Heirs of the New Earth (13 page)

"Natalie, please pause those statistics,” said Kirsten. The newscaster continued to speak, while the graphs remained still. Without Natalie's action, the graphs would have vanished after a brief appearance on the screen. Kirsten walked up and examined the information. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Over 60 percent of the Earth's population is dead,” she gasped.

"But the Cluster doesn't want humans dead,” said Ellis after a moment, breaking the nearly palpable silence that filled the command deck. He stepped forward and examined the statistical charts himself.

The newscaster went on to talk about the President's recent successes. Jenna Walker had found housing for all the people of the Earth. New approaches to medical care, education and farming were announced along with new sources of fuel. The President, along with a surprisingly supportive Senate anticipated a nearly instant reduction in taxes.

Fire and Manuel stepped onto the command deck as Smart and Ellis walked around the oblivious image of the newscaster who was reading a report about the improvement of air quality in Southern California and Arizona. “This is bizarre,” said Kirsten, her eyebrows knitted. “It's like the Earth has been hit with an epidemic of depression."

Fire walked up and stood next to Laura Peters’ console. “This report sounds like Earth is becoming a nice place to live, though,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Kirsten motioned for Fire to look at the same set of statistics she was examining. Fire whistled as she looked at the astonishing death rate.

"We already know that the Cluster can tap into emotions,” said Ellis, grimly. “It sounds like they're tapping some pretty dark ones."

Manuel shrugged. “But that would be more trouble than the Cluster needs to go to. Why make people kill themselves when it has so much firepower at its disposal? It could just decimate the surface of the planet if it wanted to."

"That's very true.” Ellis felt around his shirt until he found a cigar. With it, he pointed to the newscaster. “But then, listen to the newscast. Not everyone has been hit with depression. It sounds like the politicians have broken through layers of dogma.” He shook his head. “Taxes haven't been reduced in nearly five centuries—not meaningfully at any rate."

The newscaster reported that gang violence had virtually ceased in metropolitan areas around the globe. If it weren't for the death statistics sitting in front of his nose, Ellis would be tempted to believe that the Cluster's appearance was beneficial for humanity. He placed the cigar in his mouth, but did not light it.

"Entering orbit in ten minutes,” reported Laura Peters. “The Clusters still haven't responded to our presence."

"Proceed with orbital entry,” ordered Ellis, removing the cigar. “It's pretty clear that the Cluster isn't shooting at anyone. I don't think we have anything to fear at the moment."

Manuel licked his lips. “Okay, we're at Earth. Now what do we do?"

"Our mission is reconnaissance,” said Simon. “We have these newscasts recorded. Can't we just take this information back to Alpha Coma?"

Mark shook his head. “I'm afraid not. All we have is circumstantial evidence that the Cluster is behind the deaths."

"Pretty good circumstantial evidence, if you ask me,” said Simon sharply.

Fire shook her head at the first mate. “We know that the Cluster can manipulate emotions and it's here. That's opportunity. However, we don't have a motive. As far as we know, the Cluster wants to form a symbiosis with humanity."

"We need to go to the planet,” said Mark stepping back toward the command chair. “We need to find out what's happening, first hand."

"Where do we go?” asked Manuel.

Kirsten inclined her head. “We don't want to attract attention. We're a mapping ship home from a voyage. The first thing I'd do is check in."

The captain nodded. “Mr. Yermakov, would you please prepare the launch for a flight to TransGalactic Headquarters in Japan.” He placed the unlit cigar back in his shirt pocket.

"Aye, sir,” said Yermakov, looking glum.

Surgeon General Eva Cooper strolled around the lawn of the White House in the Columbia District. She needed some fresh air after reading reports of people being found around the world in almost a comatose state. The people were among the best and brightest minds. They weren't dead like the Doomsday Dead, just absent from their bodies, somehow. Looking up through the force field that surrounded the compound, she saw that the sky was bluer than she'd noticed before. The President was taking credit for the improvement in air quality. The Surgeon General snorted. While she knew that the President's initiatives were going to improve air pollution, she also realized that the nearly instant improvements were simply due to less people on the planet.

