The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord (10 page)

"Of course
not,” she said. “I'm reporting for my shift, but, since we're in
couple's quarters, he woke me up banging around, so I figured I
might as well get an early start."

"I see." He
held out a hand. "IDs."

Martis dropped
the casket’s tether and groped in a pocket, frowned and patted
himself all over when he came up empty handed. "Shit! Where's my
ID, Lenar?"

"How should I
know?" Estrelle hunted through her pockets. "Where's mine?"

"You had these
uniforms laundered, didn't you? Did you remember to take the IDs
out of the pockets?" he asked.

"Of course I
did. What do you think I am, an idiot?"

"Well, where
are they then?"

"How should I
know?” she demanded. “You're supposed to look after our IDs, not
me!"

"You forgot to
take them out, didn't you? I'd have remembered if you'd given them
to me, and you didn't."

"I took them
out!" Her voice rose.

"Then where
did you put them?"

"On your
desk!"

Martis cursed.
"If they were on my desk, I'd have put them away."

The enforcer
sighed, lowering his hand. "I can't let you pass without IDs."

"Shit! You'll
have to go fetch them, Lenar," Martis said.

"Why me?”
Estrelle asked. “You're the one who left them behind!"

"This is going
to make me late with this special order. Chief Darvit will be
pissed!"

"And that's my
fault?" She stepped closer and prodded him in the chest. "If you
hadn't been out whoring last night with that slut Sherin, you'd
have found the IDs and put them away, and we wouldn't be in this
shit!"

"I was not out
whoring! I was with Deran and the boys, playing hop-ball!"

"Bullshit, you
stank of cheap whore perfume when you came home last night!"

"That's your
own stink you smelt, because you were draining the cold-bin of
anything alcoholic!" Martis thrust his face closer, pretending to
be on the verge of slapping her.

"Okay! Okay!"
The enforcer held up his hands. "Cut it out. I'll let you pass this
once, but you'd better have your IDs with you tomorrow, or I’ll
call your chief myself."

Estrelle
glowered at Martis. "Whoring bastard."

"Boozing
slut," he growled back, picking up the tether.

The enforcer
returned to his chair and flopped down. "You two should split."

"I intend to!"
Estrelle flung over her shoulder as they walked away.

"Good!" Martis
said. "At least I won't have to put up with your endless nagging
and drunken tantrums!"

They kept the
argument going until they were out of earshot of the enforcer
station, and Martis shot her a smile. "Good pickup, well done."

"I'm surprised
it worked. I thought you got IDs."

"At this time
of night? Not a chance."

The docking
port came into view ahead, lined with stacks of caskets ready to be
loaded onto the shuttle, the door open. Martis boarded and went to
the back of the craft. Choosing a rack, he floated a casket from
the bottom row and clamped Sabre's in its place while Estrelle
towed the other one out. When she came back, he showed her a
cramped area behind the last rack.

"We'll have to
hide here until the shuttle leaves."

"That's an
awfully narrow space."

"There's
nowhere else."

"They won't
check here?"

He shook his
head. "This part of the shuttle has already been loaded; they won't
come here."

"Aren't there
any sensors or security cams?"

"Nope."

"You're
sure?"

"Positive."

Estrelle
squeezed into the narrow gap and sidled along it. "How do you
know?"

"It was my
backup profession, if I didn't make the cut into host
research."

"A worker?"
She raised her brows. "That's about as far from a host researcher
as you could get."

"Yeah, that
was the idea. Host researcher was my dad's choice. I didn't want a
stressful job. A worker may be badly paid, but they don't have to
deal with the kinds of shit we do. I never fancied the idea of
cutting up human beings, even if they were hosts."

"And your dad
let you take it as a backup?"

He eased in
beside her. "He wasn't happy, but the deal was that I got to choose
my backup profession if I went along with his as first choice.
Unfortunately, despite all my efforts to fail, I graduated third in
my class."

"That's too
bad. You'd have made a good worker," she teased.

"Shush, day
shift has just arrived."

They crouched
behind the rack as voices came from the shuttle door. Men brought
in more caskets and clamped them to the racks in the front.

