Children of the Old Star Read Online Free Page B

answer. John Mark Ellis took a deep breath and without thinking about it too much longer, lest he stop himself, he let the words fall out. “Admiral Strauss, I hereby resign my commission as an officer of the Confederation Space Fleet."
    The admiral closed her eyes for a second, then turned back to her terminal. “I expect your belongings off the Firebrandt in 24 hours."

WHERE NO ONE KNOWS YOUR NAME
    John Mark Ellis stood in a silent hallway outside admiralty headquarters in the human pressure dome on Titan and thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. The silence should have given him time to think about how to contact the Cluster. Instead, he found himself wallowing in despair, simply wanting to escape. He cursed mildly as he felt around the pocket and realized he had crushed a cigar. He removed the damaged cigar and examined it. Scowling, he thrust it in his mouth and lit it anyway. Smoke issued from a myriad of cracks in the surface.
    He looked up just in time to see Frank Rubin stepping his way, waving a computer wafer. “Sir!” called Rubin excitedly. His booming voice echoed off the walls. “I just received a promotion!"
    "Congratulations,” grumbled Ellis. He bit down hard on the cigar, almost chopping off the end with his teeth.
    "Is something the matter, sir?” Concern showed in Rubin's wide blue eyes.
    "Calling me ‘sir’ isn't appropriate anymore, Mr. Rubin,” snorted Ellis. He looked down at his wrist chronometer and nodded. “I've got just about enough time to get to the space port and catch a flight to Earth. Would you be so kind as to send my duffel down to my home on Nantucket?"
    "Of course, but...” Rubin's mouth hung open as Ellis stormed off through the white corridor. The newly promoted A-Com bit his lower lip, feeling frozen in place. Finally he gathered his wits and ran to catch up with his former commander. When he almost caught up to Ellis, he saw him turn to enter the busy spaceport area. Ellis plowed a straight line through the crowd toward the ticket counter, smoke issuing hurly-burly from the crushed cigar like a fog bank surrounding his head. Rubin was nearly out of breath when he finally reached Ellis leaving the counter, ticket in hand.
    "Can you believe that,” grumbled Ellis around the forlorn cigar, waving the ticket in Rubin's face. “The only flight to Earth tonight is on one of those tramp freighters that doesn't even have graviton generators."
    "What's going on?” Rubin brushed the ticket away from his face.
    Ellis was still waving the ticket, unmindful of Rubin. “Have to ride all the way to Earth on some smelly ship that doesn't even have gravity.” He looked down at the ticket. “They don't even serve a goddamn meal!"
    "Sounds relaxing.” Rubin's voice dripped sarcasm. He looked into his former commander's eyes. “Sir, what's the matter? What happened in there with Admiral Strauss?"
    Ellis finally removed the cigar, his expression softening a bit toward Rubin. Again, he looked down at his wrist chronometer. “This flight, such as it is, doesn't leave for another hour. Let me buy you a drink and I'll tell you about it."
    Again, Rubin found himself following Ellis through the crowd. This time, however, the pace was less frantic. The two sat down at a gleaming silver bar. Ellis ordered scotch. Rubin declined a drink.
    By this time, Rubin had guessed what happened. At first, he had been frightened when Ellis had fainted as the Cluster attacked the Martha's Vineyard . Knowing the commander as well as he did, it simply seemed impossible. When Ellis had returned from the Vineyard , his suspicions had been confirmed. The Cluster had communicated with him a second time. “I don't get it, why wouldn't they confirm your promotion to captain? What about the Cluster? What about Sufiro?"
    The drink arrived and Ellis downed it in one shot and ordered another. “They say Sufiro was an accident. They say I couldn't have handled the crisis without my grandfather's