The Cyber Chronicles IV - Cyborg (29 page)

"What are you
doing?"

"Giving you a
drip of vitamin and mineral supplement, along with some energy.
It's an intravenous meal. I fed Alpha like this. He couldn't
swallow. You need it. It will make you feel better."

"Good, then I
don't have to eat cyber rations."

"Yeah, you
still do." Tarl inserted the needle and taped it in place, then
adjusted the drip.

"How long did
you keep Alpha alive?"

"Six months.
He was dying of heart failure, anyway, because of the internal
armour around it. When Alpha's heart weakened, his lungs filled
with fluid. I had to kill him, or watch him drown."

"Why didn't
you buy an old, healthy cyber?" Tassin asked.

Tarl shook his
head. "Myon Two keeps track of cybers, as you probably know. When a
cyber reaches retirement age, they approach the owners and
basically demand that they sell him back for the retirement
price."

"Why?"

"Because they
want the control unit and the barrinium plating back."

"Those are the
valuable bits," Sabre muttered.

"That's where
you're wrong. Even though it took a long time to develop, and it's
not so easy to make, a control unit is not the valuable part of a
cyber. The host is. A control unit is fitted to many hosts, but it
takes twenty years to produce a host." He paused, gazing down at
Sabre. "Would you mind if I examined you?"

Sabre
shrugged. "Knock yourself out. Just no more injections."

Chapter Fifteen

Tarl pulled
the machine with the flexible arm back to the couch and removed the
U-shaped end, replacing it with the flat one. He sat in his chair,
positioned it over Sabre's head and switched on the screen. Tassin
found the ghostly image of Sabre's skull quite unsettling, but also
fascinating. His flesh was a faint paleness surrounding whiter
bones, and the barrinium shone like silver. Tarl moved the flat
disk slowly down Sabre's chest, first his right side, pausing at
his rib cage to point out the two half-healed ribs and the bony
scar where his arm had been broken long ago. Reaching his feet,
Tarl moved the disk back up Sabre's left side, his expression
becoming more and more incredulous.

"You're
perfect. I can't find a single flaw." He held up his hand when
Tassin opened her mouth. "Even A grades have tiny flaws in their
plating. It's practically impossible to get it perfect. Yet his is.
How old are you?"

Sabre looked
vague. "Not sure. About twenty-eight I think."

"Add time
spent in cold sleep, and you could be thirty."

"Possibly."

"You could be
Darinon's last cyber." Tarl looked excited.

"Which
means?"

"Darinon was a
legendary surgeon, the best Myon Two ever had. He always wanted to
do a perfect job, but with the time constraints it wasn't possible.
He worked at Myon Two for almost forty years, and when he retired,
he demanded to be allowed to work without constraint on his last
cyber. He wanted to do a perfect job. They let him. They said he
chose the best cyber of the batch, and the operation took three
hours longer than usual, but he did it. He made a perfect cyber."
Tarl moved the disk to Sabre's right hand. "Look at that. Every
finger perfect. That's excellent work."

"If the
plating is made beforehand and inserted, then bonded to the bones,
what causes flaws?" Tassin asked.

"Sabre told
you that?"

"Yes."

Tarl gazed at
the screen. "You make it sound so simple. But it's the time
constraint that causes most of the mistakes, others are just
carelessness." He switched off the machine and pushed the disk
away, moving closer to Sabre's head. "They start on the skull,
cutting the skin open here, here, and here." He indicated the thin
pale scars that ran down the centre of Sabre's brow to half way
down his nose, and the two that ran along his cheek bones.

"Each piece of
barrinium is inserted along the bone and fused to it with a small
electrical shock, which also bonds the pieces together. The scalp
is cut open, here." He traced the line of white hair that ran over
the top of Sabre's head. "The barrinium is inserted in pieces here
too, with small holes for the blood vessels that feed the scalp.
Often these aren't done properly, and many cybers have white
patches of hair. The lower grades often have areas with no scalp at
all, where it died due to a lack of blood.

