Heirs of the New Earth
Page 14
A moment later, Manuel appeared at the hallway door. “We just got a call from Edmund Swan. He's in Southern Arizona and he received a message from Mark."
"So did I,” piped in Fire.
G'Liat swung around and looked at her. “You communicated with Ellis? While your mind was with the Cluster?"
She shrugged. “I guess so."
"Edmund's holding on the other end, he's wondering if there's something we can do to help each other,” interjected Manuel.
Fire stood and stepped over to Manuel, she put her hands on his shoulders and looked into his deep brown eyes. “How are you feeling?"
"Just fine,” he said, the vacant smile creeping onto his features. Then, he shook it off. “I guess, a little confused, actually. A part of me keeps telling me not to worry about the Cluster—not to worry about the death it's caused. A part of me keeps saying this is all for good."
Fire nodded. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I keep having the same feeling, but who's good? Ours or the Cluster's?"
"Ours,” Manuel blurted out, then stopped and chewed on his lower lip. He looked into Fire's brown eyes and took several strands of her long, gray-streaked black hair in his fingers. “I don't know. I want to say ours. I feel I ought to say ours ... but I don't know."
The teleholo chimed again.
Manuel looked over his shoulder. “Edmund's waiting."
Fire shook her head. “That's not the reminder signal. That's a second call coming in.” She stepped past Manuel into the hall and went to the teleholo booth. Manuel turned on his heel and followed Fire. “Hi Edmund,” she said, cheerily. “We have a second call coming in. I'm going to split the signal.” She pushed a button and the image of Edmund Swan sitting in a small apartment moved to the side. Next to it, the room opened into the command deck of the Nicholas Sanson.
Simon Yermakov stood in front of the pilot's console with his hands behind his back. “This is Simon, is Ms. Smart available? We have a couple of observations we need to report."
Fire looked up at Manuel who looked as though he was going to say something in protest, but left to retrieve Kirsten. “She'll be right here,” she said, then turned her attention to Edmund Swan. “Ed, Manuel tells me you received a message from Mark..."
Swan nodded, he looked to his right, seeing the split screen on his own teleholo unit and looking a little uncomfortable about speaking in front of the new person he saw.
"Sorry,” apologized Fire. “Simon Yermakov is first officer of Mark's ship, the Sanson.” She couldn't help but notice as a pained expression crossed Simon's features. She looked at Simon. “Edmund Swan is Manuel's deputy from Sufiro."
"Pleased to meet you,” said Edmund. Simon simply nodded in response. Edmund looked back toward Fire. “Mark did get in touch with me through a friend.” He adjusted the holographic pickup on his end, expanding the view. A man sat in a chair, eyes closed. “His name is Timothy Gibbs and I think he's building something for the Cluster."
Just then, Kirsten stepped into the teleholo room and put her hands on the back of Fire's chair. She nodded at Simon.
"John Mark thinks the Cluster is building some kind of a memory core at the center of the galaxy,” said Fire.
"Using the black hole,” affirmed Edmund, nodding. “Timothy had a theory that such a device could be built. He always joked that he wanted to build it, but the problem was getting someone to give him a black hole."
"If someone's manipulating stars near the center of the galaxy, that would explain the readings we're getting,” piped in Simon, stepping a little closer to the pick-up. He looked up at Kirsten. “We've been sensing large scale gravity waves for the last twenty minutes or so."
Fire looked up at Kirsten, eyebrows lifted in an unspoken question. Kirsten put her hands behind her back. “We're so far from the center of the galaxy that it's a little like sensing a Southeast Asian tsunami in California. The gravity shifts are so slight, we won't feel them here on the Earth, but the Sanson is designed to detect shifts in the galaxy's gravitational field."
Fire inclined her head. “That doesn't sound at all good."
Kirsten took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It depends, if they're only moving a few stars, the main thing that it'll do is wreak havoc with jump points around the galaxy—a pain, but something mapping vessels like the Sanson are equipped to handle."
"What if they move more than a few stars?” asked Fire.
"I don't know,” admitted Kirsten, quietly.
