Children of the Old Stars

by David Lee Summers

  Sitting up in bed, a low moan escaped his throat. In the last few weeks, Ellis had become a friend. How could he think of killing a friend for an ideal? The idea made him shiver. He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Let Ellis do what he wants,” mumbled McClintlock. “I'll be there to talk to the Cluster with the reverence it deserves. Let the captain beware if he tries to betray us."

  * * * *

  A lone male guard stood watch over the airlock that led to the surface of Titan. Suki Ellis unbuttoned her blouse revealing ample cleavage. She wore tight shorts that accentuated her hips. Manuel Raton had worn tight pants just in case the guard had proven to be female. Fire took a deep breath then strutted out to the guard. She leaned on the door. “Must be lonely here?” she commented.

  The guard turned. “Yes ma'am, it is.” He licked his lips.

  "Not many women on Titan duty?” she asked.

  "Plenty of women,” said the guard. “Just not that many interested in me.” The guard looked down, almost sad. Manuel eased up and hit the guard on the back of the head. The guard crumpled to the floor.

  Fire quickly attached her de-scrambler to the first door of the airlock. Within moments, the door slid aside. “It won't be long before they figure out we're here,” she said. They pulled the guard inside.

  After a brief search, they located the environment suit lockers. They stripped out of their tight-fitting clothes and pulled on the environment suits. Fire applied her descrambler to the outer door. Shortly, Manuel Raton and Suki Ellis found themselves on the surface of Titan. Fire was surprised that no alarms had sounded when she used the descrambler. She figured that no one must have been monitoring the doors remotely; assuming an attack would be rare. Their mistake, she thought and shrugged.

  Fire and Manuel found the hover transport. It required no password to start. Apparently it was ready to go quickly in case of a crisis. The two set off across the ruddy surface of the moon, following Fire's map. She looked up in time to catch a brief break in the clouds. Fire caught her breath as she saw Saturn shining down from above.

  * * * *

  Captain John Mark Ellis took several deep breaths as he rode the elevator to the Sanson's command deck. He was determined to regain his hold on both his life and his command. Putting his hands behind his back, he whistled the Battle Hymn of the Republic to help strengthen his resolve and to remind himself that he was, indeed, the captain. His heart skipped a beat when he felt the elevator stop.

  The captain strode onto the deck as the doors opened. The crewmembers were all at their stations. Natalie Papadraxis stared at holographic flowers growing from her brightly colored console. Laura Peters was alert and working at her simply functional touch-pad. Simon Yermakov blew his nose into a handkerchief, then adjusted one of the brass control knobs on his holo-interface.

  "Simon,” called Ellis with confidence, rather than strength. “I was just down at the engineering deck. The crew there seems to be getting a little lax."

  "What do you want me to do about it, Skipper?” asked Yermakov. As he turned to face Ellis, his jaw dropped open. He shut it quickly. “What happened to your beard?"

  Ellis strode forward. Laura Peters nodded her approval at the captain's new look. Natalie Papadraxis seemed somewhat disappointed. “As to the latter question,” stated Ellis, “it's none of your business. As to the former, your last report showed some instability in EQ engine number four. I want you to confirm that it's fixed properly. I don't want it failing while we're in jump.” The captain stepped close to the mate, putting his hand on Yermakov's shoulder. “Tell Mr. Mahuk and the techs that they're doing a good job while you're down there.” He patted Yermakov's shoulder and nodded.

  Yermakov smiled sheepishly. He started to say something but decided against it. Instead, he stepped to the elevator and went below.

  "Natalie, how well do your communications skills work during jump?” Ellis sat down, but kept his back straight.

  "I sense a lot of things during jump,” she said. “I often sense other telepaths and other ships that are with us in the beyond. Usually they're only there for a short time.” She looked down at the floor and toyed with the end of her braid.

  Ellis nodded. “Have you ever sensed Cluster ships out there?"

  She thought about it. “Sometimes I feel a vast coldness. I've never been near a Cluster ship in normal space. Is that what it feels like?"

