Shadows of Golstar (76 page)

The
guard turned away from the monitoring screen, his expression beleaguered. “Can
you believe it?” he looked over to the other guard lounging in a chair. “Look
at him. He has been acting strange for days. Now he is talking to himself and
making those weird pantomimes again. The man has completely lost his mind.”

“Provided
he had one to begin with,” the other guard smirked. “I wonder if all the men in
Confederated Planets are like him.”

The
other responded, “If that is so, then it is no wonder that we beat them so
handily when they invaded.” He looked back at the monitor. The prisoner was now
pacing back and forth. “It is hard to understand how he managed to escape, or
for that matter, how he overpowered five of our men.”

The
guard lounging in the chair straightened. “That is just an unfounded rumor,
Connell. I would not put much stock into it if I were you. His body might be
strong, but his mind is weak. There is no possible way someone like him could
prevail against even one of our men. I know for a fact he used the Keeper of
the Way as a shield to hide behind. He is a pathetic coward whose streak of
unbelievable fortune has finally ended.” He looked at the monitor behind the other
man. “Just look at what he is doing now.”

The
other guard groaned, “Do I have to?”   

The
former Grand Patriarch sat alone in his quarters, a prisoner. They had blocked
his access to the Sanctum and disabled the rooms’ defenses. Now unfettered and
completely powerless, he sat alone in his velvet-lined cage waiting for them to
lose their patience. It would likely not be much longer, he thought.

Soon
they would tire of their fruitless interrogations. They would then take him for
one last walk, down the long featureless corridor to the innocuous-looking door
behind which an enigmatic piece of apparatus stood poised, ready to render a
human soul into little more than that of a mindless animal. Perhaps just before
they placed him in it, he would be given one more chance to provide the code
sequence. If he refused, he would then be strapped into the thinly padded metal
chair and the glass helmet studded with thin metal rods would be carefully
placed on his cranium.

As it
began to extract his memories, in all likelihood his mind would splinter under
the probe’s collateral radiations. If he tried to resist, he might be able to
delay the inevitable, for at least a few minutes. However, in either case, his
mind would eventually succumb and yield all of its secrets. Afterwards, if he
was fortunate, he might still be able dress himself and perhaps communicate in
some rudimentary fashion. If he was not, he would be reduced to an empty shell,
without even a tiny spark of intellect remaining. In the end, it mattered
little. Either fate was equivalent to a death sentence.

A
bitter laugh escaped his lips. In the past, he had found the mind probe a most
effective tool for interrogation and had directed its use a number of times. He
had never given its deadly side effects a second thought. The value of the
information he had gained outweighed the pain and mental degradation his
enemies endured during the memory extraction process. He thought it ironic he
was now going to experience what they had undergone under his direction.

He
shook his head angrily, trying to dislodge these errant thoughts. With clenched
fists, he pounded the arms of the chair in frustration. That he could find
himself in this situation was unthinkable. His plan should have worked! He
tried to anticipate every contingency. But he did not plan for simple betrayal,
betrayal by those closest to him. The bitch Joselé, and the weak-minded members
of the Assembly were not surprising; he could have handled them. But he had not
expected treachery from Talin, his so-called friend and trusted advisor, and
his own daughter. They had joined forces with his enemies and worked against
him in the end. These bitter thoughts brought forth the taste of bile,
sickening him. He grimaced, fighting back the nausea with his hate. The feeling
slowly receded and the hate was soon replaced with a growing feeling of
emptiness. 

His
eyes became glazed, staring at the far wall as his thoughts began to recycle
his failures for the hundredth time, and how it had gone so wrong. All of his
planning, all of his scheming, it had all come to nothing in the end. He
imagined he could feel the Light beginning to diminish, retreating from the
oncoming darkness that he had tried to prevent. He would have been the savior
of his civilization, a heroic figure that would have stood out in the annals of
Golstar’s rich history. Instead, his reign might now garner a mere footnote, a
footnote listing his inadequacies and ultimate failure as a leader, provided
that anyone remained to write it.

His
brooding was interrupted by a soft noise, the sound of a door opening from a
distance. He listened carefully, welcoming the minuscule diversion even though
it might portend yet another interrogation. He heard the muted rattling of
dishes as a heavy cart crossed the threshold from the outer corridor into the
next room. He sighed in relief. It was time again for the evening meal. The
time for the dissolution of his mind had not yet come.

