Children of the Old Star

by David Lee Summers

  Weiss nodded and a bright red dot appeared near the Cluster. As the cluster of spheres grew on the ship's holo viewer, Ellis couldn't help but think of his father, who had, like the captain of the Martha's Vineyard, commanded a Mao Corporation freighter. Desperately, he wanted to save this crew. In some small way, he hoped it would quiet some of the guilt he felt over his own father's death.

  At the same time, Ellis thought about the Cluster over the planet Sufiro. The Cluster's presence had brought an end to a fierce war fought between the two major continents. The continents of Tejo and New Granada united to defend themselves against the Cluster. It had projected images of the war to Ellis along with a feeling of almost loving warmth. The commander took a long draw on his cigar, trying to reconcile the image of the Cluster as caring peacemaker with the image of the Cluster as a cold, unfeeling murderer.

  "Mr. Weiss,” said the commander, exhaling smoke. “Tell the Vineyard to back slowly away from the Cluster.” He turned to the pilot. “Mr. Rubin, maneuver ourselves between the Cluster and the freighter. Let's see if we can get the Vineyard safely to a jump point."

  Weiss and Rubin nodded in unison. “Aye, sir."

  "Shall I train ship's guns on the Cluster, sir?” asked Adkins, running her hand through the short hair on the back of her head.

  Ellis thought for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the viewer. “Not just yet,” he said thoughtfully. “But be ready. We'll use them if we must.” Adkins nodded acknowledgment.

  Still transfixed by the image of the Cluster on the holo viewer, a thought came to Ellis. He almost didn't believe it was his own, it seemed so ridiculous. If the Cluster could communicate with him, maybe he could communicate with it. His only clue as to how lay in the fact that at Sufiro, the Cluster seemed to speak to his very emotions.

  The bridge crew sat tense, watching nervously as the Martha's Vineyard and the Barbara Firebrandt performed their excruciatingly slow ballet in space. The freighter gradually became visible on the viewer. A few words appeared in the field, indicating that Rubin had touched thrusters to bring the destroyer in front of the freighter.

  As they crept toward the freighter, Ellis began to reason that he might be able to communicate with the Cluster if he emoted hard enough at it. “Bah,” he said to himself, smoke escaping his lips. “What am I, some kind of damned actor?” Still, he thought, what harm would come in trying it. Ellis took one last draw on the cigar and reached behind him, placing the butt in the incinerator. He sat forward, staring at the hypnotic image. He filled his mind with sensations of warmth, peace and love. He imagined projecting those images at the Cluster.

  A flash of intense green light appeared on the screen followed by blinding white light. “Report,” barked Ellis, standing. Suddenly, Ellis collapsed to the deck, his head hitting the metal grating with a sickening thud.

  * * * *

  Mark Ellis found himself in a room, not unlike one in the house in which he grew up. The room was cluttered with things ancient and antique. On shelves, he saw Egyptian alabaster urns next to a brass sextant. A Roman shield leaned against a nineteenth century wooden icebox in the middle of the floor. Ellis turned, feeling a presence in the room.

  Sitting on a bright red velvet couch, that looked to be French, was a woman with black hair and piercing green eyes. She seemed to be wearing nothing, but for some reason Ellis couldn't get a clear view of her. Straight black hair covered her breasts and antiques obscured the rest. Only the unnaturally bright green eyes stood out clearly.

  The commander turned at the sound of someone entering. “Dad!” he whispered, before he saw the figure. He had to steady himself on a treadle sewing machine as he turned. His father stood, just like Ellis last remembered seeing him, a stocky man, his hair cut short, wearing the trim suit of a Mao Corporation captain.

  The woman stood and slunk, cat-like, to Jerome Ellis. She felt his arms, as though evaluating their strength. With a nod of approval, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. Mark Ellis sucked in air as he watched his father dissolve into ashes before his eyes.

