She could not see, hear, smell, taste or feel anything other than herself as she floated in the sluggish liquid. Like Shu 15 years ago, Mako had been surgically blinded in order for her to more fully integrate with her modifications. She could see, after a fashion, when she wore the customary Spacer goggles. In any case, the deprivation in here was the point. Her body—her gross physicality—no longer bound her thoughts or emotions. She was thus free to cast her mental energies into the Cy-computer, Harmonious Benevolence. Together, they projected their combined thoughts through the Usan III crystals, speeding up and using yet more radiant energy.
The first ten hours in the casket had been to purge herself. The second ten she had balanced her mind. The last thirty-three hours had been a grueling effort to build up the needed processes to commit the great and wonderful act.
Mako’s body floated in the sensory deprivation casket. Her mind—her thoughts and consciousness, in reality—left the Scarlet Tulip in what the Spacers termed an astral journey.
In a momentary flash of awareness, she saw all twelve Spacer vessels in high orbit of Usan I. She could feel the pulsating thoughts of Maddox and his people in the three vessels one hundred and twenty-seven million kilometers away. She sensed the living souls on Usan III.
But she did not have time for any of them. She had a more important objective. She had done this only twice before in her life, only once successfully. It was why she was Mako 21 instead of Mako 20.
Her consciousness zoomed beyond the Usan System. She saw comets, asteroids, planets and stars. They were hard matter, and in her new astral state, did not count for much. There were rivers of something, undercurrents in the universe that coursed with strange eddies. Among them was a darkness, a thing emanating from far away. Mako avoided that, as the dark wriggly thing pulsated with hateful energy.
There! Mako sensed a wonderful being of translucent light far ahead. She sped in that direction, questing across the cosmos with her amplified mind. She did not see, hear, feel, smell or taste anything during this journey. She sensed, in a mental or astral manner, awed at the beauty in the stellar distance.
She increased speed, using the RE supplied by the other vessels in her flotilla. She soared. She roared at incandescent speeds, an astral beam of light.
Then: Contact!
In the sensory deprivation casket aboard the Scarlet Tulip, Mako stirred, and she smiled.
Her consciousness had connected with another Spacer who was also in a dark casket aboard a similar saucer-shaped ship powered by others in its flotilla. That one had already connected to three other Spacers scattered several hundred light-years in various directions. The other connected Spacers were using other Meditation Machines to achieve this spectacular feat, meeting at a point equidistant from one another.
The five, which now included Mako, had gained union. They needed just one more to bring a multi-mind consciousness-entity into existence.
That one joined several minutes later. It was the new Visionary of the Spacers, their new leader since the old Visionary had perished in the Ska’s Destroyer during the expansion of the Alpha Centauri “A” star.
With the new Visionary’s joining, the six wrapped their thoughts around each other. They knew supreme closeness that brought sublime unity. It was glorious and loving, fulfilling and intimately belonging to a singular group of likeminded beings.
In the casket aboard the Scarlet Tulip in the Usan System, Mako 21 murmured softly, feeling wonderful and complete. She had union with others like herself, and with the di-far of di-fars—the Great One, the new Visionary—who could see into the future.
Then an odd event occurred, at least, it seemed off to Mako. An eddy from the undercurrents of the universe detached from the dark thing she’d tried to avoid before. It joined them, but it did so softly. Even so, Mako felt a jolt she did not like.
“It does not matter,” the Visionary said. “It is a pulse of energy I use at times to aid in my visions.”
That was disturbing news to Mako. She was certain the pulse from the dark thing was bad, not helpful energy.
Then, the multi-mind consciousness-entity began to examine Mako’s progress. She forgot about the dark thing with its dreamy quality. Mako was with the others as they judged her. She had failed to capture and hold Captain Maddox on Usan III. Before starting out on her mission, Mako had been so certain that she could achieve such a feat.
The Visionary, who was in charge of the multi-mind consciousness-entity, now showed Mako the predictions regarding said event. That caused the dreamy dark thing to perk up, radiating something…
Mako tried to understand the dark radiating thought—yes, it was a thought from—
This was bewildering, not the dark thing, no, what the Visionary was telling her.
