The Garden of Rama(Rama III)

THE TRIAL Chapter 9
The light from the solitary window in the cell made a pattern on the dirt wall opposite Nicole's bed. The bars on the window created a reflected square with a tic-tac-toe design, a near perfect three-by-three matrix. The light in her cell signaled to Nicole that it was time to rise. She crossed the room from the wooden bunk on which she had been sleeping and washed her face in the basin. She then took a deep breath and tried to summon her strength for another day.

Nicole was fairly certain that her latest prison, where she had been for about five months, was somewhere in the New Eden farming strip between Hakone and San Mi-guel. She had been blindfolded when they had moved her the last time. Nicole had quickly concluded, however, that she was in a rural location. Occasionally a strong smell of animals drifted into her cell through the forty-centimeter-square window just below the ceiling. In addition, Nicole could see no reflected light of any kind outside the window when it was night in New Eden.

These last months have been the worst, Nicole thought as she stood on tiptoe to push a few grams of flavored rice through the window. No conversation, no reading, no exercise. Two meals a day of rice and water. The little red squirrel who visited her each morning appeared outside. Nicole could hear him. She backed across the cell so she could see him eating the rice.

"You are my only company, my handsome friend," Nicole said out loud. The squirrel stopped eating and listened, always alert for any possible danger. "And you have never understood a single word that I have said."

The squirrel didn't stay long. When he had finished eating his ration of rice, he departed, leaving Nicole alone. For several minutes she stared out the window where the squirrel had been, wondering what was happening with her family.

Until six months earlier, when her trial for sedition had been "indefinitely postponed" at the last minute, Nicole had been allowed one visitor each week for one hour. Even though the conversation had been chaperoned by a guard, and any discussion of politics or current events had been strictly prohibited, she had eagerly awaited those weekly sessions with Ellie or Patrick. Usually it had been Ellie who had come. From some very carefully worded statements by both her children, Nicole had deduced that Patrick was involved in some kind of government work and was only available at limited times.

Nicole had been first angry, and then depressed, when she had learned that Benjy had been institutionalized and would not be permitted to see her. Ellie had tried to assure her mother that Benjy was all right, considering the circumstances. There had been very little discussion of Katie. Neither Patrick nor Ellie had known how to explain to Nicole that then older sister had really shown no interest in visiting her mother.

Ellie's pregnancy was always a safe topic of conversation during those earlier visits. Nicole was thrilled to touch her daughter's stomach, or to talk about the special feelings of a mother-to-be. If Ellie would mention how active the baby was, Nicole would share and compare her own experiences ("When I was pregnant with Patrick," Nicole said one time, "I was never tired. You, on the other hand, were a mother's nightmare - always thrashing around in the middle of the night when I wanted to sleep"); if Ellie was not feeling well, Nicole would prescribe foods or physical activities that had helped her deal with the same conditions.

Elite's last visit had been two months before the due date for the baby. Nicole had been moved to her new cell the following week, and had not talked to a human being since then. The mute biots who attended Nicole never gave any indication that they even heard her questions. Once, in a pique of frustration, she had shouted at the Tiasso giving her the weekly bath. "Don't you understand?" she had said. "My daughter was supposed to have a baby, my grandchild, sometime last week. I need to know if they are all right."

In her previous cells Nicole had always been allowed to read. New bookdiscs had been brought to her from the library whenever she had asked, so the days between visits had passed fairly quickly. She had reread almost all her father's historical novels, as well as some poetry, history, and a few of her more interesting medical books. Nicole had been especially fascinated by the parallels between her life and the lives of her two childhood heroines, Joan of Arc and Eleanor of Aquitaine. Nicole buttressed her own strength by noting that neither of the two other women allowed her basic attitudes to change despite long and difficult periods in prison.

Right after she was moved, when the Garcia who attended her in the new cell did not return her electronic reader with her personal effects, Nicole thought that a simple mistake had been made. However, after she asked for the reader several times and it still never appeared, she realized that she was now being denied the privilege of reading.

The time passed very slowly for Nicole in her new cell. For several hours each day she deliberately paced about, trying to keep her body and mind active. She attempted to organize these pacing sessions, steering them away from thoughts about her family, which inevitably caused her feelings of loneliness and depression to intensify, and toward more general philosophic concepts or ideas. Often at the conclusion of these sessions she would focus on some past event in her life and try to derive some new or meaningful insight from it.