  Ellis wasn't sure how to answer that question. He supposed the Cluster could be perceived as cold. However, he had always sensed warmth from it. Instead of answering, he asked another question. “Have you felt that coldness recently?"

  "Not during this voyage,” she said airily.

  "Let me know if you do, please,” he said. Ellis stood and patted Laura Peters on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work,” he said as he left the command deck.

  * * * *

  Fire and Manuel pulled up to the Titan dome. There was no airlock; not even a locked door. They simply pushed a button next to a bear-sized door and the door slid aside. The two looked at each other and nodded. They walked through the corridors, seeing few of the Teddy Bear-like creatures. When they did see a Titan, they ducked into a side corridor and waited for it to pass. It was believed that most of the Titans lived in caves, well away from the domes.

  After a looking in a few rooms, they finally located the central computer room. The room was empty. There were no consoles or controls. There was only a simple star pattern on the floor. Fire and Manuel stepped inside and closed the door. They performed the dance they hoped would call the records of Cluster attacks on Titan ships.

  A set of words written in the Titan language began to scroll through the middle of the room. Fire and Manuel held hands and turned in a circle, performing the translation algorithm to Terro-generic. Manuel whistled when he read the reports. Every Titan ship that had spotted the Cluster had avoided contact. False reports of destruction were filed.

  "You were right,” whispered Manuel. “They did lie."

  "Let's find out what they know about the Cluster,” said Fire. They danced another dance, awkward in their environment suits. They simply saw a report on globular clusters. “I think we need a little more shoulder shimmy,” said Fire. Manuel giggled self-consciously, but stopped when he saw Fire's earnest look. They tried the dance again.

  This time they were greeted with an animated presentation. They were looking at the heart of a globular cluster. Gasses, dust and plasma coalesced. From the center emerged first one, then a second Cluster. A third appeared from the primordial soup.

  "It says here,” said Fire, “that the Cluster is presumed to be an ancient lifeform. It formed from the extreme heat and pressure of the center of the globular cluster."

  "When did it form?” asked Manuel, his eyebrows knitted.

  Fire nodded. “According to this, it's believed that it might be the most ancient lifeform of all. It started as something like an amoeba—very primitive life. However, it has lived so long that it has acquired knowledge and self-awareness."

  "How could that be?” Manuel folded his arms.

  Fire's shrug was barely perceptible in the environment suit. “Plasma can fire off electrical impulses, not unlike an organic brain. If it lived long enough, if it was ordered properly in a matrix of sorts, I suppose plasma could become intelligent like a brain."

  "Where do the Titans fit in?” Manuel started watching the door nervously.

  Fire's arms swayed back and forth over her head. A new hologram formed showing a Titan next to a Cluster. Words began to scroll through the air. Once again, Fire and Manuel performed the translation algorithm and then read together. Fire's mouth dropped open. “The Titans and the Cluster are symbionts!” she exclaimed.

  They turned at the whoosh of a door opening. A Titan filled the immense doorway, barring teeth and brandishing claws. “That is quite enough,” growled the Titan. “I believe Teklar would like to have a word with you."

  COMING TO TERMS

  As Capt
ain Ellis stepped into his office, the Sanson lurched. The captain swayed gently into the lurch and moved toward his desk and sat down. For the first time in the past several weeks he actually felt in control of his ship. Putting his palms on the desk, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt in-tune with all that was around him. While in the Navy he always sensed the watchful eye of the admiralty. Even though Kirsten Smart had an office next door, she was most interested in getting her work done. If anything, the captain was bothered by a sense that he had not done his job to the best of his ability. But that worry was easy to brush aside.

  Silently, he cursed G'Liat for not bringing the information about globular clusters to his attention sooner. While the captain knew he could only blame his depression on himself, he felt the warrior could have saved him a lot of grief. Ellis sighed, wondering what G'Liat's reasons were.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” called Ellis.

  Kirsten Smart blew into the office. She opened her mouth and began to speak but cut herself short. She looked closely at the captain's face, then shook her head. “What a shame,” she said. Laughing lightly, she fell heavily into the chair across from Ellis.