“You knew I would fail to hold the captain?” Mako asked.
“There was only a slight probability you could hold him for long,” the Visionary said.
“But why did you…?” Mako let her question fade away before she could finish it.
“The wheels of fate are turning,” the Visionary said through the multi-mind consciousness-entity, the joining of some of the strongest minds in the Spacer Nation. “Methuselah Man Strand has become a tool. He has tried to twist in the hand of his user, but he fashioned the New Men too well. They have bottled him and drained his brain of its greatest secret.”
“How…?” Mako spoke the single word before also letting that question fade.
“Poor dear,” the Visionary said. “You strive so hard but you fail so often. In reality, I foresaw your last two failures. New Men in their improved star cruisers ambushed and captured the Sulla 7. They stole the prize you had worked so hard to fill with Usan crystals and varth elixir, the prize you fought for and sacrificed ships so it could escape from Captain Maddox.”
“You knew star cruisers would lie in wait for the Sulla 7?” Mako asked in amazement.
“Your questions hold a barb for me,” the Visionary said. “If I knew about the star cruisers, why did I allow the Sulla 7 to travel its projected route? Ah, Mako, if only it were that simple.”
“Please, teach me,” Mako said. “I would like to know. I have failed twice in quick succession. The failures burn in me.”
“In reality, you have failed three times in quick succession,” the Visionary said.
The words hurt, but Mako held her tongue, waiting for enlightenment.
“That is the first lesson,” the Visionary said. “Learning when to wait. Learning when to stop speaking. But you want more, do you not?”
“I want to grow,” Mako said. “I would be like you, if it were possible.”
The other four murmured, their sounds praising Mako.
“You are strong for one so young,” the Visionary said. “You seek to grasp the great rung, even though your latest exploits led to bitter failure.”
“Teach me to do better,” Mako pleaded.
“You do not yet truly understand,” the Visionary said. “What does ‘better’ mean? Are your failures bad?”
“I don’t understand. Help me to know what you mean.”
“Mako, Mako, Mako,” the Visionary said. “Knowing is a precise word, a hard and definite word. I am the Seer, the one who looks into the darkness.”
The words jolted Mako once again. Could the Visionary be referring to the dark thing that had joined them?
“That darkness is the future that unfolds in strange and often contradictory ways,” the Visionary said. “What I saw with the Sulla 7… Let me see if I can explain. I perceive many but not all strands of possibilities. I assign the possibilities I see a probability number as I travel down many ifs and might-bes. Some are good. Most are evil. But some of the evil ones lead to glorious possibilities that stagger my imagination. Oh, listen, little one, the antimatter explosions from the battle around Usan III irradiated the crystals and varth elixir aboard the Sulla 7. You did not know it, but the cargo was contaminated. That was your third failure.”
>
“What? But I made certain that—”
“Do not interrupt me, little one. That is the second great lesson you must take to heart.”
The rebuke stung to such a degree that Mako felt herself parting the slightest bit from the multi-mind consciousness. The even slight loss of union was awful. The love of the others tearing away from her hurt.
“I am ashamed,” Mako said. “I am irredeemably flawed.”
“That is not true,” the Visionary said. “Come, rejoin us, Mako. Be one with us again.”
The other four hummed with encouragement, while the dark strand seemed to watch her intently.
Despite the undercurrent with them, Mako found the strength of heart to rejoin them. It felt so good to belong again.
“Now listen, Mako, and do not interrupt me. I am going to tell you hard truths. If you would be even a little like me, you must accept these bitter dregs in order that you might grow.”
Mako almost told the Visionary that she would listen. At the last second, she held her thoughts in abeyance.
