The Cyber Chronicles V - Overlord (28 page)

"Maybe we can
get your drugs back, too."

"Well sure,
they might." He looked puzzled. "Then I'd owe you three quarters of
a million credits, and I don't have it."

"No, then you'd
owe me passage to Toron, and we'd have to leave in a hurry, I
suspect."

"That's nuts.
Is there something wrong with him?"

"No."

"Then why would
you do this?"

Tassin glanced
at Tarl, who shook his head, his expression grim. When she looked
at Sabre, he blinked. "Give us a moment to confer, would you?"

"Sure." Kernan
and his crewman retreated out of earshot, where they talked
softly.

Tassin faced
Tarl. "What's the problem? We use false codes, Sabre pretends to be
transferred, and we get the girl and the drugs. Then he sneaks out
of their camp and rejoins us here."

"And while he's
away, pretending to belong to these sand runners, we're
vulnerable."

"You have a
point,” she said. “What do you think, Sabre?"

"It will work
if we go to the sand runners without Kernan and his crew and make
the exchange, then you hold the girl until I return and we come
here together."

"Are you okay
with that?"

He inclined his
head. "It's not a bad plan."

"Or Sabre could
just stick a laser in Kernan's ear, and we'll be on our way to
Toron in a few minutes," Tarl said.

Tassin shot him
a frown. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"We'll need
transport," Sabre pointed out.

"I think Kernan
should provide that."

Tassin beckoned
to Kernan, who strode back, glancing between them. "Well?"

"We'll do it,
but we need transport."

"We have a sand
hopper." He paused, scowling. "What's the catch?"

"No catch.
Except you're not coming with us."

"But... why
not?"

"That's the
deal, take it or leave it."

"I'll take it,
of course, but it makes no sense." He shook his head. "Will you
explain it?"

"Perhaps when
we get back."

"All right."
Kernan turned to his crewman. "Bring the sand hopper around."

"Captain, how
do we know they're not just going to steal it?"

Tarl snorted.
"Wow, there's a lot of trust around here."

"Just do it,"
Kernan ordered.

The crewman
left, and Tassin asked Kernan, "Why did you lie?"

He shrugged.
"Most of the men on this planet are thieves or pirates, and they
wouldn’t go up against the sand runners to rescue a woman. Nothing
to steal, you see, and I couldn’t offer a huge reward for their
help. They might have done it if they thought they could steal the
shipment of drugs, though. If you’d agreed to get the drugs back,
I’d have let you keep them and gone along to rescue the girl."

"Yet you were
dealing with a woman."

"I thought I
was dealing with him." Kernan jerked his chin at Tarl.

"But I own the
cyber."

"So he said,
but that didn't make it true."

"Why would he
lie?"

Kernan sighed,
gazing into the distance with narrowed eyes. "On Endroad, you just
assume everyone's lying. You're more likely to be right. I don't
live here, I just trade with them, but in my experience, women on
Endroad don't own anything, least of all a cyber. I figured he was
just trying to throw me, so I pretended to believe him, until it
became obvious that it was true."

The crewman
returned, driving a battered open vehicle with four seats, rubber
wheels and crash bars. For some unknown reason, it had a banana
painted on its bonnet. Sabre got behind the controls, Tassin
settled beside him and Tarl climbed into the back seat. Kernan gave
them directions to the sand runners' camp, and the vehicle set off
with a jerk, bumping over the rough ground. On the way through the
city, they stopped to rent a filthy cabin in a rusted wreck, where
Tassin and Tarl would wait for Sabre's return.

Chapter Eighteen

The sand
runners’ camp proved to be a collection of tatty brown tents
pitched in a dry riverbed several kilometres outside the city. A
trio of hostile men clad in dark, ragged clothes stepped into the
road when the sand hopper approached, forcing Sabre to stop. Once
the guards had summoned their leader, whose sole distinguishing
feature was a bionic eye, negotiations went swiftly. The sand
runners handed over a young girl clad in a torn, filthy dress, and
a box filled with packets of white powder was placed on the back of
the sand hopper.

Under the
watchful gaze of dozens of suntanned, hard-looking men with their
weapons at the ready, Tarl went through the ritual of the transfer,
using incorrect codes and passwords. Sabre had found a black
plastic box that bore a resemblance to an override, and Tarl kept
it half concealed in his hand, but ensured that the sand runners
spotted it. Leaving Sabre in the camp gave Tassin several nasty
qualms, and her heart was a lump of lead all the way back to the
city.

