The Cyber Chronicles 05: Overlord

by T C Southwell

  Tassin touched the silver bracelet a crewman had snapped onto Sabre's wrist as he was leaving Fairen's ship. "What's this?"

  "A long range distress beacon. If Ramadaus captures me, I can use it to summon Fairen."

  "That was nice of him." She sighed, rubbing her brow. "So what are we going to do about Endroad?"

  Tarl shrugged. "What can we do? Endra obviously has the mentality of an armadillo and the will of a donkey. Like you said, trying to change her plan would be a waste of breath."

  "So we're going to Endroad. How do we get off it?"

  "We'll have to see what our options are when we get there." Tarl glanced at Sabre. "What's your bio-status up to?"

  "Seventy-four per cent."

  "Great. Let's hope the sight of you is enough to deter would-be attackers, because you're not up to a fight."

  Sabre nodded. "This is a Jerran-94 star cruiser; we'll be at Endroad in a matter of hours."

  "Is it armed?"

  "Yes."

  "Then let's hope that when they're attacked they change their plans and take us somewhere else."

  Sabre shook his head. "Don't wish for that. The next option is Washburn Nine."

  "God, that's even worse."

  "What's Washburn Nine like?" Tassin asked.

  "It’s a swamp world where it never stops raining, populated by a bunch of fanatics who don't allow any technology."

  "Wonderful. Do you think we could pay Endra to take us somewhere else?"

  "We could try, but I doubt it. They seem to have enough money."

  Endroad Four's two blue moons glared down from a cloudless, star-sprinkled sky, and Tassin glanced around with a grimace. A red-tinged, hostile landscape of pebble-strewn sand and stunted succulents surrounded the shuttle, illuminated by its floodlights. The sweet scent of night flowers drifted on the wind, at odds with the bleak terrain. The women unloaded boxes of medical supplies from the humming shuttle, and three girls were ushered aboard.

  "Well, it's a pity the bribery idea didn't work," Tassin said.

  "And now we know how they come to Endroad with impunity," Tarl added.

  "It's clearly one of their safe houses. But how do they stop the local pirates attacking them?"

  "Why don't we ask her?" Tarl nodded at a robust, strong-featured woman clad in the Sisters' shapeless grey uniform, who strode towards them.

  "Good idea."

  The woman stopped beside Tassin. "Welcome. There's a transport waiting to take you to the city."

  "Thank you. May I ask how you protect yourselves here?"

  "We have four like him." She nodded at Sabre.

  "Four cybers? How can you afford them?"

  The woman smiled. "We're not poor. Many of the victims we rescue are the daughters or wives of wealthy men, and they bring money. But we didn't pay for the cybers. They were gifts, the bodyguards of those women."

  "Surely a woman with a cyber doesn't need to flee to a place of safety?"

  "They do when their fathers or husbands hold their cybers' overrides."

  "Right. Any chance of purchasing passage to another world from you, or a ship?"

  "No." The woman looked sympathetic. "You may stay with us, but they must leave."

  "But you allow cybers amongst you."

  "Only those that belong to us."

  "And there's still me," Tarl said.

  Tassin shot him an exasperated look. "You could organise us a ship out of here on your own."

  "Not likely."

  The woman gestured towards the imposing, fortress-like building behind her. "Your transport is waiting."

  They headed for it, Tassin pulling her coat closer to ward off the cold wind.

  The woman fell into step beside her. "If you need our help, one of our cybers is stationed in the city for three hours each day, from noon. Just tell him that you need help, and he'll bring you here. Just you, though."

  "Thank you, I'll keep it in mind."

  They entered a sizeable courtyard, where a sleek air-car waited. A middle-aged cyber with a scarred face sat at the controls. Tassin was glad to climb into the warm interior, and the woman waved as the car speeded away.

  The city turned out to be more of a ship graveyard, its buildings interspersed with the gutted wrecks of star ships that now served as markets and housing for the poor. The cyber dropped them off outside a dimly lighted wreck, where they rented a cramped cabin for the night.

  Tassin gazed around at the disreputable establishment, her heart sinking. This was the fourth they had tried, and she was becoming despondent. Like the others, it was the converted dining hall of a wrecked star ship, its grey walls smudged with dirt and the worn furniture sagging from age and abuse. Tinny, distorted music blared from a battered stereo bolted to the wall above the bar, almost drowning out the mutter of male voices. The stench of unwashed bodies thickened the air, mixed with cloying perfume and an underlying pungent odour that Tassin assumed was rot.

