“Wish I could have thrown that at dear old Rabbi Berenstein – I'm sure he'd have had a good answer.”
“I don't doubt it. I wish I could have met him myself. And I'm glad he never lived to see what happened to Israel.”
END AUDIO.
There you have it, Indra. Wish the Grannymede had Angkor Wat on its menu – I've never seen it – but you can't have everything...
Now, the question you really wanted answered... why is Dr Ted so delighted that I'm here?
As you know, he's convinced that the key to many mysteries lies on Europa – where no one has been allowed to land for a thousand years.
He thinks I may be an exception. He believes I have a friend there. Yes – Dave Bowman, or whatever he's now become...
We know that he survived being drawn into the Big Brother Monolith – and somehow revisited Earth afterwards. But there's more, that I didn't know. Very few people do, because the Medes are embarrassed to talk about it...
Ted Khan has spent years collecting the evidence, and is now quite certain of the facts – even though he can't explain them. On at least six occasions, about a century apart, reliable observers here in Anubis have reported seeing an – apparition – just like the one that Heywood Floyd met aboard Discovery. Though not one of them knew about that incident, they were all able to identify Dave when they were shown his hologram. And there was another sighting aboard a survey ship that made a close approach to Europa, six hundred years ago...
Individually, no one would take these cases seriously – but altogether they make a pattern. Ted's quite sure that Dave Bowman survives in some form, presumably associated with the Monolith we call the Great Wall. And he still has some interest in our affairs.
Though he's made no attempt at communication, Ted hopes we can make contact. He believes that I'm the only human who can do it...
I'm still trying to make up my mind. Tomorrow, I'll talk it over with Captain Chandler. Will let you know what we decide. Love, Frank.
STORE
TRANSMIT – INDRA
21. Quarantine
“Do you believe in ghosts, Dim?”
“Certainly not: but like every sensible man, I'm afraid of them. Why do you ask?”
“If it wasn't a ghost, it was the most vivid dream I've ever had. Last night I had a conversation with Dave Bowman.”
Poole knew that Captain Chandler would take him seriously, when the occasion required; nor was he disappointed.
“Interesting – but there's an obvious explanation. You've been living here in the Bowman Suite, for Deus's sake! You told me yourself it feels haunted.”
“I'm sure – well, ninety-nine per cent sure – that you're right, and the whole thing was prompted by the discussions I've been having with Prof. Ted. Have you heard the reports that Dave Bowman occasionally appears in Anubis? About once every hundred years? Just as he did to Dr Floyd aboard Discovery, after she'd been reactivated.”
“What happened there? I've heard vague stories, but never taken them seriously.”
“Dr Khan does – and so do I – I've seen the original recordings. Floyd's sitting in my old chair when a kind of dust-cloud forms behind him, and shapes itself into Dave – though only the head has detail. Then it gives that famous message, warning him to leave.”
“Who wouldn't have? But that was a thousand years ago. Plenty of time to fake it.”
“What would be the point? Khan and I were looking at it yesterday. I'd bet my life it's authentic.”
“As a matter of fact, I agree with you. And I have heard those reports...”
Chandler's voice trailed away, and he looked slightly embarrassed.
“Long time ago, I had a girl-friend here in Anubis. She told me that her grandfather had seen Bowman. I laughed.”
“I wonder if Ted has that sighting on his list. Could you put him in touch with your friend?”
“Er – rather not. We haven't spoken for years. For all I know, she may be on the Moon, or Mars... Anyway, why is Professor Ted interested?”
“That's what I really wanted to discuss with you.”
“Sounds ominous. Go ahead,”
“Ted thinks that Dave Bowman – or whatever he's become – may still exist – up there on Europa.”
“After a thousand years?”
“Well – look at me.”
“One sample is poor statistics, my maths prof. used to say. But go on.”
“It's a complicated story – or maybe a jigsaw, with most of the pieces missing. But it's generally agreed that something crucial happened to our ancestors when that Monolith appeared in Africa, four million years ago. It marks a turning point in prehistory – the first appearance of tools – and weapons – and religion... That can't be pure coincidence. The Monolith must have done something to us – surely it couldn't have just stood there, passively accepting worship...”
“Ted's fond of quoting a famous palaeontologist who said 'TMA ZERO gave us an evolutionary kick in the pants'. He argues that the kick wasn't in a wholly desirable direction. Did we have to become so mean and nasty to survive? Maybe we did... As I understand him, Ted believes that there's something fundamentally wrong with the wiring of our brains, which makes us incapable of consistent logical thinking. To make matters worse, though all creatures need a certain amount of aggressiveness to survive, we seem to have far more than is absolutely necessary. And no other animal tortures its fellows as we do. Is this an evolutionary accident – a piece of genetic bad luck?
“It's also widely agreed that TMA ONE was planted on the Moon to keep track of the project – experiment – whatever it was – and to report to Jupiter – the obvious place for Solar System Mission Control. That's why another Monolith – Big Brother – was waiting there. Had been waiting four million years, when Discovery arrived. Agreed so far?”
