"He didn't leave of his own accord,” he said. “He's not taking a sabbatical on a distant mountain top, he was abducted."
"How do you know that?"
"I had a look in his room, particularly on the wall outside his window. Someone climbed up that wall. You can see the scratches. It's not like him to disappear in the middle of the night, and he's been gone for two days now. You're sure you didn't see or hear anything?"
Tassin shook her head. "How could someone abduct a cyber?"
"Shoot him with a tranquiliser dart from the window, then carry him off. The scanners can't penetrate stone, so the cyber wouldn't have warned him."
"A tranquiliser?"
"Yeah. Cybers are immune to most poisons and incapacitating drugs, but not all. There's one in particular that Myon Two uses, called endronate. They couldn't make cybers immune to it, so they bought the patent for its production and banned its use by anyone else. Only Myon Two produces it now, because it incapacitates a cyber in less than two seconds if it's injected into the jugular. It kills a normal human in even less time. I think they've got him, and if they do we've got to find him."
"How?" Tassin swung to gaze out of the window. "We don't have a ship. And if this happened, why hasn't Fairen rescued him yet?"
"I don't know... unless..."
"What?"
"If Myon Two had taken the bracelet, Fairen would have noticed that the locator beacon had moved, and gone to investigate... Well, in theory. Or if they had broken it, he would have come to see why the beacon had stopped. But if they took the bracelet off and hid it somewhere, but left it switched on, Fairen wouldn't know anything had happened to him."
"That bracelet can't be removed, and if it was cut it would set off the distress signal."
Tarl nodded. "Then they must have found a way to unlock it. Myon Two are nothing if not resourceful. Maybe Ramadaus helped them. I don't know, but I'm sure he was kidnapped."
"So what do we do?"
"Well, you're right; we're stuck here without a ship. But if I can find the bracelet, I can trigger the distress signal."
"I'll dispatch men to start searching immediately," she said.
"Okay, good. I'm going to see if I can rig something to pick up the beacon. I'll use the equipment Fairen sent. I'm sure I can make some sort of receiver out of the parts. We know it's a high frequency sideband."
She turned to face him, her heart filled with dread. "Please hurry. God only knows what they're doing to him."
"I know. I will."
Tarl left, and Tassin turned to stare out of the window again, her eyes blind to the budding spring shoots on the trees outside and the bright sunshine that bathed the peaceful land. When Sabre had vanished two days ago, she had not been unduly alarmed, thinking he had gone out for an early walk. He had not returned that night, however, and she had started to worry, but told herself that he was merely camping out perhaps, and needed some time alone.
When there was still no sign of him the next day, she had dispatched search parties, but continued to hope that he was only spending some time alone with his thoughts. This morning her worry had grown further, for he would not have stayed away for so long without telling her. He would know she would be worried. Then again, who, or what, could harm a cyber? For two days she had comforted herself with the knowledge that he was bound to be safe, now she was no longer so sure.
If Tarl was right, Sabre was in grave danger, and undoubtedly suffering at the hands of sadistic Cybercorp technicians. The thought made her bile rise, and she gulped. He had warned her that this would happen, but she had not wanted to believe him. Would he never know peace? Was her dream of a happy, carefree life with him just a fantasy? How long before Tarl or her men found the bracelet, and then what? Would Myon Two kill him rather than let an Overlord catch them with him?
The questions made her head ache, and she rubbed her brow. There were simply no answers to be gained from pointless pondering. There was still a chance he was off wandering somewhere, unaware that she was going out of her mind with worry. She clung to the hope that at any moment he would stroll into the castle. She missed his husky laughter and gentle teasing, the way his silver-grey eyes made her shiver and his shy hugs. The legacy of Myon Two’s torture was written in the hair-fine scars on his pale golden skin, caused by the cruel operations that had strengthened his bones with metal. They ran along the sides of his torso and neck, down his arms, legs, cheekbones and forehead to mid-way down his narrow nose, and even as lines of white in his cropped dark blond hair. The black crystals embedded in the golden-hued brow band that had once enslaved him were usually filled with tiny multi-coloured lights. It curved around his brow, no more than three centimetres wide and fifteen centimetres long, its rounded ends not quite reaching his hairline. She blinked, rubbing her stinging eyes. She did not want to think about what the torturers on Myon Two would do to him if they had taken him.
