She shook her head. “At times, I think you're a mind reader, G'Liat."
"I am,” said G'Liat without changing expression. “That's part of my particular specialty in communication. We've strayed from the point. The abandoned planets are not the most prevalent theory, are they?"
"Prevalence is relative,” sighed Smart. “Still, I suppose what you're getting at is the theory that the nodes are caused by objects outside the galaxy.” She shook her head. “The problem with that is that other galaxies are too far away to affect us very significantly."
"True,” said G'Liat. “Still, there's more outside the galaxy than other galaxies. What about the globular clusters?"
Smart sat back, putting her hands behind her head. “The galactic halo theory. It's as good a bet as the abandoned planets and almost as impossible to prove. Don't tell me you have clusters on the brain, too."
The warrior leaned forward. “Who else has clusters on the mind?"
"Your friend, Ellis.” Smart gritted her teeth, shaking her head. “The man is incorrigible. He's obsessed because that stupid clump of balls killed his father. Why can't he just get over it?"
"Death of a relative is a hard thing for humans to get over, especially when it's a close relative.” G'Liat sat back and studied Smart. “Do you have a personal stake in his well being?"
The warrior caught a fleeting glimpse of some expression flashing across her face before she regained her composure. “Damn right I do,” she said. “I have my career to worry about. He's falling apart and pretty much letting Yermakov run my ship."
"I see,” mused G'Liat.
"Would you mind talking to him? I understand that the two of you are close. He's a Navy man. I had hoped he would bring a little discipline to this ship."
"You were the one who told him to back off,” chided the warrior. “You've indicated you want a tight ship, but when he's tried to enforce discipline, you have told him to stop.” G'Liat's purple mustache wiggled. “It's the contradiction that's driving him into a shell of sorts."
"I didn't want him to stop,” said Smart standing. She put out her hands. “It's just that he was going about it the wrong way. If he kept going, he was going to alienate this crew so badly that they would never follow his orders.” Smart let her arms drop to her sides. “I wanted him to get below decks and get to know the crew, but he's distanced himself so far I'm afraid there's no return."
"I'll talk to him,” said G'Liat, gently. “I think I know what can be done to bring him around."
"I hope so. The last thing I want to do is break the spirit of a good man.” She flopped down in the chair then looked up. “I think you said that you had another question."
"I was wondering if you've heard of any deep space nodes that are as strong as the ones we use to jump between star systems."
"Two or three,” mused Smart. “There's one active now, as a matter of fact. Check the net for the Intergalactic Astronomical Union bulletins. Quincy can give you the detailed references.” She folded her hands on the desk. “Who knows, we might even get you published in the bulletin!"
G'Liat rubbed his chest, in thought. “I'm not sure that my plots show anything remarkable to date."
"Probably not.” Smart sat back. “However, we are going to pass by the granddaddy of deep space nodes in a couple of weeks. It just appeared a few days ago. It's not too far from where one vanished about a month back. Showing a correlation between the two would be publishable in more than the bulletin."
"I'll keep that in mind,” said G'Liat as he stood to leave.
"Please remember to speak with Ellis,” said Smart with a wrinkled brow.
* * * *
John Mark Ellis sat in his office, next to Kirsten Smart's surrounded by a cloud of smoke. He realized that despite the corporate officer's ban on smoking anywhere outside his quarters, she rarely came into his office. Likewise, the ship's rooms were airtight. Only Ellis, and whomever else cared to venture into his domain, had to smell his pipe.
The captain still had an ample supply of the navy flake tobacco Coffin had given him. Amazingly, the tobacco had not been confiscated in Tokyo. The strong, slightly bitter flavor seemed to suit his mood. Somehow, he had expected to find the Cluster within a week of getting back into space. The fact that the ship had not yet encountered the Cluster disturbed him. Watching the news, no ships had encountered the Cluster since the Zahari about a month before. The captain puffed hard on his pipe, feeling like he should be relieved that the Cluster was gone. Instead, he was somehow disappointed, as though an old friend had gone away.
