Heirs of the New Earth (12 page)

"Southern Arizona spaceport,” explained Arepno. “Do you require transport to your friend's domicile?"

Swan pursed his lips and thought about it for a few minutes. “No,” he said shaking his head. “I'll just catch a cab."

"Very good,” said Arepno. With that, the warrior turned and faced his console again, putting his hands on the control plate.

With a shrug, Swan stepped into the tunnel extending toward the ground. At the end of the tunnel, he found his luggage waiting. He grabbed it and stepped out onto the tarmac of the Southern Arizona spaceport. The first thing he noticed was how blue the sky was. Growing up in Tucson sector, the sky was almost always hazy. The second thing he noticed was how quiet it was. Typically ships blasted off and landed at regular intervals. Looking around, it appeared that the Rd'dyggian ship was one of only about ten ships at the port.

Edmund Swan shook his head and made his way to the main terminal so he could go through customs, find a directory and a cab that would take him to Timothy Gibbs’ residence.

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The next afternoon, John Mark Ellis sat on the command deck of the
Nicholas Sanson
watching as the work crews began departing the surface of the ship. Shuttles and launches that had brought provisions left for the planet below. Natalie Papadraxis sat at her station, coordinating with the shipyard crews, making sure none of the pods, shuttles or space suited workers collided. Ellis and Yermakov each consulted their displays and talked with each other in hushed tones. There were sufficient provisions aboard the ship for a three-year voyage. Captain and first mate alike hoped the voyage would take days rather than years—however, neither was certain what they would find when they got to Earth. Along with the engineering crew, Ellis and Yermakov ran simulations, checking the tuning of the four engines. At her station, Laura Peters plotted a course to Earth that would let them come into the solar system as discreetly as possible.

Kirsten Smart stepped onto the command deck from her office and placed her hand on Ellis’ shoulder. “Looks to me like we're almost ready to go. I never would have dreamed that we would be heading back out this quickly."

"The fact of the matter is we aren't ready to go back on a mapping expedition. We can jump from here to Earth like any other EQ-ship, but the engines are not fully calibrated for charting jumps. That's what was going to take the time,” said Ellis, bluntly.

As Ellis spoke, the lift doors at the back of the command deck opened and Fire, along with Manuel stepped out. “Do you mind if we watch as we leave orbit?” asked Fire. “It's not the greatest of views down in our quarters."

Ellis looked to Kirsten, whose features remained neutral. “I have no problem,” said Ellis, with a smile. “But don't get too used to special privileges, Mom."

"Incoming transmission from the planet,” announced Natalie. “Senator Herbert Firebrandt."

"Put him on holo,” ordered Ellis.

The forward portion of the command deck metamorphosed into Herbert Firebrandt's planet-side office. He stood next to his desk. It was evening; the setting sun could be seen through the Senator's windows. “I'm given to understand that the
Sanson
is preparing to depart for Earth. I wanted to check that you had everything you need and to wish you a successful voyage."

Ellis stood and stepped into the hologram. To Firebrandt, it would have looked as though the captain had materialized in his office. “Thank you, sir. The ship is provisioned and repairs are complete. TransGalactic will certainly request some calibration and simulation time in the ship yard upon our return.” Ellis’ statement was calculated less to request time than to convey to the bridge crew his certainty that the ship would be back soon.

Firebrandt nodded approvingly and understood the impression that the captain wanted to convey. “Very good. Likewise, I hope we'll have some time to talk on your return. I'd like to learn more about my distant relatives.” Firebrandt's image stepped close to Ellis. “Godspeed Captain Ellis.” The Senator looked out to the command deck. “Godspeed to all of you and good luck."

"Thank you, Senator,” said Ellis, stepping out of the simulated office before it turned into a view of the planet below. A miniature image of the
Sanson
hung over the planet. A yellow line extended from its bow to a distant point in space—the jump point Laura Peters had calculated to Earth.

"Orbital control reports we are clear to depart,” reported Natalie. “All service vessels are clear."

"Take us home,” ordered Ellis.

Laura Peters pushed several simulated buttons and then gave a signal to Simon Yermakov. Yermakov wiped sweat from his brow, then pushed a lever forward on his console. “Thrusters responding normally,” he reported. “Proceeding to jump point at one-quarter speed, Skipper."

