The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord (13 page)

She frowned.
"There's no need to shout at me. It won't help."

He rubbed his
face. "Sorry, I'm just... fed up, tired and frustrated."

"As am I."

"They could
kill him. They probably will. It's just a question of when."

"You think I
don't know that? You think I don't lie awake at night haunted by
his screams? And when I sleep, I dream of him, suffering, tied to a
rack, burnt... it's so real. I see his eyes, pleading with me to
help him... and I can't!"

"Hey." Tarl
put his arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault."

"We should
have asked Fairen for a ship, or a transmitter."

"No one
knew... Ah shit, there's no point in even going there. It's
useless. We don't have a ship, or a transmitter, and we're stuck
here while those bastards are torturing Sabre."

"We have to do
something!" Tassin gripped the front of his shirt and tried to
shake him, but only succeeded in yanking herself into his
chest.

Tarl hugged
her. "We will. We will. I'll start building a transmitter. You find
a mage who can get that bracelet. Something's got to work."

Tassin nodded
and sniffed, turning to the platoon of troops that waited a short
distance away. Emral stared into the depths of the pit, shaking his
head, then walked back to his horse as Tassin mounted, her
shoulders slumped in defeat.

****

Sabre gazed
out at the blue and white planet in the screens, and Estrelle, who
stood beside him wrapped in silk, smiled.

"It's
pretty."

"It's a
cesspit."

"You chose
it."

Sabre nodded.
"It's got Net booths, and intergalactic communications. But it's
not a nice place. And cybers aren't allowed."

"Then how will
you...?"

"I'll wear a
disguise. A strip of silk to hide the brow band and Martis' worker
uniform, and they won't know what I am."

Martis rubbed
his head, still bleary-eyed and foggy from his near asphyxiation.
"Good thing I'm wearing two uniforms."

"Yeah, and
you're bigger than me. Enough room to hide some weapons."

"Is it a
dangerous place?" Estrelle asked.

"It can be,
but the greatest danger is of being drugged and dragged off to an
orgy. Not life threatening, but something we would want to
avoid."

Martis shook
his head. "It wouldn't do them any good to drag you off to an
orgy."

The cyber
turned to him. "And why is that?"

"You're not...
um."

"Um?"

"Well you
can't be drugged, anyway, or dragged."

Sabre tilted
his head. "Tell me about the 'um' part."

"I'd rather
not."

"I'd like you
to. I really really would. A lot."

"Why?"

"It's
important to me."

Martis glanced
out of the screens. "Shouldn't you be undocking and landing the
shuttle?"

"It can
wait."

"Why is it so
important?"

"It just
is."

Martis
fidgeted, looking nervous. "Um... well... Your friend Tarl, he was
a tech, didn't he explain it to you?"

"He tried, but
he's a repair tech. You're a host tech; I'll bet you know more
about it, and how to fix it, don't you?"

"It can't be
fixed."

Sabre stepped
closer to him. "Tell me. Finish the sentence. I'm not... what?"

"Normal."

"Right. Why
not?"

"Do we have to
do this in front of Estrelle?"

Sabre glanced
at the control unit tech, who was agog. "I don't think she'll mind.
What's wrong with me?"

"What did Tarl
tell you?"

"That the
cyber damaged my brain so it couldn’t develop normally."

"Yeah, that
pretty much sums it up. Your wires are crossed. You react to social
behaviour as if it was a threat."

Estrelle gaped
at him. "Well I'm glad you told me that, Martis."

He turned to
her. "Why, were you planning to seduce him?"

"Maybe."

"Well
don't."

"How do I fix
it?" Sabre demanded.

Martis
hesitated. "Err... desensitisation might do it... or hypnosis."

"Hypnosis. Can
you do that?"

"Um...
maybe."

"Yes or
no."

Martis
squirmed. "Yeah, I could."

"You know what
to say to fix it."

"Yeah."

"So it can be
fixed."

"Maybe...
Look, I don't know, okay? No one's ever tried. Why would they? It
definitely won't work under cyber control, but for a host, I don't
know. It's hard-wired into your brain, but maybe hypnosis could
bypass it or something."

