The Cyber Chronicles Book II: Death Zone (32 page)

"Tassin,
there's no need to try to climb into my skin. It's just a pack of
wolves, and they can't get in, okay?"

An
unintelligible mumble, muffled by his neck, answered him.

"What?"

She turned her
head. "Is it too much to expect a little comfort from you in a
dangerous situation?"

"Just a few
minutes ago, you were throwing pots at my head."

"Things
change."

"Don't they
just? Come on, ease up, you're giving me a cramp."

Tassin looked
up, her face centimetres from his, and Sabre turned his head away.
Tension filled the shell's cramped confines.

"Are you so
heartless?"

"No."

Tassin pulled
back to study him, and Sabre extricated himself, moving away to
lean against the curving wall.

"You find
intimate situations strange, don't you?" she asked.

He scowled,
irritated by her astute deduction. Was he so transparent? "Of
course I do. I haven't exactly had a lot of experience with that
sort of thing."

"And how will
you ever gain any, if you avoid it?"

He shrugged.
"Perhaps I don't want any. What good would it do me?"

"You may learn
what it is to be human."

"My being
human has only ever led to disaster."

"That's no
reason to shun it. Do you think I want you to be like the
cyber?"

"I don't have
to... just leave it, okay?" He met her eyes, and she looked away.
Sabre leant his head against the shell and tried to relax.

If only Sabre
was not a commoner, or, at least, not so handsome, Tassin mused. A
thought struck her, and she asked, "Sabre, the man you were...
cloned from, what do you know about him?"

A bitter smile
twisted his lips. "Not much, but he was only a dirty commoner, so
you can forget that little idea too."

"I'm just
trying to make conversation to distract myself from the situation,
that's all."

"Yeah, right.
Why don't you accept that you're no longer a queen? You can never
return to Arlin, and even if we find a country populated by a
monarchy, you have no proof of who you are. We're just a couple of
wanderers now. Wouldn't you be happier if you accepted that and
lived a normal life?"

"You mean
become a commoner."

He sighed.
"You've lived as a commoner since we left Arlin. Has it been so
bad?"

"I was raised
to be a queen. How can I forget that?"

"But you can't
be a queen here. What will you do, spend the rest of your life
searching for a prince to marry?"

She bit her
lip, her heart heavy. "I'll not be happy until I rule Arlin again.
That's what I was born to do. How can I live as a commoner, knowing
that I'm a queen?"

"How can you
go back, knowing that Torrian's waiting for you?"

"I don't
know." She frowned and turned away.

Sabre listened
to the silence outside, wondering why the snail remained closed. A
glance at the scanners showed him that all of the wolves were
gathered around one snail, and the realisation hit him like a
slap.

"Shit! They've
found a way in."

"What?" Tassin
looked up in surprise.

"The wolves.
They must have found a way into one of the snails."

"What makes
you say that? Maybe they've left?"

Sabre shook
his head. "No, I can see them on the scanners. They're all around
one snail." He paused, frowning. "And there are four people inside
it."

"Do you think
they will survive?"

"Perhaps." He
nodded at the wall of flesh that filled the shell behind him.
"These are very big creatures. I doubt even thirty-two wolves could
eat their way through all that. Maybe we'll just have to dig them
out when the wolves have gorged themselves and left. But how can
wolves eat an alien creature like this? It's poisonous to
them."

"They're just
animals. Maybe they don't realise."

"That's
possible, I suppose."

"Maybe it's
the mage!" she said.

"I don't think
he has the power to do this. Those animals aren't illusions.
Besides, I don't see him on the scanners; all the people are inside
snails."

As they
waited, the light within the snail faded from the dull illumination
of the sunlight permeating the shell to the dim light of the algae.
The snail was not going to open until the wolves had feasted and
left, Sabre surmised. Tassin fell asleep, and he dozed against the
wall.

