Heirs of the New Earth (7 page)

Like Athena, Jenna Walker found herself born fully formed. However, while Athena had sprung from the head of the male god, Zeus, Jenna Walker came from the uterus and vagina of a god-like female. Whereas Athena was born armed with spear, helm and mail, Jenna was armed only with those things that had prompted Eva Cooper to call her beautiful: deep brown eyes, an easy smile, long, muscled legs, well-proportioned hips and breasts. Jenna Walker took a moment to admire her body as more than just so much anatomy put together, but as a deliciously sensuous whole.

The light of knowledge washed over Jenna and she became aware that she was in the presence of the mind of one of the Clusters that orbited the Earth, but she was confused and wanted more information. The woman who had given birth to Jenna reached down and gathered her into her arms, bringing Jenna to her breast. Jenna brushed the woman's long, black hair from a nipple that seemed rigid and unyielding, more like a sculpture of Venus than the tender fleshiness of a human. Instinct told Jenna to latch onto the breast in spite of its cold rigidity and, indeed, she did. As she suckled, it seemed that the woman that held her became warmer, more tender, more human. At the same time, Jenna's mind filled with images of an Earth she'd never dreamed of before.

Jenna had always known the Earth as a planet overrun by people. However, the governments of Earth had been able to keep the people fed by utilizing resources from outside. Ice was mined from the asteroid belt and brought to Earth to provide fresh water. There were farms and mines on Mars that supplied the people of the Earth. Maintaining all of these outside resources was a delicate dance of politics, money and technology. Jenna had been part of the dance ever since she had been elected a Senator, then named a Minister and ultimately elected President of the Alliance. She knew that many felt the tax structure of Earth was too steep. It made housing a challenge for many people. During her presidential campaign, she'd vowed to meet the challenge, though it was beginning to look insurmountable.

Then came the Clusters.

Then came Doomsday.

Jenna was all too aware that both occurrences could spell disaster for her moderately successful presidency. Neither occurrence was her fault, but that's not the way people saw it. As Jenna drank in the sweet milk of the Cluster she saw Doomsday in a new light that was both frightening and compelling. Less people on the Earth meant less people to feed. Less people on the Earth meant less people to house. Jenna looked into the green eyes of Mother-Cluster and somehow conveyed her sadness for all the lives lost.

Mother-Cluster smiled, “It is sweet of you to care for those who died.” Her voice was surprisingly gentle, not booming or resounding as one might expect from a godlike entity. “They were invited to be born again. However, the images my sisters and I presented were too intense for them and they simply did not understand. Birth is a dangerous process—rebirth even more so. Some are stillborn; others miscarry. Those who survive are the strongest. Grieve for those who died, for they will not know the wonders you and the rest of the survivors are about to experience."

Looking into Mother-Cluster's eyes, Jenna caught the briefest glimpse of billions of years of experience. The Cluster could take humanity into the future. In that flash, Jenna saw how much more productively machines could be used on Mars and in the asteroids. She saw ways that the Earth could be cleaned up and made beautiful without giving up the comforts she had grown to love. Humans with little vision or drive had been swept asunder. She would work with the remaining humans to rebuild the planet; humans, with a drive to serve their fellow man, had imagination, and wanted to explore.

"Yes, my little one,” said Mother-Cluster, “Grieve for those who have died. But also celebrate with those who live. You are the heirs of a new Earth that you will build. You will be remembered forever."

Jenna released Mother-Cluster's breast—now softer, almost human—and swallowed the milk. A tear ran down her cheek and she woke up to find herself in the arms of Eva Cooper. Jenna gently extracted herself from Eva's arms and kissed the doctor on the forehead. The President of Gaean Alliance tucked in her blouse, threw on her jacket and slipped into her shoes. With a deep breath of resolve she knew she had work to do.

Arriving aboard the
Nicholas Sanson
, John Mark Ellis, Kirsten Smart, Suki Ellis and Manuel Raton immediately went to the ship's command deck. Navigator Laura Peters turned at the sound of the lift door opening, with a look of faint relief. The ship's first mate, Simon Yermakov—a man whose round face and puffy cheeks gave him the appearance of a squirrel—turned in his chair. “Top of the morning, Skipper,” he said. “We've been trying to reach you all night."