“Yes; I've always thought that was the most plausible theory.”
“Now for the more speculative stuff. Bowman was apparently swallowed up by Big Brother, yet something of his personality seems to have survived. Twenty years after that encounter with Heywood Floyd in the second Jupiter expedition, they had another contact aboard Universe, when Floyd joined it for the 2061 rendezvous with Halley's Comet. At least, so he tells us in his memoirs – though he was well over a hundred when he dictated them.”
“Could have been senile.”
“Not according to all the contemporary accounts! Also – perhaps even more significant – his grandson Chris had some equally weird experiences when Galaxy made its forced landing on Europa. And, of course, that's where the Monolith – or a Monolith – is, right now! Surrounded by Europans...”
“I'm beginning to see what Dr Ted's driving at. This is where we came in – the whole cycle's starting over again. The Europs are being groomed for stardom.”
“Exactly – everything fits. Jupiter ignited to give them a sun, to thaw out their frozen world. The warning to us to keep our distance – presumably so that we wouldn't interfere with their development...”
“Where have I heard that idea before? Of course, Frank – it goes back a thousand years – to your own time! "The Prime Directive"! We still get lots of laughs from those old Star Trek programs.”
“Did I ever tell you I once met some of the actors? They would have been surprised to see me now... And I've always had two thoughts about that non-interference policy. The Monolith certainly violated it with us, back there in Africa. One might argue that did have disastrous results...”
“So better luck next time – on Europa!' Poole laughed, without much humor. 'Khan used those exact words.”
“And what does he think we should do about it? Above all – where do you come into the picture?”
“First of all, we must find what's really happening on Europa – and why. Merely observing it from space is not enough.”
“What else can we do? All the probes the Medes have sent there were blown up, just before landing.”
“And ever since the mission t
o rescue Galaxy, crew-carrying ships have been diverted by some field of force, which no one can figure out. Very interesting: it proves that whatever is down there is protective, but not malevolent. And – this is the important point – it must have some way of scanning what's on the way. It can distinguish between robots and humans.”
“More than I can do, sometimes. Go on.”
“Well, Ted thinks there's one human being who might make it down to the surface of Europa – because his old friend is there, and may have some influence with the 'powers-that-be'.”
Captain Dimitri Chandler gave a long, low whistle.
“And you're willing to risk it?”
“Yes: what have I got to lose?”
“One valuable shuttle craft, if I know what you have in mind. Is that why you've been learning to fly Falcon?”
“Well, now that you mention it... the idea had occurred to me.”
“I'll have to think it over – I'll admit I'm intrigued, but there are lots of problems.”
“Knowing you, I'm sure they won't stand in the way – once you've decided to help me.”
22. Venture
MISS PRINGLE – LIST PRIORITY MESSAGES FROM EARTH
RECORD
Dear Indra – I'm not trying to be dramatic, but this may be my last message from Ganymede. By the time you receive it, I will be on my way to Europa.
Though it's a sudden decision – and no one is more surprised than I am – I've thought it over very carefully. As you'll have guessed, Ted Khan is largely responsible... let him do the explaining, if I don't come back. Please don't misunderstand me – in no way do I regard this as a suicide mission! But I'm ninety per cent convinced by Ted's arguments, and he's aroused my curiosity so much that I'd never forgive myself if I turned down this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Maybe I should say once in two lifetimes...
I'm flying Goliath's little one-person shuttle Falcon – how I'd have loved to demonstrate her to my old colleagues back at the Space Administration! Judging by past records, the most likely outcome is that I'll be diverted away from Europa before I can land. Even this will teach me something...
And if it – presumably the local Monolith, the Great Wall – decides to treat me like the robot probes it's zapped in the past, I'll never know. That's a risk I'm prepared to take.
Thank you for everything, and my very best to Joe. Love from Ganymede – and soon, I hope, from Europa.
STORE
TRANSMIT
IV. THE KINGDOM OF SULFUR
23. Falcon
“Europa's about four hundred thousand kay from Ganymede at the moment,” Captain Chandler informed Poole.
“If you stepped on the gas – thanks for teaching me that phrase! – Falcon could get you there in an hour. But I wouldn't recommend it: our mysterious friend might be alarmed by anyone coming in that fast.”
“Agreed and I want time to think. I'm going to take several hours, at least. And I'm still hoping...” Poole's voice trailed off into silence.
“Hoping what?”
“That I can make some sort of contact with Dave, or whatever it is, before I attempt to land.”
“Yes, it's always rude to drop in uninvited – even with people you know, let alone perfect strangers like the Europs. Perhaps you should take some gifts – what did the old-time explorers use? I believe mirrors and beads were once popular.”
Chandler's facetious tone did not disguise his real concern, both for Poole and for the valuable piece of equipment he proposed to borrow – and for which the skipper of Goliath was ultimately responsible.