For a while, pouring over scans of the deep-space nodes had kept the captain busy. It seemed the more the captain looked at his scans the more they revealed the obvious. The nodes originated from large objects, but there was no way to know just which objects. Certainly, there seemed no way those objects could be charted.
Ellis barely looked up from his terminal when G'Liat entered the room. He just waved toward the seat in front of his desk and continued smoking and reading. The warrior sat silent, waiting. After a few minutes of furious puffing, the pipe bowl began to gurgle. Ellis removed the pipe from his mouth using the stem and gazed at G'Liat through the haze. “Where did it go? Do you know where it's gone?"
G'Liat's mustache wriggled rhythmically. Ellis thought the movement looked frighteningly predatory. “I have my suspicions. If I'm right, the Cluster will be back. If you'd listen to the songs, you'd know that."
"I would? Where will it come from?” Ellis’ voice was gravely. “Why won't you help me find it?"
"Smart knows about your scans,” said G'Liat. “She wants to know what you suspect. That's why she now has me scanning with more of the ship's resources."
"How the hell did she figure that out?” asked Ellis.
"The very fact that you don't know the answer to that, is why I can't help you. Not yet, at any rate.” The nine-foot tall Rd'dyggian warrior stood and moved next to Ellis. He reached down and awkwardly opened a drawer with his massive six-fingered hand. “Why am I not surprised to find a bottle of whiskey?"
"I don't know,” said Ellis with a blank expression. “It came aboard in my duffel bag. I haven't touched a drop since. I prefer Scotch to Tennessee whiskey."
"How well do you know your own history?” asked G'Liat reaching in to retrieve the bottle. “What do you know of Ulysses S. Grant?"
"He liked whiskey and cigars,” said Ellis, shrugging. “So do I. What's your point?"
G'Liat stared at the bottle and nodded. He removed the cap and handed the bottle to the captain. “Take a drink,” ordered the warrior.
Ellis sat back, stunned. “I need my mind clear if we're going to meet the Cluster. You just said we're likely to."
"You need to relax.” G'Liat inclined his head. “Your mind is not clear at all. It's clouded with obsession. That's why you hear, but don't listen, to the song. Do you know what you're going to do when you see the Cluster? Are you just going to put your mind in there again and see what happens? Why do you think I'm so reluctant to help you rush to the Cluster?"
"So, you do think the nodes are connected to the Cluster.” As the warrior stood silent, Ellis accepted the bottle and took a long drink. Putting the bottle on the desk, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I really haven't thought beyond finding the Cluster."
"Exactly.” The warrior put an edge in his voice. “You're letting this ship go to hell. It would already be there if not for the competence of the crew. If we are to have any hope of contacting the Cluster, you must act like the captain you are. Don't think about what will happen when we meet the Cluster. Just be prepared to act and act deliberately. That is what being a warrior is all about."
"After great pain, a formal feeling comes,” quoted Ellis, slumping back in the chair. “The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs."
"What is your great pain?” asked G'Liat. His Rd'dyggian accent returned, along with genuine curiosity.
Sitting slumped, the captain took anothe
r swig of whisky. “When my father died, all I wanted was revenge against the thing that took his life.” Ellis sighed. “Then I touched it and realized that it was an intelligence too. The Cluster was the same as Richard or you.” The captain's chin dropped to his chest. “But I feel like my quest has caused me to betray my father's memory. I feel like I should be out to destroy this thing."
"Is that what he would have wanted?” G'Liat's accent was stronger than Ellis had ever heard it.
"I don't know. How can I know? He can't tell me.” Ellis took a long swig on the whiskey bottle. He then put it on the desk and retrieved his pipe and tobacco. Unceremoniously, he dumped the burned ash onto the bare metal deck. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
The warrior leaned forward. “To communicate with the Cluster, you must be yourself. To do that, you must relax and lead the people on this ship. If you follow my advice I will have really helped you."
"Lead the crew with half a bottle of whiskey in me?” asked Ellis with a weak grin.
"Get a good night sleep, first,” advised the warrior.
"I'll do that, if you promise to tell me all you know.” Ellis began rubbing out a flake of tobacco.