  Men sat and drank glasses of brightly coloured alcohol around battered plastic tables, enjoying the attentions of scantily clad women. One girl provided entertainment on a tiny stage made out of old plastic crates, where she danced naked around a pole under a flickering spotlight. Tassin averted her eyes, her face growing warm. Sabre cast the girl a cursory glance, but Tarl almost fell over a table in his fascination. The rest of the room was gloomy, since most of the original lighting panels no longer worked. Jerry-rigged light poles had been brought in to replace them, but they were old and dim.

  No sunlight reached the barroom, which had once been deep in the bowels of the gutted star liner. One side of the ship had been disassembled, probably to be sold as scrap, one of Endroad Four's main sources of income. The street was now just outside the exit, but a functioning door prevented sunlight from entering it. In other wrecks, the barrooms were located deep within the rotting hulks, and they had been forced to traverse many dirty corridors to reach them.

  The overriding impression Tassin had of Endroad Four was dirt. The men all seemed to be caked in it, the wrecked ships were half buried in it, and the rank red sand blew into every nook and cranny. The heat added to the problem by making everyone sweat, which provided the glue to which the dust clung, and whatever bacteria lived on Endroad Four made particularly pungent body odour. To make matters worse, the dearth of water meant that baths were few and hard to come by. Tassin had paid extra for a bowl of water that morning, so she could wash. She had shared it with Sabre and Tarl, for it had cost almost as much as a cooked meal. She did not want to know what constituted meat on this desolate planet, and had not asked what kind had arrived on their plates for dinner the previous night.

  Tarl elbowed his way to the bar counter, which had the dubious privilege of being built from hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of empty liquor bottles glued together under a shiny top that had once been a ship's solar wing vane. Men growled and turned to challenge him until they glanced past him at Sabre and thought better of it. Although he had lost his armour, he was armed and clad in his combat clothes. Tassin stayed close behind Tarl, her hand on the hilt of the dagger in her belt.

  Reaching the counter, Tarl banged on it to summon the bartender and ordered a drink, which, they had discovered in previous establishments, seemed to be requisite before he could ask questions. The fat man behind the bar poured a pale amber beverage, and Tarl paid, sipped it and grimaced.

  "We're looking for passage," he stated, loud enough for those around him to hear.

  The bartender turned his head and spat. "You could try Kernan."

  "Where would I find Kernan?"

  "Down the end of the bar."

  Tarl headed for the indicated end of the bar, Tassin following. A sallow-skinned man with a shaven head and a badly scarred face looked up when they approached him, his brown eyes flicking past them to Sabre. He had once been handsome, but the pale scar that ran down one side of his face, dissecting an eye and ending at his chin, ruined his looks. He wore a faded orange jump suit, and blurred,
serpentine tattoos emerged from his collar to writhe up his neck.

  "Are you Kernan?" Tarl asked.

  He nodded, still studying Sabre. "I am."

  "We want to purchase passage."

  "Where to?"

  "Anywhere civilised. Toron Seven?"

  Kernan jerked his chin at Sabre. "He belong to you?"

  "To the lady."

  Kernan turned to Tassin. "Toron Seven, huh? That's a fair journey."

  "How much do you want?"

  "I want him," Kernan's eyes flicked to Sabre again.

  "Not a chance."

  "His services, for a few hours."

  Tassin glanced at Sabre. "Maybe we can come to an agreement. What do you need him for?"

  Kernan looked down at his drink, frowning. "My shipment of medical supplies was stolen by sand runners; I want it back."

  "What are sand runners?"

  "They're a bunch of idiots on air-bikes, but they're dangerous."

  "What kind of ship do you have?"

  "A junk freighter, but she'll get you to Toron."

  "How many of these sand runners are there?"

  "About thirty."

  Tassin started to shake her head, but Tarl took her arm and tugged her away, saying over his shoulder, "We'll discuss it."

  As soon as they were out of earshot, she frowned at him. "Sabre's not taking on thirty men."

  "He won't have to if he steals the supplies back at night when these sand runners are asleep."

  "If it was that easy, Kernan would have done it already."

  "He doesn't have scanners. Cybers are very good at sneaking around."

  "Does anyone care to hear my opinion?" Sabre asked.

  Tassin turned to him. "Of course."

  "He's lying."

  "About everything?"

  "Pretty much. He might have a ship, but he doesn't have a shipment of medical supplies."

  Tarl swore. "This is the closest we've come to finding a ship."

  "So we keep looking," Tassin said. "This is only the first day. It could take weeks."

  "We're not going to survive weeks on this planet, even with Sabre."

  "What do you suggest; we take this deal, even if there's a good chance it's a trap?" she asked.

  "Maybe these sand runners did steal something,” Tarl said, “and he's lying about what it is for some reason."

