The Garden of Rama(Rama III)

RENDEZVOUS AT MARS Chapter 8
Eponine located Kimberly in the corner of the smoky room and sat down beside her. She accepted the cigarette her friend offered, lit it, and inhaled deeply.

"Ah, what pleasure," Eponine said softly as she expelled the smoke in small circles and watched it rise slowly toward the ventilators.

"As much as you love tobacco and nicotine," Kimberly said in a whisper from beside her, "I know that you would absolutely adore kokomo." The American girl took a drag from her cigarette. "I know that you don't believe me, Eponine, but it's actually better than sex."

"Not for me, mon came" Eponine replied in a warm, friendly tone. "I have enough vices. And I could never, never control something that was truly better than sex."

Kimberiy Henderson laughed heartily, her long blond locks bouncing on her shoulders. She was twenty-four, a year younger than her French colleague. The two of them were sitting in the smoking lounge attached to the women's shower. It was a tiny square room, no more than four meters on a side, in which a dozen women were currently standing or sitting, all smoking cigarettes.

"This room reminds me of the back room at Willie's in Evergreen, just outside of Denver," Kimberly said. "While a hundred or more cowboys and rednecks would be dancing and drinking in the main bar, eight or ten of us would retreat into Willie's sacred 'office,' as he called it, and f*ck ourselves completely up with kokomo."

Eponine stared through the haze at Kimberly. "At least in this lounge we aren't harassed by the men. They are absolutely impossible, even worse than the guys in the detention village at Bourges. These characters must think about nothing but sex all day long."

"That's understandable," Kimberly replied with another laugh. "They're not being closely watched for the first time in years. When Toshio's men sabotaged all the hidden monitors, everybody was suddenly free." She glanced over at Eponine. "But there's a grim side as well. There were two more rapes today, one right in the coed recreation area."

Kimberly finished one cigarette and immediately lit another. "You need someone to protect you," she continued, "and I know Walter would love the job. Because of Toshio, the cons have mostly stopped trying to hit on me. My main concern now is the ISA guards - they think they're hot shit. Only that gorgeous Italian hunk, Marcello something or other, interests me at all. He told me yesterday that he would make me 'moan with pleasure' if I would just join him in his room. I was sorely tempted until I saw one of Toshio's thugs watching the conversation."

Eponine also lit another cigarette. She knew it was ridiculous to smoke them one after another, but the passengers on the Santa Maria were only allowed three half-hour "breaks" each day and smoking was not permitted in the cramped living quarters. While Kimberly was momentarily sidetracked by a question from a burly woman in her early forties, Eponine thought about the first few days after they had left die Earth. Our third day out, she recalled, Naka-mura sent his go-between to see me. I must have been his first choice.

The huge Japanese man, a sumo wrestler before he became a bill collector for a notorious gambling ring, had bowed formally when he had approached her in the coed lounge. "Miss Eponine," he had said in heavily accented English, "my friend Nakamura-san has asked me to tell you that he finds you very beautiful. He offers you complete protection in exchange for your companionship and an occasional favor of pleasure."

The offer was attractive in some ways, Eponine remembered, and not unlike what most of the decent-looking women on the Santa Maria have eventually accepted. I knew at the time that Nakamura would be very powerful. But I didn't like his coldness. And I mistakenly thought that I could remain free.

"Ready?" Kimberly repeated. Eponine snapped out of her reverie. She stubbed out her cigarette and walked with her friend into the dressing room. While they were taking off their clothes and preparing to shower, at least a dozen eyes feasted on their magnificent bodies.

"Doesn't it bother you," Eponine asked when they were standing side by side in the shower, "to have these dykes devouring you with their eyes?"

"Nope," Kimberly replied. "In a way I enjoy it. It's certainly flattering. There are not many women here who look like we do. It arouses me to have them stare so hungrily at me."

Eponine rinsed the soapy lamer off her full, firm breasts and- leaned over to Kimberly. "Then you have had sex with another woman?" she asked.