Though
he was not the least bit hungry, he would force himself to eat. He needed the
fuel to maintain his strength. He needed that strength to think clearly and
continue his resistance. He stubbornly refused to go to his fate quietly. He
looked up as the latch rattled and the door opened. One armed guard, with his
weapon drawn, smoothly entered and stood aside as Jason Waverly walked in,
pushing a food cart. Another armed guard entered and closed the door. Waverly
approached the ousted leader and with his back to the guards, he winked.

Geoffrey
Firestone, ex-ruler of Golstar, hid his surprise well. As he watched his former
aide carefully place the tray of food on the table, he allowed himself a small
kernel of hope. Perhaps some of his planning would bear fruit after all.

● ● ●

Hec continued
to monitor Owens’ communications link. He could sense the Controller’s presence
hovering in the background, virtually looking over his non-existent shoulder,
waiting for the proper numerical sequence. Owens was running out of possible
combinations. It should only be a matter of time before Owens finally voiced
the correct code. At that point, the Controllers would acknowledge his access
and transport him away from his imprisonment.

It
would all be over very soon, but something was troubling Hec... a small
niggling thought that related to his recent interaction with the Controllers.
Something didn’t feel quite right. Along with the coldness of the machine
minds, he sensed something else, something indefinable far in the background,
something carefully concealed. Hec wondered if it was only his imagination.
Then he wondered, in his present incarnation, did he even have an imagination?
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling in his circuits the Controllers were
hiding something. He wanted desperately to talk to Owens. Once the Boss escaped
his imprisonment, Hec needed to find some way to speak to him... in private.

Hec
listened as Owens began another cycle of his erratic performance. He started
with singing in his usual off-key voice yet another nonsensical song followed
by a rambling dialog interspersed with occasional curses directed at his silent
watchers. Hec impatiently waited for the next sequence of numbers. It wasn’t
long in coming. Owens recited the next string of numbers, punctuated by a loud
“Hike.” A long period of silence was followed by... “Hec, can you hear me? It
finally worked! I’m in the Prime complex.”

● ● ●

Alarms
reverberated throughout the palace. The sounds of running feet echoed along its
corridors as security personnel rushed to set up searches. Talin met Joselé in
the hallway leading to his official offices. His usual escort had grown to six
guards, two blocking the passageway in each direction while the remaining two
stood close to Talin.

Joselé
looked disheveled. Her clothes had been hastily thrown on in answer his abrupt
summons. The palace alarm suddenly stopped its plaintive wail. The immediate
transition to silence was equally unnerving to the fidgeting minister. She
looked at him with fear in her eyes. “What is happening? Are we under attack?”

He
shook his head, almost as if trying to clear it. “Fortunately no, but my news
is almost as dire. I am afraid Janus Owens has once again managed to escape.”

It
took a few seconds for the import of his words to sink in. “That is simply not
possible,” she sputtered. “It just cannot be.”

“I am
sorry to say that it is,” his voice was hard; his anger barely kept in check.

She
stared at him with dazed eyes, searching his face, verifying this was not some
horribly cruel joke. Her voice was barely above a whisper, “But how?”

“He
simply vanished. However, by the fact his disappearance occurred without any
observable phenomena, we know that he had significant help… help from a totally
unexpected quarter.”

“But
he was totally isolated was he not? He was under constant, close surveillance,”
she protested. “How could anyone have…?”

Talin
interrupted her, “I am afraid it was not just anyone, rather it was some
thing
.
I believe that it was the Controllers. Only they could have intervened in such
a manner. But the question remains, why?”

She
became speechless at his revelation. He continued, “The surveillance team is
adamant that he was ranting and raving one moment, and gone in the next. The
monitoring record supports their assertion. Janus Owens simply vanished. The
only way for him to disappear in that manner would be by the use of the
Trah-tang transport technology. So, it appears evident the Controllers have
unexpectedly assumed an active role in determining Janus Owens’ fate.”

Joselé
found her voice, “Why would they intervene? Without the access code, what would
be their purpose in rescuing him?”

The
acting Grand Patriarch shook his head. “At present, it remains a complete
mystery…” He was interrupted by a woman in uniform rapidly approaching. He
recognized her immediately. She was a ranking member of Palace Internal
Security. She stopped for a moment and talked briefly to one of the guards
blocking the hallway. After receiving a curt nod from the guard, she approached
Talin. Bowing respectfully, she said, “Your Luminance, I come with grave news.”

