With the lifting or disappearing of the Old One’s will from the Omega Nebula nexus, others who could never have acted were now starting to think bravely about how they could save the day for humanity.
-101-
On the bridge of Victory, Valerie ordered the helmsman to take the starship behind the nexus in relation to the advancing Swarm super-fleet.
The first long-range, heavy-laser beams of the motherships had already turned the starship’s shield a red-tinged color. That was only going to get worse with each passing second.
Victory maneuvered toward the nexus and already began turning around it. The effect on the Swarm ships was practically instantaneous. The barrage of enemy heavy lasers quit. Clearly, the Hive Masters controlling the fleet did not want to damage the nexus in any way.
“That gives us a tiny tactical advantage,” Lieutenant Noonan said.
“Valerie,” Galyan informed her. “It does more than that. The electronic blockage to the disrupter and neutron cannons is gone. I have begun warming up each. You should be able to fire in several minutes.”
“What difference does that make for us now?” Valerie asked. “We can possibly destroy a handful of enemy ships—”
“Or break through the nexus hull,” Galyan said, interrupting.
“Right,” Valerie said, as she slapped an armrest. She turned to communications. “Recall the strikefighters. They’re not doing any good now.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” the comm officer said. “By the way, sir, Lieutenant Maker is asking permission to fold into the nexus.”
Valerie stared at the main screen, obviously thinking about the request.
“Lieutenant,” Andros said from his station. “I have Meta on the line.”
“Put her on the speaker,” Valerie said.
Andros tapped his panel.
“Meta,” Valerie said.
“Maddox went into the star gate,” Meta said in a rush. “I wanted to join him, but Ghar-Yon-Tog wouldn’t let me.”
“What?” Valerie asked. “What star gate? What are you talking about?”
“The Old One is on a different nexus,” Meta said. “Maddox went through a star gate linking the two nexuses. He went to try to kill the thing. I don’t think he succeeded, but I’m not feeling Ghar-Yon-Tog’s will stopping me from acting anymore. That’s got to mean something good.”
“I heard that,” Keith said from a different comm link. “This is it, Valerie,” he said. “We have the away team’s location. Meta,” Keith said, “is there room for me to fold the tin can to your position?”
“Barely,” Meta said, sounding doubtful.
Valerie was shaking her head at Keith’s insistence on going in there.
“I have to go get them,” Keith said over the comm. “If nothing else, I can be there when the captain returns, and pull him out.”
“He’s not returning,” Meta said. “Didn’t you hear me? He went after Ghar-Yon-Tog, and he has a peashooter to kill an elephant.”
“What does that mean?” Valerie asked.
“What kind of weapon did the captain take with him?” Keith asked from the fold-fighter.
“A rocket-firing rifle,” Meta said. “But he can’t kill an evil monster with that.”
“I have just the thing to help the captain,” Keith said. “Lieutenant Noonan, I’m asking permission to fold into the nexus.”
Valerie heard the conviction in the ace’s voice. “Will you go in if I don’t give you permission?” she asked.
“I’m asking first,” Keith said. “I know how to kill the Old One. I have just the weapon to do it.”
Valerie swallowed hard, because she thought she understood what the hotheaded fighter jock planned to do. He had two antimatter missiles attached to the fold-fighter. If a mere rifle was a peashooter…
“Permission granted,” Valerie said in a whisper.
“I heard that,” Keith said. “And thanks, love. You won’t regret it.”
“If you don’t come back, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” Valerie told him.
“Roger that,” Keith said. “Meta, are you ready?”
“I don’t know about this,” Meta said.
“I do,” Keith said. “This time, I’m going to be the hero.”
-102-
Maddox had charged the glass container with a fresh magazine of rocket shells. He hadn’t gotten a chance to test his theory, though.
Ghar-Yon-Tog had fixed the entirety of his will on the puny human, with predictable results.
Without any visible means for doing so, the space-suited Maddox presently dangled in midair before the Old One. The rocket rifle had smashed itself against the floor just before an irresistible and invisible force had grasped the captain and raised him into the air.
