The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord (22 page)

Sabre rose and
walked away a few steps, sank to his knees and back onto his
haunches, bowed his head and closed his eyes. He panted, his heart
hammering, and sweat dripped from his nose and chin. Silence filled
the arena as the audience tried to absorb the horrific and
impossible death of a peerless fighting machine at the hands of
what they thought was an unaltered man. More fool them, he thought
bitterly, such a thing could never happen. Even one cyber killing
another in this fashion had not happened before, simply because
they would never use the brutal tactics he had employed.

The gate onto
the arena floor opened, and a man stepped aside to allow Martis to
trot over to Sabre.

"Are you
okay?"

Sabre shook
his head. "What do you think?"

"Right, not,
but let's get out of here, please?"

"Give me a
minute."

Martis
fidgeted. "I hope we have a minute."

With a grunt,
Sabre climbed to his feet and headed for the gate, Martis
following. The balding procurer appeared and led them back towards
the exit, where the two tall, well-dressed organisers waited. One
held out a pouch of wafers, which Martis snatched before retreating
behind Sabre.

"What you did
tonight was impossible," the other man drawled in a rich baritone.
"We lost a lot of money on that fight."

"You lied,"
Sabre said. "Not only was that an A-grade, you were supposed to
stop the fight at first blood."

"You weren't
supposed to live to complain, and your sidekick wouldn't have been
able to do much about it. Perhaps you aren't in any condition to do
anything about it either."

"Try me."

"How did you
do it?"

"You were
watching, weren't you?"

The mogul
nodded. "I saw the impossible happen. Cybercorp will pay a great
deal for that vidimage. Perhaps I can recoup my losses."

Sabre inclined
his head. "And if they tell you how I did it, it will surprise
you."

"I look
forward to it."

"I'm so glad I
could give you something to look forward to. Enjoy the
anticipation."

Sabre brushed
past him and headed for the exit, Martis close behind. In the
street, Sabre took a deep breath of fresh, humid air and set off
towards the hotel. Martis fell into step beside him.

"We have to
find Estrelle."

Sabre stopped.
"Right."

Martis glanced
back. "Do you think they'll try to get their money back?"

"Maybe. They
know I'm hurt." Sabre consulted the scanners and turned to the
right, in the direction of a shiny building. The scanners led him
to a narrow, dark doorway at the side of the structure, where they
found Estrelle huddled, clutching the pouch. She jumped up with a
cry of joy, her smile swiftly fading at the sight of Sabre's
battered face. He swung away and set off across the square. Late
night revellers thronged it, most wearing very little, some
nothing, and all of them drunk or drugged. Sabre thrust them aside
when they came too close, and Martis elbowed others away. They
reached the hotel and slipped inside, Sabre relieved to get off the
street without incident.

In the hotel
suite, the cyber sank onto the red-quilted king sized bed with a
groan. Martis hovered, looking worried. Estrelle stowed the money
in a cupboard, then sat beside Sabre.

"Where does it
hurt?"

"Everywhere."

Estrelle
reached out to touch his swollen cheek, recalled Martis' warning
and stopped, biting her lip. "You should shower and get out of
these wet clothes, then Martis can do something about your
injuries. How badly are you hurt?"

"Two broken
ribs, torn ligaments in my elbows and wrists, a sprained shoulder
and lacerations to the inside of my cheek. And a lot of bruises, of
course."

Martis said,
"I don't have the necessary drugs to fix that, but I can strap your
ribs up."

Estrelle
looked up at him. "He probably needs a painkiller, to start
with."

"Right."
Martis went to the medikit and dug in it.

She turned to
Sabre. "Now you know what a broken rib feels like, huh?"

"Estrelle..."
Sabre took hold of her collar and tugged her closer. "Do you really
imagine this is the first time I've had a broken rib?"

"Um... I guess
not."

"That would be
a safe guess."

