Heirs of the New Earth Read Free

hundred children or none at all.
    Not bothering to do anything with the plate and coffee cup after breakfast, Gibbs stripped out of sweaty underclothes and stepped into the sanitizer. Even with ice mining in the asteroid belt, water was a precious commodity in Southern Arizona. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the hypersonic waves tingling against his skin, removing dirt and sweat, leaving a kind of slime in the bottom of the sanitizer that the flies would enjoy. Stepping out, and wiping his feet on the mat, Gibbs dressed in his work uniform and went out the door pausing long enough to hear the door lock automatically behind him.
    Not able to afford his own hover-car, Timothy Gibbs walked the mile and a half to his job at Tanque Verde Teleholo. He was a repair technician, earning a small stipend and a commission on each of the expensive communication units he refurbished. In the thirtieth century, teleholos were considered virtually essential. With them, people communicated with one another, entertainment holograms were transmitted, games were played and finances were transacted. There was almost nothing in the way of entertainment or communication that couldn't be done with a teleholo.
    Poor as he was, there were many less fortunate than Timothy Gibbs. On his way to work, he stepped over an old man, sleeping on the sidewalk. Even the old man—too poor to afford a place to sleep with a roof over his head—clutched a portable teleholo to his chest.
    Stepping through the door of Tanque Verde Teleholo, Gibbs forced himself to smile and wave at one of the sales associates, Louise Sinclair. Sinclair gestured wildly for Gibbs to come see what was playing on one of the teleholos.
    "More news about the Cluster?” asked Gibbs with a weary sigh. Hovering above the teleholo dais was a familiar image—a large conglomeration of iridescent spheres. The Confederation of Homeworlds, of which Earth was a part, was fighting a one-sided war with the Cluster. Whenever the Cluster appeared, the ship it encountered was destroyed. No one knew of a single Cluster ship lost to a Homeworlds’ ship. “When are they going to stop bugging us with that?” he grumbled. “It's all so far away from Earth anyway."
    "This is different,” she said, tersely. “A mapping ship followed the Cluster home. They finally have some idea what it is.” Louise Sinclair had been following the Cluster story since day one and insisted on conveying everything she learned to her co-workers.
    "Whatever,” said Gibbs. He reached out as if to turn off the teleholo unit, but she batted his hand away.
    "Aren't you the least bit interested in the Cluster?” She cocked her head, examining the technician. “They've been destroying ships left and right. They even threatened a colony for God's sake."
    Gibbs shook his head. “Sufiro's on the other side of the galaxy. I can't waste my time worrying about things in space. I've got enough problems right here on Earth.” He shrugged mock apology then made his way to the employee lounge.
    Sinclair followed on his heels. “I can't believe what I'm hearing,” she said, incredulous. “In the thousand years humans have been in space, the Cluster is the first intelligent life we've ever discovered that's actually bent on destroying humans. How can you ignore that?"
    "It's not just humans,” he said as he poured coffee into a paper cup. “We're not in this alone. The Titans will figure out something. They always have before."
    "They haven't yet,” she retorted. “The only thing the Cluster hasn't destroyed is that colony—Sufiro. They survived their encounter with the Cluster."
    "Okay, so, now someone's figured out where the Cluster's from, is that it?” he asked, resigned to the fact that she wasn't going to leave him alone until after she'd given him her daily update.
    "They think it's from outside our galaxy. It's from a globular cluster.” She beamed proudly.
    "Seems a bit redundant, doesn't it?"
    "What's