Children of the Old Star (21 page)

About the same time the captain acknowledged the knock, G'Liat stepped into the room. “I understand there have been some teething pains, today."

"You could say that,” said Ellis, stepping from the lavatory and taking a seat at the table. He gestured for G'Liat to do the same. “Do you think I should shave?"

The warrior remained standing. “That seems to me to be a personal decision.” G'Liat stepped over to the bunk and looked out the view port. “Do it or don't. It makes no difference to me."

"Ms. Smart thinks the beard makes me look unprofessional.” The captain's shoulders slumped.

G'Liat moved with feline grace from the window to the chair opposite the captain. “If you think shaving will make you a better warrior, then shave. Some of your kind think it's a necessity. Do it for yourself. Do not do it for her."

Ellis shrugged. “Today, my confidence has been shaken. In the military, I knew how to command a ship.” Ellis stopped. “I should say, I thought I knew how to command a ship. Now I'm not so sure I do."

G'Liat's body grew rigid. “Are you saying that when we find the Cluster, this crew won't follow you?"

Shaking his head, Ellis stood. He moved over to the bunk and flopped down on it. “After commanding the
Firebrandt
I thought I had it all figured out. I won the loyalty of that crew by being strong. I'm not sure how to win the loyalty of this crew."

"Perhaps you are trying too hard,” pondered the warrior. “Did you win the loyalty of
Firebrandt's
crew by being strong, or by being yourself?"

Ellis pondered the question and looked out at the stars. “Have you ever been to Zahar?"

"It's a beautiful world.” G'Liat folded his arms on the table. “The oceans are especially delightful. A mariner such as yourself would be impressed.” The warrior lay his head on his arms.

"How would you know?” laughed Ellis. “Rd'dyggians would be crushed on the surface just the same as humans."

"I've seen it through their eyes. I've been in the minds of some Zahari. While unique in their own way, they are not unlike your friends, the whales."

Ellis folded his arms and looked over at the warrior. “Do you suppose the Cluster will be there?"

"At Zahar?” G'Liat shook his head. “I suspect we have much farther to go to find the Cluster."

Ellis tapped his fingers on the table. “Where do we go?” asked the captain, growing more agitated. “How do we get there?” Ellis let out a sigh. “Do I want to get where we're going? I don't know anymore. You keep hinting that there's more for me to learn. What must I learn?"

"You must learn to be a warrior,” answered G'Liat simply. “To do that, you must learn to communicate."

"To communicate, I must know who I am.” Ellis sighed. “I thought I was the captain, by nature. Also, the military trained me well. They made me a pretty good warrior."

"No,” said G'Liat. “They taught you how to be a soldier, not a warrior. The Cluster lies on the path of knowledge. Only a warrior survives on that path. A soldier is merely cannon fodder."

"Where do we start?” asked Ellis with a shrug.

"When we jump, listen as the beyond sings the song of time. When you begin to understand the lyrics you will be ready to confront the Cluster."

Ellis’ brow creased. “But you failed in your attempt to talk to the Cluster. How would you know when I'm really ready?"

"I'm still learning the melody. I hope you will teach me the words.” With that, G'Liat stood and left the room.

Manuel Raton was worried. Fire had left for work early in the morning. It was now late at night and she hadn't returned home. He stepped out of the Ellis home into the fog. Raton shivered in the chill, wet air. His bones seemed to ache and his breathing felt labored. He almost thought something would jump out of the fog and attack him.

"Manuel, you forgot to lock the door!” called Coffin's scratchy voice from the fog.

Raton jumped and let out a yelp. “Uh ... yeah, thanks,” he said. “I just thought I'd take a walk up to Fire's office and see what's keeping her."

"She's probably afraid of your cooking,” retorted Coffin. “That stuff's so damn hot, no one could eat it.” Coffin closed the door. Manuel heard the bolt slam home.

Raton shook his head. “Can't get any decent chilies on this damned island. Too hot, my ass,” he muttered as he felt his way through the fog. After walking for fifteen minutes, Raton cursed, realizing he had ambled up the wrong street. He found a side street that took him around a corner. Ultimately, he found his way to Vestal Street, home of the Maria Mitchell Association. He held on to the white picket fence that surrounded the observatory. From there, he could just make out the faint glow of Fire's office, just off the Association's library. He ambled across the street and let himself in the building.