“I'm still trying to decide how we work this. If you come back a hero, I want to bask in your reflected glory. But if you lose Falcon as well as yourself, what shall I say? That you stole the shuttle while we weren't looking? I'm afraid no one would buy that story. Ganymede Traffic Control's very efficient – has to be! If you left without advance notice, they'd be on to you in a microsec – well, a millisecond. No way you could leave unless I file your flight-plan ahead of time.”
“So this is what I propose to do, unless I think of something better.”
“You're taking Falcon out for a final qualification test – everyone knows you've already soloed. You'll go into a two thousand kilometer-high orbit above Europa – nothing unusual about that – people do it all the time, and the local authorities don't seem to object.”
“Estimated total flight time five hours plus or minus ten minutes. If you suddenly change your mind about coming home, no one can do anything about it – at least, no one on Ganymede. Of course, I'll make some indignant noises, and say how astonished I am by such gross navigational errors, etc., etc. Whatever will look best in the subsequent Court of Enquiry.”
“Would it come to that? I don't want to do anything that will get you into trouble.”
“Don't worry – it's time there was a little excitement round here. But only you and I know about this plot; try not to mention it to the crew – I want them to have – what was that other useful expression you taught me? – 'plausible deniability'.”
“Thanks, Dim – I really appreciate what you're doing. And I hope you'll never have to regret hauling me aboard Goliath, out round Neptune.”
• • •
Poole found it hard to avoid arousing suspicion, by the way he behaved towards his new crewmates as they prepared Falcon for what was supposed to be a short, routine flight. Only he and Chandler knew that it might be nothing of the kind.
Yet he was not heading into the totally unknown, as he and Dave Bowman had done a thousand years ago. Stored in the shuttle's memory were high-resolution maps of Europa showing details down to a few meters across. He knew exactly where he wished to go; it only remained to see if he would be allowed to break the centuries-long quarantine.
24. Escape
“Manual control, please.”
“Are you sure, Frank?”
“Quite sure, Falcon... Thank you.”
Illogical though it seemed, most of the human race had found it impossible not to be polite to its artificial children, however simple-minded they might be. Whole volumes of psychology, as well as popular guides (How Not to Hurt Your Computer's Feelings; Artificial Intelligence – Real Irritation were two of the best-known titles) had been written on the subject of Man-Machine etiquette. Long ago it had been decided that, however inconsequential rudeness to robots might appear to be, it should be discouraged. All too easily, it could spread to human relationships as well.
Falcon was now in orbit, just as her flight-plan had promised, at a safe two thousand kilometers above Europa. The giant moon's crescent dominated the sky ahead, and even the area not illuminated by Lucifer was so brilliantly lit by the much more distant Sun that every detail was clearly visible. Poole needed no optical aid to see his planned destination, on the still-icy shore of the Sea of Galilee, not far from the skeleton of the first spacecraft to land on this world. Though the Europans had long ago removed all its metal components, the ill-fated Chinese ship still served as a memorial to its crew; and it was appropriate that the only “town” – even if an alien one – on this whole world should have been named “Tsienville”.
Poole had decided to come down over the Sea, and then fly very slowly towards Tsienville – hoping that this approach would appear friendly, or at least non-aggressive. Though he admitted to himself that this was very naïve, he could think of no better alternative.
Then, suddenly, just as he was dropping below the thousand-kilometer level, there was an interruption – not of the kind he had hoped for, but one which he had been expecting.
“This is Ganymede Control calling Falcon. You have departed from your flight-plan. Please advise immediately what is happening.”
It was hard to ignore such an urgent request, but in the circumstances it seemed the best thing to do.
Exactly thirty seconds later, and a hundred kilometers closer to Europa, Ganymede repeated its message. Once again Poole ignored it – but Falcon did not.
>
“Are you quite sure you want to do this, Frank?” asked the shuttle. Though Poole knew perfectly well that he was imagining it, he would have sworn there was a note of anxiety in its voice.
“Quite sure, Falcon. I know exactly what I'm doing.”
That was certainly untrue, and any moment now further lying might be necessary, to a more sophisticated audience.
Seldom-activated indicator lights started to flash near the edge of the control board. Poole smiled with satisfaction: everything was going according to plan.
“This is Ganymede Control! Do you receive me, Falcon? You are operating on manual override, so I am unable to assist you. What is happening? You are still descending towards Europa. Please acknowledge immediately.”
Poole began to experience mild twinges of conscience. He thought he recognized the Controller's voice, and was almost certain that it was a charming lady he had met at a reception given by the Mayor, soon after his arrival at Anubis. She sounded genuinely alarmed.
Suddenly, he knew how to relieve her anxiety – as well as to attempt something which he had previously dismissed as altogether too absurd. Perhaps, after all, it was worth a try: it certainly wouldn't do any harm – and it might even work.
“This is Frank Poole, calling from Falcon. I am perfectly OK – but something seems to have taken over the controls, and is bringing the shuttle down towards Europa. I hope you are receiving this – I will continue to report as long as possible.”
Well, he hadn't actually lied to the worried Controller, and one day he hoped he would be able to face her with a clear conscience.