  "No!” he cried. He stood and tried to move toward the woman, but found his feet fixed in place. Instead, the woman turned toward him. Effortlessly, she moved heavy antique furniture out of her way. The commander sobbed, feeling helpless as she approached. However, as she came closer, he felt warmth and tenderness, much like the feeling he had at Sufiro. Ellis calmed down. The woman vanished, but Ellis turned to find her standing right behind him. Lithe arms reached out and embraced the commander. Terrified, he found his hands moving to the small of her back, as though under their own power. Continuing downward, his hands grasped cold buttocks.

  By all appearances, her body should be supple and soft as she pressed against him. Instead, it was hard like marble and just as unyielding. A cold chill moved up the commander's spine. He saw her lips approach his, almost in slow motion. As she pulled his head closer, he sensed raw power and intelligence. Desire to help her washed over him. Fear crept back through the desire, though, and he tried in vain to pull back. She planted a cold, firm kiss on his mouth.

  * * * *

  Commander John Mark Ellis found himself flat on his back, blinking at a familiar gray ceiling. He knew the pattern of lines almost by heart. He realized he was lying in his own sleeping alcove. “Careful,” came a familiar, feminine voice from the side. “You got a minor concussion when you hit the floor."

  The commander moaned slightly as he turned his head. His neck felt as though someone had grabbed his head and jerked it 180 degrees. Sitting next to him was the ship's medic. “I've given you some medication for the pain. You should be functional in a few seconds,” she said, closing what looked like a black toolbox.

  Ellis gritted his teeth. Suddenly, the image of the green beam and the flash poured back into his mind. “How long have I been out?"

  "Only a couple of minutes, sir,” she reported. She ran short fingers through close-cropped black hair. “Do you want me to stand by at the launch, sir?"

  Ellis felt the medication take effect. His body seemed free of the pain binding him to the bed. With a slight push, he sat up on his bunk. He thought about the flash for a moment, and from the medic's comment realized there might be trouble aboard the Martha's Vineyard. “Yes.” The sound of his own voice caused his head to throb. “You better stand by.” As she stood and stepped through the curtain, Ellis saw Rubin waiting anxiously outside. The commander stood, still feeling some pain, and went through the curtain himself.

  "Report, Mr. Rubin,” ordered Ellis, rubbing the back of his head.

  "Sir, the Cluster is gone,” he said grimly. “We almost overtook the Vineyard when the Cluster fired its ray."

  On the bridge, Ellis looked around at the faces staring at him. There was worry mixed with a bit of fear. Weiss looked from Ellis to Rubin. “Confirmed, sir, we have lost all contact with the Vineyard. She's been hulled, but it looks like some interior sections were sealed off. I'm not getting any clear bio readings, but some might have survived."

  "Prepare the launch,” said Ellis, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Can you download their computer records?"

  Weiss shook his head. “They've been damaged beyond repair. It's hard to say whether or not their black box survived."

  "I'll go over with the medic and see,” said Ellis, half turning.

  Rubin grabbed him by the arm. “That was a nasty concussion, sir. I think maybe you should stay here."

  Ellis glared at his first officer. His auburn beard seemed almost to bristle. Rubin quickly removed his hand and Ellis stormed to the launch bay at the stern of the ship.

  Brushing past the launch crew, he entered the ship and sat down in the pilot's seat next to the medic, Geraldine Brown. After only a couple of minutes, he received the all-clear signal from the bridge to launch.

  Wordlessly, Ellis piloted the launch to the black, cylindrical form of the Martha's Vineyard. He scanned the ship and found that one of the airlocks was fortuitously connected to
the sealed sections. He scanned the ship again, trying to keep his mind off the faces of his own crew. To them, what had happened was horrifying. The Cluster had attacked a ship he was charged with protecting and he had fainted. The commander could hardly believe it himself.

  He maneuvered the rear of the launch to connect with the Vineyard's airlock. There was a gentle thud as the ships met and a clang as the launch locked on. Ellis gritted his teeth as he opened the airlock door. Before standing, the commander retrieved a small, clipboard-sized computer that fit into the launch's console. On it, he displayed a schematic of the sections of the ship they could enter. Ellis stood, and went to straighten his uniform coat. Only then did he realize that the medic had removed it. He felt strangely naked, wearing only his tight-fitting gray body suit. Scowling, he led the way out into the damaged freighter.

