There was no yellow outline in space. There were just endless nebula substances shifting in apparently random patterns.
“This is like flying by radar,” Keith said cheerfully. He meant using Victory’s special sensor data sent to his helm board. “To a great pilot, radar or sight makes no difference.”
“Luckily we have you, then,” Maddox said from his seat beside the ace.
“True, all too true,” Keith said, nodding.
The space-sleds were in the shuttle’s cargo bay. Meta was back there, along with Ludendorff and Sergeant Riker, to help the professor when and if the Methuselah Man needed it. A marine and a tech would remain in the shuttle with Keith.
Maddox pressed a switch on his screen for a backward camera glance at Victory. Gases and dust were already getting in the way. Maddox inhaled deeply as he realized this would probably be one of the last times he would ever see his starship. He felt a pang of loneliness squeeze his chest. They were in the Sagittarius Spiral Arm, alien space, Swarm territory. After all these years, he’d never found his father. He would have liked to accomplish that, but he’d met his true love and gotten to do many of the things that he’d desperately wanted to do.
Still, life seemed too short all of a sudden. He didn’t want to remain behind and detonate the nexus. But he wasn’t going to order someone else to do it. He was the captain. He would take the dirty job, the needed job, and make sure it was done right.
The New Men had made the tough choice. They’d understood a soldier’s task. Sometimes, one had to guard the bridge alone while the rest of the army fled. That was a glorious honor. It would be his honor to detonate the nexus and make sure this huge bug armada never made it to Human Space.
His mother had died to protect him. He would now willingly lay down his life to protect his mother’s people.
“Hey, mate, what has you so gloomy looking?” Keith asked. “Can’t you see it? There’s the crazy nexus.”
Maddox shook off his reveries and looked up. There indeed was the nexus, a silver pyramid like all the others he’d seen. There was a unique addition to this nexus, though. Some kind of pressor field or ray guided incoming gases and debris through three giant sucker discs. The three giant discs were like jet intake props, sucking down gases and dust. How that transferred to three huge ports on the other side of the nexus, Maddox didn’t know. More pressor fields or rays smoothed the out-coming gases and debris ejecting from the three back ports.
“That must be how the nexus moves around,” Keith said.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Maddox said. “The law of equilibrium demands greater energy—
“Of course it makes sense,” Keith said, interrupting. “It’s like an ancient Bussard ramjet. The nexus scoops up the gases and debris and blows it out as reaction mass. The nexus supplies the additional energy, possibly with antimatter engines or something more elegant. It does it all slowly enough, though, that it remains hidden in the nebula. Now, sense or not, mate—sir—how close do you want me to go to it?”
Maddox eyed the intake discs and blast ports and eyed the swirling gases around the nexus. “Do you think you can bring the shuttle to within fifty meters of it?”
Keith laughed. “Is that a joke?”
“Can or can’t you do it?” asked Maddox.
“Consider it done, sir.”
Maddox eyed the discs sucking down gases. He didn’t trust the three big apparatuses. Could those turn on the space-sleds and suck them down?
“You want me to do it then?” Keith asked.
“Yes, proceed with care,” Maddox said.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Keith said. “We’re going in.”
-85-
As he was suiting up in the locker area of the shuttle, Ludendorff knew he should have stayed in bed. He felt lightheaded and nauseous. His hands were useless, and he doubted he could undergo another session in the depth of the apex. But he wasn’t going to let the half-breed outman him. This was the moment of decision, of keeping the Swarm from invading Human Space.
Clearly, the vast armada had targeted humanity for extinction. The little he knew about the Swarm led him to that inescapable conclusion. What made it all so galling was that he knew exactly how to shut down the nexus without fanfare. Correction, he had known how to do that. But he’d tossed aside the critical knowledge along with other priceless information. All he’d wanted to know about the Builders had been inside his brain.
“I threw it away like trash,” he whispered to himself.
