Heirs of the New Earth Read online

  A newscaster interrupted President Walker's rerun speech—a literal talking head that floated over the dais of the teleholo—that stated the President was about to make a live announcement. Coffin grinned sourly at the notion of the President interrupting the President.

  "People of Gaea—Mother Earth,” began the President as her miniature image faded into view: a doll standing on the teleholo dais in front of the Gaean flag, “for all of human history, we have been a people in crisis. We have fought wars with one another to determine which group would have the right to rape Gaea—our own mother. Many times, we have raped her to get at the milk of her breast: the fuel to run factories, the land to raise crops and animals. Other times, we have raped her for pleasure: energy to run our teleholos and games. We humans are like depraved sex addicts, who have stopped seeing the Earth as mother..."

  Samuel Coffin shook his head as he listened to the speech. Hadn't the President just been talking about all of the dead around the Earth? Didn't she imply suspicion of the Cluster as the cause of all of the deaths? What was all of this talk about “rape of the Earth?” What did it have to do with the crisis at hand?

  The President went on to say that she had been in contact with the Cluster and explained that each of the Clusters was a life form in itself. “Again, I come before you to mourn the Doomsday Dead. However, I also come before you to tell you that I know definitively that the Cluster did not kill them. The Cluster is ancient and vastly experienced. The Cluster is even older than Mother Gaea. Like Gaea, the Cluster has much to offer the people of the Earth. Earth has tornadoes, earthquakes, and floods that can kill. Still, Earth produces the bounty that allows humans to survive. In much the same way, the Cluster produces a flood of emotional energy. While that flood can be devastating, the experience of the Cluster can be profound."

  Horrified, Coffin turned off the teleholo. Unable to finish his chowder and beer, he let the dishes sit and went upstairs to his room where he undressed and pushed back the covers of his bed, then opened his backpack and retrieved the scrimshaw.

  Sitting down on the bed, Coffin held the scrimshaw and looked at the image of the whale. He thought about the deaths happening around the globe and the glib words of the President. In Coffin's mind, the Cluster was killing people just as his ancestors once hunted whales. Almost reverently, he placed the scrimshaw on the nightstand next to the bed, lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

  He awoke the next morning to a swaying followed by a lurch. He found himself bathed in filtered twilight, but not the twilight of his room in the Ellis house. His nose was invaded by the smell of wet wood mingled with humanity. There was a pungent undertone. “Whale oil?” he half whispered. Wood creaked loudly and he lurched again. He looked at his hands. They looked like the hands of a man thirty years his junior.

  Coffin climbed out of bed and looked around in the dim half-light. There were shutters over the bed. He threw the shutters open and was greeted by the sight of open ocean. He had to grab onto a beam in the wall to keep from stumbling during another lurch. He looked around the room. He was in the after cabin of an old wooden sailing vessel. Charts were laid out on a table. A black coat and pants hung over a chair. Almost involuntarily, he scratched himself and felt the surprising roughness of wool. There was a pounding at the door.

  "Come in,” said Coffin, softly, almost reverently. The pounding came again. “Come in,” he growled loudly.

  A young boy, barely into his teens opened the creaky wooden door. “The mate's compliments, sir,” said the boy. “He would like to know what course to make."

  Coffin rubbed the scraggly hairs of his thin, white beard. He stepped over to the charts. There were not only antique charts of the oceans of the Earth, but star charts as well. The universe had opened up to Coffin. He could see anything he wanted to see; go anywhere he wanted to go. “My God,” muttered Coffin. “What has happened? Have I gone crazy?"

  He was reassured by a soft feminine voice, almost in his head, but not quite, as though it echoed from outside. The sense was strong enough for him to know that he was not imagining this. “This galaxy is new to us. Take us to any place, any time."

  "Sir?” asked the boy standing in the doorway.

  "Damn it, boy! The mate can wait while I get my bearings. Get me some coffee and let me review these charts!” The boy ran from the room, practically slamming the door in his haste to leave. Coffin took a deep breath and smiled. Not only the oceans of the Earth, but the entire galaxy, were his to explore. “Where do we begin?” he whispered.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  SAILORS

  "Man, it stinks in here,” complained Manuel Raton as he entered the quarters that used to be occupied by the Rd'dyggian warrior, G'Liat.