Martis came
back with two painkillers, and Sabre sat up to take them, wincing
as bruised muscles and strained tendons protested. Estrelle helped
him to peel off the sopping vest and tug off his boots and
trousers. When he was stripped to his shorts, he went to shower,
glad to wash off the dried sweat that prickled his skin. Martis
waited with three rolls of bandages when he re-emerged, and Sabre
sat down while he strapped his ribs. That done, the cyber stretched
out on the bed and tried to relax, his muscles thrumming in the
fight's aftermath.

Chapter Twelve

Jorran cursed
and glared at the cyber who was clamped to the scaffold. Blood
seeped from deep burns on the clone’s chest, and Jorran signalled
to Rond to show the clients out. When he had found that the free
cyber had put himself back under cyber control, it had surprised
him somewhat, but now he knew the truth.

"Cyber Seventy
One, what was your designation prior to this one?"

"Cyber
Twelve."

Jorran cursed
again, swinging away. Now he also knew why Estrelle and Martis had
not been at work for the last two days. At first, he had not
noticed their absence. Estrelle worked in another department, and
Martis, he had assumed, was working in another part of the lab.
Today, however, when he had ordered them to attend the
demonstration and they had not responded, he had made enquiries and
discovered that neither of them had been seen for two days. Even
then, he had not been alarmed, thinking them truant.

The free cyber
was gone as well, though, replaced by this one, which could only
mean the two young techs had somehow engineered his escape. They
could not leave Myon Two, so it was only a matter of time before
they were caught. A cyber was easy to hide, however. There were
hundreds in the centre, new ones and old ones that were used for
experiments before they were destroyed, and finding him would be a
mission. Still, as long as he was on Myon Two, he would be found.
Jorran was glad now that all access to the Overlord frequency had
been forbidden on this world and many of the other planets that
owed allegiance to Myon Two.

Returning to
his office, he ordered a planet-wide search for the cyber and the
two techs, also glad that he had fitted Sabre with a new locator.
He checked his messages, and found a strange one from a mogul on
Eden Five. It demanded a large sum of money for a vidimage of what
it claimed was a free man killing a cyber in unarmed combat. Jorran
snorted and almost dismissed it as a not too clever con, then
reconsidered. Was it possible that the two techs had somehow got
Sabre off Myon Two? It would explain such a vidimage, and he
authorised the payment.

When the file
arrived in his datanet, he watched it with horror and disbelief.
There was no doubt that the man with the white silk around his brow
was Sabre, and the brutal way in which he killed his opponent
turned Jorran's stomach, but also excited him. It proved that the
free cyber was even more formidable than a normal one, able to use
tactics that a true cyber would not, to great effect.

Jorran watched
the last few minutes of the fight several times, then contacted the
enforcers and informed them of Sabre’s whereabouts before leaning
back with a smile of satisfaction. The free cyber's little jaunt
would be a brief one, and had divulged some interesting
information. The traitorous techs would pay dearly for their
mistake, and he was curious to know how they had got off Myon
Two.

****

Kole stepped
out into the muggy, humid air of Eden Five, drawing in a deep
breath with a smile. The door whined shut behind him, and he patted
Striker's sleek silver hull before heading for the travel port
buildings, a bounce in his stride. This was just the sort of place
he needed to visit after six months on a drab rock.

After passing
through lax port controls, he wandered down a bright, wide street
between towering glass buildings, soaking up the ambience.
Everything was available on Eden Five, and he looked forward to
sampling many of its pleasures. The plethora of beautiful women
parading along the street promised an endless supply of eager
partners. He smiled at three pretty girls, who giggled and came
over. To his delight, they hugged and kissed him, tugging him
towards a shiny building. At the entrance, he freed himself from
their fondling hands just long enough to enter a Net booth and
leave a message for Sabre, using the return address on the one he
had sent.

The girls
tugged him into a lift that shot up to a luxurious penthouse
furnished with vast cushions strewn across a padded floor, where
they filled glasses from drink fountains on the walls and sprawled
on the cushions. Kole grinned as the girls pulled off his
clothes.

