2061 Odyssey Three

chapter 42 Minilith
This time, Floyd was quite sure he was dreaming...

He had never been able to sleep well in zero gravity, and Universe was now coasting, unpowered, at maximum velocity. In two days it would start almost a week of steady deceleration, throwing away its enormous excess speed until it was able to rendezvous with Europa.

However many times he adjusted the restraining straps, they always seemed either too tight or too loose. He would have difficulty in breathing - or else he would find himself drifting out of his bunk.

Once he had awoken in mid-air, and had flailed away for several minutes until, exhausted, he had managed to 'swim' the few metres to the nearest wall. Not until then had he remembered that he should merely have waited; the room ventilating system would have soon pulled him to the exhaust grille without any exertion on his part. As a seasoned space-traveller, he knew this perfectly well; his only excuse was simple panic.

But tonight, he had managed to get everything right; probably when weight returned, he would have difficulty in readjusting to that. He had lain awake for only a few minutes, recapitulating the latest discussion at dinner, and had then fallen asleep.

In his dreams, he had continued the conversation around the table. There had been a few trifling changes, which he accepted without surprise. Willis, for example, had grown his beard back - though on only one side of his face. This, Floyd presumed, was in aid of some research project, though he found it difficult to imagine its purpose.

In any event, he had his own worries. He was defending himself against the criticisms of Space Administrator Millson, who had somewhat surprisingly joined their little group. Floyd wondered how he had come aboard Universe (could he possibly have stowed away?). The fact that Millson had been dead for at least forty years seemed much less important.

'Heywood,' his old enemy was saying, 'the White House is most upset.'

'I can't imagine why.'

'That radio message you've just sent to Europa. Did it have State Department clearance?'

'I didn't think it was necessary. I merely asked permission to land.'

'Ah - but that's it. Who did you ask? Do we recognize the government concerned? I'm afraid it's all very irregular...

Millson faded away, still tut-tutting. I'm very glad this is only a dream, thought Floyd. Now what?

Well, I might have expected it. Hello, old friend. You come in all sizes, don't you? Of course, even TMA 1 couldn't have squeezed into my cabin - and its Big Brother could easily have swallowed Universe in one gulp.

The black monolith was standing - or floating - only two metres from his bunk. With an uncomfortable shock of recognition, Floyd realized that it was not only the same shape, but also the same size, as an ordinary tombstone. Although the resemblance had often been pointed out to him, until now the incongruity of scale had lessened the psychological impact. Now, for the first time, he felt the likeness was disquieting - even sinister. I know this is only a dream - but at my age, I don't want any reminders...

Anyway - what are you doing here? Do you bring a message from Dave Bowman? Are you Dave Bowman?

Well, I didn't really expect an answer; you weren't very talkative in the past, were you? But things always happened when you were around. Back in Tycho, sixty years ago, you sent that signal to Jupiter, to tell your makers that we'd dug you up. And look what you did to Jupiter, when we got there a dozen years later!

What are you up to now?