  Ellis shrugged. “G'Liat liked to burn incense. I think it reminded him of Rd'dyggia."

  "Rd'dyggia has a high concentration of ammonia in the soil, doesn't it?” asked Fire, wrinkling her nose.

  Raton nodded sagely. “That explains why it smells like cat piss in here."

  Ellis moved across to a chair and fell into it. He held up his hands apologetically. “The air scrubbers will have the room smelling fresh within a few hours.” The captain retrieved a cigar from his jacket. “Of course, I could cover up the smell."

  Raton waved his hands hurriedly in the air. “No, that's fine. We like it just the way it is."

  Fire sat down at the white table, next to her son. “Mark, I hope you don't mind that Manuel and I invited ourselves along on this mission."

  Mark Ellis grinned ruefully at his mother. “Mind? If Simon's reaction is any indication of what I'm going to face from the rest of the crew, it may be you, Manuel, Kirsten, Laura and I flying the ship back to Earth."

  "You're right to give the crew a choice, Mark,” said Fire, putting her hand on her son's. “You can't force them to go. But, you underestimate them. Most of them will go because they're human and they want to help."

  Mark Ellis nodded, somberly. He looked up at Manuel Raton. “Do you want me to order up some breakfast? You said you were hungry.” There was a bitter edge to Ellis’ voice.

  Manuel moved over to the window and looked out at the stars and the planet orbiting below. “The lingering incense has caused me to lose some of my appetite,” he said matter-of-factly. Looking around at Ellis, Manuel grinned slightly. “Maybe we'll have some breakfast in a little bit."

  Fire squeezed her son's hand. Ellis looked down, refusing to meet her gaze. “Is there something wrong?” asked Fire.

  Ellis shook his head. “I would like to talk to you.” He looked up at Manuel. “Privately."

  Manuel looked around and shrugged. “I think I'm feeling a little hungry after all,” he said patting his stomach. “No need to bother ordering anything, I'll go see if I can find the galley.” With that, Manuel stepped out of the cabin.

  Before the door closed, Ellis noticed that Manuel was facing the wrong direction. “Galley's the other way,” called the captain.

  They saw Manuel turn on his heel just as the door slid closed.

  "What is it, Mark?” asked Fire.

  Mark Ellis looked into his mother's eyes and sighed. “I like Manuel Raton. We fought side-by-side on Sufiro. But, are you..."

  "...sleeping with him?” Fire finished when Mark was unable to complete the thought. It was her turn to stand and move to the window. “Yes, I am."

  "Doesn't it seem a little soon after dad...” Again, Ellis let his thoughts trail off. He thought about his father who had been killed by the Cluster just about a year before.

  Fire let out a long breath as she continued to look out the window. “I loved your father a great deal. However, in the almost 30 years I was married to him, I maybe saw him in the flesh for five of those years. He had been in space well over two years before the Cluster killed him. I was a widow long before he died.” She turned and saw that Mark Ellis’ head was down again. “I don't say that to upset you.” She paused and sat down at the table. “Manuel and
I were close a long time ago. He's helped me heal wounds that would have taken a long time if I'd been alone."

  "It just may take some time for me to adjust to this element of our relationship.” Ellis looked down at his feet.

  Fire leaned across the table and lifted Mark's chin so she could look into his brown eyes. “Relationships are always in flux, kiddo. I meant it when I said I loved your father. You weren't the only one hurt by his loss. But just because he died doesn't mean I can't go on living."

  Ellis nodded, but didn't say anything.

  "How are you and Kirsten getting along?” asked Fire, softly.

  "Pretty well. But our relationship is still pretty new—still changing."

  "It always will,” said Fire, a twinkle in her eye. “That's what makes life exciting."

  Ellis looked back to the cabin door. “Do you suppose Manuel found the galley?"

