Ellis stepped up and looked at the bone. He touched it lightly. “It's scrimshaw,” he declared. “This has been illegal to purchase even before whales were known to be intelligent."
"Once their intelligence was determined, mere ownership of antique scrimshaw was also considered unethical.” The Rd'dyggian seemed to eye him closely.
Ellis’ eyebrows came together. “Killing whales for their baleen has been unethical for centuries. I didn't know any scrimshaw still existed."
"You surprise me,” said G'Liat evenly. “Hunting whales is not ethical now, yet you feel nostalgia for the days when your ancestors hunted whales."
"How do you know my ancestors hunted whales?” Ellis blinked at the Rd'dyggian teacher several times.
"It was the look in your eye, when you saw the bone. It was the look of the predator.” G'Liat folded his arms. “It is a look that most humans would not get. They would not recognize the bone for what it is."
"Why do you have a piece of scrimshaw?” Ellis asked, suspiciously.
"It reminds me that humans, like many other species in the galaxy, are dangerous to those they do not understand,” explained G'Liat.
Ellis returned his gaze to the whalebone, then looked back to G'Liat. “I do feel a certain nostalgia for this piece of bone.” He shook his head, as though trying to clear a thought. “I know I shouldn't. One of my closest friends on Earth is a whale."
G'Liat nodded. “I have yet to meet a species that wasn't racist to some degree or another.” The warrior paused and looked toward the ceiling. “Perhaps, specist would be a better word, if it existed."
Ellis inclined his head. “I would debate that."
"Indeed! Specism is part of evolution. We can't have competitors as intelligent as us. Most of us, who have grown to high intelligence, have learned to control it. The whales, who do not interact, don't bother to control their racism. Those who are powerful, do not need."
"Powerful? Like the Cluster.” Ellis moved toward the teacher.
"We are getting ahead of ourselves. May I offer you a drink? I have filtered water that should be more palatable than well water."
"Thank you.” Ellis smiled, truly grateful. “I would appreciate that."
"Please forgive the state of the house,” explained G'Liat. “My co-husband died only a year ago. My wives have been gone for some time. I was never the housekeeper of the group.” Ellis watched as G'Liat went into the other room. The teacher's movements were almost feline. His manner was so gentle, his voice so practiced, that he did not seem alien. G'Liat returned and handed Ellis a glass of water.
"Did Arepno tell you I've come trying to find a way to communicate with the Cluster?” Ellis took a sip of the water. He wrinkled his nose, detecting the flat taste of distillation.
"First things first.” G'Liat held his finger up to his nose. “Before you can know the Cluster, you must know yourself."
"Who am I?” Ellis tugged at his beard with his free hand.
"Exactly. Who are you?” G'Liat again motioned for Ellis to follow. The teacher led Ellis into a room where there were two chairs. One was little more than a functional stool. The other was a leather-bound recliner from Earth. G'Liat sat on the stool and held his open hand toward the recliner. Ellis sat, but resisted the temptation to lean back in the comfortable chair. “John Mark Ellis is a label. Who is John Mark Ellis?"
"Right now, I really don't know,” said Ellis, uncomfortably. “Before I left the space service, I would have answered, a ship captain.” He sat the glass down by the side of the chair. “Now, I'm not even an officer."
"Ah.” G'Liat put his hand on his chest. “But ships are part of your self-image. It was evident when you looked at the scrimshaw. Are you sure you are not still a captain?"
"A captain without a ship?” Ellis shook his head.
"Captain of your destiny, perhaps. A warrior, at least,” suggested G'Liat. “To have embarked on this quest, you must still feel responsibility to yourself and to your planet."
"Perhaps,” admitted Ellis. “Perhaps it's just self-interest. I don't want to die at the hands of the Cluster."
"Why would self-interest be bad?” asked G'Liat flatly. “Especially if it's not destructive. But to be that interested in yourself, you must know who you are."
Ellis picked up the glass of water and peered into it for several minutes. “What if I found that the Cluster must be destroyed?"