During one such session Nicole remembered sharply a sequence of events that had taken place when she was fifteen years old. By that time she and her father were already comfortably ensconced at Beauvois and Nicole was performing brilliantly at school. She decided to enter the national competition to select three girls to play Joan of Arc in the set of pageants that would commemorate the 750th anniversary of the maid's martyrdom at Rouen. Nicole threw herself into the contest with a passion and sin-gle-mindedness that both thrilled and worried her father. After Nicole won the regional contest at Tours, Pierre even stopped working on his novels for six weeks to help his beloved daughter prepare for the national finals at Rouen.

Nicole placed first in both the athletic and intellectual components of the contest. She even scored very high in die acting evaluations. She and her father had been certain that she was going to be selected. But when the winners were announced, Nicole had been a second runner-up.

For years, Nicole thought as she walked around her cell in New Eden, I thought that I had failed. What my father said about France not being ready for a copper-skinned Joan of Arc did not matter. In my mind I was a failure. I was devastated. My self-esteem did not really recover until the Olympics, and then it was only a few days before Henry knocked me down again.

The price was terrible, Nicole continued. I was completely self-absorbed for years because of my lack of self-esteem. It was much later before I was finally happy with myself. And only then was I able to give to others. She paused for a moment in her thoughts. Why is it that so many of us go through the same experience? Why is youth so selfish, and why must we first find ourselves to realize how much more there is to life?

When the Garcia who always brought her meals included some fresh bread and a few raw carrots with her dinner, Nicole suspected that there was about to be a change in her regimen. Two days later the Tiasso came into her cell with a portable bathtub, a hairbrush, some makeup, a mirror, and even a small bottle of perfume. Nicole took a long, luxurious bath and freshened herself for the first time in months. As the biot picked up the wooden tub and prepared to leave, it handed her a note. "You will have a visitor tomorrow morning," the note said.

Nicole could not sleep. In the morning she chattered like a little girl to her friend the squirrel, discussing both her hopes and her anxieties about the coming rendezvous. She fussed with her face and hair several times before declaring both of them to be hopeless. The time went by very slowly.

At long last, just before lunch, she heard human footsteps coming down the corridor toward her cell. Nicole rushed forward expectantly. "Katie," she yelled when she saw her daughter walking around the final corridor.

"Hello, Mother," Katie said, unlocking the door and entering the cell. The two women hugged for many seconds. Nicole did not try to restrain the tears that were pouring from her eyes.

They sat on Nicole's bed, the only furniture in the cell, and talked amiably for several minutes about the family. Katie informed Nicole that she had a new granddaughter ("Nicole des Jardins Turner," she said. "You should be very proud"), and then pulled out about twenty photographs. The pictures included recent snapshots of the baby with her parents, Ellie and Benjy together in a park somewhere, Patrick in a uniform, and even a couple of Katie in an evening dress. Nicole studied them, one by one, her eyes brimming repeatedly. "Oh, Katie," she exclaimed several times.

When she was finished, Nicole thanked her daughter profusely for having brought the photographs. "You can have them, Mother," Katie said, standing up and walking over to the window. She opened her purse and pulled out cigarettes and a lighter.

"Darling," Nicole said hesitantly, "would you please not smoke in here? The ventilation is terrible. I would smell it for weeks."

Katie stared at her mother for a few seconds and then placed her cigarettes and lighter back in her purse. At that moment a pair of Garcias arrived outside the cell with a table and two chairs.

"What's this?" Nicole asked,

Katie smiled. "We're going to have lunch together," she said. "I've had something special prepared for the occasion - chicken in a mushroom and wine sauce."

The food, which smelled divine, was soon carried into the cell by a third Garcia and placed on the covered table beside the fine china and silver. There was even a bottle of wine and two crystal glasses.

It was difficult for Nicole to remember her manners. The chicken was so delicious, the mushrooms so tender, that she ate her meal without talking. Every so often, when she took a swallow of the wine, Nicole would murmur "Umm" or "This is fantastic," but she basically said nothing until her plate was completely clean.

Katie, who had become a very light eater, nibbled at her food and watched her mother. When Nicole was finished, Katie called in a Garcia to take away the dishes and bring some coffee. Nicole had not had a good cup of coffee for almost two years.

"So, Katie," Nicole said with a warm smile after thanking her for the meal, "how about you? What are you doing with yourself?"

Katie laughed coarsely. "Same old shit," she said. "I'm now director of entertainment for the whole Vegas resort... I book all the acts into the clubs... Business is great even though - " Katie caught herself, remembering that her mother knew nothing of the war in the second habitat.

"Have you found a man who can appreciate all your attributes?" Nicole asked tactfully.

"Not one who will stay around." Katie was self-conscious about her answer and suddenly became agitated. "Look, Mother," she said, leaning across the table. "I didn't come here to discuss my love life... I have a proposition for you - or rather, the family has a proposition for you that we all support."