The cyber’s
chronometer told Sabre it was noon, local time, when a soft
slithering sound alerted him to the fact that the snail was
re-emerging. The wall of flesh receded, moving around the curve of
the shell. He woke Tassin, and they followed it. The snail extended
its foot far out of its home, allowing sunlight to flood in through
the gap. Once its foot had a firm grip on the earth, it pulled the
shell upright, and they jumped onto its back. Sabre clapped his
hands, and the beast drew aside its flesh to open the passage.

Outside, a
balmy breeze ruffled the tranquil, rolling grasslands. He
stretched, glad to be out in the fresh air. All the snails were
either re-emerging or already out, waving their feelers in an
agitated manner. Clon trotted past, and Sabre and Tassin followed
him to the edge of the herd, where a crowd gathered around a
terrible sight.

A snail shell
lay on its side, a huge area of blood-stained grass surrounding it.
Long strings of sinew hung from it, and chunks of gristle clung to
the inside, where the snail's body had been attached to its home.
All sign of its inhabitants was gone, save for the shreds of
inedible flesh. Clon stood amongst the gathering crowd, tears in
his eyes, and many people sobbed and wailed.

Sabre
approached him. "Who was it?"

Clon wiped his
eyes. "Milla and Derk, and their two children, Sten and Clia."

Sabre stared
at the empty shell. "I thought you said it was safe in the
snails?"

"It is. This
happens rarely. Mostly the wolves don't find a weak snail. I warned
Derk. Their snail was very old. They should have moved into a
younger one, then they would have been all right. This snail also
had a chunk taken out of his door at the last breeding season. They
liked him because he was so big, and they needed space for the
children. They should have moved!" Clon's face twisted with
grief.

Sabre vaguely
remembered a blond man and a brown-haired woman, their children
about twelve and eight years old. "I'm surprised terrestrial wolves
eat these animals."

The chief
looked bitter. "Those were no ordinary wolves. Some say that they
come from some sort of Zone, far to the south. They're as big as
ponies, and they eat anything."

Sabre thought
about the weeks he and Tassin had camped in the grasslands,
oblivious to the danger. No wonder Clon had insisted they stay in a
snail. Now Tassin wanted to move on, which meant camping again. He
wondered if the magician had fallen foul of the wolves, which would
account for his absence.

"Are there
many of these wolves around?"

Clon shrugged.
"Who knows? Probably quite a few, since they have no natural
enemies. We can't kill them, and even the men from Malkil with
their pre-war weapons would rather leave them alone. It's not often
that they kill a snail, so their visits to herds are few, and
casualties rare. They're one of the reasons our ancestors started
living in the snails. As the wolves grew bigger and more prolific,
they became more of a threat. The snails offered not only a
comfortable house, but protection from those monsters as well."

"You can't
guide the snails, can you?"

"No, they go
where they will, but they always stick together. Unless the herd
splits, of course."

"Why do they
stay in herds?"

Clon scowled.
"This is a hell of a time for a lesson in snails, Sabre."

"I'm sorry.
I'll ask another time."

"Do that."

Sabre walked
back to Tassin, who stared at the snail shell with wide eyes, a
hand over her mouth. On the way, he stopped to examine a bloody paw
print that was larger than his spread hand, and deeply pressed into
the soil. He took Tassin's arm and led her away, answering her
questions about its erstwhile occupants.

"This poses a
problem for us, you know,” he said.

"Why?"

"Because you
want to leave, and that means camping again."

"Oh. So what
do we do? I don't want to be a snail woman for the rest of my
life."

"I might have
a solution, but I have to ask Clon a few questions to see if it'll
work, and he's not feeling too much like talking now."

They returned
to their snail, which grazed again with the rest of the herd. As
they had seen many of the snail people do, they sat on its tail in
the sun while the grass moved past.

By
mid-afternoon, the empty shell had been left behind, and Clon
joined them, climbing onto the door. His face was still haggard and
furrowed, but he apologised for his shortness earlier.

"You wanted to
know why the snails move in herds?"

Sabre
nodded.

"As far as I
know, it's a social gathering, for company, and to have others to
mate with."

"So a snail
would be okay on its own?"

