The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Don’t make this worse, Galyan. Just tell me.”

  “He made a mistake, sir.”

  Maddox could feel emotions in him trying to break free. Through force of will, he held himself in check. “How big of a mistake?” he whispered.

  “Ludendorff is not sure,” Galyan said. “The professor seems confused. In fact, after speaking a few words, the professor started uttering gibberish. If I were to render an opinion…”

  “By all means,” Maddox said.

  “I think his great learning has driven him mad, sir. I do not think his mind can contain all the data the Builder nexus shoved into it. He is walking against bulkheads as he talks gibberish to himself. Ludendorff is badly off, sir.”

  Maddox slid off his chair as he stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said loudly.

  Valerie whirled around in her seat. “Where are you going?”

  Maddox refrained from reprimanding her. Instead, he gave her a calm look. “I need to use the head, Lieutenant. I shall be right back.”

  “Oh,” Valerie said.

  “You have command until then,” Maddox said.

  -74-

  Maddox didn’t feel pity for the Methuselah Man, but he was worried.

  Ludendorff was lying in a corridor, facing a bulkhead. He spoke gibberish as Galyan had described. Maddox supposed some might call it speaking in tongues. Yet, according to what he’d read in the Good Book, others had been able to interpret what those speaking in tongues had said.

  “Galyan,” Maddox said.

  The holoimage appeared beside him.

  “Scan the passage in Acts in the New Testament where the apostles first spoke in tongues.”

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “What version would you like, sir?”

  “A contemporary one,” Maddox said.

  “I have it.”

  “In the passage, do others understand those speaking in tongues?”

  “Are you referring to the Day of Pentecost, sir?”

  “Right,” Maddox said. “That’s what it’s called. Thank you.”

  “Yes. The apostles spoke in a variety of languages. Some watchers claimed they were drunk, though.”

  “Drunk and likely speaking gibberish,” Maddox said.

  “I see your connection, sir. You are referencing this to Professor Ludendorff. But I am not sure I understand. You are not likening his condition to those in Acts?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of saying Ludendorff is filled with the Holy Spirit,” Maddox said. “My point is quite otherwise. Some of the people during Pentecost claimed those speaking in other tongues were drunk. Maybe Ludendorff isn’t speaking gibberish but a Builder language he learned while in the nexus.”

  “An interesting theory, sir,” Galyan said.

  “Record the professor’s words. Maybe later it will help us understand the Builders. Or maybe it will jog something in the professor’s memories later hearing what he said now.”

  “What about this moment, sir? The professor is in a bad way.”

  “Now—” Maddox said, approaching Ludendorff. He bent down, grabbed the professor and hoisted him up and onto his left shoulder so the old man lay like a sack of wheat.

  Maddox headed for the professor’s quarters. “Maybe the hyper-spatial journey was too much for Ludendorff’s already overtaxed mind,” he said. “Maybe this is how a mind bleeds off Builder-induced stress.”

  “Or the professor has gone insane,” Galyan suggested.

  Maddox didn’t want to believe that. They needed Ludendorff. But if the Methuselah Man had become insane—the captain hurried as Galyan floated beside him.

  “I have been wondering, sir,” Galyan said. “What happens to us if there is no nearby nexus?”

  Maddox shook his head. “There has to be one. Ludendorff couldn’t have been that wrong. I want you to begin scanning for a local nexus.”

  “I have been while we have been speaking, sir. Unfortunately, the nebula’s interstellar debris is much too thick to make that an easy task.”

  Maddox turned a corner and redoubled his speed. Galyan floated faster to keep up.

  “Might I make a suggestion, sir?” Galyan asked.

  “Please.”

  “Why not push the Builder stone against the professor? That should reconnect his mind to the enhancer and give him the extra brainpower to…to sort out these language problems.”

  Maddox halted, turned and peered at the alien holoimage. “That’s an excellent idea, and it’s fast, too. Good thinking, Galyan.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the holoimage said, standing a little straighter. “I try to help when I can. I hope my suggestion works.”