  Ellis’ forehead creased. “What's a shame?"

  "You actually cut your beard off.” Smart snorted. “What have you been smoking in here, anyway? I thought most pipe smokers liked that cherry stuff. This room smells like a dirty ashtray."

  "I thought you wanted the beard gone,” said Ellis, shrugging. “As to the smoking, I can always switch back to cigars."

  Another knock sounded at the door. Ellis acknowledged. Simon Yermakov entered the room. “I talked to the boys in engineering, Skipper. I think you'll find things in better shape down there.” The first mate started to turn and slouch out of the room.

  "Simon,” called Ellis. Yermakov half turned. “Thanks.” Then he added, “Will you be on deck for a little while?"

  "Nowhere to go,” said Yermakov with a sniff.

  "When Ms. Smart leaves, I'd like to have a word with you.” Ellis’ tone was conversational. Yermakov nodded and left the room.

  Kirsten Smart was watching the captain with her head inclined, a bemused expression forming on her face. “Something's come over you,” she said. “You seem much more like what I thought I'd get when Meiji told me she'd hired a Navy man to command the ship."

  Ellis took a deep breath and sat back. “I just had to learn how to relax."

  "It suits you.” Smart smiled warmly.

  The captain nodded. “What can I do for you, Ms. Smart?"

  "I just wanted to talk to you about McIntosh,” she said. “Or, should I say, McClintlock?” Her tone darkened.

  Ellis fought to keep surprise out of his expression. “McClintlock? What do you mean?"

  "Don't play dumb,” chided Smart. “Actually, I don't really care that our cook is Clyde McClintlock in disguise. While he can't cook worth a damn, he keeps the kitchen well organized. Nor do I care what his motives are, though he seems as fascinated by that damned Cluster as you and G'Liat. No problem, as long as none of you interferes with my job."

  "You can rest assured that even though an encounter with the Cluster resulted in my resignation from the Navy, it will not interfere with this command."

  "Your interest goes deeper than career.” Smart bit her lower lip. “It's tied to family."

  "How do you know?” Ellis’ eyebrows came together. “I've never told you about it. We've hardly spoken, except professionally."

  "Like your beard, that's also a bit of a shame.” Smart leaned forward. “Sometimes alien warriors aren't the best people to come to when you're troubled."

  "Be that as it may,” said Ellis, folding his arms. “It doesn't answer my question."

  "It's a small ship.” Smart shrugged.

  "G'Liat told you.” The captain let a smug grin form.

  Smart shrugged again and pursed her lips, playfully defiant.

  "Anyway, I would hope we're actually helping with your job, not interfering.” Ellis folded his hands.

  "No matter what it is that you, G'Liat, and McClintlock are doing on my ship, the three of you are doing an admirable job,” said Smart, nodding. “Even as tense as you've been, you've kept this mission going on schedule. That's what I need. Since it looks like you've settled in a little more, I suspect that you'll do an even better job.” Smart sighed. “The problem with McClintlock is that he's always late with my breakfast. He says it's because he takes yours to you first. This morning, he didn't show up at all."

  Ellis shook his head. “If anything, he left my quarters earlier than normal this morning."

  "I really don't have a problem if he goes to your cabin before he brings my breakfast. I'm a late riser, but could you ask him to make his rounds promptly in the morning?"

  "I'll try my best,” said Ellis.

  Smart smiled charmingly and stood. “Just one more thing. I understand that you cleaned McClintlock's clock on Sufiro. Why are you two such buddies now?"

  Ellis shrugged and put on an innocent expression. “We were honorable enemies. I suppose we respect each other."

  Kirsten Smart nodded skeptically. As she walked out the door, the captain noticed that her wide hips seemed to sway a little more than usual. Ellis shook his head, putting it off to not being observant enough during the last few weeks.

  Shortly after Smart left, Simon Yermakov stepped back into the room. “You wanted to see me, Skipper?"

