Children of the Old Star (12 page)

"Perhaps I can give him some insight,” pondered Ellis.

"So like your grandfather.” Arepno sat back. “Such arrogance you humans display. Although you might give him some insight, I suspect it will be you who gains insight, if you are not a coward.” Arepno's mustache formed a shape, not unlike a smile. “I will take you to him this afternoon, but first, dine with me and my family, grandson of Firebrandt."

Ellis nodded, recognizing that Arepno had paid him a great compliment in referring to him by the name of a respected friend. “Thank you, I will.” As they stood to join the others, Ellis asked, “So, what's this about you being retired?"

"I have been retired many seasons,” said Arepno.

"What about your ship? What about Sufiro?"

"Whoever said I had acted in a, how do you humans say, official capacity?” Ellis thought he detected a hint of laughter from the translator's speaker.

Later that afternoon, Mark Ellis groaned as Arepno's hover bounced in air turbulence. The hover, unlike human built vehicles, was more an aircraft, traveling high in the Rd'dyggian atmosphere. The dinner so graciously prepared by Arepno's wives, combined with the meal from the space station caused his stomach to do flip-flops. Although the vegetables, meats, and teas were perfectly edible by human standards, Rd'dyggians’ digestive systems were far more efficient than his.

The punch line of an old human joke said, Rd'dyggians don't have a brain in their head. That was literally true. Rd'dyggians had evolved such that their brains were in their upper chest cavity behind a nearly impervious wall of bone. Their stomachs were in their heads, with an organ that did much the same thing as intestines located just below the shoulders. Ellis’ stomach did another turn as he remembered the sight of the first headless Rd'dyggian he had ever seen on Titan. The being was a communicator; no sight or hearing was necessary. He only needed to use his brain to speak to ships coming and leaving. A bag hanging limply from his shoulders had replaced his stomach.

"How much farther is G'Liat's compound,” groaned Ellis.

"Not much,” said Arepno. “Only a few hundred more kilometers."

Ellis put his head back against the hard, high-backed seat of the hover and sighed. He ran his hand over the cool, unyielding leather-like material of the armrest at his side, then looked out at the lush alien landscape. The purple vegetation and red sand made him long for his gray island home. The sparse housing suddenly made him long for the closeness of humans.

Ellis looked back toward Arepno, whose hands rested firmly on a square silver plate embedded in the console. His face showed concentration as he steered the craft—his brain tied directly into the computer. Ellis had spent most of the journey, so far, in silence, afraid to distract Arepno. He pursed his lips though, thinking it might be more than that. Their conversations so far had been stilted, and uncomfortable.

"So,” began Ellis, cautiously, “I didn't know Rd'dyggian women took the names of their spouses."

Arepno inclined his head.

"I'm sorry, am I distracting you?” Ellis’ voice held a nervous twinge.

"No distraction,” came the voice from the translator box. “Not with this simple craft.” Arepno faced Ellis. “I simply do not understand the inference."

"Your wives were named Arepnon and R'landan.” Ellis’ brow creased. “Didn't your wives take the names of you and R'landa?"

"Ah,” said Arepno, looking back out the window. “The problem is a difference of perspective. If I understand, on Earth your wife would be Mrs. John, am I right?"

"Close,” conceded Ellis. “She would be Mrs. Ellis—in my culture, at least. Though most humans don't change names to match their mates anymore. Actually,” he mused, “most humans don't even know their mates anymore. The actual physical act is considered something of a taboo for many."

Arepno imitated a human nod. “Yes, the human capacity to reject love has been well documented since the whale epics of your nineteenth century.” His mustache wiggled, then he continued. “In my culture on Rd'dyggia, husbands assume the names of their first wives. It is a sign of deference that I have taken a shorter version of Arepnon's name."

Ellis wrung his hands, somewhat annoyed at himself that he had made an assumption based on what, even many humans, considered an outmoded system of mating. “I guess I'm just an old-fashioned guy.” Ellis ran his hands through auburn hair. “What was your name before you were married?"

"That is irrelevant,” stated Arepno blandly. Ellis imagined the warrior was irritated, though the translator betrayed no such emotion. “That name has evaporated into the past. It is forgotten.” The Rd'dyggian's face seemed to go blank for several minutes. “We are nearly at G'Liat's. Prepare for descent."

