The Cyber Chronicles VII - Sabre

by T C Southwell

  "You found me."

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little banged up.” He raised his head. "Fairen."

  The young Overlord smiled, his pale cheeks flushed. "Sabre."

  "Fairen found you," Tassin said.

  Sabre nodded and gave her a little squeeze, then released her and turned to Fairen. To Tassin's astonishment, the boy stepped forward and clasped Sabre’s hand, pulling him into a brief embrace as if he was a long lost brother. Sabre returned his hug with his peculiar brand of gentleness. When Fairen stepped back, he looked oddly serene.

  Sabre said, "Thank you."

  "You deserve my aid. More so than several planets of ungrateful, corrupted humans. And I always keep my word."

  "Fairen threatened to destroy Myon Two to save you," Tassin blurted. "Then we couldn't find you, and the enforcers lied. Fairen came here to sense you, otherwise we might not have found you."

  Sabre smiled at Fairen, then glanced at her. "I heard you call, and the paralysing agent wore off just a minute ago." He turned back to Fairen. "I'm in your debt, My Lord."

  Fairen's smile widened. "I think perhaps we're even now."

  Sabre considered. "No, I'm definitely in your debt."

  “If you insist on arguing about it, I shall have to demand a trial by combat between us to decide the issue.”

  The cyber’s smile widened. “We may just have to do that, then.”

  "I look forward to it."

  Tassin studied Sabre, concerned. "Fairen says you're wounded."

  "It's nothing serious." He glanced down at his new standard issue combat clothes.

  "What did they do to you?"

  "Why don't I tell you about it aboard Fairen's ship, hmmm? I’d really like to get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

  Fairen gestured to his troops, who parted to let them through. Sabre spotted Tarl in the background and detoured towards him. The technician smiled, looking a little nervous. His eyes flicked up to the brow band before meeting Sabre's gaze.

  "Good to see you're okay, bud."

  "Tarl, old bud, nice of you to come to my rescue."

  Sabre gave him a thump on the back that sent him staggering into the wall, and Tarl cursed, rubbing his smarting spine. He glared at Sabre as the cyber followed Fairen, and Tassin grinned at him.

  "The joys of being a cyber's friend, hey Tarl?"

  "He does it just to piss me off."

  "Of course he does. It's his idea of revenge."

  "For what?"

  She shrugged. "For being a cyber technician, I suspect."

  Tarl groaned, and she trotted to catch up with Sabre, slipping her hand into his.

  Chapter Five

  Tarl was waiting for Sabre when he emerged from the shower with a towel draped around his neck and another wrapped around his hips. The suite Fairen had assigned to him was sumptuous, comprising a massive lounge, bedroom and bathroom that would have put a planetary palace to shame. Deep crimson carpet cushioned his feet, and the bathroom fixtures were gold, as was the frame of the crystal-topped coffee table in the lounge. Recessed lighting cast a warm pink glow on pale rose walls and white leather sofas. Cloth-of-gold curtains framed the oval screens, which gave a view of deep space. Tassin was housed in the adjoining suite, and had gone there when he had told her he was going to have a shower. The technician looked determined.

  Sabre eyed him. "What do you want?"

  "To see your injuries."

  Sabre went over to the velvet-covered four-poster bed, where his clothes were laid out. "I suppose you also want my bio-status and a systems check?"

  "No, just to check your injuries."

  "There's nothing you can do. They're just burns."

  "Then they need ointment, but first I need to see how bad they are." He approached the cyber, who kept his back turned and picked up his vest. Tarl added, "Hey, I'm only trying to help, okay? Fairen did his bit and Tassin did hers. This is what I do."

  Sabre looked down at the vest. "So you consider yourself part of the support team, huh? In the field of technical expertise, I suppose?"

  "No, I'm your friend."

  Sabre dropped the vest and raised his head, staring at the far wall. "Why do you think I need to be constantly reminded of that? Do you think I'm so stupid I've forgotten your claim of friendship?"

  "It's not a claim, it's a fact, and I only remind you of it when you spout that bitter crap."