  Ellis motioned for the mate to take a chair across from him. “Have a seat, Simon.” When Yermakov was seated, Ellis opened the drawer of his desk and retrieved the whiskey bottle and two glasses. “Care for a drink?"

  "I better not,” said Yermakov with a sniffle.

  "I've read that alcohol interferes with Proxom,” said Ellis, pouring himself a drink.

  "You know about the Proxom?” asked Yermakov, a little defiantly.

  Ellis took a sip of whiskey. “I've been a little bothered by it, I have to admit. Why do you need it?"

  "Why do you need to smoke a pipe?” Yermakov sat forward. “Doesn't the nicotine stimulate the brain much the same as Proxom? Could you command this ship if you didn't have that boost?"

  The captain set the whisky down, positioning it carefully. “I don't know. The reason I asked you here is not to chastise you for taking Proxom. My reason is to encourage you to relax. You're awfully nervous and awfully defensive."

  "Shouldn't I be defensive?” exclaimed the mate. “I've been on mapping ships for fifteen years. I know them inside and out. This command should have been mine. Instead, it was given to some Navy guy with a vendetta."

  "What vendetta?” Ellis folded his hands.

  "What happens if this ship encounters the Cluster? That's what worries me.” Yermakov folded his arms across his chest. “Will the same thing happen to us that happened to the Martha's Vineyard?"

  Ellis took a slow sip of whiskey. “I begin to understand.” He set the glass down on the desk. Ellis did not want to justify his actions to Yermakov. He moved the glass around on the desktop and thought. Slowly, he realized he did not have to explain his actions. “What happened to the Vineyard was fate. Who knows why the Cluster attacks any ship?"

  "I have a feeling you know better than anyone,” grumbled the mate.

  "Maybe I do. Still, my job is to captain this ship. You have my word that I will do nothing to endanger our mission.” He felt a knot form in his stomach.

  "What's your word worth?” asked Yermakov.

  "I don't know,” admitted Ellis. “Your job is to make sure I do my job."

  Yermakov took a deep breath. Ellis saw a range of expression play across the mate's features. “It could be difficult,” said the mate. “You're a strong-willed man."

  "If you want to captain this ship some day,” said Ellis with a deep frown, “you'd better be able to stand up to the likes of me."

  Yermakov nodded. “I think I'm glad we had this conversation, Skipper,” he said, slowly. “Anything els
e?"

  Ellis pulled his drink close and looked into the golden liquid. “I hope not,” he said.

  * * * *

  When Clyde McClintlock finally arrived at the kitchen that afternoon, he appeared distracted. Morganna and the rest of the cooks had taken care of lunch and started dinner preparations without him. She watched and worried as McClintlock stared at the knives, as though evaluating them carefully. Although she had worked for some odd characters before, the evangelist was the worst.

  "Can I help you find something?” she asked, stepping up behind him. McClintlock jumped, startled. “I'm sorry,” apologized Morganna. “I didn't mean to scare you."

  "I'm just a little preoccupied,” said McClintlock with a nervous smile.

  "Sometimes going through the beyond can do that to you after a while. It's a lot different on a mapping vessel than any other kind of ship I've ever been on,” said Morganna.

  "You've already told me all that. Have you finished the dinner preparations?” asked McClintlock hurriedly.

  "I think the crew will like what we've got in store,” she said. Morganna looked at McClintlock's eyes; they were glazed over. “Are you feeling okay?"

  "You said that you don't believe the Cluster is God. If not, then what is it? Besides God, who else holds that kind of power?” McClintlock walked to his desk in a stupor. Morganna helped him into his chair. “I keep hearing people say that the Cluster is not God. First you, now the captain.” McClintlock fixed Morganna with a gaze of steel.

  The lead cook shifted uncomfortably under the evangelist's stare. “Maybe it is,” she said nervously.

  McClintlock smiled, making Morganna even more nervous. “We have work to do,” he said congenially. “What can I do to help?"

  Morganna almost suggested that the evangelist chop tomatoes. However, she decided that she really did not want to see him wielding a knife. “You can mix up the dough for the pie crusts,” she suggested instead.