Clon shrugged.
"Sure, I don't see why not. When they come from the sea they spend
many months travelling alone."

"Do the wolves
live in the forests?"

"I don't think
so. They mostly prey on the grazing beasts that inhabit the
grasslands. There's not much for them to eat in the forests, I
suppose, most animals there live in the trees."

"Is this a
strong snail?" Sabre patted the tail on which they sat.

"Oh yes, she's
a young snail, very strong, as you saw last night." Clon paused.
"Why do you ask? Are you worried about the wolves returning?
Because it's unlikely that they will for a very long time, and even
then, you'll be safe in her."

"No, it's not
that. Tassin wants to look for people who are similar to her
culture. But now we know it's dangerous to camp in the grasslands,
so I was planning on taking the snail."

The chief
snorted. "Impossible. There's no way to make her leave the herd, or
to guide her."

"I have a
way."

"Oh?"

Sabre tapped
the brow band. "I explained about this, and one of the things it
can do is control animals."

"Amazing."
Clon looked awe struck.

"So if I guide
the snail to the edge of the forests, where we'll be safe, she'll
find and join another herd?"

"Yes." He
shook his head in admiration. "That's a mighty handy tool, that
cyber band."

Sabre quelled
a grimace of distaste and nodded. He had not told Clon that the
cyber had once controlled him, and he had been its tool. The chief
gazed at the receding shell of the slain snail, now small in the
distance.

"It's a pity
you want to leave, though. Our tribe is a small one. New faces are
so welcome."

"This is not
the life for us, pleasant though it is,” Sabre said. “Tassin's not
happy here. We're not snail people; we must rejoin our own
kind."

"Where will
you go?"

"Back to the
forests, then maybe east, to see what's there. If beyond Malkil
there's only sea, there's really nowhere else to go."

Clon nodded.
"When will you leave?"

"Tonight. At
the moment, the herd is heading away from where we want to go, so
the sooner we turn the snail, the better."

The chief
sighed, deep furrows appearing between his brows. "We have two
things to mourn tonight, then. The feast will be a big one. I'd
better tell the others." He jumped down and walked off.

A subdued,
mournful atmosphere dominated the gathering that night. The people
muttered while they ate, and the children huddled close to their
parents. The story-tellers told of heroism and tragic past
encounters with wolves. Couples approached Sabre and Tassin to say
goodbye, some tearful, even though they hardly knew them. Many of
them pressed gifts of food, pottery, and skins into Sabre's
hands.

When the time
came to leave, the tribe gathered to see them off, and Clon patted
the snail's shell.

"Look after
her, and don't try to drive her into the forest. She'll get stuck
between the first two trees."

"I'll try to
remember." Sabre smiled.

Shan was
absent, which surprised Sabre, since he had been closer to them
than anyone else. When he asked Clon where the young hunter was,
the chief's face fell.

"Derk was
Shan's older brother. He's in his snail, mourning."

"Oh. Please
tell him how sorry we are for the death of his brother, and bid him
farewell."

"I will."

Sabre rapped
on the shell, and Tassin followed him inside. He walked to the rear
of the shell and sat with his back to the smooth wall, facing the
beast's head. Tassin dithered for a bit, not sure where to sit.
Clearly she did not want to be in the direct influence of the cyber
band. She settled against the side.

Sabre closed
his eyes and thought about Tassin's wish to find a more suitable
people to live with, and the danger of the wolves, then the idea of
turning the snail and guiding it to the forest. In the past, the
cyber had reacted to the situation they were in, but on this
occasion he had to communicate his, or rather, Tassin's, wishes to
the AI. It did not need any explanation of what had to be done, and
he sensed the green flashes within his mind that indicated its
understanding. A vivid blue glow replaced the brow band's
flickering red, and the deep vibrations began, a low, near silent
hum. At first there seemed to be no reaction, then the muscular
rhythms of the snail's back quickened and changed as the great
beast turned.

Sabre opened
his eyes and looked at Tassin without turning his head. "We're on
our way."