"Next they do
the throat, cutting it open along the sides of his neck and lifting
the skin to insert the mesh. Small blood vessels reconnect
afterwards through the mesh. Then they cut open his chest and ribs,
encasing the heart in mesh before they reinforce the ribs and add
the mesh under the skin of his chest. After that they do the limbs
and finally the spine.

"Each piece is
inserted next to the bone, which they scrape clean to ensure that
the barrinium bonds with it. The flaws happen when they don't get
the bones clean enough, and there are areas where the barrinium
fails to bond. This isn't serious; he'd still be a grade A, but all
too often the plating isn't placed perfectly. It's out of position,
leaving gaps at the top or bottom, and protruding pieces, which can
interfere with movement."

He paused,
eyeing Sabre, who watched him with a peculiar, unreadable
expression. "The real flaws are nerve damage, when a surgeon
pinches or even cuts a nerve when they're opening the host up,
resulting in loss of sensation or even movement. These are
C-grades. But they're doomed to be lower grades even before they
come to the operating table, and there are different grades of
surgical teams.

"The less
experienced surgeons get hosts that are already flawed, either
blind or deaf, or, in some cases, have nervous twitches from
improper hook placement. Others are damaged in training accidents,
when they break bones or strain their hearts with too vigorous
exercise. The ones with damaged hearts often die during the
operation."

Tassin felt
sick. "It all sounds macabre, and like most of them are badly
damaged before they're even sold."

Tarl nodded.
"Most are. That's what makes Sabre unusual. Someone spent a lot of
time and a great deal of trouble on him. But even the damaged ones
are excellent killing machines, loss of sensation, blindness,
deafness or misalignment of the plating doesn't affect their
performance. Nerve damage and missing plating does. Quite often
they don't bother to reinforce all the finger bones of the left
hand, and they rarely bother with the toes."

"But Sabre's
toes are ..."

"Yeah. Every
last one."

Tassin cast
Sabre a smile. "See? You are special. Unique."

"Wonderful."

"I heard that
Darinon singled out a host for his final operation years before,
and ensured that he was not damaged," Tarl said.

Sabre frowned.
"The blue tag."

"The
what?"

"I had a blue
tag on my right wrist. No one else did."

"Then you're
the one." Tarl shook his head in wonder. "That's incredible. You
become the only cyber to get free, and you're Darinon's perfect
one."

"Aren't I the
lucky one?"

"You have
every right to be bitter, but it means that you're the best cyber
ever produced, superior to all other A-grades."

"I feel so
privileged."

"Why didn't
Darinon keep him?" Tassin asked.

"He intended
to. It was to have been his retirement gift, but he died a year
after he retired, while Sabre was undergoing his final two years of
training. They say the years spent in heavy gravity weakened his
heart, and it failed."

"What a
shame," Sabre muttered.

Tarl turned to
the bank of machines again, and a great clang echoed through the
ship, making Tassin jump.

Sabre's brow
band flashed. "There are five armed men outside, with a
vehicle."

Tarl glanced
at him. "Sounds like my shipment has arrived. You only noticed them
now?"

"I wasn't
watching. I have a few other things on my mind."

"Right. Stay
here, I'll go and sort it out."

Tarl left,
closing the door, and Tassin perched beside Sabre, smiling down at
him. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy."

"Did hearing
that... upset you?"

"I knew it
already. Not the part about Darinon, but the rest."

"You are
special, you know. If for no other reason, you're special to
me."

He sighed. "If
I'm special at all, it's because of you. I'm the only cyber who's
ever been befriended by a queen."

She smiled.
"How do you feel about that, now that you have your memories
back?"

"Much as I did
before, only with the added bonus of knowing that your feelings for
me have put you in extreme danger."

Her face fell.
"I thought you'd be happy."

"I am... but
I'm not worth it. Saving me has earned you a death sentence,
Tassin. Myon Two will hunt you down. You deserve a friend who knows
how to make you happy, to make you laugh. How to take care of you.
I don't. I only know how to kill."

"Having you as
my friend makes me happy, and if you... care for me too, I'll be
ecstatic. You do know how to take care of me. You looked after me
all that time on Omega Five."

He closed his
eyes. "One day... you'll hate me." His words were slurred.

"How can you
say that?"