They settled
down to wait in the bare, cramped cabin. Tarl administered first
aid to the dazed girl, who was silent and compliant. Trina was
pretty in a half-starved way, Tassin thought, with slanted brown
eyes, lank brown hair, fine features and grimy tanned skin. The
ragged, pale green dress hung from her thin shoulders, paler skin
and bruises visible through the rips in it. Compared to the pretty
girls who sold themselves at the bars they had visited, she was
plain, and Tassin wondered what Kernan saw in her. Perhaps she had
a vibrant personality, she mused, although it was not in evidence,
but then, she had just been through a terrible ordeal.

Sabre appeared
shortly after midnight, panting from his run but otherwise
unscathed, to Tassin's immense relief. They all piled back into the
sand hopper and raced for the ship, even though Sabre assured them
the sand runners had not seen him leave the camp. The cyber
hammered on the hatch until Kernan opened it, and his guarded
expression changed to joy at the sight of the girl. His mouth
dropped open when Sabre carried the box of drugs on board.

"But -"

"Take off,"
Tassin ordered.

"How -?"

"Now," Tarl
said.

Kernan turned
and bellowed, "Kaylar! Get the sand hopper stowed, right now!"

The red-haired
crewman appeared moments later, rumpled and sleepy. He also gaped
at Sabre as he hurried past on his errand. The captain led them to
the bridge, holding the girl at his side with a tender arm. Kernan
summoned a second crewman to help fly the ship, and introduced him
as Pryan, a tall, blue-eyed young man with limp sandy hair that
continually flopped into his eyes. He had a narrow, intelligent
face, and also wore a faded orange jumpsuit.

Kernan guided
Trina to a seat at the side of the bridge and strapped her into it.
He and Pryan settled into the contoured pilots' seats and began a
complicated ritual to power up the aged space ship. Its interior
proved to be just as battered and worn as the hull, with threadbare
carpets and scuffed plastic flooring, some of which had been worn
away to bare metal. The walls displayed decades of ingrained grime
that not even modern cleaning chemicals could remove. By the time
Kaylar returned from his chore, a deep growl emanated from the old
ship's bowels, and vibrations ran through it.

"Everyone grab
a chair and strap in," Kernan instructed as he adjusted the various
knobs and dials on the broad console in front of him. Tassin and
Tarl went to a row of seats at the rear of the bridge, where Sabre
helped Tassin with her belt before strapping himself into the seat
beside her. The growl rose to a roar, and Tassin plugged her ears
as the old ship shuddered. The roaring lasted for several minutes,
then died away to a steady rumble. Stars moved past the screens at
the front of the bridge.

"Setting course
for Toron Seven," Kernan announced, punching buttons and turning
dials. "Auto pilot engaged."

"Check," Pryan
intoned.

"First pulse in
two minutes."

"Engines are
green to go. Pulse drive online."

Kernan flipped
a bank of switches. "Boosters engaged."

"Check. Green
board."

"Shutting down
main engine burn in three, two, one... shut down."

"Check, main
engine shut down."

The rumble died
away, leaving an eerie silence broken by clicking, creaking and an
occasional beep. A few tense moments passed, then Kernan pushed
more buttons on his console. He frowned at a flashing red light and
banged it until it turned green.

"Auto pilot
locked on."

"Check," Pryan
said, leaning forward to peer into a dark screen. "Range to
destination, seven point eight light years. Pulse intensity input
max, required amount, three. Good to go."

Kernan flipped
open a capped button and held his thumb over it. "First pulse...
now."

A giant thud
shook the ship, making Tassin jump and grab Sabre's hand. The stars
in the screens smeared and began to stream past like watercolours
in the rain.

"Green board,"
Pryan pronounced.

"Pulse drive
charging." Kernan stared at a red light until it went off and a
green one replaced it. "Pulse drive charged. Second pulse...
now."

A second huge
thud rattled the ship, and the streams of stars became brighter and
thicker.

Tassin turned
to Sabre and whispered, "What's going on?"