  "We'd better go see. Besides I'm hungry, too.” Suki Ellis grinned at her son. He stood up from the table, took his mother by the hand and led her to the galley.

  * * * *

  Edmund Swan stood at the door of Ellison Firebrandt's homestead on Sufiro. He remembered the first time he had come to the homestead, less than a year before. At the time, the one-time pirate had summoned him, asking him to lead an army to defend the continent of New Granada from invaders from Sufiro's other major continent, Tejo. At the time, Swan had been afraid, intimidated by the man who had tamed a planet. Now, like many on Sufiro, Swan regarded Firebrandt more as a grandfather figure than leader of a world.

  The door slid open and Roberts greeted Swan. In his eighties, with a completely bald head, Roberts reminded Swan of a pirate flag's skull and even the warm smile managed to send shivers up the deputy sheriff's spine. “Hello, old friend,” said Swan. “Is the captain in?"

  "He is, we're just finishing breakfast.” Roberts maneuvered the hover chair back away from the door, then led the way through the house and up a staircase to the second floor. He drifted through double doors into a glassed-in room that gave a view of Firebrandt's farm and the great river beyond—the Nuevo Rio Grande. Between the farm and river stood a small village called Succor. On the river, a great wooden water wheel turned slowly. Manuel Raton once told Swan that Firebrandt and Roberts had built the wheel by hand during their first year on the planet. It turned an old auxiliary electrical generator from the Legacy. The generator supplied power to the village and the homestead.

  Firebrandt turned his head as Roberts and Swan entered the room. He sat at a delicate-looking glass table holding a porcelain cup in strong, callused hands. “Ah, Edmund!” he exclaimed. “How good to see you.” He set the cup down on the table. “May I offer you a cup of coffee?"

  "That would be nice, thanks,” said Swan. Roberts indicated a chair and Swan sat down. Firebrandt passed a cup of coffee.

  "So, have you heard about what's happened at Earth?” asked Roberts gliding around to one end of the table. He grabbed the carafe and warmed up his coffee.

  "Yes,” said Swan, slowly. “I suppose that's why I'm here. I was in the middle of a holo call with an old friend from Earth when communications died. He was someone I hadn't spoken to in years. For some reason he felt compelled to call me. I'm very worried."

  "You're not the only one,” said Firebrandt. “I just learned that John Mark and Fire will be on their way to Earth soon. They want to find out what's happened."

  Swan took a sip of coffee and then set the cup down on the saucer. “Exactly, and so do I.” The deputy sheriff of New Granada stood, stepped around the table and looked out the window, arms behind his back.

  "Tell me about this friend that called,” said Firebrandt.

  "I haven't talked to him since we were teenagers.” Swan sighed. “Back then, he was a computer genius. He had this notion that he could build a vast data storage device using a black hole."

  Roberts shot a glance at Firebrandt then looked up at Swan. “What has your friend been doing in the years since?"

  "I have no idea.” Swan shrugged.

  Firebrandt stroked his long white mustache for a moment then stood and stepped next to Swan. “The reason Roberts asks is that John Mark thinks that the Clusters may want to form a symbiotic link with humans."

  "Humans might not find your friend's dream very practical,” said Roberts, picking up his coffee cup. “But the Cluster..."

  Firebrandt put his hand on Swan's shoulder. “I begin to think you should go to Earth and see what has become of your friend."

  Swan nodded. “That's what I want to do, but with Manuel gone..."

  "There are other deputy sheriffs here in New Granada,” said Firebrandt. “I think we can spare you.” He gave Swan's shoulder a squeeze. “Besides, you might be able to help John Mark and Fire."

  The doorbell chimed. Roberts activated his hover chair, lifted off the ground and went through the breakfast room's double doors. Swan snorted and moved back to the table, sitting down. “I suspect that John Mark Ellis and your daughter can take care of themselves."

  The one-time pirate captain inclined his head and grinned. “They can also get into a lot of trouble. I suspect they'll need all the help they can get."

  The deputy sheriff sat down and took a sip of his coffee. “That leaves only one problem. How do I get to Earth? I don't have a lot of money and I suspect that most transports aren't in a hurry to go to Earth and find out if the Cluster will destroy them."

