Heirs of the New Earth (17 page)

Distracted from the list for a moment, he commanded, “Show course projection of Cluster departing Earth.” He pointed at the Cluster he meant. A yellow line shot out from the Cluster. “Show any jump points on that course projection.” A red blinking dot appeared in front of the Cluster.

Laura, intrigued by what Simon was doing in the holo tank stepped forward and joined him. “Where's that one going?"

"Show jump point destination.” Simon pointed to the coordinates above the blinking jump point.

Laura's eyes went wide. “That's the center of the galaxy,” she said. “What do you suppose it wants there?"

He shook his head while she looked at the list that he had generated. She looked up at Natalie. “Are you still taking Proxom?"

Natalie looked up from her console and smiled. “I hate to say it, but yes. I know it interferes with my implant, but it keeps me from having nightmares about the Cluster."

Laura looked at Simon. “Sir, I don't want to ask this ... but I've guessed for a while that you take Proxom. Do you?"

Simon sniffed and looked away for a moment, watching as the Cluster reached the jump point and vanished. He looked back to Laura and nodded without saying anything. Laura looked back at the list. “Computer, highlight all crewmembers currently with Proxom prescriptions."

"Classified information,” protested the computer.

"Override,” called Simon in an unusually authoritative tone. “This is a matter of ship's security. First officer's authority.” The names of ten crewmembers, including Simon and Natalie were highlighted in green.

"None of the people who are on Proxom were affected by the Cluster,” said Laura.

Simon shook his head. “That's not enough to go on. It's only ten members of the crew."

"But,” protested Laura. “Proxom is an emotion stabilizer. Wouldn't it make sense that people on Proxom might have some immunity to the Cluster?"

Simon inclined his head. “A good hypothesis,” he said as he stepped out of the holo tank and made his way toward the command chair. “Thing is, I think we need more data to be sure.” Just then, he stumbled slightly. Turning on his heel, he looked back at Laura. “Did you feel that?"

She took a couple of steps. “I think so, but I'm not quite sure."

"Check it,” he ordered and continued to the command chair.

Laura sat down at her station and poured over the sensor data of the previous minutes. The
Nicholas Sanson
was a mapping vessel with equipment highly tuned to the galaxy's gravitational currents. The ship could literally feel its way from jump point to jump point mapping the course as it went. Unlike most space vessels, the
Sanson
actually rocked and swayed gently as competing gravitational forces from different bodies in the galaxy tugged at it.

"Sir,” said Laura looking up. “There was a density wave spike just moments ago."

The ship began to list ever so slightly. Most people who stood on
Sanson's
deck would probably not have felt it, but Simon and Laura looked at each other. Again, Laura checked her sensors. “We're picking up some kind of major gravitational shift, sir."

"Point of origin?” asked Simon.

She looked up. “It's from the center of the galaxy, sir."

Samuel Coffin stood at the aft rail of the
Pequod
looking at the point of light where John Mark Ellis had rowed the whaleboat only a few hours before. He hoped he would see his friend row back and let them know what he found. He feared that Ellis was, in fact, lost forever.

Kumiko Meiji joined Coffin at the aft railing and followed his gaze. “Still no sign of Ellis?” she asked.

Coffin simply shook his head. Just then, he saw a flash of silver near the point of light. He watched it attentively for several moments. Soon, he realized it was another ship—the silver spaceship he had seen before. It moved around the black hole and stopped. A blue beam shot out from the ship's bow and struck a distant star.

Meiji gasped when she saw the star start to move. “That's impossible."

Coffin nodded without saying a word. He looked around and saw Elisha Folger. “Mr. Folger,” he said quietly. “I think it's time to go."

"All hands!” called Folger, but his voice cracked. He moved forward slightly and called again. “All hands, prepare to make sail!"

The midshipman that Coffin had seen upon waking in his cabin his first day aboard the
Pequod
scurried up the ladder to the aft deck. “Sir,” he called. “We have new orders from the admiralty.” The boy handed a piece of paper to Coffin.

Coffin took the paper and read the orders. “That's impossible,” he said as he handed the paper to Meiji.

"We couldn't move stars around even if we wanted to,” she said when she'd finished reading the note. “And I don't see any reason why we'd want to."

The midshipman shook his head. “I'm afraid it's out of your hands, now,” he said.

He pointed forward and a yellow beam shot from the
Pequod's
bow toward a distant star.