Kole stepped
closer, shaking his head. "Leave him, he's drugged. You won't get
much sense out of him now."

"How can he
say such things?"

Kole shrugged.
"He's -"

The door slid
open, and two brutal looking men armed with laser cannons shoved
Tarl in, sending him staggering. Two more followed, aiming lasers
at Tassin and Kole. Sabre sat up and yanked the needle from his
arm, slid off the couch and fell to his knees. His eyes were
glazed, and, when he tried to stand up he staggered sideways,
collided with the wall and slid down it to sit on the floor,
swaying. Tassin wondered if Tarl had betrayed them, but a glance at
his stiff, grim expression dispelled that idea. The men with the
laser cannons aimed them at Sabre, and a short, stocky man with a
well-trimmed black beard entered, his green eyes scanning the room.
His hair, slicked back with gel, had an unnatural sheen to it, and
a broad nose, thick brows and slack wet lips coarsened his square
countenance. A rich, blue satin shirt, black velvet trousers and
shimmering, well-cut jacket clad his rotund form.

"Well, well,
what have we here?" He chortled. "So, Mandure was right, Tarl,
you've brought me a bonus."

"You hate
Mandure," Tarl said.

"Hmmm. Yes, I
do. But I never turn down a lucrative business proposition. He went
through the right channels, and asked politely for his property to
be returned to him. Or half of it, at least. Whether or not I will
remains to be seen. But this is a pleasant surprise." His eyes
raked Tassin, then flicked to Sabre. "What's wrong with the
cyber?"

"He's
sedated."

"Excellent.
That makes it easy." He gestured to one of his men, who marched up
to Tassin and pressed a laser to her head. "Now, tell me where the
money is, or she gets hurt." Sabre tried to stand up, but fell over
again. "Order the cyber to stand down; he's not going to do you any
good."

Tassin glanced
at Sabre. "Don't do anything, Cyber."

"Good. Now,
where's the money?"

"Why are you
doing this?"

"I'm asking
the questions, sweetie." He turned to Kole. "Would you like to see
her fingers broken?"

He shook his
head. "It's in the cyber's medical pouch."

"Wonderful.
Bring them to me. Any funny business, and she dies." Kole went over
to Sabre and dug the translucent wafers out of his pouch, handing
them to Gaylor, who tucked them away in his jacket. "Right, now you
can transfer the cyber to me, or I'll just kill him. Your
choice."

"We'll
transfer him."

"Marvellous.
Where's the code sheet?"

"I can
remember them."

"You'd better,
or she gets a broken finger."

"You can't do
it while he's sedated," Tassin said.

"No. Probably
not." He turned to Tarl. "Give him the antidote."

Tarl shot him
a hate-filled look, went to the cabinet and filled another syringe,
injecting Sabre in the arm.

"What are you
going to do with us?" Tassin demanded.

"That remains
to be seen. Mandure said I could have you, so... I might let you
live, if you co-operate. If you order the cyber to attack us, you
die first, so he won't, anyway."

"What have we
ever done to you?"

"You fell into
my lap, like ripe plums for the plucking. Mandure was more than a
little pissed off that you escaped with his money. His humiliation
makes me inclined to be lenient with you, so don't do anything
stupid."

Sabre raised
his head, staring blankly ahead, and she was glad he had grasped
the situation despite the drug.

Gaylor nodded
to Kole. "Right, he seems to be alert now."

Kole addressed
Sabre. "Cyber, serial number XZD-4987-LP6493. Command input,
authorisation password... moonlight. Initiate transfer
protocol."

"Password
accepted. Transfer protocol initiated," Sabre intoned.
"Proceed."

"New owner
is..."

"Gaylor
Travard." Gaylor supplied.

"New owner is
Gaylor Travard. Transfer codes are midnight... planet, velocity,
picture, rapture, star burn."

"Codes valid,
transfer accepted. Proceed with voice imprint."

Kole glanced
at Gaylor, who said, "I do love it when things go my way."

"Voice imprint
accepted. Transfer complete."

"Excellent,
another cyber for my stable." His eyes roamed over Tassin in a
manner that sickened her. "So, what else do you have to offer?"