Two hours
later, the last casket was loaded and the workers left. The shuttle
door slid shut and sealed with a soft hiss. Martis stood up and
wormed out of the narrow space, helping Estrelle. She stretched the
kinks out, glad to be free of the confinement, and wondered how
Sabre was doing in the casket. She turned to Martis.

"Do you think
he's all right? Should we let him out?"

"Not yet." He
checked his timepiece. "Still an hour before I said I would. Let's
wait until we're hitched to the drone ship."

They sat on
the floor while the shuttle left the docking port, then moved to
the control centre to gaze out of the screens at the drone ship as
it drew closer. The shuttle made a perfect docking-lock, and the
drone ship powered up, broke orbit and headed for its assigned
photon corridor. Martis went back to the rack at the rear of the
shuttle and unclamped Sabre's casket, floated it out of the rack
and settled it on the floor. Estrelle bit her lip as he tapped the
override code into the unlock pad. The lid popped up with a hiss, a
hairline crack appearing around it. Martis hooked his fingers into
it and lifted the lid, fanning away the mist that arose to peer
within.

Sabre's face
was impassive and the brow band's black crystals unlighted, as if
it had shut down for cold sleep. Martis placed a hand on Sabre's
chest and gave him a little shake. The cyber's eyes opened, looking
distant and sleepy, then the control unit's lights came on. His
gaze sharpened, but he remained prone.

"Is he all
right?" Estrelle asked.

"He's speeding
up his metabolism," Martis explained. "It will only take a
minute."

Several
moments passed, then Sabre sighed, and his breathing quickened. He
sat up, gripped the sides of the casket and lifted himself to his
feet, stepping out. Martis retreated, and Estrelle smiled at the
cyber.

"We did it.
We're off Myon Two."

Sabre glanced
around. "Good... We're on a transport ship?"

"Yes."

"Whose idea
was this?"

"Mine," the
young host tech admitted proudly.

Sabre went
into the control room, the two puzzled techs following. The drone
ship was entering a photon corridor, the stars ahead starting to
brighten. Sabre leant on the console and bowed his head, then faced
the young techs, resting against the panel.

"Are you all
right?" Estrelle asked, alarmed by his pallor.

"I'll be okay.
I'm not that great, right now. Only sixty-one per cent and still a
little dizzy after Jorran's experiment, but otherwise fine."

"It was
horrible, what he did to you. I'm so sorry -"

Sabre held up
a hand. "You did what you could to stop him. I don't blame
you."

"I wish I
could have stopped him, I -"

"I know. Let's
leave that behind, it's in the past. Right now, we have bigger
problems."

Estrelle
frowned. "What problems?"

"Our biggest
problem is that we're on a drone ship."

"Why is that a
problem?"

"It's a drone
ship."

She shook her
head. "I don't understand."

"A drone ship,
also known as a UV: an unmanned vessel?"

"Is this a
quiz?"

He smiled, and
she was struck by the gentle sadness in his eyes. "There's a reason
why it's unmanned."

She noted
Martis’ frown and asked, "To save Myon Two the cost of pilots and
crew?"

"Mmmmmm." He
nodded. "As well as food, water, heating, ablution facilities,
waste disposal, not to mention... air."

"Oh... god."
Estrelle grabbed the console as her legs turned to rubber. "That's
why no one has ever escaped on a drone ship."

"Yeah, that's
why there's hardly any security at a docking port, too. They could
be called death traps. For the ignorant, of course."

Estrelle
turned to Martis, who looked sick. "Why didn't you know about this?
Wasn't it in your worker training?"

"I... No.
Workers never leave the docks."

She sagged
against the console. "Are we going to die? Can you help us,
Sabre?"

The cyber's
brows rose. "I can't manufacture oxygen."

"Could you
call for help?"

He
contemplated the console. "The only form of transmitter a drone
ship has is a data burst beacon to alert the next docking port of
its approach. It has a range of about two light years, and it will
only send the data burst when it reaches its destination.
Everything is automated, its course, speed, and destination."