"We've heard the news,” said Ellis, tersely. “It seems that the Cluster ships have turned up at Earth."

"So much for this week's pay,” said Yermakov, wryly.

"We might just be able to save your check, Simon,” said Kirsten with a twinkle in her eye. “I have volunteered
Sanson
for a special reconnaissance mission."

"Recon mission?” asked Laura—who served in the Confederation Reserves, in addition to being the
Sanson's
navigator.

"We're a mapping vessel,” chirped in Simon. “What's going on here?"

Ellis motioned for Yermakov and Peters to come toward the back of the command deck where, he introduced his mother and Manuel. “Has G'Liat left the ship, yet?"

Simon Yermakov nodded ascent. “He left yesterday. A Rd'dyggian charter vessel picked him up."

"Good,” said Ellis, nodding. “I'd like you to get someone to fix up his quarters for my mother and Mr. Raton."

Simon inclined his head, examining the two new arrivals. Manuel Raton was a man of medium height with salt-and-pepper hair, a long, drooping mustache, and sleepy-looking eyes that hid keen skills of observation. Somehow he seemed as though he would be more at home with hepler pistols in each hand than at the side of the captain's mother. Fire Ellis was tall and rail thin, except for an expansive bosom that made her look top-heavy. She stood, hands on hips, her eyes admiring the command deck of the
Nicholas Sanson.
Her almost battle-ready stance made Simon re-evaluate his first impression—Manuel Raton
was
at home with this woman.

"Will do, Skipper,” said Simon, acknowledging Ellis’ request. “Now what's this about recon work? The
Sanson
won't even be ready to leave orbit for another two weeks."

Ellis looked from Simon to Laura. “Where's Natalie?” asked Ellis, realizing that the ship's communicator was not on the Command Deck.

Laura Peters let out a slow breath. “In the infirmary. When Earth went silent, it was too much for her. She collapsed."

"The Emergency Med Tech gave her some Proxom to calm her nerves,” explained Simon.

Kirsten frowned. “Proxom interferes with the communication's implant. Are you sure that's wise?"

Simon Yermakov shrugged. “It seemed better than having her hysterical. The Med Tech suggested it for a dose or two, then we'd see if we can bring her off."

Ellis nodded approval. “Good. We'll need her back to duty as soon as she's able. In the meantime, I want to talk to you two,” he nodded to Peters and Yermakov in turn. “I have been appointed a Captain in the Alpha Coma Space Fleet with the mission of finding out just what exactly has happened on Earth. Kirsten has volunteered the
Sanson
to serve as my command.” Ellis chewed his lower lip for a moment and Simon made a motion as though he were about to interrupt, but seemed to change his mind. Ellis continued, “I want to make it absolutely clear that no one aboard the
Sanson
is obligated to come on this mission. You are civilians and this is a military mission. However, the
Sanson
has a good crew that works well together. I do not want to break this crew up if I don't have to. If you two stick with me, I'm sure most of the crew will come along. All of us want to find out what's happened to our friends and family back on Earth. I need you. Are you with me?"

"You can count on me, sir,” piped Laura Peters.

Simon Yermakov looked down at his feet. Briefly, he looked back up into Laura's beaming face, then saw Kirsten's supportive smile, then looked nervously at the imposing figures of Fire and Manuel. He looked back at his feet and shook his head. Lower lip trembling, Simon stepped over to the command deck's holographic viewer and looked off into the image of space.

Captain Ellis lifted his hand, indicating that the rest of the people should stay where they were. He alone went up to Simon and put his hand on the first mate's shoulder. “Simon, is there anything I can say to persuade you?"

Simon took a deep, shuddering breath. “Skipper, I have a talent for geography. When I was a kid, I could name the capital of every one of the major planets and tell you just where it was located before most kids could tell you the ABC's. I'm a good mathematician and a decent physicist. All of those talents brought me to the galactic cartography division of the TransGalactic Corporation. I like maps and equations better than people—that's why I shipped out. What do I owe the people of the Earth?"

"What about your parents? Siblings?” asked Ellis, softly.

"I never knew my father,” said Yermakov. “But, what else is new? My mom left Earth after I went to work for TransGalactic. She lives on New Earth. My sister followed her."

"The Cluster is a threat to humans everywhere,” explained Ellis, calmly.

