across the narrow gap to the planet of their ancestors, even of their own parents, but they could never visit it. And so, inevitably, they claimed that they did not want to.

They pretended to despise the soft rains, the rolling fields, the lakes and seas, the blue skies—all the things that they could know only through recordings. Because their planet was drenched with such solar energy that the daytime temperature often reached six hundred degrees, they affected a rather swaggering toughness that did not bear a moment’s serious examination. In fact, they tended to be physically weak, since they could survive only if they were totally insulated from their environment. Even if he could have tolerated the gravity, a Hermian would have been quickly incapacitated by a hot day in any equatorial country on Earth.

Yet in matters that really counted, they were tough. The psychological pressures of that ravening star so close at hand, the engineering problems of tearing into a stubborn planet and wrenching from it all the necessities of life—these had produced a Spartan and in many ways highly admirable culture. You could rely on the Hermians; if they promised something, they would do it, though the bill might be considerable. It was their own joke that if the Sun ever showed signs of going nova they would contract to get it under control—once the fee had been settled. It was a non-Hermian joke that any child who showed signs of interest in art, philosophy, or abstract mathematics was plowed straight back into the hydroponic farms. As far as criminals and psychopaths were concerned, this was not a joke at all. Crime was one of the luxuries that Mercury could not afford.

Commander Norton had been to Mercury once, had been enormously impressed, like most visitors, and had acquired many Hermian friends. He had fallen in love with a girl in Port Lucifer, and had even contemplated signing a three-year contract, but parental disapproval of anyone from outside the orbit of Venus had been too strong. It was just as well.

“Triple-A message from Earth, Skipper,” said the bridge. “Voice and back-up text from Commander in Chief. Ready to accept?”

“Check and file text; let me have the voice.”

“Here it comes.”

Admiral Hendrix sounded calm and matter-of-fact, as if he were issuing a routine fleet order, instead of handling a situation unique in the history of space. But then, he was not ten kilometers from the bomb.

“C in C to Commander, Endeavour. This is a quick summary of the situation as we see it now. You know that the General Assembly meets at 1400 and you’ll be listening to the proceedings. It is possible that you may then have to take action immediately, without consultation; hence this briefing.

“We’ve analyzed the photos you have sent us. The vehicle is a standard space probe, modified for high-impulse and probably laser-riding for initial boost. Size and mass are consistent with fusion bomb in the five-hundred- to one-thousand-megaton range. The Hermians use up to one hundred megatons routinely in their mining operations, so they would have had no difficulty in assembling such a warhead.

“Our experts also estimate that this would be the minimum size necessary to assure destruction of Rama. If it was detonated against the thinnest part of the shell, underneath the Cylindrical Sea, the hull would be ruptured, and the spin of the body would complete its disintegration.

“We assume that the Hermians, if they are planning such an act, will give you ample time to get clear. For your information, the gamma-ray flash from such a bomb could be dangerous to you up to a range of a thousand kilometers.

“But that is not the most serious danger. The fragments of Rama, weighing tons and spinning off at almost a thousand kilometers an hour, could destroy you at an unlimited distance. We therefore recommend that you proceed along the spin axis, since no fragments will be thrown off in that direction. Ten thousand kilometers should give an adequate safety margin.

“This message cannot