Maddox twisted in the grip of the invisible force, but he wasn’t having any luck. He did have a horrible bird’s eye view of the proceedings. He was like a kid shoved up against a glass window, looking down at the quadruple-whale-sized monster watching him.
It was either scream in terror or roar in rage. Maddox wasn’t shouting, but froth bubbled at his lips and his throat was sore from previous shouting. There was still some of the detached Maddox left—the anger had burned away, leaving the molten core of the captain’s personality. As a highly trained Intelligence operative, he observed for future references—not that he had a future, but old habits died hard.
With his tentacles—abnormally long and strong looking—Ghar-Yon-Tog pushed against the bottom of the colossal glass container, propelling his gross bulk toward the surface of the yellow solution. In moments, he breached it and eyed the captain from closer range.
You have committed blasphemy against the new order, Ghar-Yon-Tog mentally told Maddox. You tried to slay a god.
Hearing the Old One’s awakened thoughts directly in his brain was an agonizing experience. Maddox’s face scrunched up as the thoughts boomed with throbbing intensity, making the veins on the side of his temples swell with blood.
It took longer for the captain to understand the words’ meaning. Finally, he did. Inside his helmet, Maddox’s lips twisted as he tried to reply. His voice came out harsh and gasping.
“You’re no god.”
Ghar-Yon-Tog appeared to enjoy the talk. Will you spout yet more blasphemy, gnat? Compared to you, I am the master of the universe.
Maddox groaned as the words boomed in his brain. He could not take much more of this. Soon, he would develop an aneurism and it would surely blow.
With his huge tentacles, Ghar-Yon-Tog grasped the edge of the glass container and pulled himself higher yet. He revealed a gaping maw of a mouth and slowly lowered Maddox toward it.
You shall be my victory snack, gnat. Think upon that in your last seconds of life. You went against the greatest and now shall join me as sustenance and then as a smear of excrement as I shit you out. You are nothing, Captain Maddox. You are a worm—
Ghar-Yon-Tog the Great—the progenitor of the Yon-Soths—abruptly stopped forcing his thoughts into Maddox’s tiny brain, for at that moment, a terrible calamity impinged upon the Great One’s mind. He realized his earlier error of withdrawing his dream-state will from the vast reaches of space. It was a simple and understandable error, as he had been groggy from eons of sleep.
Lieutenant Keith Maker’s daring now showed itself. An antimatter missile zoomed out of the towering black stone star gate. The missile’s sides barely made it through the star-gate monolith, but make it through it did. The exhaust from the missile propelled it at great velocity toward the great arch that led to the revival chamber.
At the last moment, Ghar-Yon-Tog had sensed the incoming missile through the star gate. He’d made an error, but he also had masterful powers that these frail creatures likely did not even imagine he could possess.
With a thought, the Great One froze the missile’s exhaust and energy supply and forward momentum. Just like the rocket shells earlier, he halted the missile’s advance. There was a critical
difference, however. This act took more power. But wasn’t he Ghar-Yon-Tog the Great? He had power to spare.
Do you see, gnat, Ghar-Yon-Tog thought at Maddox.
I see, a new thought mind-spoke. Do you see this?
Maddox was vaguely aware of a new entity, one with soft mind-thoughts.
Oh. With his peripheral vision and through the visor, Maddox saw a tiny Spacer in a spacesuit walk boldly across the floor toward the gargantuan glass container. He silently applauded the daring—wait. He recognized the thought as coming from Mako 21. That was inconceivable. He’d left her behind in a life-pod in the Usan System.
I haven’t forgotten that, Maddox heard softly in his mind.
The captain might have given that more consideration, but the force keeping him up there abruptly quit. With a sick lurch in his gut, Maddox began falling from twenty-two meters up. He flailed for a second, surprised.
Instead of feeling elation that Ghar-Yon-Tog had cut the invisible moorings, Maddox looked down. He wasn’t headed for the gaping maw or the liquid of the yellow solution. He was headed straight for the floor. He stopped flailing and braced for impact, keeping his knees bent. This was going to hurt. It might cripple him.