"You are ahead of the game again,” said G'Liat, calmly. “You assume two options. The Cluster is good and could help us or the Cluster is evil and must be destroyed.” The teacher inclined his head and folded his giant hands. “What if I were sitting here asking, should I kill Ellis, or should I not kill Ellis?"
Ellis shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of G'Liat. His eyes moved to the warrior's muscular, ring-covered hands. He tugged the collar of his shirt. “I'm not evil,” he said at last then swallowed hard. “There's no need for killing."
"Is that true? I don't know who you are? You still have not answered that. Are you good or evil?” G'Liat straightened his back.
"I'd like to think I'm good,” said Ellis. He closed his eyes and shook his head trying not to let himself be intimidated. He did not understand the point of the conversation and proceeded cautiously with his answer. “I've done some pretty rotten things in my time, but I don't think that makes me evil."
G'Liat put his hands on his knees. His lipless mouth formed a smile framed by his mustache. “Ever killed a fly or an ant? Ever dissected a frog? Ever dreamed of hunting a whale?"
Ellis began to feel queasy. He remembered pictures he had seen of the great hunts. Whales, like his friend Richard, were speared then lanced. The dead whale was brought to the ship and sliced into pieces. There had been films where seas of blood poured from the animals he called friends. The mental image of the long black carcass being sliced open suddenly seemed uncomfortably close to the image of the long, cylindrical ships being sliced open by the Cluster. “I do not know who the Cluster is."
"Who?” For a moment, Ellis thought he'd caught a glimmer in the warrior's eye. “You make it sound as though the Cluster is an entity unto itself."
"I don't know,” said Ellis. “I have a certain sense, but no knowledge."
"Indeed.” G'Liat folded his hands into a peak under his nose. Ellis shifted restlessly under the warrior's gaze. “You appear tired,” he said after a moment. “I will show you to your sleeping chambers."
G'Liat led him through a number of rooms. All of them were full like the first room Ellis had entered. Finally, after what seemed like a journey around the entire perimeter of the house, they came to a room with a pit dug in the middle. The pit was filled with a soupy, dark substance. At one end of the pit was a smooth depression in the rock.
"I am sorry, but I cannot offer a human-style bed,” said G'Liat with a shrug.
Ellis raised both eyebrows, looked from the pit then back to G'Liat. “You're telling me that's a bed?” Ellis pointed at the ooze-filled pit in the floor.
"The mud is highly viscous,” explained G'Liat. “Its temperature can be adjusted with the control knob to the left. It will envelop you, but you will not sink. Other humans who have visited have found it quite comfortable."
"Thanks, I think,” Ellis muttered under his breath.
"There is a vibrational cleanser to the left as you step out of bed.” G'Liat stood silent waiting to see if Ellis had any questions.
"How do I activate the cleanser?"
"Just step out of the pit onto it, it will activate automatically,” explained G'Liat. “If you need me during the night, I will be asleep or working in the adjacent room.” With that he bid Ellis good night and left the ex-commander alone.
Ellis stared at the pit with some trepidation. He had to admit that he was exhausted and he welcomed the chance to get some sleep. However, the idea of crawling into the ooze did not strongly appeal to him. Finally, he took a deep breath, and took off his boots, woolen pants and cotton shirt.
Standing naked in the chill room, he tested the temperature of the mud with his big toe. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the mud was near body temperature. Reaching down, he turned the knob up a notch, then slipped into the mud.
It turned out that the mud did support him freely. Although the mud enveloped him completely, he felt no sense that he would sink too far. He lay his head in the notched out area of the ground. Except for his head, he felt almost no sensation from the rest of his body, only a delightful warmth. He was asleep in a matter of minutes.
* * * *
That night, Ellis dreamt vividly. In his dream, he saw a reddish haze, which looked like a nebula, of sorts. The nebula parted and he saw silver spheroids. He thought he was seeing the silver orbs of the Cluster, at first. The problem was the reddish haze looked like no nebula Ellis knew. It was then that Ellis realized that he was looking at the spheroids through an atmosphere. It was not just any atmosphere, though. It was the thick haze that enveloped the surface of Titan. He was seeing the pressure domes that covered the surface of the moon from which all known worlds were governed.
