Shadows of Golstar (64 page)

Owens
suspected the ‘integration’ process also used the same technology as the orbs,
and was more akin to brainwashing. It sickened him to imagine tiny human
embryos being bombarded with mind conditioning emissions, indoctrinated by
cold, unfeeling alien machines.

It
was fruitless to dwell on conjecture. He concentrated on what the Grand Patriarch
was saying. “…the center’s location is unimportant. The apparatus supporting
its functions failed long ago. It has been shut down for some time.”

Good,
Owens thought.

The
Grand Patriarch touched another control and the hologram vanished. He turned
around to face Owens and Sharné. “These were but two examples of areas where
the machinery of our civilization has broken down. Hospitals, some modes of
transportation and manufacturing have experienced similar setbacks. And, oh
yes, our space weaponry has also suffered significant degradation.”

Another
bit of good news, Owens thought.

“To
put it plainly, the Trah-tang technology deployed across the civilized planets
of Golstar is breaking down at an accelerating rate.” The Grand Patriarch
looked at Owens, “I imagine you are about to ask, what is preventing it from
being repaired?”

“Well
yes, why can’t you fix the machines?”

“We
do not possess sufficient knowledge to do so,” the Grand Patriarch said.

The
plot finally thickens, Owens thought, though the Grand Patriarch’s glib answer
didn’t seem plausible. Could it actually be that they used alien technology for
centuries, but never bothered to learn anything beyond its operation?

As if
reading his thoughts, the Grand Patriarch said, “A decision was made long ago
to limit the knowledge associated the inner workings of the alien technology.
Such advanced information could be dangerous in the wrong hands. Under the
Founder’s direction, the sub-Controllers could manufacture and maintain the
alien technologies quite easily, thus relieving our people of an unnecessary
burden.”

So,
Owens thought, the rulers of Golstar didn’t trust their own people. They were
brainwashed and kept ignorant and the ruling class maintained its iron control.
However, as history has often demonstrated, such a lack of trust along with the
assertion of such unilateral power can eventually lead to a civilization’s
downfall. That appeared to be what was now happening to Golstar.

The
Grand Patriarch continued, “It was never contemplated that the availability and
direct access to such knowledge would ever be withdrawn to those rightfully
designated to wield it. Before their withdrawal, the Primes had always
manufactured and maintained the technologies under the wise and benevolent
guidance of the ruling families.”

“Withdrew?”
Owens leaned forward. “Well, that doesn’t seem to fit with our experience on
Selane. The Controller of Prime Two seemed to be functioning all right, at
least well enough to save my life. It practically bragged about its vast
libraries and capabilities. Why can’t you access that one?”

“Ah,
the Prime Two Controller’s intercession on your behalf was unexpected but
perhaps explainable, given whom you are. I may broach that subject later. But
more importantly, we are now finally at the crux of the matter. The Prime below
our feet is one of many such subterranean complexes,” the Grand Patriarch
looked down at the floor. “There is one on each planet of the Golstar system.
They are quite extensive; each complex takes up a significant portion of the
area beneath the planets’ surfaces. Their resources are impressive, almost
unlimited… and to the best of our knowledge,
all
of the Primes are fully
functional.”

“So,”
Owens began. “The problem is...?”

“The
problem is that we have been locked out. We have not been allowed access to the
Primes for the last two centuries.”

● ● ●

Talin
heard more than enough. He was furious as he made his way back to his command
center. He had quietly entered a maintenance room at the outer perimeter of the
Sanctum and through a maintenance console, he could monitor the conversation
taking place within the Hologram room.

He
was tempted to enter the Sanctum and reveal himself, but fortunately more
rational thought prevailed. He remembered the Sanctum still accorded the Grand
Patriarch with certain protections designed into its structure.
 
Had he given into his rash impulse, he had no
doubt his weapon would have been disabled and he rendered completely immobile.
No, he would have to arrange to wrest the Outsider from the Grand Patriarch’s
control at a more opportune time and place.

If he
had any misgivings about what he was about to do before, they were now
completely gone. The Grand Patriarch had clearly lost his sanity. He was no
longer fit to rule. He had to be removed quickly before more damage was done by
his mad scheming.

● ● ●

Owens
asked, “Again, I ask you, how do I fit into all of this?”

“You
are a piece of the key; the most important piece that will allow us to regain
access to the Primes. It is your DNA, or rather I should say, it is the analog
of the Founder’s DNA that will open the door long closed to us.”

“DNA
is a key?”

“A
piece of the key, yes,” the Grand Patriarch nodded. “After the Founder first
achieved contact with the Controller of Prime Two on Selane, a pact was made.
In exchange for certain commitments agreed to by the Founder, the vast
knowledge, technologies and manufacturing facilities were made available to the
ruling families on behalf of our people.”

Owens
could imagine the elation the original elite classes must have felt when given
exclusive access to what was a virtually unlimited power. He looked towards
Sharné and was surprised by the look of shock on her face.

“A
method was designed by the Founder as a means of check and balance,” the Grand
Patriarch continued.  “It was a unique key that would be used once every
five solar years to reconfirm ongoing access to the technologies, along with
the manufacturing and repair functions provided by the Primes. If the key was
not used within the proscribed period, the Primes would cease to interface with
the outside. It provided an insurance policy against unauthorized access.”

More
like a dead man’s switch, Owens thought. Kill the Founder and you kill the
golden goose. He also imagined the Founder could just as easily have denied
access to the Primes, had he so desired. He was in sole control of the alien
technology and as a result, the power he had wielded was absolute.

