The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9)

by Vaughn Heppner

  The more Mako pondered the ability of a Spacer multi-mind entity reading the future that she could then chart, the more that seemed like a supernatural thing. Surely, she didn’t believe that the multi-mind entity itself did the future reading. That implied far too much ability or power within the multi-mind entity.

  Mako decided that she must be having these thoughts because she was much more intelligent now than she used to be. At the same time, some innate caution kept her from using her Spacer modifications to search the nexus with her radar-like sight.

  She did not realize, and possibly never would, that the genesis for the accurate future visions came from this place. How had the Spacers stumbled onto the Forbidden Planet and uncovered the carefully hidden and slumbering Nay-Yog-Yezleth? How had the Spacers learned about the Great Machine when even the Builders had never suspected what lay inside the planet?

  The Old Ones—the Yog-Soths—had tremendous power of mind. That power meant an uncanny ability to think ahead, to play out millions upon millions of possibilities.

  The Yog-Soth “embryo” in the nexus was the result of an incredibly long chain of moves, countermoves and plans made thousands upon thousands of years ago. Instead of the Visionary pulling accurate future visions from the ether, she and other Spacers had tapped into the various Yog-Soths’ mental plans and mind-generated dreams—nightmares—that rebounded throughout the galaxy like ancient radio transmissions. The embryo in the nexus had added certain moves of his own into the grand scheme of the Yog-Soths and thus now into the Visionary-led Spacers.

  Most of the ancient Yog-Soths plans had failed eons ago. But this one yet remained. The stasis-frozen creature in the nexus—Ghar-Yog-Tog—had powers of mind unsuspected by even the Builders. His dreams had shaped and subtly altered Swarm Imperium plans, human plans, Spacer plans and lost Builder plans into a moment of awakened rebirth.

  Ghar-Yog-Tog needed to bend the little Spacer’s will another few degrees. She had become the egg indeed, the one who could give him the kiss of life anew, who had the modifications to run the eons-old technology hidden on this unique nexus.

  However, Mako 21 still possessed a sense of self-preservation. It was time to tickle her vanity with the greatest conceit for any thinking creature—to become a god.

  Mako flew through yet another corridor…and she grunted, as something oily seemed to reach out for her. Within her spacesuit, she grunted again and shook her body like a cat shaking off water, but the feeling remained.

  It dawned on her that she was wasting time flying around like this. Captain Maddox was near. She could feel him, and knew he’d often thwarted Spacer plans. And he’d left her behind in the life-pod, in the Usan System, uncaring whether she lived or died.

  “I’m here,” Mako told herself, smiling at the obviousness of the statement. She was here as the Spacer egg of possibility, and here she was, cruising around like a fool who might let the greatest possibility of the universe pass her by.

  She could become the new thing and skip thousands of years of evolution to turn into the most powerful being in the galaxy. All she had to do was find the machine, wake the embryo and steal the white polygonal Builder stone. Then, she could combine it all and create a being so powerful that she would jump into godhood, the ultimate human yearning.

  Mako wondered for a moment if that was true. Hadn’t many people fallen horribly because they’d reached for godhood, been wildly puffed up by pride and hubris and then taken a horrible fall into certain destruction?

  But I am the Spacer egg. I’m doing this as my destiny. This is the reason for the Spacers. I’m the chosen one. I cannot wilt when no one but me can take the next step in gigantic evolution.

  Mako rotated her thruster-pack and pressed a throttle-trigger, spraying white hydrogen mist. That slowed her velocity until she came to a stop in the middle of a huge, dark corridor.

  Her helmet scanned first one way and then a different way. She sensed the correct direction, and yet, she hesitated. Why should she hesitate? It made no sense. She had suffered so much for this opportunity. She’d even killed the meddlesome clone that had tried to take her place.

  “I won this right by killing the clone,” Mako told herself. “I need merely take the next-to-last step.”

  If she became this new thing, could she go back to Human Space and let others see what she had become?

  Why not? a voice asked in her mind.

  Mako’s smile grew. Why not indeed? She would go back to Human Space, and she might do more than just show herself. Perhaps she would rule the humans and guide them in superior ways. They would come to worship her, and she would make them into a powerful race, supreme in the galaxy.