Eva Cooper gasped when she saw Jenna Walker stepping lightly across the grass. The President smiled and waved. Seeing the President in a light, summer dress that revealed tantalizing hints of skin around the upper breasts and thighs caused an embarrassing heat to rise in the doctor. Blushing, Cooper waved back.

The President came alongside Cooper and linked arms with her. “I love walking out here,” said the President. “Planetary Security doesn't feel that they have to watch me like a hawk when I'm under the force field.” The two strolled over the grass, arm-in-arm in ardent silence.

Eva Cooper felt a surprising desire to lean her head against Jenna's shoulder and allow herself to be carried away in the moment. Fear kept her looking straight ahead. Partially, the fear was of the President herself and the power she represented and the fact that somehow Jenna had been in communication with the Cluster. However, there was a deeper layer to the fear. She was simply afraid that she might actually love Jenna Walker.

Jenna stopped in front of a flowerbed, knelt down and smelled a red rose. “I've missed you, Eva,” said Jenna in hushed tones.

"I've missed you, too.” Eva heard herself saying the words, but doubted her feelings. “I've been worried about you.” The second sentence held more certainty and conviction.

"Why?” asked Jenna—a smile like sunshine lit up her face. “I have never felt better in my life.” Jenna's smile faded as she looked into Eva's downcast features. “I'm sorry I haven't been around more. After our morning together—after Arlington—I've wanted to get back together, to talk more, maybe to explore our feelings more."

"Jenna,"—the President's smile brightened again when Eva used her first name—"my feelings are confused; but more about you and the Cluster than you and me."

"I see,” said Jenna, looking from Eva to the rose. “Dick tells me that the Cluster hasn't spoken to you."

Eva nodded, not certain whether Jenna saw or not. “What does it mean? What is the Cluster?"

Jenna walked along the path a little further, then paused, but did not turn to face Eva. “The Cluster is, maybe, the most ancient form of life there is. She's older than the Titans and she is beautiful. From her perspective, all of the problems of Earth look like child's play to solve."

"How does she talk to you, Jenna?” asked Eva, taking a few cautious steps toward the President.

"I'm not exactly sure. It's like she talks to the very essence of my being; my emotional core, as it were.” Jenna's voice held a dream-like quality. She knelt by another rose bush. “I remember words, but I don't know if they were words."

"The dead, Jenna,” said Eva softly. “What of the Doomsday Dead? You said in your speech the other day that the Cluster was responsible, but you absolved it.” Eva's voice remained soft, but developed a razor edge. “How do you absolve something for killing over half the people of the planet?"

Jenna stood, her back tense. “To grow the most beautiful garden, you have to cull the weeds. The Earth became overridden with weeds."

"If I can't speak to the Cluster, does that make me one of the weeds?” asked Eva, horrified.

Jenna turned slowly, her head inclined. She reached out and wiped a tear from Eva's cheek. “No, you're a beautiful flower."

Eva looked into Jenna's eyes and wanted to fall into them. She wanted to be held by Jenna and ... the thought hung for several moments, pregnant and unspoken. “I'm the beautiful flower and you're the gardener,” she burst out at last, then spun on her heel and ran as fast as she could back to the White House. She could hear Jenna Walker calling her name behind her.

Eva didn't stop running until she came to her office. She threw open the door, slammed it behind her and locked it. Throwing herself into her chair she put her face in her hands and cried for several minutes—irrational, blind fear and a sense of betrayal overrode every other emotion. She wanted to believe Jenna—wanted to believe the Cluster had come to Earth for good. But, human lives compared to weeds? She could never believe that in this circumstance, the President would view herself as some kind of master gardener over all of the lives of the planet.

A series of beeps sounded, bringing Eva to the reality of her surroundings. She wiped her eyes and reached for a tissue and blew her nose. Activating her teleholo, Eva realized that the beeps were a notice. The TransGalactic Mapping Vessel
Nicholas Sanson
had just entered orbit around the Earth. Her computer had been scanning for it. The ship that had first encountered the Cluster had come home.

Eva looked up the location of TransGalactic's home office. She nodded approvingly and chartered a transport for Japan. Arrangements made, the Surgeon General, stood, straightened her coat, and left the White House Complex, determined to get some answers.