The floor rushed up with startling speed. Then, Maddox was there. He hit the hard floor and managed to land like a cat—on his feet. His ankles did not twist. He had bracing space boots and they were on tight. His knees buckled even as he attempted to use parachute-landing technique. The bruised left calf exploded with agony and the rest of his body thumped down so hard he bounced.
Maddox clenched his jaws in order to keep from screaming at the pain jolting through him. Despite his best efforts, he was sure he’d broken bones and torn muscles. Maddox groaned then because the pain was too much.
Through tear-filmed eyes, Maddox saw the Spacer halt beside him, looking down at him.
Maddox made a feeble gesture with one of his gloved hands.
The Spacer—Mako 21—ignored him as she resumed her approach to the towering glass container. Maddox couldn’t understand how she resisted Ghar-Yon-Tog’s power to raise her airborne as he’d been airborne. Maybe the Old One had pegged him up there, but now that Ghar-Yon-Tog held the antimatter missile in place, he could not easily grasp someone with his powers.
With a soft groan, Maddox twisted his prone position on the floor. Some of the pain was fading. He could think a little more, even as he was aware of sweat drenching him. Had the spacesuit’s conditioner unit broken?
Mako aimed her visor up at Ghar-Yon-Tog. Maddox looked up too. All of the Old One’s eyes peered down at Mako from the top of the gargantuan glass container.
Maddox was no longer privy to the thoughts flashing back and forth between the two. He heard a buzz in his mind, so he figured they were speaking at each other. A glance to the left showed him the motionless, midair antimatter missile. Wait. The missile was not utterly motionless. It shifted minutely as if shivering, and that told something of the powers at play.
That bothered Maddox so his forehead furrowed. Mako had her modifications. That was nothing compared to the awakened Ghar-Yon-Tog, though. How could she stand free before the monster?
Then it dawned on Maddox what must be happening. It was the best answer as it fit the facts. The Spacer must have triggered the antimatter warhead. She must have caused it to explode. Ghar-Yon-Tog had then used his considerable powers to dampen the explosion—at least for the moment. The fantastic strain against the Yon-Soth allowed Mako’s slight power to come into play.
Correct, Maddox heard in his mind.
The captain frowned. Ghar-Yon-Tog kept the missile from flying at himself and kept its fuel from igniting. The frozen moment could not last long. Mako used the fantastic strain against the Old One and attempted to do something with her modifications. Soon, the monster or the Spacer would win.
Maddox looked around. He had to help Mako against Ghar-Yon-Tog. Ah. He spied his broken rocket rifle on the floor. Maybe he could salvage something there.
Maddox began dragging himself across the floor. His right knee had ballooned up, and his left leg wasn’t responding to his will. It hurt to pull himself like this, but—
Maddox chuckled throatily instead of groaning. It felt as if ants crawled across his body, biting him. Was that how he sensed the unleashed forces around him?
He eyed the broken rifle and felt sweat pouring off him, stinging his eyes. He panted, and he dragged himself faster.
Mako faced a monster from the deep time. Maybe he could figure out a way to launch the rocket shells at the thing. He had to tip the scales toward the Spacer. So what if it meant he blew up in an antimatter blast? This would be his final act. He would save his crew, the best crew any captain had ever had. He would save Meta, his love, save Brigadier O’Hara who had been like a mother to him. He’d save old Sergeant Riker, the best Intelligence operative high command could ever have given him.
Maddox no longer chuckled and no longer groaned. He’d fixated his sights upon the heap of a rocket rifle and was almost there. He could see the magazine, a dented thing, but full of rocket shells.
“Yes,” Maddox said through gritted teeth.
He saw something else in the background. It looked an awful lot like Meta in her spacesuit coming out of the star gate. He must be hallucinating. He would have liked to say goodbye to her.
Meta veered toward him, and she slammed her helmet with a gloved hand. Was she talking to him through the helmet comm? Was his broken?