Sabre nodded.
"You're going to try."

"Now?"

"No. Some
other time." Sabre turned away, then swung back. "There's a wall,
in my mind. What happens when that fails?"

"For real?
Your base instincts block is failing?"

"Yes. What
happens then?"

Martis shook
his head. "It shouldn't be able to fail. But okay, yeah, if it
does, you're in trouble."

"What kind of
trouble?"

"The psychosis
kind?"

"Why?"

Martis
shrugged, looking ill at ease. "Because then you'd become
human."

"Aren't I
human now?"

"You're kind
of fifty-fifty... or maybe forty-sixty... not entirely human."

"And when the
wall fails...?" Sabre enquired.

"All the human
shit is unleashed on a machine-trained brain."

"I won't be
able to cope?"

Martis shook
his head. "Highly unlikely."

"Why not?"

"It's hard to
explain so you'll understand. You're a cyborg; you've never known
human interaction... I don't know." Martis threw up his hands.
"Maybe you'll be okay if I hypnotise you first. I can build a
bridge... maybe."

Sabre nodded.
"You're going to do it when we have more time."

"Who made you
the boss?"

"I did."

"So now you're
a bully, just because you're tough?"

Sabre looked
down, frowning, then shook his head. "No. I can't force you to help
me, but I want you to."

"I'm not sure
it's the best thing for you."

"I am."

Martis nodded.
"I'll think about it."

"The wall is
going to fail, whether you help me or not."

Sabre swung
away and went over to the console, aimed the cyber at it and
activated it. The shuttle jerked as it undocked from the drone ship
and fell towards the planet. Several other ships hung in orbit
around them, and shuttle craft moved between them. Sooner or later,
someone would come to investigate a Myon Two drone ship, and it
would be better if they were not still attached to it when that
happened.

Sabre set
course for a deserted surface-craft airfield and locked it into the
shuttle's guidance computer. Deactivating the brow band, he turned
to gaze at the racks of transport units. It would be better to kill
all the cybers, but the only way to do that was to open the caskets
and shoot each one, a prospect he did not relish. The cybers were
safe in their caskets, but if they were woken, they would become a
problem. Without owners, they would remain passive until forced to
seek food, at which time they would definitely cause a commotion.
Still, it was not his problem. As long as they were left alone,
they would remain in cold sleep for about twenty-five years.

Going over to
the pile of equipment he had removed from the lid of the casket, he
filled his webbing with all the weapons it would hold, clipping the
medical pouch onto the clasp that held it in the small of his back.
He wore the standard cyber issue clothes he had donned on Myon Two,
which consisted of a pair of stretchy camouflage trousers, a tight,
pale grey vest, sturdy black boots with duel grip soles, and the
webbing. Strapping the rotating wrist laser, grenade launcher combo
onto his right forearm, he checked the mechanism. It spun around
with a soft whirr, alternating between laser and launcher.
Whichever was on top was the active weapon, its firing mechanism on
a pad that protruded into the lower part of his palm, where he
could press it with his middle finger.

Sabre wished
he could wear the armour as well, but, although it was lightweight,
it was too bulky to fit inside Martis' worker's uniform. Martis
took the uniform off and handed it to him, looking uneasy in the
white host tech uniform he wore under it. Sabre eyed it, wondering
if Martis realised just how much he hated anyone clad in white
coveralls. When he was dressed in the dull blue worker's uniform,
Sabre cut a strip of casket silk and tied it around his head to
conceal the brow band, then watched the airfield rise towards them
in the screen. Several minutes later, the shuttle touched down in a
perfect landing, clonked, creaked and swayed a bit, then the door
unsealed with a hiss.

Warm, balmy
air flooded in, and Estrelle breathed it in with a sigh. Throwing
off the silk, she headed for the door. Martis followed, and Sabre
turned to the locking pad beside the door and scrambled the codes
with the cyber. If anyone tried to open the shuttle, it would take
them several weeks to break the code. Outside, he glanced around,
his immediate impression of the planet one of dampness. The
humidity was oppressive, and sweat popped out on his brow. Low
clouds moved languidly across the sky, and lush vegetation filled
every unpaved area. This had once been a jungle planet, which rich
tycoons had cleared at vast expensive to provide a playground in
which to indulge their perverted fantasies.