  Sabre turned to face him. "Bitter? Is that what I am?"

  "Amongst other things. I understand, but it's about time you got over it. I've proven time and time again that I want to help, and what I once was has nothing to do with what I am now."

  "No, you're still a cyber tech. You always will be. But hey, you're my bud, and I shouldn't compare you to the sadistic bastard who did this to me on the enforcer ship, should I?"

  Tarl shook his head, looking wary. "No, you shouldn't. What did he do?"

  Sabre pulled the towel off his neck, revealing the red marks on his chest.

  Tarl stepped closer, frowning. "Laser burns. Why did they do this?"

  "To test my new immunity to fire. He found it quite fascinating, and gave demonstrations. I'm surprised he didn't sell tickets."

  "Why don't you ask Fairen if you can decide his punishment?"

  "I think Fairen is probably better at meting out justice."

  Tarl examined the burns. "Clearly you're not immune to fire. Two of these are third degree."

  "It took six seconds for a full power laser beam to do that." Sabre pointed to one of the red marks. "This was three seconds. This one was five."

  "What were you doing while this was happening?"

  "Pretending to be under cyber control."

  Tarl grimaced. "So that's why the lights on the brow band indicate that it's in control again."

  "Do they? I guess I forgot to tell it to return to the correct configuration."

  Sabre glanced inwards at the cyber's information and commanded it. From Tarl's expression, he knew that the lights on the control unit flashed and turned red, save for a few green ones, as it had been before.

  Tarl nodded. "I'll fetch ointment and dressings for those." He swung away and headed for the door.

  "Tarl."

  The technician stopped, his shoulders hunched, and turned. "Yeah?"

  "Did you ever do anything like this?"

  "God, no. I was in repairs, not research and development." He hesitated, frowning at the floor. "The things I did were bad enough, but they were done to heal injured cybers, and I didn't know it hurt them."

  "Do you know a man called Grundel?"

  "Yeah, he was in research and development. Rude bastard. I never liked him. Was he...?"

  "Yeah."

  Tarl headed for the door again. "I'll get the ointment."

  Sabre donned his cyber issue trousers and boots while he was alone, then settled on the couch in the lounge to wait for Tarl to return. The technician dumped his bag on the coffee table and took out a tube of ointment and two dressings he had evidently made for the worst burns. Sabre stood up so he could smear the ointment on, and Tarl concentrated on the task, avoiding the cyber's gaze.

  "Do you want a painkiller?" he enquired.

  "No." Sabre cocked his head. “I could do this perfectly well myself, you know.”

  Tarl nodded. “I know. I want to be useful, okay?”

  “Performing a task I can do myself isn’t being useful. More like desperate for something to do.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve made it my mission to look after you. This time it’s just burns, next time it could be something you can’t do yourself, and there might not be medics around. I’m sure you don’t want Tassin to have to do it, do you?”

  “No. She didn’t enjoy it when she had to do it on Omega Five.”

  A short silence fell, and then Tarl asked, "Why do you still wear these clothes? I would have thought you'd hate them."

  Sabre shrugged. "They're comfortable, t
ough and functional."

  "Don't they remind you of what you were?"

  "No more so than the scars, or the brow band. It's not something that's easily forgotten."

  "No, but I'd have thought you'd want less reminders, not more."

  "When I can get rid of the scars and the brow band, I'll stop wearing the clothes."

  Tarl stuck a dressing onto one of the third-degree burns. "I think Tassin will want you to wear something different when you get back to Omega Five."

  "The last time she dressed me up in fancy clothes, I split the trousers."

  "That must have been fun." Tarl chuckled.

  "It was fairly embarrassing."

  Tarl stuck the second dressing on. "What else did Grundel do to you?"

  "Why do you want to know?"

  "I want to pay him a visit, and I'd like to know how badly to beat him."

  Sabre smiled and raised his brows. "I'd like to see that."

  "You're invited."

  Sabre looked down and fingered the dressings. "He was trying to figure out how the shiny girls gave me control of the cyber unit. He ran a bunch of tests while I was paralysed, then he boosted the control unit's power and tried to shock me into submission so the cyber could take control again."