"This is a
pulse drive ship. It builds up a vast electromagnetic charge, then
expels it backwards, propelling the ship forward. It's only capable
of travelling a light year in a day, no faster."

"Green board,"
Pryan stated again.

"Pulse drive
charging... Charged. Third pulse... now."

The third thud
vibrated a coffee cup off a counter, and it hit the steel floor
with a shrill clatter, making Tassin jump again. The screens filled
with blinding light, and dark shields slid across them when Kernan
pushed a button.

"Green board,"
Pryan said, smiling. "Maximum speed achieved."

Kernan nodded.
"Auto pilot locked on destination." He leant back and swivelled his
chair to face Trina, who stared into space. Freeing himself from
his safety belt, he rose and bent to stroke the tangled hair from
her face, whispering in her ear. He led her off the bridge, and
Pryan and Kaylar unstrapped and relaxed, turning to their
passengers. Sabre unclipped his belt and released Tassin from
hers.

Kaylar eyed him
before addressing Tassin. "I'd ask you what happened, but the
captain will want to hear it, so we'll wait for him."

"We don't owe
you an explanation," Tarl said.

Kaylar nodded.
"That's true. We're just glad to have Trina back. She's special,
you know."

"She's badly
traumatised," Tassin commented.

"Kernan will
give her something to make her sleep."

She stood up.
"We're all tired. Would you show us to our cabins please?"

Kaylar looked
indecisive, then nodded and rose. "I guess you're the boss on this
trip."

They followed
him down a narrow passage to a tidy little cabin with a single
bunk. Tarl took it, and Kaylar showed Tassin and Sabre to another
single cabin.

The crewman
hesitated, raising a brow at her. "Will you share with your cyber?
We don't have a lot of spare cabins."

She nodded.
"This will be fine for us, thank you."

As soon as the
door slid shut, Sabre scanned the room and shook his head. "No
spying devices."

"Good."

The cabin's
grubby walls had, at some stage, benefited from a coat of paint,
for they were less brown than the bulkheads in the corridors and
bridge. A worn brown carpet hid a multitude of stains in its dark
weave, and a spotted mirror hung above a scratched plastic side
table. Most of the recessed lighting was defunct, and a portable
light pole was tied to a pipe under the ceiling. Tassin sat on the
hard bunk, which had a newish looking grey blanket and a soft
pillow, her head heavy with fatigue. Slipping off her shoes, she
stretched out, made as much room as possible and patted the sheet
beside her.

Sabre smiled.
"Thanks, I'll take the floor."

"I don't
bite."

"That's good,
but I'd like to get some sleep."

"Why can't you
sleep here?"

He shook his
head. "Not enough space, and you snore."

"I do not!"

"How would you
know?"

"Ladies don't
snore."

"Then I guess
you're not a lady." He took a pillow from the bed and settled on
the floor.

Tassin frowned
down at him. "What happened in the camp?"

"Not much. The
leader ordered me to shoot some targets and knock out one of his
men for entertainment. They had a celebratory feast, put me on
display for the men to try to poke, got drunk and went to
sleep."

"You weren't
hurt?"

"No."

"I didn't like
doing that, you know."

He smiled and
closed his eyes. "I know."

"I was worried
sick about you."

"You shouldn't
have. I was in no danger as long as the leader thought he owned me.
I'm too valuable to damage."

Tassin climbed
off the bunk with her pillow and blankets and lay down beside him,
leaning on his chest to gaze at him. "Still, it must have been
horrible to be treated like a cyber again."

He sighed.
"Unpleasant, that's all."

She hugged him,
laying her head on his chest. "At least you didn't have to fight
anyone."

"I did give
some of them a few good smacks, for Trina."

"Good."

"Now go to
sleep, I'm tired."

Kernan sat
opposite Sabre at the dining table, watching him eat the rather
tasteless porridge that Kaylar, who seemed to be the ship's
dogsbody, had prepared. Tassin, who sat beside the cyber, added
sugar to hers to give it some flavour. Tarl, at the end of the
table, poured syrup on his. Kaylar and Pryan hung about next to the
stove, looking curious. It amazed Tassin how old-fashioned
everything was on the ageing ship, which had none of the modern
food preparation equipment or recyclable utensils found on newer
vessels. Instead, it had durozene pots, plates and cutlery, and a
washer to clean them in.