Spotting
several parked hover cars, Sabre headed towards them, the techs
following. He selected a cheap eco-car and used the cyber to unlock
and start it, sliding into the driver's seat. The techs climbed in,
Martis beside him, Estrelle at the back. Sabre guided the car onto
the fly-way, joining a stream of expensive traffic. He headed for
the nearest city, looking for a Net booth. They entered a
metropolis of widely spaced, towering glass spires, vast areas of
paving and lawn between them. The city had been designed to
accommodate the extremely rich, with no possibility of growth
changing it. All expansion took place on the outskirts, so the city
could grow bigger, but not become more crowded.

Artistic
clumps of the original jungle grew between concrete roads and areas
of mosaic paving that extended for kilometres, dotted with dancing
fountains and outlandish statues. The people who wandered through
the extravagant landscape wore flowing, diaphanous gowns or almost
nothing at all, and were bedecked with jewels, gold, feathers, furs
and anything else they deemed to be pretty. Exotic animals
accompanied some, spotted cats and bright birds, furry beasts that
clung to shoulders or were carried in the arms of overdressed
women. Most of the women were artificially enhanced, owning
overlarge assets, too-refined features, too-thick hair,
ridiculously long eyelashes and bloated lips.

Estrelle
stared at them in overt fascination, and Martis tried to hide his
embarrassment. Spotting a Net booth, Sabre parked the car between
two sleek vehicles and got out. A cloying stench of perfume or
incense assailed his sensitive nose and made his eyes water. Martis
gawped at a trio of young girls that flounced past, their breasts
bouncing as if filled with helium. They giggled and waved to him,
casting Sabre coquettish looks, and Estrelle came to his side,
looking annoyed.

"Shut your
mouth, Martis, you're drooling."

The young tech
blushed and looked away, then recoiled as a tall woman with a
massive bosom and a veritable mane of bright purple hair, clad in
little more than a G-string and nipple caps, brushed past him. She
trailed her fingers along his cheek and blew him a kiss. Sabre
smiled, glad that he was not the object of attention for a change.
Martis stared after the woman, his mouth open again.

"Wow, did you
see her?"

Sabre
chuckled. "Hard to miss, which I think is the point, and that was a
he, not a she."

"A what?"

"Well, she
used to be a he."

"That was a
man?" Martis looked shocked.

"Ex-man."

"How can you
tell?"

Sabre
shrugged. "Scanners, Host Tech Martis. Ask Estrelle."

"The scanners
can distinguish between male and female anatomy," Estrelle
supplied, "based on bone structure, muscle density, fat content and
even brain mass."

"At last,
she's found something she knows more about than you." Sabre headed
for the Net booth.

A fat man in a
tight pink leotard occupied it, and Sabre leant against the wall
outside the door, waiting for him to finish. Martis gaped at the
exotic people who flounced, swayed, skipped or tottered past on
high heels. Estrelle looked irritable, glancing down at her baggy
worker's overall, which hid any curves she had. Sabre found their
reactions fascinating, wondering why Martis found these strange
people so intoxicating, and why they seemed to annoy Estrelle. Her
irritation vanished when a fine-featured man with bright blue eyes
flashed a perfect white smile at her. His blond hair looked like it
was plastic, and his skin had a golden shimmer. His sheer white
vest and skin-tight pale fawn trousers revealed rather too much of
his muscular physique.

The stranger
leant against the wall near Estrelle, his eyes drinking her in,
then sidled closer and murmured, "You could be a knockout with a
few enhancements. Have you just arrived?"

She nodded,
smoothing her hair. "Yes."

He stroked her
arm. "You need some nice clothes, don't you?"

Sabre frowned,
noticing the odd, intoxicating scent the man gave off. Estrelle
nodded, apparently entranced, and now Martis looked annoyed. The
stranger's attention was riveted to Estrelle, and he leant closer
still.

"You need a
place to stay, too, don't you?"

She nodded
again, blushing. "Yeah."