Nicole was now out of her league. Her software and system engineering knowledge had been stretched to the limit in satisfying herself that there had been no error in the loaded software. To determine whether and when commands might have changed the code or parameters after they were installed in RoSur required someone who could read machine language and carefully interrogate tbe billions of bits of data that had been stored during the entire procedure. Nicole’s investigation was stalled until she could find someone to help her. Maybe I should give this up? a voice inside her said. How could you, another voice replied, until you know for certain the cause of General Borzov’s death? At the root of Nicole’s desire to know the answer was a desperate yearning to prove for certain that his death had not been her fault.

She turned away from her terminal and collapsed on her bed. As she was lying there, she remembered her surprise during the thirty-second inspection period when Borzov’s appendix had been in plain view, He definitely wasn “t having an appendicitis, she thought. Without having any particular motive, Nicole returned to her terminal and accessed the second set of data that she had had evaluated by the electronic diagnostician, just prior to her decision to operate. She glanced only briefly at the 92% likely appendicitis on tbe first screen, moving instead to the backup diagnoses. This time drug reac­tion was listed as the second most likely cause, with a 4 percent probability. Nicole now called for the data to be displayed in another way. She asked a statistical routine to compute the likely cause of the symptoms, given the fact that it could not be an appendicitis.

The results flashed up on the monitor in seconds. Nicole was astonished. According to the data, if the biometry information input from Borzov’s probe set was analyzed under the assumption that the cause for the abnor­malities could not be an appendicitis, then there was a 62 percent chance that it was due to a drug reaction. Before Nicole was able to complete any more analysis, there was a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she said, continuing to work at her terminal. Nicole turned and saw Irina Turgenyev standing in the doorway. The Soviet pilot said nothing for a moment.

“They asked me to come for you,” Irina said haltingly. She was very shy around everyone except her countrymen Tabori and Borzov. “We’re having a meeting of the crew down in the lobby.”

Nicole saved her temporary data files and joined Irina in the corridor. “What sort of meeting is it?” she asked.

“An organizational meeting,” Irina answered. She said nothing more.

There was a heated exchange in process between Reggie Wilson and David Brown when the two women reached the lobby. “Am I to understand, then,” Dr. Brown was saying sarcastically, “that you believe the Rama space­craft purposely decided to maneuver at precisely that moment? Would you like to explain to all of us how this asteroid of dumb metal happened to know that General Borzov was having an appendectomy at that very minute? And while you’re at it, will you explain why this supposedly malevolent spaceship has allowed us to attach ourselves and has done nothing to dissuade us from continuing our mission?”

Reggie Wilson glanced around the room for support. “You’re logic-chop­ping again, Brown,” he said, his frustration obvious. “What you say always sounds logical on the surface. But I’m not the only member of this crew that found the coincidence unnerving. Look, here’s Irina Turgenyev. She’s the one who suggested the connection to me in the first place.”

Dr. Brown acknowledged the arrival of the two women. There was an authority in the way he was asking the questions that suggested he was in control of the gathering. “Is that right, Irina?” David Brown asked. “Do you feel, like Wilson, that Rama was trying to send us some specific message by performing its maneuver during the general’s operation?”

Irina and Hiro Yamanaka were the two cosmonauts who spoke the least during crew meetings. With all eyes turned toward her, Irina mumbled “No” very meekly.

“But when we were discussing it last night—” Wilson insisted to the Soviet pilot.

“That’s enough on that subject,” David Brown interrupted imperiously. “I think we have a consensus, shared by our mission control officers on Earth, that the Raman maneuver was coincidence and not conspiracy.” He looked at the fuming Reggie Wilson. “Now we have other more important issues to discuss. I would like to ask Admiral Heilmann to tell us what he has learned about the leadership problem.”

Otto Heilmann stood up on cue and read from his notes. “According to the Newton procedures, in the event of the death or the incapacity of the commanding officer, the crew is expected to complete all sequences then under way in accordance with previous directions. However, once those in-process activities are finished, the cosmonauts are supposed to wait for the Earth to name a new commanding officer.”

David Brown jumped back into the conversation. “Admiral Heilmann and I started discussing our situation about an hour ago and we quickly realized that we had valid reasons for being concerned. The ISA is wrapped up in their investigation of General Borzov’s death. They have not even begun to think about his replacement. Once they do start, it may take them weeks to decide. Remember, this is the same bureaucracy that was never able to select a deputy for Borzov, so they eventually decided that he didn’t need one.” He paused several seconds to allow the rest of the crew members to consider what he was saying.

“Otto suggested that maybe we should not wait for the Earth to decide,” Dr. Brown continued. “It was his idea that we should develop our own management structure, one that is acceptable to all of us here, and then send it to the ISA as a recommendation. Admiral Heilmann thinks they will accept it because it will avoid what could be a protracted debate.”

“Admiral Heilmann and Dr. Brown came to see me with this idea,” Janos Tabori now chimed in, “and emphasized how important it is for us to get started with our mission inside Rama. They even laid out a strawman organi­zation that made sense to me. Since none of us has the broad experience of General Borzov, they suggested that maybe we should now have two leaders, possibly Admiral Heilmann and Dr. Brown themselves. Otto would cover the military and spacecraft engineering issues; Dr. Brown would lead the Rama exploration effort.”

“And what happens when they disagree or their areas of responsibility overlap?” asked Richard Wakefield.

“In that case,” Admiral Heilmann responded, “we would submit the item in question to a vote of all the cosmonauts.”

“Isn’t this cute?” said Reggie Wilson. He was still angry. He had been taking notes on his keyboard but now he stood up to address the rest of the cosmonauts. “Brown and Heilmann just happened to be worrying about this critical problem and they just happened to have developed a new leadership structure in which all the power and responsibility are divided between them. Am I the only one here who smells something fishy?”

“Now come on, Reggie,” Francesca Sabatini said forcefully. She dropped her video camera to her side. “There is sound logic in the strawman pro­posal. Dr. Brown is our senior scientist. Admiral Heilmann has been a close colleague of Valeriy Borzov’s for many years. None of us has a solid overall command of all aspects of the mission. To split the duties would be—”

It was difficult for Reggie Wilson to argue with Francesca. Nevertheless, he did interrupt her before she was finished. “I disagree with this plan,” he said in a subdued tone. “I think we should have a single leader. And based on what I have observed during my time with this crew, there’s only one cosmo­naut that we could all easily follow. That’s General O’Toole.” He waved in the direction of his fellow American. “If this is a democracy, I nominate him as our new commanding officer.”