  “Yes,” Mako said. “I accept.”

  At that instant, the oily sensation vanished, and Mako felt better than she’d ever felt in her life. She’d made the right decision and soon, everyone would know it.

  With a greater sense of purpose than ever, Mako reactivated the controls, accelerated and headed for a dangerous area of the nexus. No. That wasn’t right. She was heading for the most glorious part of the nexus there was. The ancient Builders had made it a fortress because it held the great—

  I am the egg, Mako thought to herself.

  The sperm, something said in her mind. I am the great sperm of possibility that will propel you into godhood.

  As Mako realized this, the excitement in her grew. She added more thrust and began zooming through the corridors. She made the turns with supreme confidence as the excitement grew unbearably. Why had she dallied so long wandering the corridors? It made no sense to her now.

  Finally, Mako slowed down until she reached huge sealed doors blocking the path. Through them awaited her apotheosis into a greater being of great power. Her helmet lamplight washed over bizarre symbols on the hatch. One of the symbols looked like a monster with tentacles. Other symbols radiated danger.

  Mako pondered that until an inner thought assured her of the silliness of fear at a time like this. She’d just journeyed over five thousand light-years. What could possibly be behind the sealed doors that could hurt her?

  Mako inhaled deeply through her nostrils and began to concentrate. A thought of warning kept her from searching past the sealed doors. She must save all her power to open the trick locks. Yes. Using her modified powers to look ahead was a waste of talent.

  A small part of her asked why it would hurt to look ahead. Surely, looking ahead was wise.

  A sneering laugh at such stupidity stilled the cautious feeling. She’d come across the gulfs of space to do mighty deeds and to show that cock’s crow Maddox a thing or three.

  “That’s right,” Mako said.

  She closed her eyes and concentrated her modified Spacer abilities. Then, working one interior lock at a time, she began to undo what a Builder had put in place two thousand, four hundred and ninety-one years ago. She had to do this exactly right or a process would start that would murder the sperm of possibilities inside the armored area.

  Finally, with a shove of technologically powered telekinesis, Mako caused the mighty doors to open. It was dark in there. For a moment, it seemed like stygian darkness, too much for Mako’s helmet-lamp to penetrate.

  Why do I need light anyway? I can see perfectly in the dark with my transduction.

  With a squeeze of the trigger-throttle, Mako released hydrogen spray, propelling herself deeper into the nexus.

  -91-

  Professor Ludendorff, along with the others, had reached the great cavern called the Linkage Chamber. Ludendorff admitted to himself that he was feeling trepidation about this, and he wasn’t completely sure why.

  “What is that cloud?” Maddox radioed.

  “The cloud, as you call it, is the substance that will allow me to link with the Builder stone without my having to touch it,” the professor said. “It will also allow me to disengage from the stone through an act of will.”

  “So, we’ve been using the object wrong all this time?” asked Ma
ddox.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Ludendorff said.

  “Should we fly into the substance?” Maddox asked.

  “On no account should you do so. I will go in alone. Oh, and I’ll need the stone now.”

  “Sergeant,” Maddox radioed.

  “Are you sure about this, sir?” Riker asked.

  “Not completely,” Maddox admitted. “But my sense of urgency has grown because something is tugging at me to slow down and take it easy.”

  “I feel the urgency in the pit of my stomach,” Meta said.

  “Agreed,” Riker said, sounding surprised. “I almost feel sick.”

  “This is curious,” Ludendorff said. “I have no physical symptoms, but I do feel…concern is probably the correct word.”

  “Wait a minute,” Maddox said. “Do you realize that we’re delaying by discussing this? Sergeant, give him the stone at once. Professor, are you ready?”

  Ludendorff didn’t answer, but watched as Riker shrugged off the pack that held the Builder stone. Riker gave the pack to Maddox and the captain held it out for the professor to take.

  But Ludendorff hesitated. Why was he delaying? He had no logical reason to hold back. It almost felt as if an outside source fed him growing concern so he—

  “That’s it,” Maddox said. “I’m going into the cloud with you, Professor. Otherwise, we’ll be here until Doomsday.”