“Oh, good, that is good,” the Visionary said. “Now, it is certainly true that you are deeply flawed. That does not make you useless, just that you haven’t yet learned the truly deep lessons. In these last instances, I was able to turn your flaws so they furthered the Great Plan. I knew Captain Maddox would defeat you and I foresaw the strange transformation of the Usan III crystals as the antimatter radiation struck them. The New Men captured the Sulla 7. But they will only find misery in using the crystals. The varth elixir is another matter. They can still use it despite the radiation. By the time they understand why the crystals harm them, though, certain future ventures of theirs will have failed. Because of your flaws combined with my foresight, we have hammered yet another nail into the New Man coffin. In time, the horrible New Men will no longer sully our future paths as their Throne World lies in smoldering ruins. You aided in that.”
“You wanted me to fail?” Mako asked in bewilderment.
“It wasn’t a matter of wanting. It was a matter of using the most likely probabilities in the best combination I could find.”
“The lost Sulla 7 will cause that much harm to the New Men?”
“Mako, I will accept failures from you, but I detest any slow-witted questions. Continue on such a course, and you will risk dropping from 21 to 20 or maybe even to 19. If that were to happen, you would lose some of your dearest modifications.”
Mako’s boosted consciousness shivered in horror at the threat. That horror sharpened her senses, however, as she struggled to maintain her wits.
“Forget about the New Men and the cargo,” the Visionary said. “The capture happened for a reason that you will learn soon enough.”
“I…I didn’t realize.”
“Of course you didn’t,” the Visionary said. “That was why you were the perfect tool, Mako.”
Tool? She was a tool? In the casket aboard the Scarlet Tulip, Mako frowned within the darkness and utter solitude.
“Am I only useful as a failure?” Mako asked.
“You are useful when you are useful,” the Visionary said. “Is that not enough?”
Mako sensed the other parts of the multi-mind consciousness-entity turning against her, as they seemed to pull away. That caused the dark undercurrent to express emotion, evil laughter. She quailed at its and their hostility, made a thousand times worse because she had felt the glorious love and unity of the multi-mind only seconds before. She had been lifted up to this great Spacer mystery only a year and a half ago. She did not want to lose this glorious privilege. Nothing in normal life was like soaring among the stars and joining her sisters in astral union.
“I am useful,” Mako said, striving to radiate love and willingness, as a good Spacer should.
“You do not fool us,” the Visionary said. “You are upset and you seek to deceive. That is wrong. You are flawed. So far, you achieved the needed results by failing each time. Do not add lies to your other flaws.”
At that point, Mako caught a tiny glimpse of what awaited her. It was paralyzing and horrifying, and she realized the future paths were partly fueled by the dark undercurrent.
“Stop peeking into my mind,” the Visionary said.
Mako wanted to stop, but she could not. The horror of her fate drove her to want to know more. All her life, she had striven to be a good Spacer. She had climbed the ladder of ambition, entering the sisterhood of bodily modifications. She had delved into the deep secrets, sensing more than seeing a glorious future for the unique Spacer Nation. Now…now this awaited her?
“I knew you would not be able to stop yourself,” the Visionary said. “It is your nature. You strive and struggle even when you know it isn’t good for you. That is your fate, Mako. Unless you can—”
“No!” Mako said, the horror of her future tearing words from her that she had hoped to keep quiet. She wanted to belong—but this. “You mean to destroy my mind and personality. You mean to enslave us to an alien monster of inhuman desires. How is this good for the Spacer Nation?”
“You spoke too soon,” the Visionary said. “You saw one possibility. There are others.”
“But—”
“Wait, Mako. Do not speak too soon again.”
Mako found it almost impossible, but she waited.
“The Methuselah Men think they are the chief wonder of the Builders for the Human Race,” the Visionary said. “But that is false. We are the prize creation of the Builders. We serve them, as others cannot conceive. The hard ones—the New Men—will corrupt the goodness given humanity by the Builders.”
“But the Swarm—”
“Do not name humanity’s doom, little one. It will only upset you. Sisters, are you ready? We must infuse Mako with resolve and purpose. She has looked into a future she cannot fathom because she has failed to understand the true nature of the Spacer Nation.”
“We are humans!” Mako cried.