“You
can see why it is so important you are here now. You, Janus Owens, are half of
the key.”

“Yeah,
I certainly can,” Owens replied. “May I ask, what’s the other half of the key?”

He
smiled at Owens. “Another closely guarded secret, but given your situation, I
think I may provide you some further enlightenment. I will only tell you that
it is a simple numerical sequence comprised of the birth and death dates of the
Founder’s parents and maiden aunt, in the order of their occurrence. It is
something not written in history texts or easily discovered.”

“So,
how does it work? Punch in the numbers and provide a drop of blood?”

“The
Grand Patriarch smiled, “Close. After specific sections of DNA strands of the
living
person have been verified by the
Controller, then that very same person must recite the numerical key before
access can be attained.”

“I
see, so only the living Founder, or his doppelganger, could activate the key.
Not a very trusting soul, was he? ”

The
Grand Patriarch ignored Owens’ comment, “Do you have any more questions?”

A lot
more, Owens thought. He said, “I find it strange the Founder would not realize
that such a key would be short-lived; that with the end of his life, so too
would end the usefulness of the key.”

The
Grand Patriarch nodded, “It raises an interesting question, one that was
explored generations ago. We believe the Founder fully intended to change the
key’s access configuration. We believe the original concept was simply an
expeditious way to secure the alien technology from unsanctioned access.”

“But
something happened,” Owens said. “The key wasn’t changed. Why did the Founder
fail to change it?”

The
Grand Patriarch frowned at the word ‘fail’ being attributed to the Founder. “He
did not fail in anything. However…” he conceded, “the establishment of a
successful, thriving colony was most taxing. The Founder was the spiritual,
political and military leader of our people. His preoccupation with our
survival took precedent over many other considerations, including the access
key to the Primes. Naturally, he guided and directed the use of the Primes’
resources constantly during the colony’s formative years. Even so, a good
number of years passed before the Founder again gave any consideration to
change the basis for the key.”

“Something
serious must have happened before he could make the change,” Owens ventured.

“Yes,
it is remembered as one of the darkest days in the history of the Light, a true
tragedy for our colony. He was mortally injured in a transport accident only
seventy-five years after the colony was founded.”

Owens
rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “You’ll forgive me, but that doesn’t seem to add
up. Sharné told me that Golstar was founded over five centuries ago.
Confederated Planets was rebuffed by Golstar, using what I now understand as
alien technology, around three centuries ago. You just said that the Founder
died only seventy-five years after the colony was established. Yet you appear
to have used the Trah-tang technology for at least a hundred and twenty-five
years after your Founder’s death. I don’t see…”

The
Grand Patriarch interjected, “How we accessed the Primes after his death?”

“That’s
my question, yes.”

The
Grand Patriarch smiled. “I did not say the Founder died, I said the Founder
suffered a mortal injury. Over seventy percent of his body was burned in the
accident. However, the doctors were fortunate and were able to stabilize the
Founder temporarily, but without a miracle, he would eventually die.”

 “I
still don’t get it.”

“He
was placed in cryogenic suspension.”

They
made him a corpscicle, Owens thought. Then the implication dawned on him. “You
thawed him out. Whenever you needed access, you revived him! Afterward, you
refroze him until the next time he was needed.” He stopped, his mind racing.
“But why couldn’t his body and organs be re-grown?”

“Unfortunately,
it happened at a formative stage of the colony’s development. There were basic
medical services available, of course. However, we had not yet constructed the
advanced medical facilities sufficient for such a task.”

Owens
asked, “What about the Primes? Couldn’t their technology have helped?”

The
Grand Patriarch shook his head regretfully, “The Trah-tang sciences were
directed in other fields of endeavor. The medical knowledge they did possess
was exclusively focused on the Trah-tang physiology and was interestingly
deficient in many areas of genetics. In any case, although quite capable of raw
research, lacking the trained personnel, we could not task the Primes to
advance the field of human medicine.”

 Bullshit,
Owens thought. He suspected that the ruling classes were quite content for the
Founder to remain in his frozen state. “Alright, then why didn’t you just have
him change the code during one of his wakeful periods?”

“It
was once attempted, but it failed. Keep in mind that the machine intelligences
controlling the Primes are alien. Their logic pathways do not necessarily map
to human analogs. Too late, it was discovered that once the code key was set, it
was considered permanent from the Controllers’ perspective. All attempts to
reason with the alien intelligences failed.”

“Okay,
so even if the Founder had not been injured, he wouldn’t have been able to
change the key as he had originally planned. In any case, you were stuck.
However, even with the Founder’s accident, you were still able access and
direct the Primes by periodically awakening him. Something else must have gone
wrong. What happened since the encounter with Confederated Planets?”

“The
Founder was involved in another, final accident.”

Owens’
sense of credibility was beginning to fray.

“To
this day, no one is sure. A mechanism malfunctioned at the center where the
Founder was being maintained. The alarm system failed, and the malfunction went
unreported. A coolant pump failed. It started an electrical fire and it spread
to the oxygen storage room. The temperatures must have been incredible for we
were unable to recover even trace DNA material. Curiously, not a single hair
follicle could be found at his old residence.”

Something
tripped in Owens' mind and another piece of the puzzle slipped into place, but
he would not reveal his latest revelation. Instead, he said, “The logic is
still not working for me. Before the center blew up, a lot of time had passed.
Your medical capabilities should have drastically improved by then. Why didn’t
you cure or clone him before the mishap?”