  “I’ve already said I must go alone,” Ludendorff replied.

  “Yeah,” Maddox said. “You’ve told us a lot of things. I’m going with you. That’s final.”

  “And if that causes the linkage to fail?” asked Ludendorff.

  “Then, at least I’ll know that you tried.”

  Ludendorff stared at Maddox in his spacesuit. The captain could be far too stubborn at times. He knew the half-breed considered it as one of his strengths, but it simply wasn’t so. Well, there was no working around this.

  “Very well,” Ludendorff said. “But I will not be held responsible for the failure.”

  “Good luck, sir,” Riker said.

  Maddox nodded his helmet.

  “Be careful, husband,” Meta told him.

  “I will,” the captain said.

  “What about me?” Ludendorff complained. “Will no one wish me luck?”

  “Isn’t that emotionalism?” Riker asked.

  “Confound you, you oaf,” the professor said.

  “Good luck,” Meta told Ludendorff.

  “Thank you,” the Methuselah Man said stiffly.

  “Fine,” Riker said. “Luck to you, Professor.”

  “I don’t need luck,” Ludendorff said petulantly. “But I accept your sentiment.”

  “Enough,” Maddox said, as he piloted the two of them into the misty substance.

  ***

  Later, the captain unhooked the professor, gave him the Builder-stone pack and shoved him away. Maddox and the thruster pack moved back minimally while Ludendorff sailed off much faster.

  Ludendorff did not look back. The captain could take care of himself. The feeling of trepidation had grown, but he still did not exhibit any of the physical symptoms that the others had spoken about.

  Logically, what did that mean? Ludendorff refused to accept any intuitive sensations to guide him. He didn’t know what the growing fear meant. It was no longer a matter of mere concern. He was beginning to feel true fear. It was like the time Governor G.A. Stannous of Cygnet Carious IV had entombed him in a underground chamber for two and half years. The dread of the closing door had almost induced panic.

  It was a wonder he had remained sane. Two and a half years alone in the chamber had nearly driven him over the edge. Strand had saved him. Strand had slain the governor and the man’s extended family on both sides. His fellow Methuselah Man could be unbelievably brutal at times.

  “Don’t give them a chance to come back,” Strand had told him back then. “It’s always a mistake to trap someone and throw away the key. When I have the upper hand, I kill all of them, even the seed corn.”

  By seed corn, Strand had meant the children. Children grew up in time and often sought revenge. Strand wouldn’t give them the opportunity.

  As Ludendorff “swam” in the mist to slow himself, he wondered why he would think such a thing now. Did it mean anything?

  Ludendorff breathed deeply, holding it, wondering what was going on. There was a primordial sense to all this. He exhaled. Yes. Primordial fears, superstitions, atavistic sensations… The dark urges of man had crept to the forefront in this nexus.

  The professor shrugged off the tote bag and removed the white polygonal stone. With his mitted gloves, he gingerly set the ball in the substance so it floated before him as though weightless.

  Using his burned hands caused them to ache and throb, and it almost made him shy from mental contact with the stone.

  Ludendorff shook his head. He was not going to put it off any longer. Maddox was right. It had begun to feel as if the Old One worked against him. But he was the professor, driven by logical ideals more than primitive emotionalism.

  Calming himself, Ludendorff reached out with his thoughts and attempted to link with the stone.

  That was odd. Something blocked the connection with the stone. Maddox, the professor thought.

  Only…it didn’t feel like that. This felt dark and sinister, felt like a giant octopus swimming toward him in the depths of a murky sea.

  Ludendorff recalled the octopoid hieroglyphic of the Yon-Soths, the Old Ones out of time. This was something one of those would do, could do.

  Ludendorff focused his considerable intellect on the white polygonal stone. He thought of nothing else and refused to relent. When other thoughts popped up, he ignored them.

  A glimmer of connection radiated to him. That increased the professor’s ability to concentrate, and in seconds, he linked with the ancient Builder object as he had before. The process quickened further as Ludendorff’s mind opened up like a flower taken from deep shade and set in hot and glorious sunlight.