The launch from the
Nicholas Sanson
made its way toward the islands of Japan. Aboard were John Mark Ellis, Kirsten Smart, Suki Ellis and Manuel Raton. Ellis called for permission to land at Tokyo Spaceport—mentioning the fact that they had business with TransGalactic Corporation. “You're cleared for Shikoku if you'd like,” came the voice from city control.

"No way!” exclaimed Kirsten. “I've never been cleared directly for Shikoku. It's always too crowded."

"If we're cleared, let's go for it. I don't wanna walk too far,” grumbled Raton.

Ellis nodded and acknowledged city control saying they were rerouting to the Shikoku landing strip. As they came down, automated controls directed the launch, keeping it clear of traffic. However, Ellis felt there was too little movement. The launch wasn't dodging or swerving as it normally would when coming down into a congested part of a city.

"What's happened to all the traffic?” asked Kirsten, sensing Mark's concern.

Fire and Manuel looked at each other, then looked out the windows. “Looks like a lot of hover cars to me,” said Manuel, seeing more hovers than he was used to seeing.

"You're from a rural planet,” said Ellis. “This might be a lot of traffic for a place like Tejo City back on Sufiro—but it's nothing for Japan."

The launch settled itself smoothly on the landing platform. Mark, Kirsten, Fire, and Manuel stepped out and were surprised to find a cab waiting at the landing port that could take them directly to TransGalactic. As they flew over the city, they were struck by how few pedestrians made their way along the streets.

"It's a great day, isn't it?” asked the cab driver, trying to make conversation.

"It is a nice day,” said Fire. “But, we've been off planet and just heard about all the people committing suicide."

"Yeah,” said the Cabbie. “They're just a bunch of losers. I think the planet's better off without ‘em."

Mark, Fire, Manuel and Kirsten looked from one to the other, not believing the cab driver's response. They were grateful when he set the cab down in front of the TransGalactic building.

There was no receptionist on duty in the lobby of the TransGalactic building. “This place gives me the creeps,” said Fire. “Too quiet."

"It shouldn't be this quiet,” affirmed Kirsten, leading the way back to an elevator tube. They rode in silence to a floor near the top of the building. Mark remembered his last visit to the building with Clyde McClintlock and G'Liat. This was where they'd come to meet the company's Senior Mathematician—a formidable woman named Kumiko Meiji.

Kirsten led the party into Meiji's cavernous office. The room was littered with waist-high pedestals. Over each pedestal floated stars and grid lines. The holographic projections were the aids used by every human-built star vessel in the galaxy to navigate. Near the center of the room, a well-dressed woman sat in a lotus position on the floor. Her eyes stared out in wonder. “Ms. Meiji,” exclaimed Mark.

"Kumiko,” called Kirsten. She knelt down on the floor and checked her friend's pulse.

"What's going on?” asked Manuel. “Is she in some kind of trance?"

The four were startled by the sound of the office door opening. A woman entered that none of them knew. She had a beak-like nose and wide, curious eyes. Stepping past the four, the woman knelt down next to Kumiko Meiji and looked at her eyes and then listened to her breathing. The woman shook her head and stood up, looking at the four. “Are you from the
Sanson
?” she asked.

Brow knitted, Mark nodded and offered his hand. “Yes, ma'am. I'm Captain John Mark Ellis."

The woman breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm Dr. Eva Cooper,” she said accepting Mark's hand. “I was hoping I'd find you here."

"The Surgeon General of the Gaean Alliance?” asked Kirsten, disbelieving.

"The same,” she said with a pleasant smile.

"What's wrong with her?” asked Manuel, indicating Ms. Meiji sitting on the floor.

"I don't know,” said Eva, shaking her head. “It seems that thousands of people around the world have ended up just like her. It started after the Doomsday Deaths, but there are a lot fewer people like this, so they weren't noticed at first. They don't seem in any danger, but they're not responding. It's like their minds are elsewhere."

"What's going on?” asked Fire, hands on her hips. “People are dying. People are comatose. For the most part, it doesn't even seem like the people care. What's going on?"

"I was hoping you would give me some of the answers,” said Eva, thoughtfully.

"I think,” said Mark, folding his arms, “it's time to sit down and compare notes."