John Mark Ellis sat in Timothy Gibbs’ drafting room staring at a set of plans. Gibbs had explained that he had designed a storage device that could hold almost limitless data. It utilized the gravitational compression of a supermassive black hole—one just slightly larger than the black hole at the center of the galaxy. Data could be retrieved from the device by directing Quinnium particles through the black hole at precise frequencies.

However, as Ellis examined the plans, he realized that the supermassive black hole would collimate vast amounts of energy, creating a radio-frequency jet. If enough stars in the center of the galaxy were pulverized, it would create a gas halo around the black hole, changing the frequency of the radio energy projected from the center of the galaxy to something quite different from similar radio jets in other galaxies. If care was taken, and the density of the halo varied, the signal could be made to pulse.

Ellis rubbed his chin. “A beacon,” he said aloud, even though there was no one else in the room. The Cluster was using humans to help design and build a memory core at the center of the galaxy and the core included a beacon to alert others to its presence.

The captain sat back and took a deep breath. He knew what the Cluster was building, but he didn't know why and a chill crept up his spine as he considered the “others” the Cluster might want to contact. Was this another species that the Cluster had contacted? If so, how powerful might they be?

He looked around at the room he was in. There were state-of-the-art computer terminals and teleholo units. Drafting and test equipment littered the tables. Looking up, tasteful art decorated the walls. He couldn't help thinking that much as he liked Van Gogh's “Starry Night” he would much prefer to see a seascape. As he watched, Ellis saw the painting change into the seascape that hung in his own house above the fireplace.

Ellis looked down at his body, suddenly aware that he had not eaten or relieved himself in several hours and the realization did not inspire any urges within him. As he looked down at his body, he wished he could do something about some of the extra fat he carried around. As he watched, his stomach flattened.

He smiled to himself, not so much because of his better physique, but because these two experiments demonstrated something he suspected since arriving aboard the
Pequod
—that he was not someplace in body, but someplace in mind. Somehow, the Cluster had copied his brain patterns and placed them in a place where he could think and act. It was as though a file had been copied from one computer—his brain—to another computer. The question was, where was the second computer?

Ellis looked back at the drafting table, realizing that if the Cluster could copy his memory, life, and experiences—everything that was him—to some new location, the Cluster might be looking for a place to copy all of its experiences. Such a place would have to be a vast storage cell.

He felt around his shirt for a cigar and was somehow not surprised when he found one. He put it in his mouth and lit it. “If someone doesn't like the smell,” he grumbled, “they can wish it away."

Looking at the table, he saw the teleholos and had a thought. Sitting down at one, he put in the code for his home on Earth. He was only slightly surprised when his mother did, in fact, answer. “Mom,” he called. “It's John Mark. Can you hear me?"

"I can hear and see you,” she said with something of a sheepish grin. “Where are you, Mark?"

"I'm not entirely sure,” he admitted. “I think I may be ‘aboard’ one of the Cluster ships, but I'm not exactly sure. How's everyone at the house?"

"I'm not exactly sure, either,” she said. “I've been taken someplace else, as well.” Her brow creased. “It's a very comforting place. It reminds me of dad's homestead on Sufiro. The Cluster has been talking—at least I think it's talking.” She shook her head. “I feel like the Cluster has nothing but good intentions for humanity."

Ellis shook his head. “Mom, the Cluster is up to something. It's building something big at the center of the galaxy—a giant memory core. The problem is, I don't know why, yet."

Suki Ellis gasped. “I think it's time to go. I'm going to have to leave."

"Tell the others,” called Mark. “If you see them, tell the others about the memory core."

Suki Ellis’ face disappeared from the teleholo. Mark pounded his fist on the table and rolled the cigar to the other side of his mouth, chewing it contemplatively. He drew on the cigar then exhaled slowly, realizing he had to get back to the
Pequod
. There, perhaps he and Coffin could compare notes and develop a strategy.

He stood and went back to the door through which he'd entered the lab. As he expected to find—or rather, as he willed to find—the
Pequod's
whaleboat was tied to a dock. Looking in the distance, he saw a light—similar to the one he'd entered when he'd left the
Pequod.
The captain untied the rope from the dock and climbed in the boat.

Suki Firebrandt Ellis blinked her eyes several times, as the scene before became the familiar one of her kitchen on Nantucket. She tensed as G'Liat's massive head suddenly appeared in front of her. “Welcome back,” said the Rd'dyggian warrior. He looked at her for a moment before he moved back toward the couch.

She blinked several times, then looked around and saw that Kirsten was seated with her at the table while Dr. Cooper sat in the easy chair in front of the fireplace. “Where's Manuel?” she asked, suddenly alarmed.

"He went to answer a teleholo call,” answered Kirsten.

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."