  Ah. That was much better. As the linkage opened the professor’s mind, he accessed the hieroglyphics about the Yon-Soths. He used the Builder stone to tap into the Omega Nebula nexus’s computer core.

  He found an ancient file, a corrupted file, no less.

  Ludendorff began searching for backup files on the Yon-Soths. Every one of them had been corrupted. That wasn’t mere coincidence. That was deliberate sabotage.

  There had to be— Ah. Yes. Here we go. Ludendorff’s expanded mind linked to an old and hidden file deep in the Omega Nebula nexus’s computer core.

  In those precious seconds, Ludendorff grunted as his mind absorbed the known story of the Yon-Soths. This was awful beyond belief. Why, Maddox had had more of the right of it than he’d had.

  The grunts became groans and Ludendorff began to perceive what was at stake here in the Omega Nebula nexus.

  With undue haste, Ludendorff linked to the nexus recording systems. He—

  The professor began to curse profoundly as he saw the beam of M-energy and watched it turning into a—

  “Spacer?” Ludendorff asked aloud. “A Spacer is in the nexus?”

  Blinking, realizing there was far too much he didn’t know, Ludendorff almost made the same error he had in the last nexus. He almost crammed his mind with zipped files of Builder data. Instead of doing that, he concentrated again, trying to decide what he needed to know to combat this terrible descent into one of the most hideous horrors of the Milky Way Galaxy.

  -92-

  Maddox had moved outside the radius of the misty cloud in the center of the giant Linkage Chamber. For a while, the cloud radiated with intense brightness and then became dark again. Then, regions of the cloud brightened like distant lightning. It was sudden, and there was no telling which area would light up next.

  The cloud and the lightning flashes in it vaguely reminded Maddox of something. He tried to place it, and with a start, he realized the cloud was like a giant brain.
The sudden light in areas was like neurons firing up, causing thought.

  Could the misty cloud be a disembodied Builder brain? No. That was preposterous. Maybe it acted like a brain, but it couldn’t be anything more than that. And yet, the more Maddox observed the brightening areas of the cloud, the more it struck the captain as firing neurons.

  Then, Ludendorff swam clumsily out of the cloud. “Maddox,” the professor said urgently over the helmet comm. “Maddox, can you hear me?”

  “I can now,” the captain replied.

  “This is a trap,” Ludendorff said. “No, no, that’s not right. We must hurry. A Spacer is wandering through the nexus. She’s no doubt planning to set Ghar-Yon-Tog the Great free.”

  “That’s the name of the Yon-Soth embryo?” Maddox asked.

  “Yes!” Ludendorff said. “And Ghar-Yon-Tog the Great is no embryo. That’s a, a, joke. It’s like calling a huge man Tiny. The Old One is massive and ancient, possibly the progenitor. I don’t understand half of this. I don’t understand why the Builders kept the most dangerous Yon-Soth in the galaxy on ice. But the Spacer plans to use the transfer portal.”

  “The what?” asked Maddox.

  “Hurry,” Ludendorff said. “Hook me to your suit and fire up your thruster pack. We have to stop the Spacer. We have to kill Ghar-Yon-Tog.”

  “No,” Maddox said. “We have to make a hyper-spatial tube and leave this star system while we can, making sure the nexus blows up behind us.”

  “There’s no time for that now.”

  “Wrong,” Maddox said. “Humanity comes first.”

  “Don’t you understand?” Ludendorff shouted.

  “No.”

  “I don’t have time to explain.”

  Maddox calmly drew a blaster, aiming it at the approaching professor. “Give me the Builder stone. I’m going into the cloud. I’m going to talk to the computer core and find out what’s going on for myself.”

  “We’ve run out of time,” Ludendorff said in a highly agitated state. “The Old Ones are making their last play. I don’t know how many of them are left—no!” Ludendorff said in horror as he clutched his helmet. “I’m finally beginning to understand. Yes! The Builder memories are becoming clearer in my mind. Oh, this is monstrous, monstrous. The Builders defeated the Old Ones, or they mopped up the last Yon-Soth strongholds eons ago. They must have captured Ghar-Yon-Tog, imprisoning him.”