"Of course," Kimberly replied with another deep laugh. "Haven't you?"

Without waiting for a response, the American woman launched into one of her stories. "My first dealer in Denver was a dyke. I was only eighteen and absolutely perfect from head to toe. When Loretta first saw me naked, she thought she'd died and gone to heaven. I had just entered nursing school and couldn't afford much dope. So I made a deal with Loretta. She could f*ck me, but only if she kept me supplied with cocaine. Our affair lasted almost six months. By then I was dealing on my own and, besides, I had fallen in love with the Magician.

"Poor Loretta," Kimberly continued as she and Eponine dried each other's backs in the lavatory that adjoined the shower. "She was brokenhearted. She offered me everything, including her client list. Eventually she became a nuisance, so I undercut her and had the Magician force her out of Denver."

Kimberly saw a fleeting look of disapproval on Epo-nine's face. "Jesus," she said, "there you go again, turning moral on me. You're the softest goddamn murderer I have ever met. Sometimes you remind me of all the goody two-shoes in my high school graduating class."

As they were about to leave the shower area, a tiny black girl with her hair in braids came up behind them. "You Kimberly Henderson?" she said.

"Yes." Kimberly nodded, turning around. "But why - "

"Is your man the king Jap Nakamura?" the girl interrupted.

Kimberly did not reply.

"If so, I need your help," the black girl continued.

"What do you want?" Kimberly asked in a noncommittal tone.

The girl suddenly broke into tears. "My man Reuben didn't mean nothing. He was drunk on that shit the guards sell. He didn't know he was talking to the king Jap."

Kimberly waited for the girl to dry her tears. "What have you got?" she whispered.

"Three knives and two joints of dynamite kokomo," the black girl replied in the same soft whisper.

"Bring them to me," Kimberly said with a smile. "And I'll arrange a time for your Reuben to apologize to Mr. Nakamura."

"You don't like Kimberly, do you?" Eponine said to Walter Brackeen. He was a huge American Negro with soft eyes and absolutely magical fingers on a keyboard. He was playing a light jazz medley and staring at his beautiful lady while his three roommates were out, by agreement, in the common areas.

"No, I don't," Walter replied slowly. "She's not like us. She can be very funny, but underneath I think she's truly bad."

"What do you mean?"

Walter changed to a soft ballad, with an easier melody, and played for almost a full minute before speaking. "I guess in the eyes of the law we're all equal, all murderers. But not in my eyes. I squashed the life out of a man who sodomized my baby brother. You killed a crazy bastard who was ruining your life." Walter paused for a moment and rolled his eyes. "But that friend of yours Kimberly, she and her boyfriend offed three people they didn't even know just for drugs and money."

"She was stoned at the time."

"No matter," Walter said. "Each of us is always responsible for his behavior. If I put shit in me that makes me awful, that's my mistake. But I can't cop out of the responsibility for my actions."

"She had a perfect record in the detention center. Every one of the doctors who worked with her said she was an excellent nurse."

Walter stopped playing his keyboard and stared at Eponine for several seconds. "Let's not talk about Kimberly anymore," he said. "We have little enough time together... Have you thought about my proposition?"

Eponine sighed. "Yes, I have, Walter. And although I like you, and enjoy making love with you, the arrangement you suggested sounds too much like a commitment... Besides, I think this is mostly for your ego. Unless I miss my guess, you prefer Malcolm - "

"Malcolm has nothing to do with us," Walter interrupted. "He's been my close friend for years, since the very first days I entered the Georgia detention compound. We play music together. We share sex when we're both lonely. We're soul mates - "

"I know, I know... Malcolm's not really the central issue. It's more the principle of the thing that bothers me. I do like you, Walter, you know that. But..." Her voice trailed off as Eponine struggled with her mixed feelings.

"We're three weeks away from Earth," Walter said, "and we have six more weeks before we reach Mars. I am the largest man on the Santa Maria. If I say that you're my girl, nobody will bother you for those six weeks."