  “Agreed,” Maddox said. And with that, he broke into a trot. The sooner they found the nexus, if it was out here—he started sprinting, holding onto Ludendorff so the old man didn’t slid off his shoulder.

  ***

  Ludendorff was lost inside his brain. He tried to shout for help. He tried to walk. But nothing seemed to work right. The overload had happened when the starship entered the whirlpool. Something about the awful process of ripping through the hyper-spatial tube had mixed his mind so he tasted sounds, heard sights and saw flavors. Everything had become mixed up in his mind.

  The professor had not been able to afford that with all the compressed Builder thoughts and data in his mind. The stress had opened channels that should have remained sealed. Now—

  Ludendorff bolted upright as he roared at the top of his lungs. It was as if a bright light had struck him as he popped out of a dark cave. To follow the metaphor, the blinding light made his eyes water—in this case, it made his mind throb with pain.

  In that moment, Ludendorff realized that he clutched the Builder stone. It was hot and had begun to sear his palms. The addition of the brain enhancer helped him sort the millions and billions pieces of data that had all unloaded at once in his mind. He understood that he was blind and knew nothing.

  He roared again, and he tried to shake the stone from his hands. It was like a man blinded by light throwing his arms over his eyes so it wouldn’t hurt so much.

  Once more, the professor shouted, and this time, he spewed profanities.

  “Stop, make it stop!” Ludendorff shouted.

  That was what Maddox had been waiting for: to understand the Methuselah Man’s words. The captain aimed the nozzle and let the foam gush against the white polygonal stone.

  At that point, Ludendorff heaved the thing from him so it smashed against the deck. He was bathed in sweat and he felt horrible, but he blinked several times before opening his eyes.

  “Captain,” the professor said in a hoarse voice.

  “You’re back,” Maddox said.

  Ludendorff frowned.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Maddox said. “You should rest. Yes. Eat and drink something and then get to sleep.”

  “Is something wrong?” Ludendorff asked.

  Maddox shook his head.

  Ludendorff yawned, stretched and looked as if he’d fall asleep that moment.

  A medical technician handed the professor a protein bar and a large container of water.

  Ludendorff ate the bar mechanically, chewing, drinking water and yawning between each bite.

  “I’m exhausted,” the professor said. Finally, he couldn’t stay awake as he turned his head and fell asleep.

  “I thought you were going to tell him,” Galyan said.

  “Not yet,” Maddox said. “He looks too horrible.”

  “You were merciful to him,” Galyan said.

  Maddox shrugged as he turned to go. “Tell me when he wakes up,” he told the medical tech.

  “He needs plenty of rest,” the woman said. “He’s been through too much, and he’s old. He’s going to need more recuperative time than you or I would need.”

  Maddox understood. They needed Ludendorff, but they shouldn’t overtax him or the fellow might die on the spot.

  Maddox and Galyan exited the chamber and headed for the bridge. Befor
e they made it, a comm buzzed in the captain’s jacket pocket.

  He fished out the comm and clicked it on. Valerie appeared on the tiny screen.

  “There’s bad trouble, sir,” she said.

  “You found a destroyed nexus?” Maddox asked.

  “What? No. That’s not it, but it might be just as bad. We’ve run into the back of a Swarm fleet.” On the tiny screen, Valerie turned to the side before facing Maddox again. “This is an early estimate. There could be more, but so far, we’ve counted one hundred and ten thousand Swarm motherships.”

  “Motherships?” asked Maddox, wanting clarification.

  “Motherships,” Valerie said, “heading deeper into the nebula. Now, I’m not a Methuselah Man, but I’m betting these Swarm are searching for the nexus. Once they find it, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn they’re on their way to Human Space.”

  “Is that why Ludendorff said this was the important nexus?” Galyan asked the captain.

  Maddox frowned at the holoimage. He almost whirled around to go and shake the professor awake and ask him just that. But that wouldn’t change the fact of 110,000 Swarm motherships heading deeper into the nebula, likely searching for the nexus just like they were doing.

