"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.
The captain took a deep breath. “Could you mark the jump nodes for me, Simon?"
"No problem, Skipper,” said Yermakov with a sniffle.
Blue dots appeared across the yellow fabric at the points where the ripples met. Those were the points where one could enter fourth dimensional reality. The thing that caught the captain's attention most, though, was that some of the nodes appeared to occur where there was no intersection. “What are these nodes?” asked Ellis, pointing to one of the points that seemed to stand alone.
"Those?” mused Peters. “All the points there are mapped nodes. Some appear in the middle of nowhere. They seem to be transient."
"What do you mean transient?” asked Ellis as he emerged from the hologram.
"They move around. Sometimes they appear in star systems. Other times, we guess they're in deep space. No one who has tried to see where those go has ever returned.” Peters turned her attention to her work.
"In the Academy, I was told there were no deep space jump points. All nodes were near stars.” The captain's eyebrows came together.
"The military tells you what it wants you to know,” said Natalie Papadraxis, her gaze growing frighteningly clear.
Ellis tugged on his beard, longing for his pipe. “Why wouldn't they tell us about deep space jump points?"
"The military doesn't have that much money,” explained Natalie. “No one wants a bored ship captain to take an expensive ship through an uncharted node and vanish forever."
Ellis frowned. During his days as a ship captain, he had been so busy that it would be hard to imagine being bored enough to do anything so foolhardy. “How long until we reach the jump point for Zahar?"
"About twenty minutes, sir,” reported Peters.
"I'll be in my office. Let me know when we're ready to jump.” With that Ellis returned his hands behind his back and stalked off the command deck.
* * * *
Clyde McClintlock sat in his office trying to concentr
ate on the menu for the night. The rolling motion of the ship made him vaguely nauseous and he fought to keep his mind on his work. Every time he looked at the listings of food, though, he felt his stomach turn again.
"For a Navy guy, you look awfully green around the gills,” came the voice of his assistant, Morganna.
"Hi,” said Clyde, meekly. “Navy ships don't rock like this. In fact, I've been on ocean going ships that made me less seasick. What's going on?"
"It's the ship,” explained Morganna. She stepped in the room and pulled up a stool. “They say it's the way it senses gravity waves. Every jump point to another star in the galaxy makes the ship bounce like that."
"Am I the only one aboard that's affected like this?” Clyde took a deep breath, trying to keep his lunch down.
"Most of the crew gets hit at one time or another. Most get over it quickly.” Morganna leaned forward. “If you think this is bad, wait until we spend an hour in the beyond."
"I've been on my share of jumps through spacetime.” Clyde wanted to sound like the seasoned Navy officer he was, but the queasiness of his stomach dampened his spirits.
"Jumps, maybe,” said Morganna, nodding sagely. “This is more like crawling.” She inclined her head and examined the head cook. “There are things out there,” she whispered. “Some are well known, like jump points where none should be. When you leap out of our natural dimension, you sense things, even when you don't see them.” She paused and laughed nervously. “Have you met Natalie, yet?"
Clyde leaned back, letting his head settle into the rest on his chair. “The communicator?"
"Yeah,” nodded Morganna. “Everyone says that implant she uses to communicate with other ships makes her think she's psychic. It wouldn't surprise me if she really were psychic though. It'd be from all those years of going beyond space."
"Are you afraid of what you might find in the beyond?” asked Clyde.
"Not so much afraid,” mused Morganna. “More in awe. It wouldn't surprise me if that Cluster thing that everyone's afraid of comes from the beyond."
Clyde sat up suddenly. “What do you know about the Cluster?"
"I've felt it out there,” whispered Morganna. “That's all."
Clyde grinned and put his hand on Morganna's shoulder. “You shouldn't be afraid of the Cluster. I've seen it."
"You sound like a man who's talked to it, too,” said Morganna, reverently.
"I have spoken to it.” Clyde McClintlock's blue eyes grew wide. “Besides myself, I only know one other person who has.” Clyde folded his hands. “You felt it, but did you hear its words?"
Morganna shook her head. “I've never seen it, much less talked to it. Still, it seemed to be out there with us, in the beyond.” They sat in silence for a moment. “You know, I'm not sure it's the evil that everyone says it is. It seems more ... curious than anything else."
"Curious?” McClintlock didn't notice his nausea any more. “Curious about what?"
"About everything.” Morganna smiled. “I've felt at times that it's looking for something or someone."
Clyde rubbed his hands together. This information was almost more than he could ever have hoped for. A secret desire formed as he wondered if the Cluster were searching for him or perhaps even Ellis, whose visions had been stronger than his own. “I've wondered that myself at times,” said Clyde. “I've actually even hoped the Cluster was looking for something. The problem is, I'm not positive what it's looking for."
"I'd think you of all people would have an idea,” said Morganna.
"What do you mean by that?” asked Clyde, his eyebrows coming together.
"Well, you founded that religion based on the Cluster and all,” she said. “That black hair dye doesn't fool anyone, you know."
Clyde McClintlock's mouth dropped open. “You've known I'm Clyde McClintlock all along?” The evangelist sat forward. “How many other people know?"
Morganna shrugged. “All the kitchen staff figured it out right away. I don't know anyone else who's said for sure who they think you are. But, I'm sure there are those who suspect."