Edmund Swan rubbed his chin and looked from Simon to Kirsten and Fire. “Why does the Cluster want a giant memory core anyway?"
"That's a very good question,” said Kirsten. “I suspect the person who knows is sitting there right next to you."
Swan looked back at Timothy Gibbs and nodded. “I think you may be right, but he's not exactly communicative right now."
"I think I know someone who can help,” said Kirsten, her jaw set.
Fire stood and put her hand on Kirsten's shoulder. “You're not thinking about G'Liat."
Kirsten nodded slowly. “If Gibbs’ mind is on one of the orbiting Clusters, then there's a chance that he can put us in touch with him. Otherwise, if Gibbs comes back, G'Liat can still help us get to the bottom of this—help us learn how many stars the Cluster is going to move and exactly why they're doing it."
"Manuel and I will go with him,” said Fire. “We know Edmund and can help out."
Kirsten shook her head. “No, I need to go with him. He'll need someone who can help interpret whatever we learn from Gibbs."
"G'Liat seems quite capable...” began Fire.
"G'Liat knows a lot of things, but he isn't a trained physicist or cartographer.” She looked to Swan. “We need to know how to find you."
"I'll send the address,” said Swan.
Fire tried to find the right words to say. “I know you don't like G'Liat very much..."
"We've worked together before; we can work together now. It's all right.” The corporate officer straightened and looked back at Simon. “Did you have anything else to report?"
Simon sniffed and rubbed his nose on the sleeve of his flannel shirt. “Nothing definitive, but we've formed a hypothesis that Proxom may interfere with the Cluster's symbiosis with human minds."
"That makes sense,” said Kirsten. She looked down at Fire. “That sounds like something that Simon should investigate further with Dr. Cooper."
Fire nodded then looked up at Simon. “I'll have Dr. Eva Cooper give you a call shortly so you can compare notes."
"The Surgeon General?” asked Simon, wide-eyed. “Sounds like you have quite a party at that house."
Kirsten reached across to the teleholo control pad and retrieved a data disk with the coordinates to Timothy Gibbs’ apartment in Southern Arizona. She looked up at Swan. “I suspect we'll see you in a couple of hours."
"Looking forward to it,” he said and switched off his call.
Looking toward Simon, Kirsten smiled. “I'll check in once we get to Arizona."
"Take care, Kirsten,” said Simon. He turned and nodded to Natalie Papadraxis who terminated the call.
Kirsten and Fire stepped from the teleholo room and walked down the hall. Fire found herself looking at the photos that lined the wall. She saw faces of both men and women that looked more or less like her son and her late husband. Some were in military uniform. Others were dressed casually. Almost all of the photos were taken aboard ships. One photo in particular caught and held Fire's attention. It showed her father-in-law standing with Samuel Coffin. Behind them was the ridged back of a sperm whale.
At the door to the living room, Kirsten looked back to see what was keeping Fire. “What's that?” she asked.
Fire grinned. “We're trying to figure out what motivates a creature that is all intelligence but has only a limited capacity to affect the world around it.” She pointed to the whale in the picture. “I have an idea about someone that can help us."
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LEGA
CY
Manuel Raton sat on a deck chair on a small boat as it careened out into the open ocean. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief and blew his nose. The moist air combined with the dose of Proxom that Eva Cooper had given him was making his nose run. The boat was tossed from side to side by ocean swells and Manuel kept thinking that he was going to lose his lunch. The Proxom might be keeping the Cluster out of his head, but between his stomach and his nose, there was little room for other thoughts.
Before he and Fire had left Nantucket, Eva Cooper had spoken to Simon Yermakov aboard the Sanson and compared observations. She agreed that it seemed likely that Proxom suppressed the Cluster's ability to reach into people's brains. She kept a moderate supply of the drug with her and was able to ration out three days’ doses to the people in the house before they left on their separate errands. G'Liat didn't take any of the drug, protesting that Proxom was poisonous to Rd'dyggians.