“Meta is not there,” Maddox whispered to himself with a head-shake. The broken rocket rifle was there, though. Meta couldn’t be there, not after they’d launched an antimatter missile into this place. That would mean Meta had entered the star gate after they had launched the missile. She would have known that she would be coming here to almost certain doom.
Would Meta do that for him?
That was when Maddox realized he really saw his wife. She was no longer looking at him, but at the vast monster in the equally huge glass container.
***
Meta raced into a bizarre chamber and could hardly credit her eyes. She saw her poor husband dragging himself across the floor in a battered spacesuit. She saw the antimatter missile hanging in the air, making slight side-movements as if struggling to continue its flight at the, at the—
What was that ugly, tentacled monster in the glass container? Was that Ghar-Yon-Tog? He had warty skin and horrible eyes and locked his gaze on—
That was a Spacer spacesuit and therefore had to be a Spacer, a human, standing up to the grim monster from the early times of the universe. Meta gulped noisily and shivered in her spacesuit. She moaned in dread—
Then Meta tore her gaze from the awful monster. If she looked at Ghar-Yon-Tog, she would fall under his spell. Instead, she focused on Maddox. What had happened to him? Why didn’t he stand up?
Meta swerved aside and ran to him. She hit her helmet again with a gloved palm and told him to hurry up. He wasn’t listening or his helmet comm didn’t work. He dragged himself toward a useless rocket rifle on the floor. Maybe her husband’s fabled poise had broken under the strain. No. She didn’t believe that. He wanted to keep fighting and went to the only weapon he could see.
The fight was over in here. Now, it was time to go home.
Meta reached him. Maddox did not acknowledge her, but kept dragging his space-suited body to the heap on the floor.
She grabbed him. Maddox tried to fight free of her grasp, and he was weak. That told her the extent of his injuries. Maddox normally had iron strength. Given his lack of power, he must be critically injured.
“Stop it,” she cried. “Don’t make your injuries worse.”
Maddox didn’t listen.
Meta hunched her shoulders, all the acknowledgement she was willing to give the nearby monster. Then, using her 2G strength, knowing this was it, she turned Maddox onto his back. She grabbed his arms and hoisted him onto her back in a fireman’s carry. He was heavy, and she staggered
under the load.
Meta turned away from the monster, and she was only vaguely aware that Maddox had torn her sidearm blaster from its outer holster. How had he managed the tricky maneuver? He had to be in great pain.
Carrying Maddox on her shoulders, staggering for the star gate in the other chamber, Meta headed there one lurching step after another. Through her helmet, she heard the power whine of her blaster firing. She twisted to look.
Maddox aimed the blaster and fired at the monster. The beams struck Ghar-Yon-Tog’s warty hide, the area that was higher than the edge of the glass container. Black spots appeared at the location of each beam strike. Smoke roiled up, and the warty skin flinched like a cat’s furry hide shaking off water.
There was something much more ominous. Each blaster shot against Ghar-Yon-Tog caused the giant antimatter missile to belch a wisp of smoke from the rear port as it inched closer, in midair, toward the glass container.
Each blaster shot broke a little of Ghar-Yon-Tog’s concentration.
Meta heard a crackle of comm noise over her helmet comm.
“Die, Beast,” Maddox snarled in a tinny voice. A harsh laugh sounded next, a second harsh laugh that might have carried a tinge of madness in it. “Hit him harder, Mako. I’ll keep firing.”
Another blaster shot singed the great monster.
With a sob of effort, realizing Maddox wanted to kill Ghar-Yon-Tog more than survive, Meta began screaming. She moved faster than a lurch at a time now, and began trying to run in a staggering fashion.
Meta hated this place. And she knew they were out of time. If she didn’t reach the star gate soon, they would fail to make it onto the last fold-fighter out of the Omega Nebula nexus.
Meta’s space-suited boots rang against the floor of the statue chamber. She looked back as Maddox hurled the empty blaster at the monster. Then, through her helmet, Meta heard an octopus-like squeal that would haunt her for the rest of her life. That couldn’t have come from a blaster shot. Did Ghar-Yon-Tog expend his last strength holding back the missile?
The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9) Page 49