Almost instantly, Arepno put the craft into a dive. Ellis closed his eyes tightly as he felt the bile build in his throat. He gripped the armrest of the seat and willed himself not to vomit in Arepno's craft.

Abruptly, the tiny craft bumped hard against unyielding ground. Once it came to a stop. Ellis leaned into the glass of the craft's bubble top. “We have arrived,” announced Arepno.

"We certainly have,” grumbled Ellis. “Should we call the compound and announce our arrival?” He scanned the almost completely bare console of Arepno's craft, not even knowing if there was communication's equipment, much less how to operate it.

"I already have,” said Arepno, matter-of-factly as ever. “G'Liat is expecting you.” With that, the bubble top of the aircraft opened, causing Ellis to nearly tumble out onto the ground.

Remembering that he did not have any translation equipment, Ellis sat up and looked at Arepno. “Could I impose upon you, and ask a favor?"

"You may ask.” Arepno's unblinking black eye stared forward.

"Could I borrow your translation gear? After all, I am going to meet with a great warrior."

"No imposition,” stated Arepno. “No need. G'Liat speaks the language you call Generic.” Ellis’ eyebrows came together. He was not aware that Rd'dyggian vocal chords were structured in a way that would allow them to speak terro-generic.

After only a moment's hesitation, Ellis climbed out of the cockpit and straightened his coat. “Thank you, for all your help and hospitality,” he said, leaning over the edge of the hover.

"I will have your payment, when the Cluster has ended its killing,” said Arepno. Ellis had to move his hands out of the way quickly before the bubble top came down. He was pushed rudely aside as Arepno activated the anti-graviton generator. Within seconds, the aircraft was gone from sight and Ellis found himself standing alone in a clearing of magenta grass.

Looking around, Ellis’ queasy stomach sunk as he realized he did not know which direction the compound was in. Trees and tall bushes surrounded the clearing. Overhead, dark gray-green clouds were billowing. Ellis brought the collar of his jacket up and studied the surrounding area.

Most of the vegetation seemed too dense to even move through. However, turning around, Ellis saw a pair of trees, close together. Walking toward them, he saw a round structure behind, not unlike Arepno's house. Ellis shimmied between the trees and found himself standing in a larger clearing, facing the structure. As he made his way toward the house, he heard a shuffling behind him. Turning, he found himself face to chest with a being who towered over eight feet tall. Arepno had always seemed massive, but the warrior now seemed willowy compared with the being standing before him. Looking up, Ellis saw himself mirrored in the great black, unblinking eyes of the alien.

"Who are you?” asked the being in a surprisingly affable, but crisp voice. There was no hint of the Rd'dyggian raspy, singsong style of speaking.

"I am John Mark Ellis.” Ellis wrung his hands and blew into them, trying to warm himself. “Are you G'Liat?"

"I am called G'Liat,” said the Rd'dyggian, moving around Ellis, looking down at him. “Though, you are not simply John Mark Ellis."

Ellis looked down at himself, then looked back up, his brow wrinkled. “I don't understand."

"No, you don't,” agreed G'Liat. The being wore a one-piece black suit, tailored to fit his body. On his feet were glossy black boots. Around his neck was a silver choker. The attire looked odd given Rd'dyggians love of wearing loose-fitting clothing. The being motioned for Ellis to follow with a large, six-fingered hand, adorned in brightly colored rings.

They walked to G'Liat's compound. The room was a study in contrasts. As opposed to Arepno's house, the main room was extremely full. Ellis saw evidence of travels to nearly every inhabited planet he knew and some he did not. Unlike old man Coffin's house back on Nantucket this room was not cluttered. Instead, it seemed extremely well organized almost like the storeroom of a museum or library. Titan data cubes were in one section. In another section, he saw books stacked neatly. Oddly, above the books he saw painted on the wall the human symbol for yin yang. Next to that hung a crucifix. What really caught Ellis’ attention though was a nearly white piece of bone with a black etching of a tall ship.

Ellis stepped up and looked at the bone. He touched it lightly. “It's scrimshaw,” he declared. “This has been illegal to purchase even before whales were known to be intelligent."

"Once their intelligence was determined, mere ownership of antique scrimshaw was also considered unethical.” The Rd'dyggian seemed to eye him closely.