  Roberts drifted back into the breakfast room. A seven-foot tall, orange being wearing an eye patch and flowing robes followed behind. “Arepno managed to find us parts for our transfer coupling,” said Roberts, with a pleased grin. “I should have it up and running by this afternoon."

  "Hallelujah!” said Firebrandt. “The harvest may not go to waste after all.” He inclined his head toward the Rd'dyggian pirate captain. “Thank you, my friend. Once again you have saved us."

  Arepno turned his black eye on Swan. “Brother Swan,” he said with the aid of a translator box. “It is agreeable to see you again."

  "And you,” said Swan. The two had fought side-by-side defending New Granada.

  Firebrandt stepped forward. “Arepno, if you would care to earn more gold, I'd be happy to pay you to transport Edmund here to Earth so he can find out what's happened to a friend of his."

  "It would mean facing the Cluster again,” said Arepno, moving around the table. The purple mustache-like appendages in front his mouth wriggled in agitation. He sat down and remained silent for several moments. “Learning exactly what the Cluster is doing could be valuable information,” mused the pirate, at last. “Sounds exhilarating."

  "Sounds like you have your ride,” said Firebrandt, forcing a brave smile. “I'll pay your fare. All I ask is that you check on John Mark and Fire."

  "I will, sir,” said Swan. The deputy sheriff stood and shook Firebrandt's hand. Turning, he left with the Rd'dyggian warrior.

  Ellison Firebrandt picked up his coffee cup and looked out the window, not out toward the river and the fields, but back toward the sleek, black hull of the old privateer vessel that he and Roberts had used as the foundation of their homestead. “How many years have we been here?” mused the captain.

  Roberts moved the hover chair next to Firebrandt and looked out at the ship. Few people had noticed that over the years broken gun ports had been replaced with new weapons, and that the doorways that led from the ship to the adobe part of the house were now equipped with space-worthy airlocks. “We've been on Sufiro over fifty years, sir,” said Roberts with a gleam in his eye.

  "That's a lot of time,” said Firebrandt. “Time enough to repair almost all of the damage done to a ship that crash landed. Isn't it?"

  "Almost?” Roberts lifted an eyebrow. “I'd say the man who couldn't make a vessel spaceworthy in fifty years should be shoved out the nearest airlock rather than serve on your crew, sir."

  Firebrandt took another sip of his coffee, then smiled. “I think it may be time to get some fuel and a minimal cre
w assembled.” He examined the recently cleaned thrusters that surrounded the EQ generator at the ship's stern.

  "You know, launching the ship will likely destroy the homestead,” said Roberts.

  Firebrandt nodded. “If we don't launch the ship, the homestead may be destroyed anyway."

  "We'll miss the harvest,” said Roberts, wryly.

  Firebrandt looked at his friend and winked. “I don't think you'll miss it at all."

  * * * *

  Eva Cooper sat in her office in the old White House Building in the Columbia District. Holographic charts floated above the desk, showing depictions of the President's brain-wave patterns. Having an implant, the President's brain activity was routinely monitored. It was done for health reasons as well as planetary security. Cooper had sample scans from the past three years along with a scan that had been taken within the past 24 hours.

  A sharp rapping sounded at the door. “Come in,” said Cooper, absentmindedly.

  Dick Richards strode into the office and sighed when he saw the three-dimensional charts hovering over Cooper's desk. “You're supposed to have me here if you call up the President's brain scans,” complained the Planetary Minister.

  Cooper looked up at Richards. “How did you know I was looking at the President's brain scans?"

  "The White House protocol sensors alerted me.” Richards sat down in one of the plush chairs in front of Cooper's desk. “No one person is supposed to access that information—it's a breach of security."

  Cooper shook her head. “I'm not planning a coup—I just wanted to see if everything was okay."

  "In what sense?” asked Richards; his eyebrows came together. His fingers danced on the chair's wooden armrest.

  "Before I answer that ... How exactly did the Cluster contact the President? I've looked over the White House communication's logs. The Cluster's communication is not logged."