Somehow, at that moment, Ellis realized that it did not matter whether or not he commanded a ship in the Confederation Navy. He was a free human with no allegiance to the Titans anymore. More important, he was the captain, for as long as he lived. He had been waiting for the Admiralty on Titan to give him a ship. He knew now, that he must find the ship himself.
COMMANDER, BY NATURE
John Mark Ellis awoke to smells of bacon and coffee intermingling sensually in the air. The scents were better than incense at blocking out the smells of ammonia and sulfur lurking in the atmosphere. The ex-commander smiled, thinking of his mother's cooking back on Nantucket, and more recently on the frontier world, Sufiro. Without opening his eyes, he stretched his arms into the chill morning air and winced as a dollop of warm mud landed beside his nose and oozed its way to his beard leaving a cold wet trail on his cheek.
With a sigh, Ellis opened his eyes and examined the ceiling above. The adobe ceiling was covered with a smooth white plaster, broken only by the presence of the cleansing unit overhead. Ellis imagined he could see faces in the plaster swirls. For a moment, his attention became fixed on one of the faces. The sweeping plaster over the face reminded Ellis of Clyde McClintlock's white hair. Ellis rubbed more mud into his beard wondering why his mind had conjured the image of the defeated colonel after these weeks away from Sufiro. Ellis had never quite been able to figure the man out. He had no respect for the colonel's undistinguished military career. Likewise, Clyde, while a good man, seemed slow to take action. Only the Cluster was a strong enough catalyst to prod him into helping the innocent people he had been sworn to protect all along.
Grimacing slightly, but refusing to let thoughts of McClintlock or the Cluster ruin his mood, Ellis stepped out of the bed, onto the cleansing unit. The unit activated and Ellis felt a tingling sensation as ultrasonic waves vibrated the mud from his body and hair. The waves caressed him luxuriously. For a time, all thoughts of the Cluster left his mind. Instead, he thought of the dancer at the nightclub in Boston and wondered what she could have done for him.
Before his thoughts ran too far, though, Ellis ran his fingers through now-lustrous hair and stepped off the cleanser. His hair was short enough it fell mostly into place on its own. Feeling energized, Ellis looked where he had unceremoniously piled his clothes the night before. He was surprised to see that they had been moved into a neat pile in the corner of the room. Shrugging, he sauntered over and picked up his shirt. Not only had G'Liat fastidiously folded the clothes, he had cleaned them. The shirt was bright white. The woolen trousers were uncharacteristically soft, but pressed to perfection. Looking down, Ellis was impressed by how much the civilian apparel looked like a uniform. Standing straight, Ellis strode out of the room, following the smells of breakfast.
Ellis found the austere G'Liat sitting at a simple, square table. In front of the warrior was a bowl containing a purple gruel, undoubtedly made from vegetables growing around the compound. At the place across from him, though, was a plate with bacon and eggs. Another plate, piled high with muffins, stood in the middle of the table, while a cup of coffee waited nearby. G'Liat gestured for him to take the seat across from him. Ellis smiled and sat. “This looks wonderful,” he said. He sipped the coffee and wrinkled his nose slightly at an unusual, but not unpleasant, flavor.
"If I poisoned you, would I be evil?” G'Liat wore an expression, not unlike a mischievous grin. Ellis dropped the mug to the floor. His eyes grew wide. “The coffee contains chicory,” explained G'Liat, rising. He retrieved the fallen mug, cleaned up the spilled coffee and set a fresh cup in front of Ellis. “I discovered it while in New Orleans on Earth. It was the only way I could drink this otherwise hideous beverage."
Ellis took a sip from the fresh mug and contemplated the mixture of flavors. “It's good,” he said, at last.
"Do you have an answer to my question?” asked G'Liat, his face expressionless.
"I think you're frightening,” grumbled Ellis, thinking about the coffee. “I'm not sure that counts as being evil."