His stomach and nose calming for a few moments, Manuel looked up and saw Fire at the boat's wheel. She wore a simple formfitting black shirt and pants. Her hair blew backwards in the wind. He wished he could appreciate the sight more. She might be a woman in her fifties, but she was still gorgeous to him. He thought if Fire stopped the boat, perhaps he would feel better and they could go below decks—there was a bed down there that looked quite inviting. Seeing the set of Fire's jaw and the intensity with which she scanned the horizon, he realized that was out of the question. They were on a mission, searching for an old friend of the family: a Sperm whale named Richard.
Richard had told Mark Ellis about G'Liat and suggested that the warrior might help him understand the Cluster. Now, Fire hoped that the whale might provide some insight into the Cluster itself. Manuel had a sudden thought. Standing, he made his way up to the wheel, next to Fire. “How do we know the Cluster isn't affecting the whales the same way as humans?"
Fire looked at him and sighed. “We don't,” she admitted. “However, the Clusters don't seem to have had any effect on G'Liat while we've been here. I'm guessing that the Cluster is only targeting humans. Anyone else is simply off their radar."
Manuel frowned. “I hope you're right.” He looked down at the boat's radar and tracking equipment in front of the wheel. “Speaking of radar, how are we supposed to find this Richard, anyway?"
Fire shrugged. “Like all Sperm whales, he follows a migratory pattern. Mark kept records.” She reached down and activated the holographic display. “We're heading for the approximate area where he'd be."
Manuel studied the display for a moment. “That's about one hundred square miles of ocean! How do we find him in all that?"
Fire smiled and shook her head. “Typical man ... can't be bothered to ask directions,” she said. When Manuel lifted an eyebrow, Fire laughed outright. “There's bound to be other Sperm whales in the area. If we don't find Richard first, we ask them."
The boat hit another swell and Manuel belched loudly. “I'd better sit back down,” he said.
"I was thinking about making some lunch,” said Fire. “Care for any?"
At the question, Manuel turned a deeper shade of green and ran for the boat's rail.
* * * *
Edmund Swan found himself once again alone with the silent form of Timothy Gibbs. He stepped over to the kitchen, ordered up some coffee and thought about taking a walk, but decided against it when he thought about the images of smoldering bodies piled up in back allies. Taking the coffee, he moved to an armchair opposite his friend and sat down, hoping that the Rd'dyggian named G'Liat and the woman named Kirsten Smart would arrive soon.
Just as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips, the door chime sounded. Startled, he sloshed some of the coffee on to his shirt and swore while looking at his wrist chrono. It seemed inconceivable that G'Liat and Smart could have arrived so quickly.
He stood, went to the door, and opened it. Instead of a Rd'dyggian warrior and a stout woman, Swan was surprised to see a tall, thin man with a haunted expression and salt-and-pepper hair. The deputy sheriff swallowed hard when he realized the man was pointing a hepler 225 right at his stomach.
Very slowly, Swan set his cup of coffee on a shelf next to the door and raised his hands. Examining the man with his computer eye, he noted the man's elevated pulse and respiration. “Who are you?” asked Swan warily.
The man looked around Swan at the seated form of Gibbs, then back at Swan. “We intercepted your teleholo call to Nantucket,” said the man. “We think you can help us."
"Who exactly are you?” asked Swan, his eyes narrowing.
The man licked his lips and looked hard at Swan as though trying to decide how far to trust him. Finally he lowered the hepler pistol. “My name's Jerry Lawrence,” he said at last. “I'm with the resistance."
"Against the Cluster?"
Lawrence shook his head. “We shouldn't talk here. We have reason to think that they know what we're saying.” He cast a meaningful look at Gibbs.
Swan looked at his wrist chrono again. “I've got friends coming."
"I know,” said Lawrence as he turned and started down the hall.
Swan stood frozen on the spot for a moment, then pursed his lips and stepped through the door, following Jerry Lawrence.
* * * *
Kirsten and G'Liat flew to Southern Arizona aboard the chartered Rd'dyggian spacecraft. Like G'Liat, the Rd'dyggian pilot called Rizonex seemed unaffected by the Cluster. Kirsten found herself wondering whether that meant Rd'dyggians were immune to the Cluster's influence or whether that meant that the Cluster simply wasn't targeting Rd'dyggians.