"But you can
change it with the cyber, can't you?"

"Maybe, but it
won't do you two much good. The next closest inhabited planet is
Ester Five, which is seven hours away, and you two only have about
two hours of air."

"Us two? What
about you?"

Sabre smiled.
"Care to explain, Host Tech Martis?"

"Ah... Right.
Well... Cybers are designed to survive in low oxygen environments,
and he can always go into his casket."

Estrelle shook
her head, casting a pleading look at Sabre. "Please, I know you can
help us."

He sighed,
folding his arms. "Hmmm. A free cyber, help a pair of idiotic Myon
Two torturers... now there's a thought."

"We're not
torturers! We freed you! You..." Estrelle shut her mouth on more
hot words.

"What was
that? I owe you, perhaps?"

"Don't you
think you do?"

Sabre hung his
head, looking exhausted.

Martis seemed
to recover from his shock. "I should have known. I should have
guessed. A drone ship! How could I be so stupid?"

"You - we were
desperate to save Sabre," Estrelle told him. "We didn't have time
to think it through. And there was no other way."

"This isn't a
way. This is suicide."

"For us,
yeah." Estrelle sank down on the floor, her back against the
console. "Could we use two caskets?"

Martis shook
his head. "They're designed to sustain cybers in cold sleep.
There's not enough oxygen for us."

"We're going
to die." Estrelle clamped her hands over her face.

"Not
necessarily," Sabre said.

She looked up.
"You know a way to save us?"

"Yes. A drone
ship has a distress beacon, in case of engine failure, or a meteor
strike, or attack by pirates."

"Great! Let's
activate it!"

Sabre nodded.
"Of course, I'll have to disable a solar wing generator to set it
off."

"Do it
then!"

"And the only
one who'll hear it is Myon Two."

Estrelle
stared at him in despair. "You'll be returned to them."

"And you'll be
sent to prison. But you'll live."

"Prison's...
better than death, I guess. But... they'll turn you into an
idiot."

"Yes, but you
two will live."

Estrelle
frowned at him. "Is this a trust thing?"

"No... Well,
in part, but it's also a courage thing."

"We took a
huge risk to free you, and now you doubt our courage?"

"Okay, you
took a risk, but you thought it was a small one. It's easy to stow
away on a drone ship, and it seems like a really good idea if you
don't know about the air thing," he said. "Now it's turned out to
be a huge risk, a life threatening one. You could ask me to disable
a solar wing and activate the distress signal, that's the easy way
out, or... you could decide to trust me. What's it going to
be?"

"I trust you,"
Martis said.

Sabre raised
his brows. "You do? Without knowing if I can save you?"

"Yes."

"Would you
disable the solar wing if I asked you to?" Estrelle enquired.

"Now that's a
damned good question, isn't it?" Sabre glanced at the screens. "I'm
free, and in no risk of dying, but if I activate the distress
beacon, I get to go back to Myon Two and have my brains fried. But
if I don't, you two will die. You could try asking me, or you could
take a leap of faith, like Martis."

She scowled at
Martis. "Why did you agree so easily?"

"He won't
activate the beacon, Estrelle. Does he look stupid to you?"

"Then he'll
let us die?"

"I don't think
so, but we have to trust him. Only once we've put our lives in his
hands of our own free wills will he trust us."

Sabre smiled.
"Well done, Martis. You're a clever chap."

"But we've
already proven that he can trust us, by getting him off Myon Two!"
she protested.

"Pure female
logic," the cyber said.

Martis shook
his head. "He put his life in our hands. He showed us respect and
trust without knowing that he could. He just wants the same from
us."

"He was
destined to be turned into an idiot and burnt once a week for the
rest of his life. He had a reason to risk trusting us."

"That's true,"
Sabre agreed. "Now you have a choice between death, a Myon Two
prison, or trusting me. What's it going to be?"

She hesitated,
glancing at Martis, who frowned and nodded. "I... Okay. I trust
you."

"Good." The
cyber sat down on the floor, rested his head against the console
behind him and spread his hands, gazing at the scars on the backs
of them.