Children of the Old Star (26 page)

Silently, he cursed G'Liat for not bringing the information about globular clusters to his attention sooner. While the captain knew he could only blame his depression on himself, he felt the warrior could have saved him a lot of grief. Ellis sighed, wondering what G'Liat's reasons were.

A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” called Ellis.

Kirsten Smart blew into the office. She opened her mouth and began to speak but cut herself short. She looked closely at the captain's face, then shook her head. “What a shame,” she said. Laughing lightly, she fell heavily into the chair across from Ellis.

Ellis’ forehead creased. “What's a shame?"

"You actually cut your beard off.” Smart snorted. “What have you been smoking in here, anyway? I thought most pipe smokers liked that cherry stuff. This room smells like a dirty ashtray."

"I thought you wanted the beard gone,” said Ellis, shrugging. “As to the smoking, I can always switch back to cigars."

Another knock sounded at the door. Ellis acknowledged. Simon Yermakov entered the room. “I talked to the boys in engineering, Skipper. I think you'll find things in better shape down there.” The first mate started to turn and slouch out of the room.

"Simon,” called Ellis. Yermakov half turned. “Thanks.” Then he added, “Will you be on deck for a little while?"

"Nowhere to go,” said Yermakov with a sniff.

"When Ms. Smart leaves, I'd like to have a word with you.” Ellis’ tone was conversational. Yermakov nodded and left the room.

Kirsten Smart was watching the captain with her head inclined, a bemused expression forming on her face. “Something's come over you,” she said. “You seem much more like what I thought I'd get when Meiji told me she'd hired a Navy man to command the ship."

Ellis took a deep breath and sat back. “I just had to learn how to relax."

"It suits you.” Smart smiled warmly.

The captain nodded. “What can I do for you, Ms. Smart?"

"I just wanted to talk to you about McIntosh,” she said. “Or, should I say, McClintlock?” Her tone darkened.

Ellis fought to keep surprise out of his expression. “McClintlock? What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb,” chided Smart. “Actually, I don't really care that our cook is Clyde McClintlock in disguise. While he can't cook worth a damn, he keeps the kitchen well organized. Nor do I care what his motives are, though he seems as fascinated by that damned Cluster as you and G'Liat. No problem, as long as none of you interferes with my job."

"You can rest assured that even though an encounter with the Cluster resulted in my resignation from the Navy, it will not interfere with this command."

"Your interest goes deeper than career.” Smart bit her lower lip. “It's tied to family."

"How do you know?” Ellis’ eyebrows came together. “I've never told you about it. We've hardly spoken, except professionally."

"Like your beard, that's also a bit of a shame.” Smart leaned forward. “Sometimes alien warriors aren't the best people to come to when you're troubled."

"Be that as it may,” said Ellis, folding his arms. “It doesn't answer my question."

"It's a small ship.” Smart shrugged.

"G'Liat told you.” The captain let a smug grin form.

Smart shrugged again and pursed her lips, playfully defiant.

"Anyway, I would hope we're actually helping with your job, not interfering.” Ellis folded his hands.

"No matter what it is that you, G'Liat, and McClintlock are doing on my ship, the three of you are doing an admirable job,” said Smart, nodding. “Even as tense as you've been, you've kept this mission going on schedule. That's what I need. Since it looks like you've settled in a little more, I suspect that you'll do an even better job.” Smart sighed. “The problem with McClintlock is that he's always late with my breakfast. He says it's because he takes yours to you first. This morning, he didn't show up at all."

Ellis shook his head. “If anything, he left my quarters earlier than normal this morning."

"I really don't have a problem if he goes to your cabin before he brings my breakfast. I'm a late riser, but could you ask him to make his rounds promptly in the morning?"

"I'll try my best,” said Ellis.

Smart smiled charmingly and stood. “Just one more thing. I understand that you cleaned McClintlock's clock on Sufiro. Why are you two such buddies now?"

Ellis shrugged and put on an innocent expression. “We were honorable enemies. I suppose we respect each other."

Kirsten Smart nodded skeptically. As she walked out the door, the captain noticed that her wide hips seemed to sway a little more than usual. Ellis shook his head, putting it off to not being observant enough during the last few weeks.

