The Cyber Chronicles Book II: Death Zone

by T C Southwell

  Murdor shrugged. "I could grab someone and beat it out of 'em."

  "We might just have to do that." Gearn pushed his mug away and stood, heading for the door. Murdor polished off its contents before following.

  Gearn headed up the road again, looking for a suitable alley, which he found in a quiet suburb. Murdor lurked in it until a lone man passed by, then grabbed him and dragged him into the lane, silencing his cries. Gearn approached the terrified man while Murdor held him, a huge hand clamped over his mouth.

  "If you tell me what I need to know, we won't hurt you."

  The middle-aged man nodded, and Murdor released his mouth.

  "There were some women brought here a couple of days ago. Where are they?"

  The man frowned, his expression hardening just as the tavern boy's had done. Murdor growled and shook him until his teeth rattled, and the Orokan cowered.

  "Don't hurt me, please!"

  "Then tell me what I want to know," Gearn said.

  "They're in the cage by the palace temple. The building with pillars, in the city square."

  "Thank you." Gearn walked away as Murdor broke the Orokan's neck with a soft crack.

  Half an hour later, they found the city square and wandered across it with studied nonchalance, heading for the cage in front of the pillared edifice. Two soldiers leant on their spears next to it, watching Murdor approach with narrowed eyes. Tassin's black hair set her apart from the blonde girls with whom she was huddled in a murmuring group. Gearn approached the cage, excited to be so close to his quarry, only to be confronted by a flinty-eyed guard.

  "No one's allowed near the women, fellow, so push off."

  "But I want to buy one. They are for sale, aren't they?"

  The guard grunted. "Tomorrow. Until then, you stay away from them."

  Gearn glanced at the girls, who had stopped talking to stare at him with hate-filled eyes. The mage swung away and rebounded off Murdor's sweaty chest with an oath. Rubbing his nose, he headed for another alehouse, where he sipped sour wine and considered his options. If he waited until tomorrow, he suspected that he would find some rule banning outsiders from buying the women, so it would be better to steal her tonight. He told Murdor of his plan while the giant downed a second mug of ale, and he grunted and nodded. Deciding to catch up on some sleep, the mage rented a room and retired to it, leaving Murdor to drink.

  Sabre woke with a terrible crick in his neck from sleeping on a narrow beam that buttressed the stilts of one of the houses built over the swamp on the edge of the city. His mouth tasted as if something furry and old had made a nest in it; a mixture of mud and bile. The black swamp mud had dried to a hard shell, which cracked and flaked off when he moved. Easing his backside on the beam, he restored the circulation to various parts of his posterior.

  The sun sank towards the marsh mud, huge and red through the dusty atmosphere, and he picked dried mud from his face while he waited for the light to fade. Boots tramped overhead, mingled with the scurrying steps of playing children, their shrieks and laughter disturbing the dusk's stillness. His stomach growled, and his tailbone had developed a sharp ache. He shifted again, wishing that the sun would hurry its descent.

  The activity above lessened as people retired to their houses for the night, and lights appeared as torch-bearing men lighted street lamps. More feet tramped above him when the city's nightlife began, and music drifted from the town. Sabre sighed, willing the hours to pass as his perch grew increasingly uncomfortable. Hours crept by before the city darkened as street lamps ran out of oil, and staggering footsteps overhead told of men reeling home with too much liquor in their bellies.

  When at last an eerie silence fell over the town, Sabre eased himself off his perch and into the mud once more. With his slithering crawl, now well known to him, he made his way to the city's solid foundations. He paused to daub himself with fresh mud, then moved up the bank into the deserted streets. A few sputtering lamps still cast dim glows, and he switched to infrared.

  Finding Tassin in the sprawling warren would have been impossible without the scanners. Unfortunately, most of the buildings were stone, and he hoped she was not incarcerated in one of them. He was pretty sure she would be with the rest of the girls, and searched for structures capable of housing them. The first such edifice he encountered turned out to be a barracks, and he trotted past it. Most of the life signs were patrolling sentries, and these he avoided. To his surprise, there was a group of eighteen life signs on the scanners, which meant they were either in a wooden structure, or out in the open. He found himself in a square bordered by pillared, important-looking buildings, and the one he had seen from outside the city dominated it. Staying in the shadows around the perimeter, he came to a cage full of girls. A pair of guards stood beside it, idly chatting while they leant on their spears. Sabre crept up behind them, but as he got into position, one man looked up with a curse.