Simon slammed his palm against the wall then took a few deep breaths and nodded. “I'm a good map maker. I should have been captain of this ship. Not you."

Ellis inhaled deeply and looked up at the ceiling. Simon Yermakov had been up for promotion to the captaincy of
Sanson
when he, G'Liat and McClintlock had started looking for a ship that could take them in search of the Cluster. G'Liat had pulled strings with the TransGalactic Corporation and landed them jobs on the
Sanson.
Kirsten Smart had confessed to Ellis that she had not wanted Yermakov as captain. The same thing that placed Yermakov on a ship to begin with—the fact that he didn't enjoy working with people—was the same thing that kept him from the captaincy. Kirsten considered it a blessing when Ellis had been named the new captain. Ellis blinked and looked at Yermakov's back. “What would you do if you were captain of the
Sanson
?"

Yermakov's back stiffened. “My first order of business would be the repair of the ship,” he said simply.

"What would happen after the ship was repaired? What would you do?” Ellis stepped up to Yermakov and whispered in his ear. “TransGalactic isn't responding. There are no instructions."

"You know damned well what I'd do,” growled Yermakov. “I'd consult Kirsten. She's the corporate officer. It would be her decision."

"And you know damned well what she wants to do,” Ellis growled back. “She's back there, ready to take this ship into Hell to find out what's happened."

Yermakov turned suddenly and looked Ellis in the eye. “Only because of you, Captain, sir,” he spat. “She loves you."

Ellis put his hands behind his back. “This is the critical question, Mr. Yermakov. Has that love really changed her? Would her decision to go back to Earth—resources permitting—be any different? Or, are you just using my presence as an excuse?"

Yermakov looked down at his feet. “Damn you,” he said, simply.

Ellis risked putting his hand on Yermakov's shoulder. “Will you come with us to Earth? You're more than a good mapmaker. You know this ship better than me—better even than Kirsten."

"Mahuk knows the ship. He has family on Earth—he'll go with you."

"But, Mahuk isn't the first officer. You are.” Ellis squeezed Simon's shoulder. “I need you. Kirsten needs you. Mahuk needs you."

"I have to think about it, Skipper,” said Yermakov simply. “If you're sincere that we're not obligated to follow, you'll at least allow me time to decide whether or not I'm going to Earth, won't you?"

Ellis nodded. “Will you, at least, agree to stay on for the next day or so and oversee the repairs to the ship?"

Yermakov looked into Ellis’ eyes again. This time, the gaze softened. “I'll do that much for you, sir. I have to think about the rest."

The captain stepped into the hologram of space and looked around at the floating images of stars. “The government of Alpha Coma Bereneces has put all of their resources at our disposal. Given that, how long do you think it'll be before the ship can be ready to proceed toward Earth?"

"I'd have to consult Mr. Mahuk,” said Yermakov. “But I'm guessing it'll only take three to four days with unlimited manpower and no wait time for parts."

"Then meet with Mr. Mahuk and speed up your repairs, Mr. Yermakov,” trumpeted Ellis. More quietly, “You have two days to make up your mind.” The captain stepped back to the rear of the command deck where Suki and Manuel waited. Natalie had returned to her post at navigation and Kirsten had stepped into her office. “Shall I show you to your quarters?” asked Ellis.

"Please do,” said Fire, nodding to her son.

"Then find us some food,” said Manuel. “I'm starving."

Eva Cooper awoke several hours later. Her head swam as she tried to remember what had happened before she fell asleep. The memories came back to her in a rush. She bit her lower lip, feeling both liberated and frightened. Thighs sticky and hair mussed, she sat up, realizing that she would have to exit through the Oval Office. Looking at her watch, she gasped at the time. Anyone could be there. Peeking into the hall, she saw that there was a restroom across the way. She did her best with the sink and washcloth to make herself look presentable. Returning to the bedchamber, she finished dressing, then went to the door that led to the President's office. Eva eased the door open and looked in to see the President meeting with the holographic images of numerous Senators from around the planet. Their discussion had an eerie, almost philosophic tone. They were talking about diseases that the doctor knew to be incurable. However, as she listened, she realized that the President and the Senators were talking about cures—and the cures sounded completely plausible and obvious. It was as though there wasn't such a thing as an incurable disease.