Ellis clasped his hands behind his back and stepped toward the rear of the command deck to stand with Kirsten, Manuel, and Fire. “Natalie, would you please give us the bow camera?"

"My pleasure,” said Natalie and the view changed to an image of the planet rolling away below the ship. The stars ahead seemed fixed as though one were standing on the planet looking up at an unusually clear night sky. Manuel caught his breath, having never seen this view of a ship departing orbit. Fire took his hand and squeezed it.

Ellis grinned, then moved in front of them, sat down in the command chair, and prepared the EQ engines for the imminent jump. “Please overlay the course projection on the standard view,” asked Ellis.

Again, Natalie complied and a broad, dotted yellow line shot out in the holographic display to a flashing point in space. While the distant stars appeared to remain fixed, it was clear that they were moving along the yellow line.

"Follow the yellow brick road,” quipped Fire.

"Lions and Tigers and Clusters, oh my,” replied Kirsten with a slight giggle.

Ellis and Manuel each shot a glance at the women. Kirsten only shrugged while Fire smiled and shook her head.

"Approaching jump point, sir,” reported Laura as Simon began slowing the ship. Laura Peters double checked her jump trajectory and nodded to the captain. “We're ready to jump on your command."

Simon sounded the jump warning and Ellis looked at Manuel, Fire, and Kirsten. “Time to get to your positions. Next stop, Earth,” said Ellis. Kirsten passed his chair and gave his shoulder a slight squeeze, then departed into her office. Fire and Manuel each nodded to the captain and entered the lift.

After a few moments, Natalie looked around. “All decks report ready for jump to Earth. The lift tubes are all clear."

Ellis looked at Yermakov, who was sweating profusely but otherwise appeared calm, then looked to the front of the command deck. “Okay, let's get moving. Ms. Peters—Jump!"

With that, Laura Peters entered a command and the
Nicholas Sanson
jumped out of three-dimensional reality, en route to Earth.

Edmund Swan breezed through customs and had no problem finding a public teleholo where he called Timothy Gibbs. His friend appeared, looking more relaxed than the last time Swan had seen him. “How are you doing?” asked Swan.

Gibbs smiled. “Surprisingly well ... though things have been happening ... things that are hard to explain."

"Tim, I'm on Earth,” explained Swan. “I'd like to come by and see you."

"What a pleasant surprise,” said Gibbs. He gave directions to his apartment.

Swan turned off the teleholo with an uneasy sense that something was not quite right. As he stepped out of the teleholo booth, he looked around at the pristine, clean spaceport. When he had left Earth, the port was grungy and dirty. People packed the place from wall to wall. As a cop in Southern Arizona, he was all too aware that many of those people had actually lived in the spaceport. In the aftermath of Doomsday, Swan had expected to see an Earth that was even worse than the one he left. Instead, he was surprised to find one that was clean and pleasant. It gave him the creeps.

Stepping out of the spaceport, Swan easily found a hovercab and gave the driver directions to Gibbs’ apartment. Looking out of the window, Swan saw the city he had grown up in. As he looked around, he saw that much of the route they traveled was, indeed, clean and pristine as the spaceport had been. However, he used his computer eye to take snapshots up side streets and back alleys. Most were as dirty as he remembered, though in one he saw a crew of people literally scrubbing the brickwork of a building. Ahead of the cab, Swan caught sight of a plume of smoke. As they passed, he took a snapshot with his eye. As his brain processed the image, his stomach almost emptied in the back of the cab.

Bodies were stacked up like cordwood, in the middle of a dirty street. A group of police officers were gathered around with flame-throwers, igniting the pyre. The image was slightly blurred from movement, but he thought he could make out his former boss, Sheriff Wilmot, in charge of the gathered group. Swan closed his eyes, trying to shut out the image. Finally, he remembered the command to wipe the image from his eye.