The professor shifted his shoulder as Sergeant Riker pulled up the spacesuit. This was ridiculous. He was helpless and couldn’t even dress himself.
Ludendorff kept staring at the nexus outside the shuttle. This one was different from all the other nexuses he’d seen. The discs that sucked down debris and the ports on the other side that spewed it out—what a clever system.
“That’s it,” Ludendorff said. “That’s what I do not understand.”
“What’s that?” Maddox asked. The captain was already wearing his spacesuit. He spoke through the open visor of his helmet.
“That’s what I don’t understand about this,” Ludendorff repeated. “Why is this nexus hidden? No other nexus hides like that. What caused the Builders to make those inhalers here and the exhalers on the other side? Why would they go to such effort—?”
“The Swarm,” Riker said, as he pulled up the left shoulder of the professor’s spacesuit.
“Are you suggesting that the Swarm Imperium sprawled everywhere when the Builders fashioned the ancient nexus?” Ludendorff asked the sergeant.
“Why not?” Riker asked defensively.
The professor rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe this. It’s obvious why not.”
“To you it’s obvious,” Riker said. “Not to the rest of us.”
“The Builders fashioned the nexus before the Swarm Imperium existed,” Maddox said.
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying,” Ludendorff told them. “There wasn’t any need then to hide a nexus from the Swarm Imperium, because no imperium existed when the Builders constructed the nexus.”
“So they hid the nexus from someone else,” Riker said. “Big deal.”
“Who else?” asked Ludendorff.
“How should I know?” Riker asked.
“The Nameless Ones?” Maddox guessed.
“No,” Ludendorff said. “The Nameless Ones never reached this part of the galaxy.”
“A Builder foe we’ve never heard of then,” Maddox said.
“Possibly,” Ludendorff said, having grown uneasy.
“Spit it out,” Maddox said. “What do you suspect is going on?”
“We shouldn’t enter this place,” Ludendorff said suddenly. “The Builders…” the professor shook his head. “There’s something about this particular nexus the Builders didn’t want anyone to learn. That’s why they went to such effort to conceal it.”
“If it’s that dangerous,” Riker said, “why construct it in the first place?”
“I don’t know,” Ludendorff said. “But that’s a good question. Captain, I suggest we torpedo the nexus with massed antimatter missiles. Destroy it from the outside.”
“That’s all well and good,” Maddox said. “But first we need a hyper-spatial tube to reach the next nexus. Remember, we have three of these things to destroy. This is just the first one.”
“We’ll never reach the others if we enter this place,” Ludendorff said.
Riker, Meta and Keith glanced at the captain.
“Professor,” Maddox said as he eyed the Methuselah Man closely, “you’re becoming superstitious. We have no choice about this. Our mission parameters force us to take the risk of entering.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Ludendorff said. “We’re…we’re possibly treading where humans weren’t meant to go.”
“This advice is coming from you?” asked Maddox. “You’re the one who is always taking insane risks. You must be tired, Professor. I don’t
blame you. You’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time. Plus, this is the Sagittarius Arm, not the Orion Spiral Arm.”
“What difference could the latter possibly make to me?” Ludendorff asked.
“Pressure,” Maddox said. “This is the Deep Beyond. Here, the pressure goes off the charts.”
“Bah,” Ludendorff said. “If you’re not going to listen to reason, then let’s get on with this and go to our doom.”
“Agreed,” said Maddox. “Not the doom part, but let’s get started. Sergeant, get a move on if you would.”
Riker nodded, pulling up the other shoulder of the professor’s spacesuit.
-86-
After a short journey outside the shuttle, Maddox floated several meters from the ancient nexus. Keith had towed him, Meta, Riker and the professor with a space-sled. Each of them wore a spacesuit and carried plenty of extra air-tanks, and supplies on their thruster packs.
The reason for having Keith tow them was simple. He wanted the expert for each part of the mission. No one flew better than Keith Maker. Thus, the ace flew them to the location. If that meant the shuttle lacked a pilot for a little while, so be it.