The dark undercurrent that had joined the multi-mind entity pulsed with power. It seemed to darken the others, but it added power to the Visionary.
“We are the egg of the new Builders,” the Visionary said. “We search the cosmos for the right sperm that will generate something much greater and more glorious than mere Homo sapiens.”
“No,” Mako wept. “What I saw was awful. It waits for us.”
More dreamy power flowed into the dark undercurrent that had joined them. It was ancient and willful, and utterly domineering.
“Hurry, Sisters,” the Visionary cried. “This is the moment and the reason we have joined today. Teach Mako the lessons she so desperately seeks. Mold her into the Spacer that will alter the cosmos in our favor. This is a pregnant moment of true destiny. We have waited an eon for this moment. Finally, the fates and possibilities have rushed together. If we are strong enough, if we are resolute enough, we can turn Mako into the egg of Tomorrow.”
“No!” Mako screamed. “Please don’t do this to me. I’m human. I want to remain human. I want to be a Spacer—”
The others struck, buoyed up by the Visionary’s words and powered by the ancient thing with an adamant and inhuman will. They molded Mako’s naked consciousness in ways that would never have been possible otherwise. She was a waif in their dark-powered consciousness. The process was heartless and savage. It was stunning, almost poetic in a way.
The Sisters of Meditation used the dark rawness of the undercurrents of the universe to add to, and take away from, the personality of her once known as Mako 21. The Visionary guided them, as her dark visions of many futures drove her to this consummating act. Like a madwoman with a meat cleaver, she hacked out this and ripped out that. It was brutal, and it left Mako gasping like a prey animal gripped by wild beasts.
Then, with Mako a raw wound before them in the stars—and with the dark thing driving them without their knowledge, the five rebuilt the little one at the Visionary’s beckoning. The guiding star of the Spacer Nation shoved this and that into the new budding personal
ity. The little one would still be known as Mako 21, but she was becoming a thing to behold, a fury with willpower and toxic might, a woman with extra consciousness to complete a deed no ordinary human could even conceive, let alone bring to fruition.
“Now,” the Visionary whispered to her Sisters of mayhem and wild fate, to the making of a new one to lead the Spacer Nation to heights never foreseen by mortal man.
The one called Mako 21 shrieked and could not stop herself as she tore her consciousness from the others and from the dark will that originated somewhere in the Sagittarius Spiral Arm. Mako ripped herself from the Cy-computer, Harmonious Benevolence, aboard the Scarlet Tulip.
That upset many delicate balances. The continued RE flowing from the other saucer ships built up too fast in the Cy-computer. It was Harmonious Benevolence’s task to channel the RE into the right places. The Cy-computer had fed Mako the RE in order to project her astral consciousness through the cosmos. Mako had torn herself from that in an instant. That meant the incoming RE had nowhere to go. Like a mountain avalanche that blocks a stream, Mako’s abrupt tearing-free meant a rising buildup of RE. The bubbling, deepening radiant energy drove the cyborg brain tissues mad, which in turn closed valves and conduits in the computer parts, burning them out with sizzling power as the RE dissipated in awful surges.
The great Cy-computer burned out in an orgy of agony as the varth elixir bubbled into froth. That might have permanently brain-damaged Mako, but she slid out of the Wi-Fi connection just in time.
Even so, inside the sensory deprivation casket, Mako screamed. She thrashed and kicked wildly. Sensors detected her activity. Klaxons blared outside.
In less than a minute, two Spacer acolytes raised the lid, helping a weeping Mako from the sluggish liquid.
The new Mako could sense their stares, and she knew she was going to have to answer hard questions about the dead Cy-computer. Then it struck her, what she would do.
The changes to her consciousness now rearranged her physical brain. It made her wince, stiffen and begin to shake.
“Mako?” one of the acolytes said. “Hang on, Mako.”
Mako’s face had frozen into a hideous mask. Just as swiftly as the transformation occurred, it was over. Mako sighed and relaxed even as her facial muscles lost their rigidity.
The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9) Page 23