The Rd'dyggian craft made the journey from Nantucket to Southern Arizona in less than an hour. In spite of the speed and the sparseness of accommodations aboard the Rd'dyggian craft, she was amazed at how smooth and comfortable the journey was.
They landed at the Southern Arizona spaceport and took a cab to Timothy Gibbs’ apartment complex. Kirsten had never been to Arizona before, but noted how quiet the streets were and how strikingly blue the sky was. She suspected that Arizona had been much more like the rest of the planet before the Cluster's arrival. As she stepped from the cab, she felt as though she had stepped into a blast furnace. Looking back, she noticed that G'Liat seemed similarly uncomfortable. “You look like this heat bothers you almost as much as me,” she said, trying to make conversation.
G'Liat typed a credit code on the cabby's keypad then turned to face Kirsten. “The heat here is bad, but that bothers me less than the lack of humidity."
Kirsten looked at him and noticed that his orange skin was growing dry and flaky. She nodded acknowledgment, then entered the apartment building followed by G'Liat. The ceilings in the modern apartment building were higher than in Ellis’ ancient house, so the warrior was able to walk upright. They found Gibbs’ apartment and rang the chime. They waited for an answer, but none came. Kirsten pushed the door chime again, then folded her arms and began tapping her foot. “Do you suppose he stepped out?” asked Kirsten.
"It seems doubtful,” said G'Liat. He reached into a compartment within the case he was carrying and retrieved a small device. Setting it against the keypad, he thumbed a control stud and waited a moment before looking at the readout. Though awkward given the Rd'dyggian's large fingers, he keyed a sequence into the lock and the door opened.
Kirsten started to step forward, but the Rd'dyggian held out his arm and stepped through the door first. Kirsten followed close on the warrior's heels and looked around the apartment. Seeing the man sitting stock still in the armchair, Kirsten pointed. “Do you suppose that's Timothy Gibbs?"
G'Liat nodded. “Presuming we're in the correct apartment."
"I checked the number,” said Kirsten. “It's got to be the right place."
Once G'Liat looked around the room, he stepped over to a set of shelves next to the door. He picked up the coffee cup and held it to his nose. The purple mustache-like feelers entered the liquid and then quickly withdrew. “The coffee's still hot,” e
xplained the warrior, returning the cup to the shelf. “I would guess that Swan left recently."
Kirsten looked around nervously. “Well, I hope he gets back soon."
G'Liat carried his traveling case to the kitchen table, set it down and opened it. Kirsten saw the brain scan device within.
"Don't you think we should wait for Swan?” she asked.
"We don't know where Swan has gone, or how long he will be.” Seeing the disapproving look on Kirsten's features, G'Liat inclined his head. “Still, it will take time to prepare the device. We should be ready."
Kirsten dropped into the armchair across from Gibbs and frowned as she stared at the man's blank features. “Okay, go ahead and prepare the device, but you'll hold off using it until I give the word."
"I respectfully remind you that I am no longer a member of your crew,” said the warrior tartly.
"So noted,” said Kirsten, icily. “Neither are you a citizen of this planet. I'd like to find out what happened to Swan and talk to him before we start poking around in this man's brain."
"Very well,” said the warrior. He turned back toward the kitchen table. “However, I warn you that the danger builds every second we delay."
"I know,” said Kirsten. “I know."
* * * *
As before, John Mark Ellis rowed toward the portal. Once he arrived, he was once again surrounded by a bright light and felt as though he was traveling at great speed. He concentrated on the illusion of the boat. He didn't want the small craft to vanish, especially if he ended up on the other side far away from the Pequod. When he emerged from the tunnel, he once again found himself near the black hole at the center of the galaxy. He looked around, attempting to get his bearings. His brow creased as he caught sight of a silver craft that looked almost alien to him until he realized that it was shaped like a primitive Earth rocket. He smiled when he realized that the ship looked like something he'd seen in a science fiction vid from the mid-twentieth century.
However, as he watched, the smile fell away. He noticed a yellow beam of some kind emerging from the bow of the ship and shooting toward a distant star. At first he wasn't quite sure what was happening, but then he noticed that little by little the star was moving.