G'Liat dipped a spoon-like utensil into his purple gruel. Slowly, he raised it to his face where the mustache like appendages moved the food into his tiny mouth. At last he turned his attention back to Ellis. “Can you tell me who you are?"
"I am John Mark Ellis; a lone human being on a mission. I am commander of my own destiny.” Ellis took another sip, savoring the chicory coffee, then set the mug on the table.
"Indeed,” said the warrior simply. He raised another spoonful of the gruel to his mouth. “What is your mission, commander?"
"My mission is to seek out the Cluster and talk to it or the people aboard it.” Ellis folded his arms and nodded.
"You alone?” G'Liat inclined his head. “What makes you think you are qualified for this mission? I've heard of human hubris, but this is approaching the ridiculous."
"I have communicated with the Cluster,” said Ellis, feeling new resolve. “I've done it once, I can do it again."
"Only you?” G'Liat leaned forward slightly. “Be careful how you answer."
Ellis searched his feelings for a moment. He picked up the coffee mug, then set it down again. At last he picked it up and took a sip. “I don't know,” he said thoughtfully. “I could probably use help, there might be others who could do this as well.” Ellis took a deep breath, then shook his head. “Let them go on their own quest. I can't wait for them."
G'Liat reached out and picked up the plate of muffins, handing it to Ellis. “Eat heartily, commander, we have a busy day ahead."
Through breakfast, Ellis told the warrior about his father having been killed by the Cluster. He went on, detailing both of his experiences with the enigmatic spheres. “While I miss my father desperately, I'm not sure whether the Cluster can be blamed for his death, especially after the second vision,” he explained, finishing the last muffin.
G'Liat simply looked out the window, as if daydreaming.
* * * *
Later that morning, G'Liat and Ellis were walking outside. A bitter sulfur-smelling fog surrounded them as they walked. Despite the chill, Ellis wore his coat unbuttoned and enjoyed the damp air. G'Liat's form-fitting clothes revealed that his long, lanky body was defined by lithe cat-like muscles. The commander had no doubt that the warrior could move the awkward-looking body with a gymnast's perfection of grace. Indeed, he seemed to glide through the underbrush while Ellis would occasionally stumble on the uneven ground. As they walked, the one-time commander noticed the bell-like chiming of some of the birds and marveled as the light breeze caused the grass to whistle.
"How are you feeling today?” asked the warrior, coming to an abrupt stop.
Ellis had to stop suddenly to keep from running into the warrior's back. “Much better than yesterday. The planet's air seems much more breathable."
"You are becoming acclimated,” commented G'Liat. “Mor
e importantly, though, I sense that your confidence is high. That is good."
"Is it?” mused Ellis. “I don't know if I understand what you consider good."
"The Cluster has twice impinged your honor,” stated G'Liat, simply. “First, when your father was killed. Secondly, when your military career was ended due to contact with the Cluster. That alone would be enough to destroy most humans or Rd'dyggians. If you are serious in your intention to seek out the Cluster, to communicate with it, you must be free and approach it with as open a mind as possible. You must forget about love of your race. You must forget about your honor and your home."
"You have a home,” said Ellis, matter-of-factly.
"It is, as you have seen, merely a place where I keep things. My home is your home, or the home of anyone who stops by, seeking my help.” G'Liat's voice, while gentle, seemed to resonate with conviction.
"Your hospitality has been most gracious.” Ellis smiled, feeling invigorated. “I just wish I had some way to repay you."
"You do,” stated G'Liat. “I want to experience the Cluster as you have experienced it. I want to see what the Cluster has said to you."
"I've already explained as much as I could about the vision the Cluster put in my head,” stammered Ellis.
"I know that,” said G'Liat. “However, if I am to help you further, I must see the vision first hand, as it exists in your brain."
Ellis cocked his head. “What do you mean?"
"As you might, or might not, know we Rd'dyggians have very sophisticated communications technology.” G'Liat put his arms behind his back, as though lecturing. “With the same technology we use to communicate with our ships, we can communicate with each other. We can see each other's thoughts."
Children of the Old Star Page 10