  The large metal corridor was empty and deathly silent. Ellis and Brown turned into one of the cargo areas. Opening the door, they were confronted by a large murky water tank. Ellis thought he could discern some small motion in the tank. Brown opened her black toolkit and found a bio scanner. She waved a wand in front of the cloudy reservoir. “Here are your bio readings,” she said grimly. “This tank is filled with plankton-like animals. They probably inhabit an asteroid or planet in this system and are being used as food on one of the colonies."

  Ellis nodded, gravely. He examined the small computer and followed the map's directions to another section. He opened the door. Nausea welled up in his throat at the sight that greeted him. The remains of a lone person were next to a sealed emergency door. Blood stood in a grisly pool around the upper half of the body. The lower was nowhere to be seen. Brown came up behind Ellis and gasped. “Oh, my God,” she whispered at last.

  Ellis stepped in gingerly, half-afraid of what else he might see. There were no people, and thankfully no other bodies. Looking around at the appliances mounted to the wall, Ellis realized he was standing in the galley. The man who died was probably the cook. Looking up at the emergency door, Ellis saw the remains of fruits and vegetables splattered across its once shiny surface. When the section ahead had been exposed to vacuum, all loose items had flown toward the opening. The door had come down, but many objects still would have had momentum, slamming them into the door. Brown stepped up and scanned the remains. “This man didn't suffocate,” she said. “There are only minor signs of exposure to vacuum."

  The commander kneeled down, next to Brown. “He was being blown out into space when the automatic door came down...” The commander's voice cracked.

  Brown nodded, agreeing with the assessment.

  Ellis checked his computer. “Everything forward of this is exposed to space. So is everything rear of the cargo bay. I don't think there's anyone here we can help.” The commander looked into the terrified expression frozen by death onto the face of the cook. A tear escaped his own eye and fell, mingling with the pool of blood.

  Ellis swallowed hard and concentrated on his computer pad, checking the sections they were in against known records of this class ship. “The black box is unreachable,” he said after a moment. “Another ship will have to retrieve it.” Ellis stood. “Let's get out of here."

  * * * *

  Saturn, crowned as it was by a lustrous ring, seemed the perfect home for the galaxy's government. Its largest moon, Titan, had for millennia, been dotted by silver hemispheres. Each of the vast domes was home to ambassadors, military personnel, and government officials from every planet in the Confederation of Homeworlds.

  People from Earth, Titan's closest neighbor, often wondered how such an expansive civilization could have eluded their sensors and telescopes as long as it had. The fact of the matter was that the moon's inhabitants, the oldest known race of intelligent beings, simply wanted it that way. They refused to discuss the technology they had used to remain cloaked. At least, most rational humans assumed that technology had been at work. There were, as through the centuries, many humans willing to believe magic had been employed.

  The Titans themselves were large creatures, covered with soft pelts. Their arms and legs seemed too short for their bulbous torsos. Humans saw their ursine heads with large eyes adapted to low light, and were reminded of Teddy Bears. Those humans in love with conspiracy theories often said that the image of the Teddy Bear had been placed in the minds of President Theodore Roosevelt's friends to pave the way for humanity's eventual acceptance of the ancient race.

  The matron of the Titans, a large being with a silver-gray pelt, named Teklar, turned to her lieutenant. “The intelligence continues to probe, to test, to seek. Another Earth ship has been examined. The human, Ellis, is close to understanding. We must be cautious."

  * * * *

  "You fainted?” Admiral Marlou Strauss was looking at the screen in her office on Titan. She shook her head, pursing thin lips. “The Cluster fired on a civilian freighter and you fainted?” She turned to look Ellis in the eye.

  Ellis shrunk back from the strength of her gaze. “I wish I could explain, ma'am."