The hover cab settled to the ground in front of Timothy Gibbs’ apartment building. Swan entered a credit code and stepped out. He noticed that the cleanup of the apartment complex had begun, though it wasn't complete. Several sections of wall had been scrubbed clean, but others still showed graffiti and gang tags that Swan recognized. Once cleaned up, the apartment complex would be a wonderful place to live, but it was apparent that it had been a haven of gang activity. That made very little sense to Edmund Swan, who remembered Timothy Gibbs as having the makings of a brilliant computer tech—someone who should be able to afford a higher-class apartment. However, Swan knew all too well that on a crowded Earth, competition for even the best jobs was extraordinarily fierce and even the best and the brightest were lucky to be employed at all.

Swan found Gibbs’ apartment and rang the buzzer. He was surprised when Gibbs simply opened the door without checking his identity on the video interface.

"Come in,” said Gibbs.

Swan stepped into the apartment. Like much of the city, it looked as though the apartment was going through something of a renovation. Clean dishes sat stacked on a chipped but scrubbed linoleum counter. The couch that Gibbs led Swan to was torn and tattered but the air smelled of disinfectant.

"Can I get you some coffee?” asked Gibbs.

Swan nodded. “I was worried after our teleholo call was cut off the other day."

Gibbs poured the coffee and nodded. “I know. That was a rough day and the next day was even worse.” He stepped back toward the couch and handed Swan the cup. “Things have been moving so fast since then, though."

"Things?” Swan's brow furrowed.

"It's hard to explain.” Timothy Gibbs dropped into a chair opposite his friend. “After college I couldn't find a single job in computers. I'm sure it never helped that I wasn't ever very good with people. Still, I was good with computers. I finally found a job maintaining the computer interfaces in starliners. Unfortunately, that company folded, as did about three others I worked for. Most recently I was working for a little teleholo store."

Swan shook his head. “That's a waste of resources, my friend. You should have been working on the most cutting-edge technology.” He pointed to his computer eye.

Gibbs nodded slowly. “That's what's strange. I am now. I finally found someone that appreciates my talent and it's paradise."

"Who?” asked Swan, leaning forward, placing his coffee cup on the table in front of him.

"The Cluster. They want me to build a legacy.” Gibbs sat back in the chair, heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes. “Sorry to leave you, my friend, but it's time to get back to work. Make yourself at home. I'll be back before long.” With that Gibbs’ features went slack.

Swan jumped off the couch and checked his friend's pulse. Relieved that it was still there, he examined his friend with his computer eye. He was alive and healthy. Everything seemed to indicate that he was simply asleep—everything except his brainwave patterns. Swan was used to looking at brainwave patterns during interrogations. However, he had never seen any so active as those in this apparently sleeping man.

The
Nicholas Sanson
jumped into Earth's solar system near Mars. Laura Peters eased the ship around the red planet and took it on a leisurely arc toward the Earth itself. Now that they were in the solar system, Natalie Papadraxis was able to pick up transmissions from Earth.

"Any indication that the Cluster has seen us enter the solar system?” asked Ellis, sitting on the edge of his chair.

"If they've noticed us, they're not saying or doing anything about it,” said Natalie.

"Do you want me to perform a pre-orbital scan?” Laura Peters looked over her shoulder at Ellis. “It could alert the Clusters to our presence."

Ellis nodded. “I suspect they know we're here already.” His words were measured. “Most likely, they either want us to come to Earth or they don't care."

Laura nodded and began the scan. Natalie chewed on her nails as she monitored news reports on her brain implant. Simon Yermakov wiped more sweat from his brow then stood and walked over to Natalie's station. “How does it sound?” he asked.

Natalie turned and seemed to look through Simon. “It sounds normal ... and frightening."

"Sir,” said Laura, breaking in. “I'm detecting three of the Clusters in orbit around the Earth."

"There're at least four of them.” Simon looked at Ellis. “We don't know how many in all. But at least one of them isn't here."

Ellis nodded slowly, digesting the information. Kirsten Smart stepped from her office, looking a little pale—suffering the after effects of the jump to Earth orbit. The captain stood and smiled bravely at her, then turned his attention back to Natalie. “Can you show us a couple of the news broadcasts?"

Natalie nodded and the holographic view changed to a newscaster sitting behind a desk somewhere on Earth. The newscaster reported that the number of “Doomsday Dead” was leveling off. A set of graphs popped onto the display, as though they were orbiting the newscaster's head.