  Sabre nodded. "Possibly, but it could also be a trap."

  "So we keep looking. Let's go." Tassin headed for the exit, but as she walked out into the dusty street with its looming, corroded hulks, Kernan overtook her, stepping into her path.

  "Hey, what about our deal?"

  "No deal."

  "Just like that? You're not going to find another ship, you know."

  "We'll take our chances," she said.

  "Why won't you take the deal?"

  "You lied."

  Kernan glanced past her at Sabre. "So, you asked your cyber. Good thinking."

  "In a shithole like this, it's just common sense." She went to brush past him, and he put a hand on her arm.

  Sabre stepped forward, and Kernan released her and raised his hands in an appeasing gesture. "Okay, okay, my mistake. Look, lady, I do need your help. Fine, it's not medical supplies, it's recreational drugs."

  "Why did you lie?"

  He shrugged. "To make you more sympathetic, I guess."

  "He's still lying," Sabre said.

  Kernan glared at him. "Okay, fine. They didn’t steal it, I bartered it to them."

  Sabre tilted his head, the brow band flashing. "Now he's so agitated it's impossible to tell."

  Tassin shook her head. "It's too dangerous, anyway. No deal."

  "I'll help, and I have a couple of men."

  "Against thirty armed thugs? They're armed, right?"

  "Yeah, but only with old-style projectile weapons."

  "What are the drugs worth?" she asked.

  "About a hundred thousand."

  "I'll pay you that for passage."

  Kernan cocked a brow. "You have that much cash on you?"

  "No," Tarl said. "It's stashed."

  "Right." Kernan glanced around, then stepped closer to Tassin, keeping his hands raised for Sabre's benefit. "Look, I didn't want to mention this, but I bartered the drugs for my girl, and they kept them both. They kidnapped her yesterday. They'll use her for sport, then kill her. She only has a day or two before that happens. God only knows what she's going through now."

  Tassin glanced at Sabre, who nodded, and she faced Kernan again. "That's terrible, but, like I said, it's too dangerous."

  "For god's sake, lady!"

  "Show us your ship," Tarl said.

  Kernan scowled and gestured at Sabre. "You think I'm going to let him near my ship? How stupid do you think I am?"

  "There has to be a certain amount of trust here, or there's no deal. Show us your ship."

  Kernan slumped. "Fine, follow me."

  Tassin grabbed Tarl's arm as he followed Kernan. "How do we know this isn't a trap?"

  "If it was, Sabre would have said so."

  She looked at the cyber, who shrugged. "He's still agitated, but I don't think he's lying."

  Tarl shrugged off Tassin's hand and set off after Kernan, who waited a short distance away. He led them along the twisted roads that wound between shabby stone buildings and the remains of ancient star ships to the outskirts of the ramshackle city, where several space craft were parked on a stretch of concrete. A pink sun blazed down from a cloudless copper sky, making the flat horizon shimmer in a heat haze and sweat pop out on Tassin's brow. Kernan headed for a rusty freighter, stopped in its shade and waved a hand at it.

  "Here she is."

  Sabre studied it. "A Pulsar class 2-E pulse drive short distance cargo vessel. One hundred and thirty-four years old, obsolete since thirty fifty-three. One engine has significant metal fatigue in the outer casing. Fuel tanks at half."

  Kernan nodded, frowning at him. "She'll get us to Toron."

  "In a week."

  "I didn't know you were in a hurry."

  Tarl shook his head. "A week suits us fine; fighting these sand runners doesn't."

  "That's the deal."

  A hatch in the ship's belly swung open with a squeak, and a red-haired man with a narrow, freckled face emerged, surveying them with sharp green eyes. He wore an oil-stained orange jump suit, and wiped his grimy hands on a filthy cloth.

  "What's up, Captain?" He spotted Sabre and smiled. "You found help to get Trina back?"

  "We're still negotiating."

  "What do they want?"

  "Passage to Toron."

  "Well, hell, that's easy."

  Kernan shook his head. "The lady's afraid her cyber will get hurt."

  The red-haired man turned to Tassin. "That's what he's designed for, Miss. He can handle it, don't worry."

  Tassin asked Kernan, "Would these sand runners trade for your girl?"

  "Sure, but they’ll just keep whatever we offer them, and Trina, too. That’s how they got the drugs. When I offered a ransom, they named a ridiculous amount."

  "How much?"

  "A million. I'd pay it, but I don't have it."

  Tassin considered for a moment. "What about something they couldn’t steal?"

  "Like what?"

  She nodded at Sabre. "Him."

  "You'd trade him for my girl?"

  "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, wh
ere 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.