  "What's that smell?"

  His companion sniffed. "Swamp mud."

  "Never smelt it so strong before."

  Sabre realised that he was the source of the stench, and his nose had become immune to it. Creeping from the shadows, he gripped the men's necks and banged their heads together. Their spears clattered onto the cobbles, and he lowered the unconscious soldiers, then waited a few moments to see if there was any reaction to the noise. When none came, he approached the cage.

  Tassin stared into the darkness, her eyes gritty from weeping. The other girls had moved away after they had cleaned her wound, plaited her hair and comforted her. She ached with weariness, but the dread of what tomorrow would bring gave her no peace. Over and over, she saw Sabre's still body on the table, and a stab of pain shot through her heart each time. She tried to banish the image, but that only brought back the terrible visions of what was going to happen tomorrow, and she could not decide which was worse.

  Fear lived in the pit of her stomach like a cold, writhing snake, but she tried not to show it. As the eldest, and a queen, she had to set an example for the others, who looked to her for leadership. Earlier on, some drunken men had approached the cage, calling crude comments and promises. The guards had kept them away, but the shouted threats had made the girls cringe. Now the town had grown quiet, and some of the Andorans had slipped into an uneasy doze, twitching and moaning as their terror invaded their dreams.

  A terrible smell wafted into the cage, making her wrinkle her nose in disgust, and several girls groaned at the added irritant. This was really an awful place, she mused, a dung hill in a cesspit; a fitting home for the men who dwelt here. She looked over at the guards, wondering if they had noticed the stench, but they were stretched out on the ground, apparently asleep.

  Snorting, she turned away, then almost leapt out of her skin when a hiss came from behind her. Swinging around, she peered into the shadows. After some fruitless searching, she wondered if she had imagined it. Perhaps a beast had crawled out of the swamp, bringing the stench with it. A muttered curse made her peer harder into the darkness, widening her eyes.

  "Tassin."

  The Queen glanced at the other girls, who did not seem to have heard anything. The whisper had been barely audible, but she was sure it came from the smelly shadows. No one had asked for her name, not even Rai. She moved closer to the bars, trying to pierce the gloom. Something black shot through the bars and gripped her arm, yanking her closer. She opened her mouth to bellow in alarm, but a second hand clamped over her mouth, reducing her outcry to a whimper. The stench that emanated from the hand made her eyes water, and she struggled.

  Warm breath fanned her ear as a voice whispered, "Tassin it's me, Sabre. Keep still and be quiet."

  The Queen froze, her eyes widening as the shadows moved. Sabre was dead, so this had to be a trick. Yet who else knew her name, or his? Still she could not believe it; she had seen his corpse. She tried to wrench away, but the hand that gripped her was like steel, holding her against the bars.

  The whisper came again. "Feel the cyber if
you're not sure. I'm not dead."

  Tassin slipped a hand through the bars and touched a muddy face, shuddering at its sliminess. Her fingers encountered the familiar shape of the brow band, caked with mud like the rest of him, which was why she could not see its lights, and she relaxed.

  "Okay?" he asked.

  She nodded, and he released her. She scrubbed the mud from her lips, revolted. "You stink!" she whispered.

  "I know. I'm glad to see you, too. Wake the girls, tell them to be quiet. I'm getting you out of here."

  Tassin turned and crawled amongst the Andarons to shake them awake and whisper the instructions. Many still gasped and whimpered when a man-shaped shadow detached itself from the darkness and moved to the front of the cage. Sabre came to the door, gripped the bars and pulled them apart. The metal creaked as it bent, then the bolt snapped with a dull ‘plink’.