  “I’m on my way,” Maddox said.

  “Good,” Valerie said. “Because people are starting to freak out up here. What are we going to do?”

  Maddox didn’t answer. Instead, he clicked off the comm and shoved it in a jacket pocket. Then, without another word, he headed for the bridge.

  -75-

  Maddox stood dumbfounded on the bridge as he saw the fantastic extent of the Swarm fleet.

  Valerie had proven inaccurate—incomplete—as to the count. Andros Crank had already numbered 143,000 Swarm motherships. That was approaching twice as many Swarm warships as had attacked Tau Ceti last time. In fact, it was more than twice the tonnage as had invaded Human Space then.

  These were 143,000 motherships. Each mothership dwarfed Victory, which was bigger than the largest Star Watch battleship.

  Surely, not all the motherships held attack-craft. Many would have heavy hull armor and heavy laser cannons. Swarm ships did not normally have electromagnetic shields. So that was something. The rest of the motherships would spew hundreds of deadly attack-craft each.

  The sight caused the captain’s gut to clench. If this was an invasion fleet, and if all the warships reached Human Space—then, it was over. Humanity would die. Possibly Spacers might survive, and maybe the New Men as well if they fled elsewhere soon enough. But normal people living normal lives in Human Space would become extinct.

  Not that Maddox considered himself normal, but he’d thrown in his lot with the normals and rather liked them as companions.

  The amazing thing was that none of the Swarm craft appeared to have spied Victory yet. The very gases and debris that had hidden the Swarm fleet from her sensors had also protected the starship from the bugs’ eyes.

  If the nexus was nearby, and the Swarm surrounded it, Maddox could forget about getting inside until their fleet left. By that time, it might not matter anymore, if the Swarm left by going directly into Human Space from here.

  The captain put his hands behind his back. He made sure to stand as tall as he could and to keep his shoulders squared and his head erect. He breathed deeply, practicing calm control.

  It almost felt to Maddox that he could feel the pressure of the 143,000 Swarm motherships, feel the pressure of the Deep Beyond trying to squeeze his soul into nothingness. Who was he but a mote of existence in a vast, cold and decidedly unfriendly universe? In the end, did it matter what he did? Humanity could not resist such mass. This was too much. How could they defeat the endless Swarm?

  Maddox blinked, and he clenched his jaw. This wasn’t about defeating the Swarm. This was about survival for another few years. Maybe that wasn’t as glorious, but it was a worthy goal.

  The captain cleared his throat. Deliberately, he turned around so the main screen was at his back. He scanned his bridge personnel. There was stout Andros Crank with his long white hair. There was Keith Maker sitting at Helm, trying to grin at him and failing. Valerie Noonan was pale-faced and likely trying not to tremble. Galyan waited by the command chair. The holoimage’s Adok eyes kept flashing to the Swarm motherships. Doctor Dana Rich had come onto the bridge. She was Indian by heritage, with radiant dark skin and long, jet-black hair. Dana seemed weary with too many lines in her face, but her dark eyes burned with curiosity. She would not quit, especially not as long as Ludendorff lived. Had the professor sent her up here? There were others, a comm operator, two marine security men and a weapons officer.

  Riker was staying with Ludendorff, ready to call the captain if anything untoward happened.

  “We know one thing,” Maddox told the bridge crew. “If a Swarm fleet is here, it must be looking or heading for the nexus.”

  “Do we really know that?” Dana asked. “Might there be Swarm colonies in the nebula that need a taste of Imperial Swarm discipline?”

  “You have a point,” Maddox said. “However, I doubt the Imperium would have sent this massive a fleet to do that. Until you can give me concrete evidence otherwise, I’m going to assume this is an invasion fleet.”

  Maddox faced Keith.

  “Figure out the fleet’s exact heading,” Maddox told the ace. “Then, figure out the fleet’s outer limit in that direction. I mean the limit of their scouting ships. We’re going to use the star drive to jump ahead of them. Then, we’re going to search like crazy for the nexus. If we have to make twenty jumps—”

  Galyan’s head jerked up.