Shortly after Smart left, Simon Yermakov stepped back into the room. “You wanted to see me, Skipper?"

Ellis motioned for the mate to take a chair across from him. “Have a seat, Simon.” When Yermakov was seated, Ellis opened the drawer of his desk and retrieved the whiskey bottle and two glasses. “Care for a drink?"

"I better not,” said Yermakov with a sniffle.

"I've read that alcohol interferes with Proxom,” said Ellis, pouring himself a drink.

"You know about the Proxom?” asked Yermakov, a little defiantly.

Ellis took a sip of whiskey. “I've been a little bothered by it, I have to admit. Why do you need it?"

"Why do you need to smoke a pipe?” Yermakov sat forward. “Doesn't the nicotine stimulate the brain much the same as Proxom? Could you command this ship if you didn't have that boost?"

The captain set the whisky down, positioning it carefully. “I don't know. The reason I asked you here is not to chastise you for taking Proxom. My reason is to encourage you to relax. You're awfully nervous and awfully defensive."

"Shouldn't I be defensive?” exclaimed the mate. “I've been on mapping ships for fifteen years. I know them inside and out. This command should have been mine. Instead, it was given to some Navy guy with a vendetta."

"What vendetta?” Ellis folded his hands.

"What happens if this ship encounters the Cluster? That's what worries me.” Yermakov folded his arms across his chest. “Will the same thing happen to us that happened to the
Martha's Vineyard
?"

Ellis took a slow sip of whiskey. “I begin to understand.” He set the glass down on the desk. Ellis did not want to justify his actions to Yermakov. He moved the glass around on the desktop and thought. Slowly, he realized he did not have to explain his actions. “What happened to the
Vineyard
was fate. Who knows why the Cluster attacks any ship?"

"I have a feeling you know better than anyone,” grumbled the mate.

"Maybe I do. Still, my job is to captain this ship. You have my word that I will do nothing to endanger our mission.” He felt a knot form in his stomach.

"What's your word worth?” asked Yermakov.

"I don't know,” admitted Ellis. “Your job is to make sure I do my job."

Yermakov took a deep breath. Ellis saw a range of expression play across the mate's features. “It could be difficult,” said the mate. “You're a strong-willed man."

"If you want to captain this ship some day,” said Ellis with a deep frown, “you'd better be able to stand up to the likes of me."

Yermakov nodded. “I think I'm glad we had this conversation, Skipper,” he said, slowly. “Anything else?"

Ellis pulled his drink close and looked into the golden liquid. “I hope not,” he said.

When Clyde McClintlock finally arrived at the kitchen that afternoon, he appeared distracted. Morganna and the rest of the cooks had taken care of lunch and started dinner preparations without him. She watched and worried as McClintlock stared at the knives, as though evaluating them carefully. Although she had worked for some odd characters before, the evangelist was the worst.

"Can I help you find something?” she asked, stepping up behind him. McClintlock jumped, startled. “I'm sorry,” apologized Morganna. “I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm just a little preoccupied,” said McClintlock with a nervous smile.

"Sometimes going through the beyond can do that to you after a while. It's a lot different on a mapping vessel than any other kind of ship I've ever been on,” said Morganna.

"You've already told me all that. Have you finished the dinner preparations?” asked McClintlock hurriedly.

"I think the crew will like what we've got in store,” she said. Morganna looked at McClintlock's eyes; they were glazed over. “Are you feeling okay?"

"You said that you don't believe the Cluster is God. If not, then what is it? Besides God, who else holds that kind of power?” McClintlock walked to his desk in a stupor. Morganna helped him into his chair. “I keep hearing people say that the Cluster is not God. First you, now the captain.” McClintlock fixed Morganna with a gaze of steel.

The lead cook shifted uncomfortably under the evangelist's stare. “Maybe it is,” she said nervously.

McClintlock smiled, making Morganna even more nervous. “We have work to do,” he said congenially. “What can I do to help?"

Morganna almost suggested that the evangelist chop tomatoes. However, she decided that she really did not want to see him wielding a knife. “You can mix up the dough for the pie crusts,” she suggested instead.