Dread filled Clyde, as the ship's rocking became more apparent again. He began to think that Morganna had only said what she had because she knew he was Clyde McClintlock, founder of the Cluster religion back on Earth. “So, you've been telling me all this about the Cluster just to make me feel better?"
"Not likely,” laughed Morganna. “I don't like you that much. No, I just wanted to save you from preaching to the converted."
"I see,” said Clyde, looking at the floor. “Then you believe that the Cluster is a force of good."
Morganna shrugged. “I'm not sure I'd go that far. I only know it's not evil.” She winked at him. “I'm almost sure I wouldn't go as far as saying it's God, like you do. Do you really believe that?"
Clyde McClintlock's gaze seemed to move to a distant part of the room. “On the planet Sufiro, I witnessed a miracle. A man I know very well overcame everything—his upbringing, his years in the military, his inhibitions—to become a force for good because of the visions the Cluster showed him. If the Cluster can bring miracles like that, it's hard for me to say what it is, if it's not the hand of God."
"Miracles don't always come from God,” said Morganna. “Sometimes, they just come from people like you and me.” Just as she said that, the jump klaxon sounded.
"All hands, prepare for jump,” came the calm voice of Major Laura Peters over the intercom. “Jump to Zahari star system will commence in five minutes."
Morganna reached into the pocket of her cooking apron and retrieved a packet. “You might want to take this. This will help you deal with the jump."
Clyde accepted the packet from Morganna. “Thanks,” he said as he tore the packet open and dropped two pills in his hand. “What is it?"
"Just a little something that helps prevent space sickness.” She stood to leave for her jump station. As she reached the door, she turned and faced McClintlock. “While we're in the beyond, listen for the Cluster."
* * * *
John Mark Ellis emerged from his office as the jump alert began. About the same time, Kirsten Smart stepped out of her office. “Is the ship set for its jump,” she asked, her attention seemed focused on the captain's auburn beard.
"According to reports, we are shipshape,” reported the captain.
Kirsten Smart leaned close to the captain. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Next time, I'll thank you to do a walk-around inspection of the ship before the jump. Don't just trust the reports."
The captain's shoulder's dropped. “But didn't you tell me to read Yermakov's reports, rather than ask him for status."
"I know what I told you,” she said, exasperated. “But, Simon doesn't have time to tour every section of the ship. I have him doing things for the mission."
Ellis shook his head. “So, before every jump I'm supposed to tour the ship personally?"
Kirsten Smart just patted Ellis on the shoulder and smiled, almost sweetly. With that, she turned and went back into her quarters. Ellis heaved a deep sigh and made his way to the command seat. He turned toward Yermakov. “I presume everything's in order?"
"We're in good shape, Skipper,” said Yermakov as he rubbed his nose on his sleeve.
"Good,” said the captain. The tone of his voice did not match the word.
"We are at the jump point and ready to go, as soon as you give the word, Captain,” reported Major Peters.
"Very good,” said the captain with a little more enthusiasm. He reached over and activated the intercom switch. “Ms. Smart, we're ready to jump on your command."
"My instruments are ready,” came her disembodied voice. “Jump when you like."
Ellis nodded to himself then shut off the intercom. “Sound one more jump warning,” he told Peters, “then jump."
The captain sat back in his chair, listening to the final jump warning being issued throughout the ship. Cartographers would be performing one last check of their instruments. He he
ard engineers and mechanics report as they performed last minute checks of the EQ drives. On a Navy ship, each deck would report its readiness for jump. That chatter was noticeably missing to the captain. Readiness was assumed rather than reported. The captain gritted his teeth, afraid that Kirsten Smart was right. Perhaps he should have inspected of each deck personally.
"Warning has been given, Captain,” reported Peters. “We can jump on command."
Ellis licked his teeth and rubbed sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. Looking over at Yermakov, he saw an expression of relief. Ellis wondered whether the relief was that the jump was coming or that he did not have to give the order to jump. “Jump,” Ellis ordered simply.
Laura Peters’ thin hand seemed to move toward the console in slow motion. She touched a button and reality collapsed.
* * * *
Clyde McClintlock sat in the little office just off the kitchen, listening. His eyes were closed, but still, he seemed to smell with his ears. He felt as though he was falling though space, though if he concentrated as completely as possible, he could feel that the chair was under him.
As a rule, jumping out of normal three-dimensional space was disorienting. Though, this jump was different for McClintlock, he almost felt he could get his bearings.
* * * *
On the command deck, John Mark Ellis fought to keep lunch down. His mind wandered briefly to the food Clyde had brought to him a little while before. He wondered if he had, in fact, tasted the evangelist's cooking. Shaking his head, his mind came back to the fantastic sights and sounds around him. Like other jumps, his senses were confused. It did not seem odd that he could smell the color of Yermakov's red shirt nor hear the scent of new plastic.
For the first time, a jump lasted long enough that Ellis realized this was simply the manifestation of perceiving a new dimension. The ship was feeling its way along the same dimension that time traveled, just as an ocean-going ship might move horizontally or a helicopter, vertically. There were theories that suggested that one could make use of temporal dimensionality to travel to other points in history. In fact, though, it seemed that ships only traveled forward with the currents of time.
Children of the Old Stars Page 17