  "I wish you could as well.” She sat back, folding her hands into a peak. She took a deep breath, evaluating the commander evenly. “Up until this morning, I was prepared to confirm your promotion to captain.” Ellis felt his stomach sink at the words. “While your handling of the Sufiro situation was unorthodox, it got the results we required. Erdonium production has resumed. We will be able to build the ships we need to fight the Cluster. We will need experienced officers to command those ships."

  Ellis took a deep breath. “Ma'am, I might have an explanation."

  "Very well, Mr. Ellis.” The admiral put her hands flat on the desktop.

  "I think the Cluster communicates through emotional response. While in orbit around Sufiro, I sensed something. I sensed that they were aware of what had happened on the planet—that they knew about the conflict. I sensed they saw the pain and suffering, but knew that their interference had helped to end the conflict.” Ellis looked into the admiral's eyes, but did not see any reaction. He swallowed and plunged forward. “You see, the two continents were engaged in war. When the Cluster arrived, the people were so afraid of what it would do, they stopped fighting and helped each other."

  "I've read the report,” stated the admiral, coldly.

  "But, it's not only that I sensed these things. I also sensed a feeling of warmth from the Cluster, a sense that things would be okay on the planet.” Ellis leaned forward hopefully.

  Strauss leaned back and eyed Ellis frostily. “You're beginning to sound like one of those communicators who goes around the bend and thinks they're psychic.” She shook her head. “I don't see how this helps your case."

  "I'm not talking about psychic communication,” said Ellis, almost desperately. “I'm talking about emotional sensitivity."

  "What the Hell's the difference?” asked Strauss, her patience reaching an end.

  "My eyes and ears, perhaps even my sense of touch, tell me you're angry. I don't need any special power to know that my career is in jeopardy."

  "You have that right, Mister,” snapped Strauss.

  "Perhaps the Cluster is like that—only more so. Perhaps emotions are their very basis of communication. Couple that with an elaborate holographic technology—not unlike the Rd'dyggians have—and you have something that looks like visions,” Ellis explained. “If the Cluster can sense emotions, I reasoned that they could tell the difference between random signals, so to speak, and those emotions directed at them. As we were approaching the Martha's Vineyard I attempted to project my emotions at the Cluster."

  Strauss threw her hands into the air. “Now I know you've gone around the bend.” She stood and paced behind the desk for several minutes. Finally she stopped and stared at Ellis with Arctic blue eyes. “You are trying to tell me that you tried unauthorized communication with that thing and it responded by destroying the Vineyard?"

  Ellis looked to the ground. “I suppose I am, ma'am."

  She sat down, leaning across the desk.
“Well, get this straight and get it straight right now. You are damned lucky I don't believe you. If I did, you would be facing a court martial board for endangering civilians. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, ma'am.” Ellis’ voice was no more than a whisper.

  She sat back, folding her arms tightly across her stomach. “Look, Mark,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “As far as many of the Admirals here are concerned, the only reason you succeeded at Sufiro was because the leader of one of the warring continents was your grandfather, Ellison Firebrandt.” She measured her words. “They believe you used nepotism to reach an end, even if it was a favorable end. They are worried that you might not be able to solve a crisis where you didn't have such an edge."

  Ellis wrung his hands. He had wondered exactly the same thing numerous times during the return journey.

  "I stuck my neck out for you, Mister. I convinced them you had done a hell of a job.” Again, she shook her head. “Then you had to go on that rescue mission. All you had to do was get the Vineyard behind you and to safety. For the record, there was nothing you could have done if the Cluster was going to attack. But, fainting when they attack is not acceptable, Mister. What happens when you get into a true battle situation? Will you simply faint away and let your XO take your command?"

  "Ma'am,” said Ellis, trying not to sound choked up. “I still think there's a reasonable chance of communication with the Cluster."

  "Stop pursuing this communication nonsense!” Strauss ground her teeth. “You are in danger of a court-martial!” Her voice became a dangerous whisper. “If you shut up now, I am prepared to reinstate you as first lieutenant on a star cruiser. You have a good record. It's possible I might be able to give you another crack at Commander in a couple of years."