On Titan, Manuel Raton and Suki Ellis were surprised that they were placed into the same cell. A force field at the front of the cell held back Titan's cold, toxic atmosphere. In the cell was an Earth-like atmosphere. Their environment suits had been taken from them. “Too bad the only one who knows where we are is Old Man Coffin. I'm guessing he won't be mounting a jailbreak anytime soon,” quipped Raton.

Fire sighed and shook her head at the comment.

Teklar, matriarch of the Titans, ambled up to the cell. She showed teeth capable of ripping huge chunks of ice and introduced herself. A second Titan appeared behind, but kept its distance. “I'm sorry to have kept you waiting all day,” said Teklar.

Manuel's mouth fell open at the unexpected greeting. Fire pushed him aside. “I'm pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Fire. “I'm sorry that we created a situation that has inconvenienced you."

"No time remains for pleasantries,” stated Teklar bluntly. “You know our secrets with regard to the Cluster."

Fire's brow creased. “They are secrets you could not have kept hidden. Why didn't you reveal what you knew about the Cluster?"

"We were afraid,” explained Teklar with a great heave of silver-gray shoulders. “We were slaves. We were afraid that the Cluster would just take us back into their fold and the galaxy would fall."

"The races of the galaxy could come together to help you,” offered Fire.

Teklar fell back onto her haunches. “The other races in the galaxy might be candidate appendages; candidate slaves. The Cluster cannot be destroyed. An en masse action would simply attract attention. The Cluster might stay forever. Surgery was required.” Teklar paused, apparently reluctant to tell more.

"Surgery?” pressed Fire. “What kind of surgery have you been doing?"

"Your son, John Mark Ellis, has a certain passion for your species and a certain ability to relate to all species,” began Teklar. It was time for Fire's mouth to hang open. “There was evidence that he had communicated with the Cluster and it did not take him as an appendage. We hoped he would be able to communicate with the Cluster, convey the sacredness of life and the Cluster would leave us alone."

"Does he know?” Fire's voice was a harsh whisper.

"No,” said Teklar. “Though he might suspect. We've been monitoring his progress."

Manuel Raton stepped forward. “It's wrong to lie to the other beings in the galaxy. You can't let them die while you cowardly skulk away and hide from the Cluster."

"What would you have us do,” growled Teklar.

"Tell the truth,” growled Manuel in response.

"We would all be doomed.” Teklar turned her head.

"Arrogant and selfish is what you are,” said Manuel.

Fire waved him down. “Scared is what she is,” she said quietly. Fire folded her arms. “What do you do if John Mark fails? What if the Cluster decides that they do want him as an appendage? How do you rescue my son who you've been using as a pawn?"

"G'Liat is with him. He is the most powerful Rd'dyggian warrior. He will keep Ellis safe.” Teklar turned to face Fire again.

"But what if he fails!” called Fire. “You said the Cluster cannot be destroyed. Will my son be lost forever?” Fire's voice rose to a shout.

Manuel stepped behind her and gripped her shoulders, rubbing tension away. “She is right, you need a new plan. You, at least, need a backup plan.” Manuel looked into Teklar's vast black eyes. “Even if everything fails, you need to let the rest of the galaxy know what may happen so they can prepare.” Manuel's voice dropped almost to a whisper. “To do otherwise would be wrong."

Teklar was silent for a long time. “We would have to present this information slowly, carefully to avoid panic."

"However you decide. Do it,” urged Fire.

"I will consider it.” With that Teklar and her assistant turned and lumbered from the holding area.

John Mark Ellis returned to his quarters aboard the
Sanson
for the evening to find a flower sitting on his table. Cautiously, as though it might attack him, the captain approached the flower and saw that it included a note. Gingerly, he unfolded and read the note. It requested that he come down to the ship's garden. Rather than maintain air tanks, as many Navy ships did,
Sanson
maintained a garden to produce fresh air. The garden also produced a fresh supply of vegetables for the ship's kitchen. At first, Ellis thought about ignoring the note and going to bed. However, his curiosity got the better of him.

Stepping out of his cabin, Ellis saw G'Liat coming down the corridor. “How are things?” asked Ellis.

"You look much better,” said G'Liat, congenially.

Ellis nodded. Something seemed wrong about the warrior. “You seem worried, though."

"I'm beginning to wonder if it was wise to invite McClintlock along with us.” G'Liat looked around. “Were you headed out?"