Ellis’ eyebrows came together. “Killing whales for their baleen has been unethical for centuries. I didn't know any scrimshaw still existed."

"You surprise me,” said G'Liat evenly. “Hunting whales is not ethical now, yet you feel nostalgia for the days when your ancestors hunted whales."

"How do you know my ancestors hunted whales?” Ellis blinked at the Rd'dyggian teacher several times.

"It was the look in your eye, when you saw the bone. It was the look of the predator.” G'Liat folded his arms. “It is a look that most humans would not get. They would not recognize the bone for what it is."

"Why do you have a piece of scrimshaw?” Ellis asked, suspiciously.

"It reminds me that humans, like many other species in the galaxy, are dangerous to those they do not understand,” explained G'Liat.

Ellis returned his gaze to the whalebone, then looked back to G'Liat. “I do feel a certain nostalgia for this piece of bone.” He shook his head, as though trying to clear a thought. “I know I shouldn't. One of my closest friends on Earth is a whale."

G'Liat nodded. “I have yet to meet a species that wasn't racist to some degree or another.” The warrior paused and looked toward the ceiling. “Perhaps, specist would be a better word, if it existed."

Ellis inclined his head. “I would debate that."

"Indeed! Specism is part of evolution. We can't have competitors as intelligent as us. Most of us, who have grown to high intelligence, have learned to control it. The whales, who do not interact, don't bother to control their racism. Those who are powerful, do not need."

"Powerful? Like the Cluster.” Ellis moved toward the teacher.

"We are getting ahead of ourselves. May I offer you a drink? I have filtered water that should be more palatable than well water."

"Thank you.” Ellis smiled, truly grateful. “I would appreciate that."

"Please forgive the state of the house,” explained G'Liat. “My co-husband died only a year ago. My wives have been gone for some time. I was never the housekeeper of the group.” Ellis watched as G'Liat went into the other room. The teacher's movements were almost feline. His manner was so gentle, his voice so practiced, that he did not seem alien. G'Liat returned and handed Ellis a glass of water.

"Did Arepno tell you I've come trying to find a way to communicate with the Cluster?” Ellis took a sip of the water. He wrinkled his nose, detecting the flat taste of distillation.

"First things first.” G'Liat held his finger up to his nose. “Before you can know the Cluster, you must know yourself."

"Who am I?” Ellis tugged at his beard with his free hand.

"Exactly. Who are you?” G'Liat again motioned for Ellis to follow. The teacher led Ellis into a room where there were two chairs. One was little more than a functional stool. The other was a leather-bound recliner from Earth. G'Liat sat on the stool and held his open hand toward the recliner. Ellis sat, but resisted the temptation to lean back in the comfortable chair. “John Mark Ellis is a label. Who is John Mark Ellis?"

"Right now, I really don't know,” said Ellis, uncomfortably. “Before I left the space service, I would have answered, a ship captain.” He sat the glass down by the side of the chair. “Now, I'm not even an officer."

"Ah.” G'Liat put his hand on his chest. “But ships are part of your self-image. It was evident when you looked at the scrimshaw. Are you sure you are not still a captain?"

"A captain without a ship?” Ellis shook his head.

"Captain of your destiny, perhaps. A warrior, at least,” suggested G'Liat. “To have embarked on this quest, you must still feel responsibility to yourself and to your planet."

"Perhaps,” admitted Ellis. “Perhaps it's just self-interest. I don't want to die at the hands of the Cluster."

"Why would self-interest be bad?” asked G'Liat flatly. “Especially if it's not destructive. But to be that interested in yourself, you must know who you are."

Ellis picked up the glass of water and peered into it for several minutes. “What if I found that the Cluster must be destroyed?"

"You are ahead of the game again,” said G'Liat, calmly. “You assume two options. The Cluster is good and could help us or the Cluster is evil and must be destroyed.” The teacher inclined his head and folded his giant hands. “What if I were sitting here asking, should I kill Ellis, or should I not kill Ellis?"

Ellis shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of G'Liat. His eyes moved to the warrior's muscular, ring-covered hands. He tugged the collar of his shirt. “I'm not evil,” he said at last then swallowed hard. “There's no need for killing."

"Is that true? I don't know who you are? You still have not answered that. Are you good or evil?” G'Liat straightened his back.