"I've told all I know.” G'Liat resumed speaking in a human accent.
"Then tell me all you suspect, then.” The captain tamped tobacco into the pipe.
"All I suspect is summarized in two places. First, look up what's known about globular cluster orbits, and then try to understand the theories of cluster gravitational interaction with the stars of our galaxy. The rest is in your dreams and the beyond."
"Are you suggesting that the Cluster came from a globular cluster?” Ellis’ forehead creased. “Or, is that part of my deluded imagination."
"It is possible that you had greater insight than you realized when you gave the alien its name. Access your dreams and imagination. There's power there.” G'Liat's face was expressionless. “Once you've done that, look at the results of human archeology on Titan. If you do that, you can draw your own conclusions.” With that, G'Liat stood and left.
Ellis rubbed his beard and felt the skin of his face twitch as though wanting to see the light of day.
* * * *
With no small effort, Kirsten Smart was able to download what declassified information existed in the Confederation Navy database regarding John Mark Ellis. For the most part, that information consisted of an image and a press release.
The image showed Ellis, as he was when he entered the Gaean Navy; all of his hair shaved off. Kirsten slapped the table. “They've shown this image on the news,” she said to herself. She thought back, and remembered the image being shown in conjunction with the Erdonium crisis on Sufiro's World.
Kirsten grinned to herself, thinking that Ellis didn't look altogether unhandsome. The beard did seem to improve his features, though. Kirsten shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “Why am I thinking like this?” she asked herself.
As she heard her voice echo in the lonely room, she knew the answer. Obsessed as he was about the Cluster, Ellis was hardly a better confidant than any of the rest of the crew. If only Ellis would show some sign of lightening up, she might be compelled to open up to him.
Kirsten let her attention be drawn to the press release. It was from shortly before Ellis had received his promotion to Commander. It told of the first ship destroyed by a new alien species. For lack of a better name, the release credits Lt. John Mark Ellis with naming the alien, the Cluster.
* * * *
On Titan, Manuel Raton and Suki Ellis arrived at their room shortly after local midnight. The two embraced then sat down at a small table near a window that looked out on a darkened, cloud-enshrouded landscape. “Well?” asked Fire.
"I found the airlock from the dome to the surface. There's only one guard. He was pretty bored. He said that there were environment suit lockers and a hover transport outside,” reported Manuel.
Fire nodded and bit her lower lip. She retrieved a sheet of paper from her pocket. “I think this is a map from this dome to the main Titan dome. Their central computer should be housed there."
"You think?” Manuel sat back and twirled his mustache. “That's pretty flimsy Fire-cita."
"You try reading through the records,” said Fire sharply. “It's more like mythology than record-keeping."
"I'm sorry.” Manuel folded his hands and twiddled his thumbs. After a bit he looked back into Fire's eyes. “You know, if we get caught, we could go to jail for a long time."
"Probably,” said Fire. “The question is whether it's the Titans that will find us first, or the humans, after we steal environment suits and a hover.” Fire moved to sit on Raton's lap. She unbuttoned his shirt and took his earlobe in her mouth. “We may not see each other for a very long time after tomorrow."
Raton stroked Fire's silver-black hair, his breath growing heavy. “I know, Fire-cita. Let's make the most of this night."
"We might not get much sleep,” chided Fire, holding Manuel as much for security as out of passion.
"Who the hell cares?” Manuel pressed his mouth to Fire's. The two fell to the floor together.
* * * *
That night, aboard the Sanson, Ellis slept off the effects of the alcohol. He awoke the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. Ordering coffee and a roll from the kitchen, he showered and dressed unhurriedly. With a deliberate force of will, he shaved his beard. Looking at the result in the mirror, he was vaguely disappointed. He remembered his jaw looking stronger than what he saw. “Is this who I am?” he asked himself. Shrugging it off as best he could, he stepped back out to the living quarters and began calling up the data files on globular clusters.