Fire looked up at Raton when he entered and smiled.

"You're late for dinner,” said Raton.

"Oh,” gasped Fire. She looked at the clock on her holo-terminal. “I hadn't noticed the time. Sorry.” The office was paneled in wood. Wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with ancient, but real books. Fire's desk was an antique that had been modified so that the holo-terminal was incorporated into the top. Around the desk were assorted storage disks and crystals.

"Find anything good?” Manuel threw himself into a chair across from Fire's desk.

Fire shook her head. “Mostly stuff I already know. The Titans have always claimed that they evolved on Titan. However, it doesn't wash. There are no naturally occurring lower life forms. The architecture has always been the same. The only ruins look exactly like the buildings do now. As best as we can tell, their technology hasn't changed in over three thousand years."

Manuel shrugged. “I thought that the Titans said that they foolishly killed off the lower lifeforms when they were more primitive."

"No fossil record of any lower lifeforms,” countered Fire.

"How do you know? They rarely let scientists outside of their respective domes. There's a lot of Titan that's simply unexplored, except potentially by the Titans themselves."

Fire stood and stretched her arms over her head. She walked around the desk and planted a kiss on Manuel Raton's nose. “The Titans are hiding something. They're lying about their past. If the fossil records were there, they'd show them.” She reached back and touched her control pad. An image of the Cluster came up. She touched the pad again. This time, a picture of the domes came up.

Manuel shook his head. “Silver spheres and silver domes. So what if they look the same?"

"The dimensions are identical,” said Fire flatly.

"Are they made out of the same material?” asked Raton.

"Who knows?” Fire turned off the display. “No one's scanned the Cluster. But, I'll tell you this. The alloy used to construct the oldest Titan domes is not known in this galaxy."

"Ay, carajo!” Manuel leaned forward. “How did anyone find that out?"

"The Rd'dyggians performed some scans almost a thousand years ago. Seems they've always been suspicious of the Titans."

"Just like humans have been,” said Manuel, sitting back in the chair.

"Just like humans,” said Fire, nodding.

"So, what do we do now?” asked Manuel.

"All of this only demonstrates why we're skeptical that Titans are really locals. There's maybe just a hint of evidence that they're tied to the Cluster somehow. None of it answers where the Titans came from.” Suki Ellis shook her head, her lips pursed. “What do we do now? We go home for dinner.” She slid into Manuel's lap.

"Then?” asked Manuel, hopefully.

"To bed,” grinned Fire.

"What about the Titans?” asked Manuel.

"They can get their own sex,” said Fire, playing with Manuel's long mustache. Manuel pursed his lips. Fire shook her head. “The next question I have to answer is whether I can learn to operate Titan data retrieval systems. If so, maybe we can do a little spying."

"Now that's what I want to hear!” said Manuel, his grin growing broadly.

Fire pouted, letting her lower lip protrude. “Spying on Titans sounds more fun than sex with me?"

"Spying on Titans sounds like more fun than kicking around the house with Old Man Coffin, I'll tell you that,” grumbled Raton.

"I'll let you live, this time,” said Fire, tugging on Manuel's mustache.

PREACHING TO THE CONVERTED

The next morning, Ellis stepped onto the command deck. His shirt and trousers were pressed to a crispness beyond what he wore in the military. His beard was neat but intact. More than ever, Ellis felt like a warrior. The crewmembers were in their places ready for the ship's departure. Simon Yermakov, wearing a bright red flannel shirt, rested his head on his hand. The captain had carefully made a point of reading the first mate's report that morning. Kirsten Smart's sensing devices were ready for the trip to Zahar.
Nicholas Sanson
was ready to depart on the captain's command and clearance to leave orbit.

Natalie Papadraxis, in a black skirt and peasant blouse, stared in wonder at the hologram. “Earth Central says traffic in the solar system is clear, we can move toward the jump point at will,” she reported dreamily.

"Course to jump point is plotted,” reported Laura Peters, running a hand nervously through short hair.

"If we know the way,” said Ellis in deliberately cheerful tones, “let's get going.” He worried that he sounded bitter as he sat down in the command seat.