Riker now guided the handicapped professor before the area the Methuselah Man had indicated. Maddox couldn’t see any difference in this part of the nexus, but this wasn’t his area of expertise.
Maddox was growing anxious again. The Swarm fleet should be moving up soon and they hadn’t even broken into the ancient structure. Why did every stage out here seem to take longer than normal?
“Do you see that point?” Ludendorff asked over his helmet comm as he waved in the desired direction.
Riker grunted an affirmative over his own comm.
“Aim my device at it,” Ludendorff said.
The sergeant did as bidden, aiming a clicker at the nexus point. Nothing seemed to happen. Suddenly, however, a small section of the pyramid wall dilated open.
“Now,” Ludendorff said, “while it’s open, jetpack us inside.”
Riker first hooked the professor’s suit to his. Then, the sergeant used his thruster pack, squirting white hydrogen particles.
Maddox was more adept at thruster-pack flying than the sergeant. He sailed past the duo, heading for the dark opening. Behind him, Meta surely followed. Maddox clicked on his helmet lamp, washing the area with a beam of light. He sailed through the opening, flying into a large chamber with star fields shining electronically upon the interior bulkheads.
The captain rotated and braked gently until he floated weightlessly in the large chamber—it was half the size of a Victory hangar bay.
Meta glided in next and then Riker brought himself and the professor inside.
“Keep going,” Ludendorff radioed. “This—” He abruptly stopped talking.
Behind them, the entrance closed, sealing them in the nexus.
“What’s wrong?” asked Maddox.
“This place,” Ludendorff said in an odd voice.
“What about it?”
“It’s…it’s different.”
“Meaning what?” Maddox asked.
As Riker and he floated weightlessly, the professor twisted toward the captain. “Listen carefully. This is not a normal nexus. We should…we should reopen the entrance and leave while we’re able.”
“We’re staying until we get the job done,” Maddox said firmly.
“Do you sense a Ska?” Riker shakily asked the professor.
“What?” Ludendorff asked. “No. I feel something worse than a Ska.”
“Worse than a Ska?” Riker whispered. “Worse? You’re saying worse? How could it be worse?”
“You need to be precise,” Maddox said. “Tell us exactly what you’re sensing.”
“I-I don’t know exactly,” Ludendorff said. “It’s on the tip of my tongue, but…” He swore afterward. “This is maddening. I’m certain I knew once. But I tossed the knowledge, the precious knowledge. Now, I’m like everyone else, making wild guesses.”
“No one is like you, Professor,” Maddox said, his voice as calm as he could make it.
The captain looked around, his beam moving as his helmet rotated. The star fields shining on the walls must have been alien constellations—he didn’t recognize any—as seen from a planet in the Sagittarius Arm. That vantage-point world could be ten thousand light-years or more away from here.
Yet, there did seem to be something eerie about this nexus. Was that the power of suggestion? Had the professor’s words molded his thinking? How could he know? Ah. He had an idea. The power of suggestion could work two ways.
“This nexus is different,” Maddox said in an agreeable tone. “It’s different because we’re in a different spiral arm. Look. We’ve learned the Swarm Imperium isn’t monolithic. Surely, the same holds true for Builders. These are Sagittarius Arm Builders, distinct from the Orion Arm Builders that trained you, Professor.”
Ludendorff’s silvered visor kept focused on Maddox. Finally, the professor said in a calmer voice than before, “That’s an astute observation, Captain. Yes. That makes more sense.” Ludendorff chuckled nervously. “I’ve been making myself and possibly the rest of you nervous for no reason. Five thousand light-years means something after all, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t like it in here,” Riker said over his helmet comm.
“That’s because you’re a superstitious old coot,” Maddox told the sergeant. “Do you still think you know your way around in here?” he asked Ludendorff.