Nicole looked at her daughter with a puzzled frown.

She noticed for the first time that Katie had aged considerably in the two years since she had last seen her. "I don't understand," Nicole said. "What kind of a proposition?"

"Well, as you may know, the government has been preparing its case against you for some time. They are now ready to go to trial. The charge of course is sedition, which carries a mandatory death penalty. The prosecutor has told us that the evidence against you is overwhelming, and that you are certain to be convicted. However, because of your past services to the colony, if you will plead guilty to the lesser charge of involuntary sedition, he will drop - "

"But I am not guilty of anything," Nicole said firmly.

"I know that, Mother," Katie replied with a trace of impatience. "But we - ElUe, Patrick, and I - all agree that there is a high likelihood that you will be convicted. The prosecutor has promised us that if you will simply plead guilty to the reduced charge, you will be moved immediately to nicer surroundings and allowed to visit with your family, including your new granddaughter... He even hinted that he might intercede with the authorities to allow Benjy to live with Robert and Ellie..."

Nicole was in turmoil. "And all of you think that I should accept this plea bargain and acknowledge my guilt, even though I have steadfastly proclaimed my innocence since the moment I was arrested?"

Katie nodded. "We don't want you to die," she said. "Especially for no reason."

"For no reason." Nicole's eyes suddenly flashed. "You think I would be dying for no reason!" She pushed away from the table, stood up, and paced around the, cell. "I would be dying for justice," Nicole said, more to herself than to Katie, "in my mind at least, even if there is not a single soul anywhere else in the universe who can understand it."

"But Mother," Katie now interjected, "what purpose would it serve? Your children and granddaughter would be deprived forever of your company, Benjy would remain in that foul institution - "

"So now here's the deal," Nicole interrupted, her voice rising, "a more insidious version of Faust's pact with the devil... Abandon your principles, Nicole, and acknowledge your guilt, even though you have not transgressed at all. And do not sell your soul for mere personal Earthly reward. No, that would be too easy to reject... You are asked to take the deal because your family will benefit. Can there be any possible appeal to a mother that is more likely to sway her?"

Nicole's eyes were on fire. Katie reached into her purse, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a trembling hand.

"And who is it that comes to me with such a proposition?" Nicole continued. She was now shouting. "Who brings me delicious food and wine and pictures of my family to soften me up for the self-inflicted knife that will surely kill me with much more pain than any electric chair? Why, it is my own daughter, the beloved issue of my womb."

Nicole suddenly moved forward and grabbed Katie. "Do not play Judas for them, Katie," Nicole said, shaking her frightened daughter. "You are so much better than mat. In time, if they convict and execute me on these specious charges, you will appreciate what I am doing."

Katie freed herself from her mother's grasp and staggered backward. She took a drag from her cigarette. "This is bullshit, Mother," she said a moment later. "Total bullshit. You're just being your usual self-righteous... Look, I came here to help you, to offer you a chance to go on living. Why can't you listen to someone else just one time in your goddamn life?"

Nicole stared at Katie for several seconds. Her voice was softer when she spoke again. "I have been listening to you, Katie, and I do not like what I have heard. I have also been watching you... I don't think for a moment that you came here today to help me. That would be completely inconsistent with what I have seen of your character these last few years. There must be something in all this for you.

"Nor do I believe that you in any way represent Ellie and Patrick. If that were the case, they would have come with you. I must confess that for a while earlier I was confused and feeling that perhaps I was causing too much pain for all my children. But in these last few minutes I have seen what is going on here very clearly... Katie, my dear Katie - "

"Don't you touch me again," Katie snouted as Nicole approached her, Katie's eyes were full of tears. "And spare me your self-righteous pity."

The ceH was momentarily quiet. Katie finished her cigarette and tried to compose herself. "Look," she said at length, "I don't give a shit what you feel about me - that's not important - but why, Mother, why can't you think about Patrick and Ellie and even little Nicole? Is being a saint so important to you that they should suffer because of it?"

"In time," Nicole replied, "they will understand."

"In time," Katie said angrily, "you'll be dead. In a very short time... Do you realize that the moment I walk out of here and tell Nakamura that there's no deal, the date for your trial will be set? And that you have no chance at all, absolutely no f*cking chance?"

"You cannot scare me, Katie."

"I cannot scare you, I cannot touch you, I cannot even appeal to your judgment. Like all good saints, you listen to your own voices."

Katie took a deep breath. "Then I guess this is it... Good-bye, Mother." Despite herself, fresh tears appeared in Katie's eyes.

Nicole wept openly. "Good-bye, Katie," she said. "I love you."