Eponine recalled an unpleasant scene just that morning where two German inmates had discussed how easy it would be to commit rape in the convict quarters. They had known that she was within earshot but had made no effort to lower their voices.

At length she put herself in Walter's huge arms. "All right," she said softly. "But don't expect too much... I'm sort of a difficult woman."

"I think Walter may have a heart problem," Eponine said in a whisper. It was the middle of the night and their other two roommates were asleep. Kimberly, in the bunk below Eponine, was still stoned on the kokomo she had smoked two hours earlier. Sleep would be impossible for her for several more hours.

"The rules on this ship are f*cking stupid," Kimberly said. "Christ, even in the Pueblo Detention Complex there were fewer regulations. Why the hell can't we stay in the common areas after midnight? What harm are we doing?"

"He has occasional chest pains and, if we have vigorous sex, he often complains afterward of shortness of breath... Do you think you could take a look at him?"

"And how about that Marcello? Huh! What a stupid ass! He tells me I can stay up all night if I want to come to his room. While I'm sitting there with Toshio. What does he think he's doing? I mean, not even the guards can mess with the king Jap... What did you say, Eponine?"

Eponine raised herself on an elbow and leaned over the side of the bed. "Walter Brackeen, Kirn," she said. "I'm talking about Walter Brackeen. Can you slow yourself down enough to pay attention to what I'm saying?"

"All right. All right. What about your Walter? What does he want? Everybody wants something from the king Jap. I guess that makes me the queen, at least in a way - "

"I think Walter has a bad heart," the exasperated Eponine repeated in a loud voice. "I would like for you to look at him."

"Shh," Kimberly replied. "They'll come bust us, like they did that crazy Swedish girl... Shit, Ep, I'm no doctor. I can tell when a heartbeat is irregular, but that's all. You ought to take Walter to that con doctor who's really a cardiologist, what's his name, the super quiet one who stays to himself when he's not examining somebody - "

"Dr. Robert Turner," Eponine interrupted.

"That's the one... very professional, aloof, distant, never speaks except in doctorese, hard to believe he blew the heads off two men in a courtroom with a shotgun, it just doesn't figure - "

"How do you know tkalT' Eponine said.

"Marcello told me. I was curious, we were laughing, he was teasing me, saying things like 'Does that Jap make you moan?' and 'How about mat quiet heart doctor, can he make you moan?'"

"Christ, Kim," Eponine said, now alarmed, "have you been going to bed with Marcello too?"

Her roommate laughed. "Only twice. He talks better man he f*cks. And what an ego. At least the king Jap is appreciative."

"Does Nakamura know?"

"Do you think I'm crazy?" Kimberly replied. "I don't want to die. But he may be suspicious... I won't do it again, but if that Dr. Turner were to so much as whisper in my ear I would cream all over myself..."

Kimberly continued her rambling chatter. Eponine thought briefly about Dr. Robert Turner. He had examined Eponine soon after launch when she had been having some peculiar spotting. He never even noticed my body, she remembered. II was a thoroughly professional examination.

Eponine tuned Kimberly out of her mind and focused on an image of the handsome doctor. She was surprised to discover that she was feeling a spark of romantic interest. There was something definitely mysterious about the doctor, for there was nothing in his manner or personality that was the least bit consistent with a double murder. There must be an interesting story, she thought.

Eponine was dreaming. It was the same nightmare that she had had a hundred times since the murder. Professor Moreau was lying with his eyes closed on me floor of his studio, blood streaming out of his chest. Eponine walked over to the basin, cleaned the large carving knife, and placed it back on the counter. As she stepped over the body those hated eyes opened. She saw the wild insanity in his eyes. He reached out for her with his arms -

"Nurse Henderson. Nurse Henderson." The knocking on the door was louder. Eponine awakened from her dream and rubbed her eyes. Kimberly and another of their roommates reached the door almost simultaneously.

Walter's friend Malcolm Peabody, a diminutive, effete white man in his early forties, was standing at the door. He was frantic. "Dr. Turner sent me for a nurse. Come quickly. Walter's had a heart attack."