The information he found was not particularly surprising. As an officer graduated from the Academy, he had long known that the globulars made long elliptical orbits around the galaxy. Many times those orbits took the globulars through the plane of the galaxy itself. He rubbed his naked chin in wonder as he read that the clusters took between fifteen and thirty million years to complete their orbits.
Ellis turned his attention to the gravitational interaction of the globulars with the stars of the galaxy when Clyde McClintlock knocked on the door.
"Wow!” exclaimed the evangelist as he looked at Ellis’ newly clean face. “I've never seen you that well shaved."
Ellis smiled and motioned for Clyde to take the seat opposite him. “I imagine I was pretty scruffy when I first showed up on Sufiro."
McClintlock nodded and laid the captain's breakfast out for him. The evangelist sat back to sip his own coffee. “The governor almost had me evict you from the planet,” laughed McClintlock. The former colonel set his coffee down and looked at his feet as he thought of Governor Hill, the friend he betrayed. After a moment, he returned his attention to Ellis. “What are you reading up on?"
Ellis shook his head, while reaching for the sweet roll. “It's some stuff G'Liat recommended. Do you know there are theories that suggest those deep space nodes are caused by clusters?"
"Really!” Clyde McClintlock shifted to the edge of his seat.
"I mean globular clusters,” corrected the captain. “It's suspected that as the globulars pass through or near the plane of the galaxy, the tidal interactions cause the nodes we've been seeing."
"What does that have to do with the Cluster?” McClintlock settled back in the chair.
Ellis read on in silence for a few minutes. “It's possible it holds part of the answer. Did you know that there's a globular in close approach now? It's passing through the plane of the galaxy even as we speak. The last time it was here was thirty million years ago."
Clyde McClintlock shook his head. “Are you trying to tell me that the Cluster is coming from some globular?” He set the coffee down and grabbed his wrist to stop his trembling hand. “Mark, if the Cluster came from that globular, then that means that Ezekiel couldn't have seen it."
"What?” Ellis peered over the display he was reading.
"The prophet Ezekiel
, in the bible. He saw the Cluster only six thousand years ago,” stammered Clyde.
"I'm afraid I'm not much of a Bible scholar,” admitted Ellis, returning his attention to the display.
The evangelist and the captain sat in silence for a time. Ellis ate his sweet roll while reading. At last, the plate and coffee cup were empty. Standing silently, trembling slightly, Clyde McClintlock gathered the dishes and left without further comment.
"Did you know that there's no evidence of any civilization on Titan before thirty million years ago?” Ellis continued to read. When he didn't get a response, he looked up and saw that the evangelist had gone. Like Clyde McClintlock, however, Ellis found himself trembling. He stepped to the window over his bunk and looked out at the stars.
At last he began to understand G'Liat's fears and see them as more than paranoia. There was evidence to suggest that the Titans—the benevolent leaders of the Confederation, virtually the founders of civilization itself—had first appeared the last time the Cluster visited the galaxy. Deep and disturbing questions filled the captain's mind. Taking a deep breath, Ellis wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers.
* * * *
Instead of returning to the kitchen, Clyde McClintlock went back to his quarters. Since he had not been able to return to his home on Earth, he brought few personal effects aboard the Sanson. McClintlock fell listlessly into his bunk. He felt betrayed by the other man who had heard the words of the Cluster. How could Ellis, of all people, believe the Cluster was anything but God?
Clyde McClintlock closed his eyes tight. He tried, momentarily, to feel his way through the trail of logic that led him to believe the Cluster was God. The more he tried, the guiltier he felt of betraying his faith and those back on Earth who were relying on him to bring teachings from the Cluster. He also thought of the fact that it was Ellis who had defeated him on Sufiro. Revenge could be sweet. Deep down, Clyde knew what had to be done to blasphemers. He remembered from the teachings of his youth. If he died trying to kill the infidel, he would be invited into the Cluster realm.
Burying his head in the hard pillow, McClintlock cursed at the fact that he was not aboard a military ship. There he would have weapons. He felt the pillow grow damp as tears flowed. However, his spirits lightened slightly when he realized that he had an entire kitchen to his disposal. With his military background, he could make any weapon he chose. The only question was when to use it.
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