He
wondered how the news could get any worse. “Tell me.”

“We
just reviewed he surveillance recording immediately prior to the outsider’s
disappearance. And we discovered…” She seemed to be having trouble with the
words.

Talin’s
voice was harsh, “Do not waste my time, and tell me what you have found.”

She
bowed again and said, “Please forgive me. We completed our initial interviews
with the security personnel on duty prior to the prisoner’s escape. They stated
it was not unusual for the prisoner to spout nonsense, including curses and
random sequences of numbers from time to time. It seemed to be some sort of
imaginary game in which the man frequently engaged. In reviewing the video log
just before he disappeared, the prisoner was reciting a long string of numbers.
On voicing yet another sequence of numbers, he simply vanished from the room.
It would seem now that it was some sort of code.”

At
her words, Joselé’s face blanched. Talin found it hard to suppress a sharp
inhalation in reaction to the shocking news. “The security detail did not
document the man’s odd behavior prior to this?”

“No, your
Luminance. Other than an initial notation in their duty logs, no one felt it
necessary to pursue what was believed to be ramblings and curses solely
intended to irritate his observers. As the prisoner displayed no
self-destructive tendencies, no further action was deemed to be required.”

“I
want all of those involved with the security detail held,” he said with quiet
menace. “I will deal with them later. You are dismissed.” The woman spun on her
heel and left hurriedly.

Talin
grimaced, “He must have had the code all along; it is the only possible answer.
But how did he find it? And why did he wait so long to use it?”

Joselé
had a question of her own, “How did he contact the Controller to begin with? At
least, his watchers would have noted anything that unusual.”

“I do
not know; we may never know,” he said quietly. “The only thing we do know is
that the Controllers have him now.”

“If
that is so, then we will have little chance in recapturing him,” the minister’s
head bowed. Her thin shoulders trembled slightly, as if she was on the verge of
breaking down.

He
said slowly, “A member of our hated enemy… truly, he now has the fate of
Golstar in his hands, and I am afraid to imagine what he might do.”

At
these words, Joselé emitted a small cry and collapsed senselessly to the floor.

Owens
was staring at a glowing orb, identical to the one he had encountered once
before on Selane. It took him only a second to recover from the abrupt
transition and inform Hec of his success. Quickly noting that he was alone, he
said, “Controller, where’s Sharné? I remember specifically asking that she be
transported along with me.”

**At
this time we cannot comply with your request. She is currently in an area
shielded to block our surveillance and retrieval systems. As soon as she exits
the affected area, she will be transported to your location.**

“Hmm,
it was my understanding that you could monitor anywhere on the planet.”

**With
the exception of a few designated areas, that is true.**

Owens
frowned, “Explain.”

**The
Founder had certain areas set aside within the palace that were specifically
built to be shielded from our sensors. Those areas include the residences of
the Grand Patriarch’s immediate family along with a number of private rooms,
offices, and the greater part of the Founder’s Sanctum.**

“I
see… well then I guess there’s nothing you can do at the moment, but please
notify me immediately when she’s available for transport. I’d like a little
pre-warning before she pops in from out of nowhere.”

**As
you wish.**

Owens
then finally looked around. He saw he was standing in a bright-lit room unlike
any other he had encountered before in Golstar. There was a complex-looking
articulated chair in the middle of the floor. Embedded in its padding were
hundreds of shiny disks. He surmised they were sensors positioned to monitor
every aspect of an occupant’s body.
 
Cables of various thicknesses were connected to virtually every part of
the chair’s intricate metal framework. Some were obviously light-wave harnesses
while others looked to be older-fashioned conductors. A silver hood, apparently
meant to cover the head was suspended at one end of the chair. It too had a
number of conductors sprouting from it exterior. The cables were bundled into
larger strands and together they formed spokes that radiated across the floor
and terminated into tall machines lining the walls. Looking at the setup, Owens
was reminded of a giant spider web with the chair for its victim at its center.

Looking
around at the enigmatic machines crowding the walls he asked, “What’s all this
for?”

**It
is the means by which essential calibrations for machine interfaces are
conducted. This is the same chair in which the Founder sat centuries ago. It is
a simple, technical procedure necessary to facilitate the Compact; it is here
where the Founder assumed absolute control of the Trah-tang technologies.**

“
You want me to sit in
that
?” Alarm bells were
starting to ring in the back of Owens’ mind.