Peters punched one of the holographic buttons on her console. The panel changed configurations. Instead of a bank of buttons, a three-dimensional representation of the ship floated above a set of directional controls fitted perfectly for her finger spacing. Placing her hand on the controls, she gently massaged the panel. On the holographic screen at the front of the deck, the Earth could be seen slipping to the left and below the ship.

Captain Ellis nodded, pleased with her skill. He brought up a holographic image that showed the course projection and displayed the estimated time of arrival at the jump point. The jump point for Zahar was near the orbit of Mars. The captain stood to stretch. He balanced himself on the armrest as the ship listed slightly; it felt the gravitational convergence of another star system with the sun. Even though their target was to map one of the jumpways to Zahar, Ellis knew that Kirsten Smart's instruments were mapping each of the convergence points as they passed. That information would be added to the net for TransGalactic subscribers throughout the galaxy. In fact, his old ship, the
Firebrandt
used to download data from TransGalactic's competitor, the Andropov Corporation, to update ship's charts.

Getting used to the feel of the gentle sway of the ship, the captain casually walked forward, hands clasped behind his back. He nodded at Major Peters as he passed. Her eyes were focused on the holo of the ship, her brow creased. Stepping on past, the captain entered the hologram and looked around. The holo was set to a scale of one to one, so the stars looked distant. In fact, other than their crispness, the patterns looked no different than they would on Earth. Turning to face the command deck, Ellis was impressed to see that the hologram included a representation of the outside of the ship. Taking a moment, to look around, Ellis let himself get caught up in the illusion that he was standing in the middle of space, looking back at the command deck through a window in his ship.

"Mr. Yermakov,” called Ellis. Catching himself, he shook his head. “Simon,” he corrected.

"Yes, Skipper,” responded the first mate lackadaisically.

"Would you kindly reduce the scale? I'd like to see a course projection in the holo tank.” The captain looked to Peters still absorbed in her holo. “If it won't affect your work, Laura."

Peters shook her head, preoccupied. “I don't use the main viewer for in-flight stuff most of the time. I'll let you know if I need it."

Yermakov turned some dials on his antique-looking wooden console hologram. Within a few seconds, Ellis found himself surrounded by nearby stars. A bright red arc jutted out from the sun, toward a yellow-orange star some distance away. The captain noticed that handwritten notes floated near the Zahari star. Those notes were Yermakov's estimates of fuel consumption and estimated times of departure for other systems on their route. Most of those systems were ones that the captain recognized as inhabited. There were others Ellis did not recognize. He assumed those to be uninhabited colony worlds of the Confederation. Looking around at stars to the side and in front of him, he felt like a giant, or even a god of sorts. He contemplated all the empty space between the stars of the galaxy and wondered what was there. Despite all the stars man could reach, most of the galaxy, almost all the empty space between the stars, was completely inaccessible. Star vessels required jump points and there were none that he knew of, in deep space.

"Simon,” said Ellis quietly. As he turned around, he saw the officers through a field of stars. “Would you kindly show me the four dimensional representation?"

"Are you sure, Skipper?” asked Yermakov, genuine concern showing on his features. “It can be pretty disorienting in there when we change the view."

"Go ahead,” said Ellis taking a deep breath. “I'm ready."

Space seemed to congeal around the captain. In a matter of moments, he realized that he really had not been prepared for this portrayal of space. The hologram was only a projection of fourth dimensional reality into three dimensions. Even so, the black vacuum around him seemed to morph into a bright yellow fabric. The location of the sun and that of Zahar turned into rippling contours like those from rocks dropped into a lake. However, it was not a placid lake. More stars were added like raindrops falling, and Ellis felt like he was standing in the middle of a pulsating, alive thing. The course projection appeared and followed a path where the ripples emanating from the sun intersected ripples from the Zahari star with minimal interference from the undulating waves of other systems. The
Nicholas Sanson
would slowly make its way along that path, updating the map as shown.

Ellis began to get ill, just thinking about the journey. Aboard military ships, the jump would be quick and comparatively painless. While disorienting, it would be over in a short time. On the other hand, this trip would take nearly an hour of being buffeted by the currents of spacetime. Leisurely time, thought the captain, to learn whatever song was to be learned in the beyond.