****

Tassin fought
the tears that stung her eyes, refusing to give in to the despair
that besieged her. The Olgaran mage stood with a bowed head, his
hands clasped before him as he admitted defeat. Two hours of
chanting, clapping and hand gestures had failed to raise the
bracelet from the inky depths of Orvalin Pit. Tarl patted her
shoulder and went to mount his horse. Words could no longer express
her anguish and despair, and he seemed to be similarly
stricken.

Turning away
from the pit that had swallowed her last hope of contacting Fairen,
she walked back to Falcon and allowed a knight to help her into the
saddle. Long shadows crept across the land as dusk fell, the sky
streaked with pink and orange behind streamers of gloomy cloud.
Tassin raised her head, glad the dimness hid the tears that slid
down her cheeks, no longer able to stifle them. Perhaps this time
he was lost to her forever, returned to the torturers who had
created him, destined to suffer for the rest of his life. The
thought made her want to be ill. She picked up her reins and tugged
Falcon’s head around as the rest of the party moved off.

A flashing
light in the sky caught her eye, and she reined in, staring at it.
It drifted above the trees, another flashing light becoming visible
beside it. A dark shape hung behind the lights, indistinct in the
gathering gloom.

"Tarl."

The repair
tech pulled up his horse and glanced back. "Yeah?"

Tassin
pointed. "What's that?"

He looked up,
a frown knotting his brows, which then rose in surprise. "It's a
ship."

"A ship?"
Tassin gave a choked sob. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely.
That's a ship!" Tarl grinned and gave a whoop that made the horses
shy and some of the men jump. "It's a bloody ship!"

She clamped a
hand over her mouth, convinced that her heart was about to burst.
"We must follow it!"

Tarl gazed up
at the lights, calming his cavorting mount. "It's going to land
somewhere nearby, that's why it's so low. It must be homing in on
the bracelet's beacon."

Tassin watched
the lights, afraid that if she looked away they would disappear.
They drifted lower. Tarl urged his horse towards them, for they
seemed to be moving towards a meadow on the other side of a narrow
belt of forest.

"Come on!" he
yelled.

Urging her
horse after him, Tassin tore her gaze from the lights. They
thundered through the grove, the soldiers following, and burst onto
a broad meadow where the ship, now discernable as a boxy black
shuttle, settled on the ground. Tassin stopped her horse and jumped
off to trot towards the vessel. Tarl ran up to fall into step
beside her. Five soldiers dismounted and hurried after them,
catching up as they arrived beside the shuttle.

The door
cracked open with a squeak, sank inwards and glided aside, allowing
warm yellow light to flood out. Two men stood silhouetted in it,
and walked down the ramp that slid out to provide egress. Tassin’s
heart pounded with joy despite Tarl's disappointed, wary
expression. She stepped forward with a smile when the strangers
reached the bottom of the ramp.

"Welcome to
Omega Five. Thank you so much for responding to our call."

The taller
man, whose long greasy brown hair was scraped back into a tight
braid, eyed her, fingering the laser holstered on his hip. Black
tattoos adorned his sallow cheeks, and he wore scuffed leather
trousers, thick-soled boots, a black leather waistcoat and a coarse
grey shirt. His garb looked oddly primitive for a spaceman, she
thought. The man sucked his teeth and gazed around.

"Well this
sure looks like a dump."

The other man
sniggered. "A real shithole, Borg."

Tassin drew
herself up. "I am Queen Tassin Alrade, and I will pay well for your
assistance."

The taller
man, Borg, smirked at her. "Well now, yer a pretty lass, aintcha?
So what help do ye need?"

"I need to
send a message to -"

Tarl elbowed
her. "An intergalactic message. We don't have a strong enough
transmitter."

"Too right ye
don't." Borg guffawed. "What we picked up were little mor'n space
static with attitude."

The shorter
man chortled. "Space static wiff attitude, I like that un,
Borg."

"'Course ye
do; yer a moron."

"We just need
to send a message," Tassin said. "It will only take a few minutes,
and we will pay."

"Watcha
got?"

"Gold? Jewels?
What do you want?"

Borg waved a
hand. "Worthless junk. Got anything good? Barrinium mebbe, or
samerite? Corrin crystals? Remelin?"