**Eventually,
yes, but not at the moment. It is the very last step required for you to assume
control of the Primes. Prior to this procedure, one other formality must first
take place.**

Owens
barely registered the mention of the other formality, still staring at the
chair. He hadn’t expected anything like this. He had assumed once he had spoken
the code another sample would be taken to confirm his DNA and that would be
that. This didn’t feel right. He decided to stall. “Before I agree to sit in
that thing, how about a little tour? I think that with all I’ve gone through I
deserve to see little of what I’m getting into.”

**Very
well.**

The
room vanished and he found himself standing on a round metal platform of some
sort. The Controller’s sphere accompanied him. He looked around and estimated
the platform to be about ten meters in diameter. Light came from another,
larger glowing orb positioned high above the platform. He could see nothing
beyond the borders of the platform’s floor. It was as black as space, but
without the stars. “Okay, this isn’t exactly enlightening, where are we?”

**You
are on an observation platform on level twenty-three, node three.**

“Well
that doesn’t tell me very much. Can you be a little more specific?”

A
metal cylinder up rose from the floor; its flat end slanted towards Owens. The featureless
surface pulsed in muted blues and greens.
**Place your left hand on the
master actuator pad.**

Owens
hesitated for a moment, then did so.

**This
is the formality that we mentioned. Prior to sitting in the calibration chair
to establish the final machine interface, you must first formalize your
assumption of Control under the Compact. This process is also required before
you can be allowed to view these facilities. Using your right hand, you must
press the symbols in the order that they appear.**

Another
cylinder rose up next to the first one. Its surface glowed in pale yellow. A
single symbol appeared in black on its face. It took the form of geometric
shapes arrayed in an intricate pattern. Sort of like taking an oath, he
thought. This at least seemed pretty innocuous. “More red tape,” he snorted. He
supposed humans couldn’t take all the credit for inventing it. He reached
toward the glowing symbol and hesitated, his hand hovering above the
hieroglyph. He recalled his pledge to Sharné. “This isn’t going to start up any
changes that will affect Golstar, will it? I promised someone I wouldn’t do
anything without first getting their concurrence.”

**It
is only the step to complete the transfer of the ability to wield power over
the Primes. Afterward, the machine interface calibration will be necessary
before any actual program changes may be initiated.**

 Owen
thought of the room he had just left and couldn’t shake his initial reaction.
It still reminded him of a torture chamber.

**You
need only to press the symbols. That will allow you access and then can you
begin the tour of these facilities.**

Owens
still hesitated. He could imagine a great weight poised above, ready to drop heavily
on his shoulders. It was the weight of unimagined responsibility. Once he
completed these rituals, the fate of Golstar would then really be in his hands.
His heart started to beat faster and he could feel the first traces of sweat
begin to bead his brow. But seeing no alternative, he went ahead and pressed
the first symbol. Then, for what seemed like an hour, he pressed each
successive symbol as it appeared. Finally, he pressed another symbol and waited
for the next, but nothing appeared.

**It
is done. The transfer of power has been completed.**

Owens
dropped his hands to his sides as the cylinders sank back into the floor’s
surface.

Okay,
Owens thought to himself. He said, “You called this an observation platform, to
observe what exactly?”

**This…**

This
time the transition was startling. One moment he was standing in the middle of
a metal floor, surrounded by inky blackness, and the next he found the platform
on which he was standing suspended over a hundred meters above the brightly lit
floor of a sprawling cavern. Heavy machinery and large buildings of alien
design took up almost every available space. One nearby structure, in
particular, caught his eye. It was comprised of domes, bullet-topped turrets,
spires, and lofty cooling towers topped with fanned radiator fins reminding
Owens of gigantic mushrooms. They were interconnected at points with cylinders
and lattice-works of rods. Even though he had no connection to the ground, he
could sense vibrations, an almost musical hum that emanated from the
bewildering array of shapes.

He
looked beyond the fascinating building and watched as huge air barges laden
with cargo exited smoothly from openings between the other buildings and
elements of the expansive complex. Between the buildings, transports of various
sizes and shapes with lights dotting their flanks moved to and fro along
elevated thoroughfares. The lights, sounds and movement all contributed to the
feeling of frenetic industrial activity, the mechanisms below dutifully
performing their mysterious functions. Owens looked further out, trying to
discern the scale of whatever it was that he was looking at. But in any
direction he chose to look, he could not see a far wall, only a blurry sort of
horizon.