As Kimberly began to dress, Eponine glided down from her bunk. "How is he, Malcolm?" she asked, pulling on her robe. "Is he dead?"

Malcolm was momentarily confused. "Oh, hi, Eponine," he said meekly. "I had forgotten that you and Nurse Henderson... When I left he was still breathing, but - "

Being careful to keep one foot on the floor at all times, Eponine hurried out the door, down the corridor, into the central common area, and then into the men's living quarters. Alarms sounded as the main monitors followed her progress. When she reached the entrance to Walter's wing, Eponine paused for a moment to catch her breath.

A crowd of people was standing in the corridor outside of Walter's room. His door was open wide and the bottom third of his body was lying outside, in the hallway. Eponine pushed her way through the crowd and into the room.

Dr. Robert Turner was kneeling beside his patient, holding electronic prods against Walter's naked chest. The big man's body recoiled with each jolt, and then rose slightly off the floor before the doctor pushed it down again against the surface.

Dr. Turner glanced up when Eponine arrived. "Are you the nurse?" he asked brusquely.

For a fleeting moment Eponine was speechless. And embarrassed. Here her friend was dying or dead and all she could think about was Dr. Turner's practically perfect blue eyes. "No," she said at length, definitely flustered.

"I'm the girlfriend... Nurse Henderson is my roommate... She should be here any minute."

Kimberly and two ISA guard escorts arrived at that moment. "His heart stopped completely forty-five seconds ago," Dr. Turner said to Kimberly. "It's too late to move him to the infirmary. I'm going to open him up and try to use the Komori stimulator. Did you bring your gloves?"

While Kimberly pulled on her gloves, Dr. Turner ordered the crowd away from his patient. Eponine didn't move. When the guards grabbed her by the arms, the doctor mumbled something and the guards released her.

Dr. Turner handed Kimberly his set of surgical tools and then, working with both incredible speed and skill, cut a deep incision into Walter's chest. He laid back the folds of the skin, exposing the heart and rib cage. "Have you been through this procedure before, Nurse Henderson?" he asked.

"No," Kimberly replied.

"The Komori stimulator is an electrochemical device that attaches to the heart, forcing it to beat and continue to pump blood. If the pathology is temporary, like a blood clot or a spastic valve, then sometimes the problem can be fixed and the patient's heart will start functioning again."

Dr. Turner inserted the stamp-sized Komori stimulator behind the left ventricle of the heart and applied the power from the portable control system on the floor beside him. Walter's heart began to beat slowly three or four seconds later. "We have about eight minutes now to find the problem," the doctor said to himself.

He finished his analysis of the organ's primary subsystems in less than a minute. "No clots," he mumbled, "and no bad vessels or valves... So why did it stop beating?"

Dr. Turner gingerly lifted up the throbbing heart and inspected the muscles underneath. The muscular tissue around the right auricle was discolored and soft. He touched it very lightly with the end of one of his pointed instruments and portions of the tissue flaked off.

"My God," the doctor said, "what in the world is this?" While Dr. Turner was holding the heart up, Walter Brackeen's heart contracted again and one of the long fiber structures in the middle of die discolored muscular tissue started to unravel. "What the - " Turner blinked twice and put his right hand on his cheek.

"Look at this, Nurse Henderson," he said quietly. "It's absolutely amazing. The muscles here have atrophied completely. I've never seen anything like it. We cannot help this man."

Eponine's eyes filled with tears as Dr. Turner withdrew the Komori stimulator and Walter's heart stopped beating again. Kimberly started to remove the clamps holding back me skin and tissue around the heart, but the doctor stopped her. "Not yet," he said. "Let's take him over to the infirmary so I can perform a full autopsy. I want to learn whatever I can."

The guards and two of Walter's roommates eased the large man onto a gurney and the body was removed from the living quarters. Malcolm Peabody sobbed quietly on Walter's bunk. Eponine walked over to him. They shared a silent hug and then sat together, holding hands, for most of the rest of the night.