  Sabre opened the door and gestured for them to follow, raising a finger to his lips. Tassin led the girls, who clung to her and each other. Sabre's muddy disguise was sufficiently repellent to prevent her from touching him again. They followed him along the edge of the square and into a narrow side street. Sabre did not need to pause at corners to peer around them, but headed towards the edge of the city at a brisk walk. No one spoke until they had scrambled down the bank and encountered the sea of mud. Tassin stopped dead, causing a pile up behind her.

  "Sabre, you're not suggesting we cross this, are you?"

  He looked back at her, and white teeth flashed in his black face. "I'm afraid so."

  "What's wrong with the road?"

  He sighed. "Remember Olgara? This is the difference between the wall and the gate, between escape and recapture."

  "This is different, no one has seen us."

  "There are guards at the gate."

  She snorted. "I'm not climbing into that filth."

  Sabre approached her, and she recoiled from his smell. "That's exactly what you're going to do, Tassin." She jerked back when he took hold of her wrist, opening her mouth, and he muttered, "If you scream, that will be the end of our escape."

  Tassin closed it with a snap. "I wasn't going to scream."

  "Good." He pulled her closer, his muddy face centimetres from hers. "Soon you'll smell just as bad as I do, little queen."

  Sabre swept her up and carried her down the slope, ploughed into the malodourous mud and ignored her hisses of outrage. She clung to him, trying to stay out of the slime, but he grinned and lowered her into it. The muck burped rudely, and a rancid smell wafted up from it. Tassin grimaced, trying to keep as much of herself clean as she could, like a cat in a quagmire. To her horror, Sabre scooped up a handful and proceeded to smear it on her with all the glee of a little boy in a mud puddle.

  "Stop that!" she growled.

  "Get dirty. It's the best disguise. Be mud in mud, and no one will see you."

  "Ugh!" She shuddered as he plastered the cold muck onto her, and it slid down into her bosom, invading her slip. "You're going to pay for this."

  "I know. That's what I always get for rescuing you, isn't it? Told to get my dirty paws off you, and now threats. Well, this time you're as dirty as me, Your Majesty." He grinned, smeared mud on her face and rubbed it into her hair.

  "Do you have to be so thorough? I think you're enjoying this."

  "Yup. Tell your little friends to get dirty."

  The Andaron girls hung back on the bank, twittering like a flock of startled birds. Tassin growled at them, and they climbed gingerly into the mire. Noting their reluctance to get dirty, she picked up a handful of sludge and hurled it at them. This evoked muted squeals, then they got the idea and anointed each other, faint giggles erupting. Tassin looked up at Sabre as he smoothed the slime onto her cheeks.

  "I'm glad you're alive."

  He smiled. "Me too."

  "How did you do that?"

  "Cold sleep." He smeared another handful onto her neck. "It's the way cybers are stored in their caskets. The body's functions are slowed almost to the point of death, undetectable to anyone but a skilled doctor. It takes quite a while to sink into, and almost as long to recover from, which is why I nearly drowned in the swamp."

  "You can do it at will?"

  He smeared mud on her forehead. "It takes a little time, but yes, if the cyber co-operates."

  "Why didn't you just tell Rai what he wanted to know?"

  "Because then I'd probably be dead, and you'd be his wife."

  Tassin stared at him while he continued to plaster her with sludge, remembering Rai's rough slaps and threats. "Rai was disgraced. I hope they sacrifice him."

  Sabre met her eyes with a startled glance, and she wondered how it was that a supposedly civilised man like Rai could be so brutal, while one designed as a killing machine was so gentle. His solid presence was like a bastion of good in a sea of evil, and she flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. He patted her back in an embarrassed manner.

  "He hit me," she whispered.

  Sabre hugged her, imparting a wealth of comfort, and Tassin would have stayed there all night, but he pried her away. "We must get going. I think the girls are ready."

  Looking at the black, mire-covered monsters that had once been pretty young girls, she had to agree, stifling a giggle. Sabre gripped her wrist when she floundered in the mud.

  "Crawl over it, don't try to walk on it, you'll sink. Tell the girls to hang onto each other; we don't want anyone getting lost in the dark."