Before
he could frame a question, the Controller spoke.
**You are looking at
manufacturing node number three, nexus seven. It is here that key elements of
the Master Observatory were recycled and manufactured. As you are aware, since
the Founder’s death, human access to the Primes and their resources has
remained withdrawn, the manufacturing processes all halted. This node has
recently been reactivated for this small demonstration. It has the capability
of supporting thirty-two point six percent of the material requirements for
maintaining Master Observatory.**

Owens
detected something in the Controller’s voice. Was it perhaps a subtle hint of
emotion? Before that moment, he hadn’t thought of the Controllers as anything
but highly sophisticated AIs, intelligent machines, but perhaps they were
something more. As he thought about it, he found himself growing intrigued. He
said, “Master Observatory? To call something a
master
anything would
seem to endow it with a special kind of significance.” He looked down again at
the structures below, “And all of this just to maintain a portion of it? If
this complex is any indication, I would say that the Master Observatory must be
pretty damn significant, in both size and importance.”

**You
are correct in your assumption. It was the largest research instrument ever constructed
by the Trah-tang.
 
Its laudable aim was
to search this galaxy. It succeeded and advanced the science of astronomy. It
was the critical first step toward the Trah-tang’s eventual, physical
exploration of space outside of this solar system. Humankind has yet to
replicate such an achievement.**

He
had it; he recognized the emotion that had been subtly coloring the
Controller’s words. Pride, it was pride he had heard. He said, “I see. I have
to agree it’s a remarkable achievement.” He asked, “Just out of curiosity,
where is the Master Observatory, the Trah-tang’s monument to science, located?”

The
Controller seemed pause,
**It is a monument no longer. The support
mechanisms do still exist, however they no longer function as the Trah-tang had
originally intended. By direction of the Founder, the observatory was modified
to fit his human requirements.**

Owens
strained to hear any inflection in the soft voice, but it appeared to have
reverted to its earlier mechanical syntax. Thinking about the Controller’s
previous emotional response, he decided to redirect the conversation for a
moment. “Your designation of this facility would seem to imply there are more
of these manufacturing plants.”

**That
is correct. There exist thousands of such facilities within this Prime, each
dedicated to a specific class of technology and functions. This Prime Complex
consists of eighty-thee subterranean levels dedicated to fabrication. Each
level contains many manufacturing centers similar in scope to what you observe
here. The number varies by level. In addition, there are three dedicated
research levels and three data-storage levels. Each of the eighty-nine levels
is approximately twenty thousand square kilometers in area. The Primes are
replicated on five planets within this solar system.**

Owens
abruptly went back to subject of the observatory.  “You mentioned the
Founder had modified the Master Observatory. What changes did he make?”

**He
directed the receptor elements of the wave-telescope to be redesigned and
repositioned. They became part of the platform for a medium and short-range
tactical vessel detection system. He directed the conversion of the orbiting
observatory and science platforms into armed fortresses.**

Owens
immediately made the connection. “Wait a minute; you’re talking about the
satellite defense grid, aren’t you?”

**You
are correct. The satellites were once linked together, forming a gigantic
multi-wave telescope receptor that spanned this solar system. As you were told
before, it was a part of the Trah-tang’s far-range vision to understand the
universe. It was intended as an instrument for peaceful exploration and stellar
mapping. However, its function was dramatically changed from the original,
benevolent purpose of its design. It was perverted into a thing of war,
perverted by the self-named Founder.**

Whoa,
Owens thought. He had hit a nerve. The Controller’s tone and manner of speech
changed again, this time much more dramatically. There was no longer any
resemblance to the emotionless machine intelligence it had originally portrayed
itself to be. Its latest response went far beyond what Owens had asked and the
words it used were definitely emotionally charged and human-patterned. This
time, Owens detected the definite bite of unconcealed bitterness.

Owens
lapsed into silence, thinking back on his earlier conversations with the Grand
Patriarch. An idea was slowly forming in his mind. He said, “So the defense
network wasn’t what the Trah-tang had originally envisioned. Were there any
other modifications to the Trah-tang technologies?”