  Tarl sprayed a layer of plastic skin over the second-degree burns and tossed the can back into his bag. "That should do it."

  He turned away, but Sabre caught his shoulder and yanked him back. "What are you feeling right now?"

  Tarl frowned. "Angry."

  "Why?"

  "Because of what that bastard did to you."

  "You hide it well,” Sabre said. “That's the sort of thing I'd expect from Tassin, not you."

  "Tassin loves you... and so do I."

  Tarl’s bald statement surprised Sabre, who tilted his head with a smile.

  "Don't get me wrong,” Tarl added, “I'm talking about brotherly love, bud. Good friends feel it too. It's just different."

  "I'm glad to hear it. So I should feel it for you as well?"

  "I'd like you to, but it's not... something I'd expect from you. Not yet, anyway. I'd say it's probably a little harder for you."

  Sabre nodded, releasing him. "I'm not sure how I feel about you. Sometimes I think I still hate you."

  "You're conflicted. That's normal. I represent all that you hate, yet I'm your friend."

  "Do you think my feelings are real, or imaginary?"

  "Oh, they're real," Tarl assured him. "Did they tell you that you weren't capable of true emotions?"

  "Yeah."

  "They're lying bastards. I hope Fairen condemns the whole lot of them."

  Sabre picked up his vest and pulled it on. "It wasn't Grundel who told me that, it was his commander. Grundel didn't want to talk to me at all."

  "No, he wouldn't.”

  The cyber looked Tarl up and down, amused by the prospect of the mild-tempered, middle-aged tech trying to beat someone up. It should prove to be entertaining, he thought, and he was curious to see it. "Come on, let's go and see him."

  "We're supposed to meet Fairen for drinks in his suite."

  Sabre headed for the door. "This won't take long."

  It took almost half an hour of tramping along apparently endless stretches of black, velvet-lined corridors and two trips in high-speed lifts into the bowels of the ship to find the place where Fairen kept his prisoners. The Scorpion Ship was extremely well maintained, Sabre noted, and its interior bore no sign of wear and tear, despite its age. That was not really surprising, with its population of over a hundred and fifty thousand, quite a few of whom, he guessed, worked on maintenance crews. The two black and red-uniformed guards outside the confinement area eyed Tarl and Sabre when they arrived, having found their way through the massive ship with directions from various crewmen.

  "We want to see the prisoners," Tarl said.

  "Do you have Overlord Fairen's permission?" one guard asked.

  Tarl glanced at Sabre. "He'll give it."

  "But he must be consulted."

  "Then do it."

  The guard went over to a communications link on the wall, keyed it and spoke into it. A few minutes passed before it beeped, and he listened to the reply.

  He faced them once more. "Overlord Fairen gives his permission, but he will be joining you. You must wait."

  Sabre smiled. "He doesn't like to miss anything, does he?"

  Ten minutes later, Fairen arrived, accompanied by Commander Shrain, Cyber Two and four soldiers. The guards bowed low, as did Tarl.

  Fairen's vivid eyes sparkled with excitement, and he cast Sabre an accusing look. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to confront your tormentors?"

  "It wasn't my idea. Tarl wants a word with the technician."

  Fairen looked at Tarl. "Just to talk to him?"

  "No."

  "Ah. Good, let's go in." Fairen donned his veiled hood and led them past the sentries into a long corridor lined with glass-fronted cells, where another guard patrolled. He stepped aside and bowed as Fairen swept past, and the Overlord led them to a cell at the far end of the passage. Sabre recognised Commander Barrin, Grundel, and the two technicians who had been in the examination room. The other three were strangers. The door slid aside at Fairen's gesture, and Tarl entered the cell, Sabre following. Grundel, who sat on the bench at the back of the room, stood up, eyeing Sabre with deep unease.

  Tarl approached him, drawing his attention. "Don't worry about him. He's not going to do anything to you. It's me you should be concerned about, Grundel."

  Grundel looked him up and down. "Tarl Averly, isn't it? Repair tech?"