  Tassin passed on the instructions, and the girls floundered nearer, hanging onto her while she took a firm hold of Sabre's harness. He began his slithering crawl, towing the string of girls, who plucked slender limbs from the sucking slime.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gearn woke after dark and stumbled down to the taproom, rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning. Murdor was slumped over a table, emitting a rumbling snore and the reek of ale. The rest of the patrons had left, and only the bartender remained, polishing tankards and setting them in rows on the shelves. It took a great deal of prodding, slapping and shouting to rouse Murdor, then Gearn plied him with water and bread. The ex-gladiator growled, but the mage persisted until he was sober enough to walk. Two boys appeared and swept pointedly around the pair, their message obvious.

  Both the moons had set, and the city's street lamps were almost all extinguished. Gearn led Murdor through the dark, deserted streets to the square, where they found the guards asleep on the ground. Gearn blessed his luck, and hoped the girls would not cause an outcry if he told them that he had come to rescue them. If they did not rouse the guards, they might even escape without a fight. He went to the cage and searched the dim interior for the huddled forms of sleeping girls. Not finding them, he moved around the cage and discovered the door open, its steel bolt sheered clean off.

  With a yell, he pounced on the nearest guard, hauled him up by his collar and shook him. The man scowled and clutched his head while Gearn shouted in his face. When the gist of Gearn's raving penetrated the guard's mind, he scrambled to his feet and woke his companion with over-zealous kicks, then shouted for reinforcements, rousing the warriors in the barracks down the street. Men came running, and the sentry pointed at Gearn.

  "Not me, you idiots!" Gearn shouted, but the warriors grabbed him and the swaying Murdor. The giant swore and drew his sword, shook off his assailants and laid about him with wild, half drunken swings. Everyone ignored Gearn's enraged yells. Two soldiers gripped the mage's arms and dragged him away from the knot of struggling men around Murdor. An officer arrived, pulling on his trousers and trying to draw his sword at the same time. He dispatched torch-bearing warriors to search for the girls, but most concentrated on subduing Murdor.

  Sabre's acute ears picked up the distant ruckus, and he urged the girls to go faster. He glanced back at the city, where men with torches ran about, their shouts growing louder as they moved towards the swamp. The girls whimpered and clung to each other, and Sabre found that he was making no headway at
all. He turned and pried several hands off his harness, surprised that some of the Andarons were now clinging to him.

  "Move, girls, crawl, don't just hang on to me. I can't pull you all along."

  The girls obeyed, and they made progress again, Tassin crawling beside him. The cyber warned of an approaching swamp creature, and Sabre turned his head as the band activated. The mud on it hid its glow, but its deep hum vibrated the air. A slithering, snake-like beast veered off and whipped away across the mud at a remarkable speed, and Sabre glanced at the city again.

  Torch-bearing men gathered at the edge of the swamp, launching rafts. He increased his speed, using his elbows to pull himself along, and floundered into a patch of wet mud. Muted wails came from the Andarons while he struggled out of it, then he turned to help the girls who had followed him in. Tassin was the first one he pulled out, and she helped the others.

  Rafts skimmed over the swamp, flaring torches throwing light onto the mud. One approached them, and he whispered, "Get down! Everyone keep still and quiet!"

  A man used a pole with a wide plate on the end of it to push the raft closer. The warriors aboard it peered into the gloom, holding their torches high. The girls flattened themselves on the sludge, and Sabre hoped that from the raft they would look like a patch of lumpy swamp. The craft passed by, accompanied by a plopping noise of the pole being pulled from the muck. As soon as the pool of torchlight moved away, he urged the girls to start crawling again. The swamp's natural flatulence would disguise the squelching, sucking sounds they made. More torch-bearing soldiers swarmed along the road that led to the city, searching the edge of it. Sabre kept an eye on the rafts that slithered over the swamp, torches waving as their occupants scanned the mire.

  After a while, he allowed the girls to rest on a patch of drier ground, and they lay gasping while they watched the soldiers search. They had to reach the stilt trees before dawn, or they would be spotted in the daylight. When the girls had caught their breath, he moved on, ignoring their faint moans of protest.