Were there any indications of stress in Ellie or Eponine, suggesting that perhaps they might have been coerced into making the film? Did they appear to have lost any weight? Did they look rested?
“I believe we now know much more about the nature of our hosts,” Richard said near the end of the family’s second and more lengthy discussion of Robert’s story. “First and foremost, it is clear that the octospiders, or whatever species is in charge here, both observe us regularly and are able to understand our conversations. There is no other possible explanation for the fact that the film showed to Max and Robert featured Ellie and Eponine.
“Second, their technological level, at least where motion pictures are concerned, is either several hundred years behind ours, or, if Robert is right when he insists that there could not have been a projecting device either in the room or behind the wall, they are so far advanced that their technology appears like magic to us. Third—”
“But Uncle Richard,” Patrick interrupted. “Why didn’t the motion picture have sound? Wouldn’t it have been much easier for Eponine and Ellie just to say they were all right? Isn’t it more likely that the octospiders are deaf than it is that their technology has not developed beyond silent movies?”
“What an interesting idea, Patrick,” Richard replied. “That’s something we have never even considered. And of course they don’t need to hear to communicate.”
“Creatures that have spent most of their evolutionary lives deep in the ocean are often deaf,” Nicole offered. “Their primary sensory needs for survival are at other wavelengths, and with only a limited number of cells available for both the sensors and their processing, the ability to hear simply never develops.”
“I worked with the hearing impaired in Thailand,” Nai added, “and I was fascinated by the fact that being unable to hear is not a significant drawback in an advanced culture. The sign language of the deaf has extraordinary range and is quite complex. Humans on Earth no longer need to hear to hunt or to escape animals that might prey on them. The octospider language of colors is more than adequate for communication.”
“Hold on just a minute,” Robert said. “Aren’t we overlooking some pretty strong evidence that the octospiders can hear? How could they have known that Max and I were going out to find Ellie and Eponine if they didn’t overhear our conversation?”
There was silence for several seconds. “They might have had the two women translate what was being said,” Richard suggested.
“But mat would require two unlikely events,” Patrick said. “First, if the octospiders are deaf, why would they have sophisticated miniaturized equipment available that would record sounds at all? Second, having Eponine and Ellie translate what we said for the octospiders implies a level of communication interaction that could hardly have developed in a month’s time… No, in my opinion, the octos probably determined the purpose of Max and Robert’s trip on the basis of visual evidence-the portraits of the two women on the portable computer monitors.”
“Bravo,” shouted Richard. “That’s excellent thinking.”
“Are you guys going to yak about this shit all night long?” Max said as he walked into the middle of the group.
Everyone jumped up. “Are you all right?” Nicole asked.
“Sure,” said Max. “I even feel well rested.”
“Tell us what happened,” Robert interrupted. “I heard your rifle fire, but by the time I came around the corner, a pair of octospiders was already carrying your body.”
“I don’t know myself,” Max said. “Just before I passed out I felt a stinging hot pain in the back of my neck… That was it. One of the octos behind me must have hit me with their equivalent of a tranquilizing dart.”
Max rubbed the back of his neck. Nicole came over to inspect. “I cannot even find a small hole now,” she said. “They must use very thin darts.”
Max glanced at Robert. “I don’t suppose you retrieved the rifle.”
“I’m sorry, Max,” Robert said. “I never even thought about it until after we were on the train.”
Max looked at his friends. “Well, guys, I want you to know my rebellion is over. I’m convinced we cannot fight these creatures. So we might as well try to follow their plan.”
Nicole put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “This is the new Max Puckett,” she said with a smile.
“I may be stubborn,” Max replied with a smile of his own, “but I don’t believe I’m stupid.”
“I don’t think we’re all supposed to move into Patrick’s igloo,” Max said the next morning after another subway had come and replenished their food and water.
“Why do you say that?” Richard asked. “Look at the evidence. The igloo was definitely designed for human habitation. Why else would they have built the staircase?”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Max replied. “Especially for the children. There’s not enough room to live for any period of time. I think the igloo is some kind of way-station-a cabin in the woods, if you like.”
Nicole tried to imagine the ten of them living in the cramped quarters that Patrick had described. “I can see your point, Max,” she said, “but what do you suggest?”
“Why don’t a few of us return to the igloo and look around carefully? Patrick’s quick reconnoiter may have missed something. Anyway, whatever we’re supposed to do should be obvious. It wouldn’t be like the octospiders, or whatever is guiding us, to leave us in uncertainty.”
Richard, Max, and Patrick were selected for the scouting mission. Their departure was delayed, however, so that Patrick could keep his promise to Galileo. Patrick followed the five-year-old up the long, winding staircase and down the hallway to the bottom of the second stairs. The boy was too exhausted to climb any more. In fact, when they were coming down from the dome, the little boy’s legs gave out and Patrick had to carry Galileo the final twelve meters of the descent.
“Can you make it up a second time?” Richard asked Patrick.
“I believe so,” said Patrick, adjusting his pack.
“At least now he won’t be waiting for us old farts all the time,” Max said with a grin.
The three men stopped to admire the view from the landing at the top of the cylindrical stairs. “Sometimes,” Max said, as he took a long look at the magnificent colors of the rainbow strips in the dome only a few meters above him, “I think that everything that has happened to me since I boarded the Pinta is a dream. How do pigs, chicken’s, and even Arkansas fit into this picture? It’s just too much.”
“It must be difficult,” Patrick said while they were walking along the hallway, “to reconcile all this with your normal life on Earth. But consider my situation. I was born on an extraterrestrial spacecraft headed for an artificial world located near the star Sirius. I have spent more than half my life asleep. I have no idea what normal means.”
“Shit, Patrick,” Max said, putting his arm around the young man, “if I were you I would be as crazy as a bedbug.”
Later, when they were climbing the second stairs, Max stopped and turned to Richard below him. “I hope you realize, Wakefield,” he said in a warm tone, “that I’m just an ornery bastard and didn’t mean anything personal during our arguments the last few days.”
Richard smiled. “I understand, Max. I also know that I’m as arrogant as you are ornery. I will accept your oblique apology if you will accept mine.”
Max feigned indignation. “That wasn’t a damn apology,” he said, walking up to the next step.
The igloo hut was just as Patrick had described it. The three men pulled on their jackets and prepared to go outside. Richard, who was the first one out the door, saw the other igloo before Max and Patrick had even taken their first breath of the bracing Rama air.
“That other igloo wasn’t there, Uncle Richard,” Patrick insisted. “I walked completely around the area.”
The second igloo, which was almost exactly one-tenth the size of the larger hut, was about thirty meters farther away from the cliff bordering the Cylindrical Sea. It was glowing in the Rama dark. As the men started walking toward it, the door of the smaller igloo opened and two tiny human figures came out. The figures were about twenty centimeters high and were illuminated from the inside.
“What the hell…?” Max exclaimed.
“Look,” said Patrick excitedly, “it’s Mother and Uncle Richard!”
The two figures turned south in the darkness, away from the cliff and the sea. Richard, Max, and Patrick scrambled up beside them for a better view. The figures were dressed in exactly the same clothes that Richard and Nicole had worn the previous day. The attention to detail was extraordinary. The hair, faces, skin coloring, even the shape and color of Richard’s beard, were a perfect match for the Wakefields. The figures were also wearing backpacks.