  "That's right. I'm surprised you remember my name; you R and D guys were always so damned snooty."

  "What do you want?"

  "To give you what you so richly deserve, and I so want to dish out. For what you did to my friend. The shocks and burns. The humiliation, too." Tarl glanced at Commander Barrin, whose silver-trimmed uniform indicated his rank. "Although your commander had more to do with that."

  "You're the traitor. The one who sabotaged fifty-seven artificial wombs."

  "That's right."

  Grundel glanced at Sabre. "You call him your friend?"

  "Yeah, and he's a better man than the whole lot of you put together."

  "I see he's freed himself again. Or did you help?"

  "He was never under cyber control," Tarl said.

  "So, you've come to show him how much you care? Trying to win him over?"

  Tarl snorted. "I wasn't going to make it a public occasion, but it seems they all want to watch."

  "And you think I'm just going to let you beat me up?"

  "I hope not."

  Grundel noticed Fairen's hooded figure in the corridor and bowed. "Forgive me, My Lord, I did not see you there."

  The rest of the prisoners shuffled back and bowed, and Fairen tucked his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe. Grundel hesitated, then added, "Are you going to permit violence against your prisoners, My Lord?"

  "Yes."

  Grundel stared at him, clearly disappointed by his monosyllabic answer. "This hardly seems like justice. What about a trial?"

  "Your guilt is not in question."

  "But how can we be punished for following orders? Surely the guilty ones are the men who gave us the order to capture the rogue cyber?"

  "I am not going to debate this with you. You knew you were disobeying me when you captured him."

  Tarl stepped forward. "And I didn't come here to argue with you, either."

  Grundel turned his attention to the ex-cyber tech again. "So you're resorting to violence, as he would." He nodded at Sabre.

  "He's not the one threatening you, is he? That just shows how little you know about him."

  Grundel eyed Sabre, who sighed, folded his arms and leant against the wall. "I'm sure he finds it fascinating that you, a cyber technician and a free man, would want to harm another on his behalf."

  "Why don't you ask him?"


  Grundel shook his head. "I'm not interested in the inner workings of a cyber host's mind."

  "You should be. You would find it amazingly similar to a free man's."

  "Who are you trying to fool, him or yourself? Or perhaps both? You'd do anything to prove your stupid theory, even to the extent of convincing that poor dolt he could ever pass for human."

  Tarl punched Grundel on the chin and sent him staggering back into the officers behind him, who caught and steadied him. Tarl grimaced and wrung his hand, cursing. Grundel rubbed his jaw, then advanced on Tarl, raising his fists. Tarl did the same, and the two squared off, eyeing each other. Grundel took a swing at Tarl, hit him on the cheek and knocked him sideways. He ducked under Grundel's next swing and punched him in the solar plexus. Grundel doubled over with a coughing grunt. Tarl followed up his advantage, punching Grundel in the ribs. Grundel kicked him in the shin, making him grunt and hop.

  Sabre watched the fight with growing amusement, marvelling at their ineptitude. Clearly the cyber techs possessed some rudimentary fighting skills, probably learnt as a pastime, but neither could be called a fighter. They did manage to inflict bruises on each other, and a well-aimed blow from Tarl bloodied Grundel's nose. The rest of the officers moved back to give the combatants more room, and they continued to circle and punch.

  A touch on his elbow made him glance around at Tassin as she slipped her arm through his, gazing at the fight with amazement.

  "I was told there was a fight here, but I thought it was you."

  "A logical conclusion, but wrong, for a change."

  "What on earth is Tarl doing?"

  "Fighting?"

  She snorted. "I meant, why is he fighting that man?"

  "That's the cyber tech from the enforcer ship. Tarl wants to beat him up for injuring me."

  "How noble of him. Who's winning?"

  Sabre shrugged. "Neither, at the moment."

  Tassin winced as Grundel landed a hefty blow on Tarl's chin, sending him reeling back. Grundel followed it up with two punches to Tarl's midriff, doubling him over. Tarl gaped for air, and Grundel hit him on the side of the head, spinning him around, then kicked him, sending him staggering into the wall.