“I believe so,” the professor said. “There are a few differences I’m noticing, but the basic pattern still seems to hold. Yes, I recognize the way. Sergeant, if you will rotate us twenty-five degrees, we should enter through the third arch. That should lead us to the Linkage Chamber.”
Maddox hoped he was correct about his so-called observation and the professor wrong about his earlier statement. He didn’t want to run into a Ska, and he certainly didn’t want to run into something worse than a Ska. This was a Sagittarius Arm nexus, and that’s all the difference there was to it. Maybe the discs and ports outside helping to hide the nexus were common out here in the Sagittarius Arm.
Maddox squeezed his trigger-throttle and jetted after Riker and Ludendorff. He looked back. Meta was following him.
The four human motes moved through the ancient nexus, with its maze of pitch-black, oversized corridors. With varying degrees of success, the four tried to explore boldly. Yet, despite the captain’s words, they each flew warily. According to Galyan’s earlier scan, there were no life forms waiting for them in here. Why, then, did Maddox feel so tense? Was it a premonition of a coming disaster? Or was it the fear of having to stay behind soon? He hadn’t told anyone about that yet. In a sense, the disaster of his life was fast approaching. He could call holding the way while the others left glory, but the closer he came to having to do it, the less glorious it was feeling.
-87-
While the four explored the alien nexus, over five thousand light-years away in the Orion Arm of the galaxy, beneath the surface of the forbidden Red Planet, the Great Machine roared and shook.
The Old One, Nay-Yog-Yezleth—awakened and revived by tainted varth elixir—controlled the Great Machine. The mighty worldwide mechanism did not use thermonuclear or even antimatter energy. Instead, long shafts running through the planetary crust tapped the thermal energy of the red-hot mantle. The mantle had absorbed some of the heat radiating upward from the center of the world—the core that was as hot as some stars.
Mako 21 waited in the transfer chamber inside the heart of the Great Machine. She wore a Spacer suit with oxygen tanks and stood near a large thruster-pack. This pack was different from those Maddox and his people used. The Spacer thruster-pack was bigger, carried more fuel and could act, in some instances, like an independent space vehicle.
The diminutive Spacer had radically changed since her last conversation with the Strand clone some time ago. She was much more capable now than before and had evolutionarily advanced, m
aking her different from the Visionary and other higher-ranked Surveyors First-Class.
Certainly, Mako still looked much as she had when first entering the Meditation Machine that had propelled her on the fateful astral journey when she’d joined the multi-mind entity. In other words, she still seemed human. But looks could be deceiving. In Mako’s estimation and that of the Visionary, she was not Homo sapiens any more. Neither was she Homo superior as the New Men considered themselves to be. She had become Homo sapiens enhanced. She thought differently than Spacer humans did. She possessed extra senses and extra powers provided by her modifications and the extreme training under the Educator.
Mako had also become an artificial being. She could not reproduce herself by mating. If a man lay with her, Mako could conceive, but only an ordinary Spacer-human baby. Yet, even though that was all true, she was the Spacer egg, seeking to mutate into a superior form as conceived by the Visionary’s astral voyage dreams and other Visionaries’ dreams before her.
The two had spoken about this as the Visionary shared some of the possible paths awaiting Mako. The good ones foretold an amazing transformation, a mutation or, more likely, a metamorphosis from a human into a godling. First, Mako must make the incredible journey to the targeted nexus. She was the pod, the seed of the Spacer future, of a galactic super-being that would transcend even the Builders of old.
Three hours ago, for a reason known only to the Visionary—at least she believed only she knew the reason—the Supreme Spacer had given the word, “It is time to start the Great Machine.”
The Strand clone had made his adjustments to the Great Machine some time ago, fixing his alterations. Afterward, provost marshals had returned the clone to his cell where he could contemplate his sins.
With the word given, other Spacers had awakened the hideous Nay-Yog-Yezleth, giving the Old One his final injection of varth elixir. Once the gross being indicated that he was awake, the others had prodded the ancient alien to his great and final task.
The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9) Page 42