  “What is it?” Maddox asked the holoimage.

  “Twenty star-drive jumps should take us out of the Omega Nebula,” Galyan said.

  “Good point,” Maddox said. “The nexus has to be close, very close maybe. We need to find it first, people. And we need a greater margin of time. If we can get there first and soon enough—”

  Maddox raised his left hand, indicating the main screen behind him. “If we get there first and in time, that fleet won’t matter to us anymore. If we fail to destroy the nexus in time, though, kiss good-bye everyone you know. There is no trying hard and failing and calling it a valiant effort. There is only winning and losing, and on this ship, I only accept winners.”

  It might have seemed surprising, but the others visibly derived strength from his calmness and hard-nosed attitude. In a situation like this, they wanted a stern taskmaster. They obviously liked the idea of a winning attitude driving them.

  “Questions?” asked Maddox.

  No one had any, not even Doctor Dana Rich or Galyan.

  “Then let’s get ready for the first star-drive jump,” the captain said. “The Swarm may have more ships, but we’re the better vessel, and we’re going to prove that today by beating them to the punch.”

  -76-

  More than five thousand light-years away in the Orion Spiral Arm on the alien Red Planet, Mako floated soundlessly through a subterranean corridor of stone.

  She no longer noticed the endless thrum and drum of the Great Machine around her. It almost seemed as if she’d lived here a lifetime. That might have something to do with her last times inside the Educator. Subjectively, she’d been through thousands more hours of special training.

  The Visionary had ordered the Educator brought down to the planet. Each time Mako exited the teaching device, the world and especially the people seemed so much duller than before. They thought so slowly. And they thought upon such mundane matters and took eons to arrive at the most obvious conclusions.

  In a word, several words, actually, the others here were deathly boring companions.

  Mako had come to despise boring. Her mind soared with concepts too grand for ordinary mortals to comprehend. Yes. She understood so much better how the Visionary had attempted to guide her growth for this important moment of time. Without the multi-mind entity, though, the Visionary couldn’t have attempted her training, as it
would have been impossible. The multi-mind entity had necessitated the Meditation Machines. The genesis for those machines had come from this world called the Forbidden Planet in Spacer lore.

  As Mako floated through the subterranean corridor, she wondered yet again why the Visionary wouldn’t allow her to speak with the Old One. Surely, that ancient alien could tell her interesting concepts and marvels that might unlock even more jewels of wisdom in her.

  Several times now, Mako had almost broken the rule and gone to find the Old One in order to converse with him. A last…stricture from her earliest upbringing had held her back. Had the Visionary known that would be the case?

  Mako nodded. Obviously, the old woman believed that. How else would the Visionary ever have dared to make her—Mako—so wondrously awesome? And yet, the Visionary, all the Spacers, for that matter, needed her wonderfulness for the next stage in evolution to take place.

  That was why Mako floated down the stone corridor. She had become impatient. No. She would not go and visit the Old One. That was against regulations. She could if she really wanted to. But she also knew a theorem from the school of hard-knocks concerning these sorts of things. A small or weak being becoming a bigger or greater being often took unnecessary initial risks because of arrogance and ignorance. Mako called this the Theorem of ’Ances.

  She wasn’t going to make those terrible and elementary mistakes. She loathed mistakes and missteps, and—

  Mako’s head jerked up, and a single word flashed in her mind: Maddox.

  She was going to teach that vainglorious, pompous half-breed of a human a thing or three. Wasn’t he going to be surprised upon meeting her again? He’d had the gall to leave her behind in the Usan System. She still couldn’t believe it. She’d had to go through such lengthy training to do it this way, when all of that could have been bypassed if Captain Maddox had just picked her up when he was supposed to.

  Why didn’t you pick me up, hmm…?

  Abruptly, Mako halted her flight and floated down to the stone floor.

  She felt the thrum and drum vibration against her feet. By this point, it was a comforting sensation. Originally, she’d found it suffocating.