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What she had found when she had examined a full dump of Takagishi’s heart information had been an even bigger surprise. The Japanese professor’s diastolic expansion was decidedly irregular, maybe even pathological. But no warnings had been issued by the probe and no data cha
An hour’s worth of detective work had resulted in the identification of more peculiarities. During the full set of simulations, there had been four separate intervals during which Takagishi’s problem had occurred. The abnormal behavior was sporadic and intermittent. Sometimes the extra long diastole, reminiscent of a valve problem during the filling of the heart with blood, would not appear for as long as thirty-eight hours. However, the fact that it did recur four different times suggested that there was definitely an abnormality of some kind.
What had mystified Nicole was not the raw data itself — it was the failure of the system to trigger the proper alarms in the presence of the wildly irregular observations. As part of her analysis she had traced laboriously through the Takagishi medical history, paying special attention to the cardiology report. She had found no hint of any kind of abnormality, so had convinced herself that she was seeing a sensor error and not a true medical problem.
So if the system was working correctly, she had reasoned, the onset of the long diastole should have immediately sent the heart monitor outside the expected range and triggered an alarm. But it didn “t Neither the first time nor any other time. Is it possible that we have a double failure here? If so, how did the unit continue to pass self-test?
At first Nicole had thought about phoning one of her assistants in the life science office at ISA to discuss the anomaly she had found, but she decided instead, since it was a holiday for ISA, to telephone Dr. Hakamatsu in Japan. That phone call to him had completely bewildered her. He had told her flatly that the phenomenon she had observed must have been in the patient, that no combination of component failures in his probe could have produced such strange results. “But then why were there no entries in the warning file?” she had asked the Japanese electronics designer.
“Because no expected range values were exceeded,” he answered confidently. “For some reason an extremely wide expected range must have been entered for this particular cosmonaut. Have you looked at his medical history?”
Later on in the conversation, when Nicole told Dr. Hakamatsu that the unexplained data had actually come from the probes inside one of his countrymen, namely cosmonaut-scientist Takagishi, the usually restrained engineer had actually shouted into the phone. “Wonderful,” he had said, “then I’ll be able to clear up this mystery in a hurry. I’ll contact Takagishi-san over at Kyoto University and let you know what I find.”
Three hours later Nicole’s video monitor had revealed the somber face of Dr. Shigeru Takagishi. “Madame des Jardins,” he had said very politely, “I understand that you have been talking with my colleague Hakamatsu-san about my biometry output during the simulations. Would you be kind enough to explain to me what you have found?”
Nicole had then presented all the information to her fellow cosmonaut, concealing nothing and expressing her personal belief that the source of the erroneous data had indeed been a probe malfunction.
A long silence followed Nicole’s explanation. At length the worried Japanese scientist had spoken again. “Hakamatsu-san just visited me here at the university and checked out the probe set inside me. He will report that he I found no problems with his electronics.” Takagishi had then paused, seemingly deep in thought. “Madame des Jardins,” he had said a few seconds later, “I would like to ask you a favor. It is a matter of the utmost importance to me. Could you possibly come to see me in Japan in the very near future? I would like to talk with you personally and explain something that may be related to my irregular biometry data.”
There had been an earnestness in Takagishi’s face that Nicole could neither overlook nor misinterpret. He was clearly imploring her to help him. Without asking any more questions, she had agreed to visit him immediately. A few minutes later she had reserved a seat on the overnight supersonic flight from Paris to Osaka.
“It was never bombed during the great war with America!” Takagishi said, waving his arms at the city of Kyoto spread out below them, “and it suffered almost no damage when the hoodlums took over for seven months in 2141.1 admit that I am prejudiced,” he said, smiling, “but to me Kyoto is the most beautiful city in the world.”
“Many of my countrymen feel that way about Paris,” Nicole answered. She pulled her coat rightly around her. The air was cold and damp. It felt as if it might snow at any moment. She was wondering when her associate was going to start talking about their business. She had not flown five thousand miles for a tour of the city, although she did admit that this Kyomizu Temple set among the trees on a hillside overlooking the city was certainly a magnificent spot.
“Let’s have some tea,” Takagishi said. He led her to one of the several outside tearooms flanking the main part of the old Buddhist temple. Now, Nicole said to herself as she stifled a yawn, he’s going to tell me what this is all about. Takagishi had met her at the hotel when she had arrived. He had suggested that she have some lunch and a short nap before he returned. After he had picked her up at three o’clock, they had come directly to this temple.
He poured the thick Japanese tea into the two cups and waited for Nicole to take a sip. The hot liquid warmed her mouth even though she didn’t care for the bitter taste. “Madame,” Takagishi began, “you are doubtless wondering why I have asked you to come all the way to Japan on such short notice. You see,” he spoke slowly but with great intensity, “all my life I have dreamed that perhaps another Rama spacecraft would return while I was still alive. During my studies at the university and during my many years of research I was preparing myself for one single event, the return of the Ramans. On that March morning in 2197 when Alastair Moore called me to say that the latest images from Excalibur indicated that we had another extraterrestrial visitor, I nearly wept with joy. I knew immediately that the ISA would mount a mission to visit the spaceship. I resolved to be part of that mission.”
The Japanese scientist took a drink from his tea and looked to his left, out across the manicured green trees and the slopes above the city. “When I was a boy,” he continued, his careful English barely audible, “I would climb these hills on a clear night and stare into the sky, searching for the home of the special intelligence that had created that incomparable giant machine. Once I came with my father and we huddled together in the cold night air, looking at the stars, while he told me what it had been like in his village during the days of the first Rama encounter twelve years before I was born. I believed on that night” — he turned to look at Nicole and she could again see the passion in his eyes — “and I still believe today, that there was some reason for that visit, some purpose for the appearance of that awesome spaceship. I have studied all the data from that 6rst encounter, hoping to find a clue that would explain why it came. Nothing has been conclusive. I have developed several theories on the subject, but I do not have enough evidence to support any of them.”
Again Takagishi stopped talking to drink some of his tea. Nicole had been both surprised and impressed by the depth of feeling he had exhibited. She sat patiently and said nothing while she waited for him to continue. “I knew that I had a good chance to be selected as a cosmonaut,” he said, “not only because of my publications, including the Atlas, but also because one of my closest associates, Hisanori Akita, was the Japanese representative on the selection board. When the number of scientists remaining in the competition had been reduced to eight and I was one of them, Akita-san suggested to me that it looked as if the two leading contenders were myself and David Brown. You’ll recall that up until that time, no physical examinations of any kind had been conducted.”