****
Parvan glanced up as his chief cyber tech placed a vidrecorder on his crystal-topped carved desk and flopped into the pseudo-leather chair that faced it. The department head had never liked Jorran, whom he thought was an egomaniac and a bit of a sociopath. Most of all, he disliked having the sweaty little man in his plush, sweet-scented office. Parvan treasured the aroma of new upholstery, and renewed his furnishings regularly to ensure his office always smelt new.
Jade-framed masterpieces graced the patterned, pale blue walls, complementing the woven grey blarri-hair curtains that framed massive windows with a vista of the glittering glass and metal city. Parvan's was one of the few offices that had a view, and he made the most of it, with floor-to-ceiling mirrors on the far wall to reflect it. He switched off a scrolling vidreport and steepled his hands.
"Well?"
"It's all in my report."
"Summarise."
"He's above normal,” Jorran said. “All his specs are at least ten per cent better than any other A-grade ever tested. Of course, you have to remember that he's Dorilan's finest. His last, perfect cyber, hand-picked at birth and raised to be better than all the rest. He was slightly above average before, now he's exceptional."
"That's excellent news. You're ready to ship him to Myon Two, then?"
"If you're prepared to risk it, and they are, too."
Parvan nodded. "They are. No sign of trouble with him?"
"No, nothing out of the ordinary."
"Good, put him in a casket and send him to Myon Two. They already have clients eager to see the new prototype. You'll go, too, so you can continue your research into the retrograde DNA splicing, and oversee the introduction of his DNA into the generation programme."
"Right." Jorran rose and left the office.
Seven days later, Jorran stepped out of a company shuttle into the cool, muggy air of Myon Two, glancing up at the perpetual cloud cover. Fifteen layers of cross-lane air-car traffic whizzed past overhead, from brightly coloured fun-cars on the top layers to heavy transports at the bottom. Ahead of him, the sweeping, glass and steel edifice that was Cybercorp's head office towered, the name proudly displayed in four-metre-high silver letters halfway up it. Jorran had visited head office several times, but still recalled his first trip here, and how the glittering richness and awe inspiring buildings had intimidated him. This was an empire built on advanced technology and innovation, and its design reflected that.
The floating casket followed on its leash, and he approached a welcoming party of eager Cybercorp techs who came forward to greet him, shake his hand and gaze at the casket.
"That's him?" Vardin, head of Myon Two research and development, asked. He was a stocky man with black eyes, a lantern jaw and a high forehead that a receding hairline made more prominent.
"This is him," Jorran agreed.
"We're all eager to see what he can do."
Jorran inclined his head, and Vardin ushered him into the palatial reception, where he was logged in by security and given his clearance and access code. The official business done, he
followed the department head along many smooth white corridors to a bright, sterile room filled with experimental equipment and monitoring consoles. The techs gathered around, murmuring, as he deactivated the antigravity fields and activated the unlock sequence. They waited for several minutes while the lights changed from red to amber to green, and the lid unsealed with a faint click. Mist oozed from the crack, then billowed up as Jorran opened the lid. The techs crowed around to peer inside as the mist cleared, revealing the cyber within.
"He's older than I thought he would be," Vardin commented.
"He's got a lot of scars," another tech said.
"He's been in service for eight years," Jorran informed them. "There's bound to be a bit of wear and tear, but he's in good condition."
"Well, let's get on with it." Vardin rubbed his hands.
Jorran glanced at him. "Just remember, this one is dangerous. We'll need a cyber to guard him, although I have an override with his codes." He pulled the little black trigger from his pocket.
Vardin signalled to another tech, who spoke into a communications link. Moments later, a cyber entered and took up a guard stance just inside the door. Jorran looked down at Sabre. He had learnt the free cyber's name from Grundel's records, but refused to use it, although he found himself thinking of him as Sabre.
"Cyber Seventy One, stand up."
Sabre sat up and climbed out of the casket with the lithe ease that all cybers possessed, turned to face Jorran and assumed a guard stance, legs apart, hands clasped behind his back. The techs gathered around to examine him.
"He doesn't look any different," Vardin commented.
"No," Jorran agreed. "Until you shine a light on him."
A tech gave him a hand-light, and he shone it on the cyber's arm, causing the skin to emit a soft golden glow.
"What causes that?" one tech asked.
"Reflective melanin. It has an iridescent quality, so it reflects between eighty and nighty per cent of heat and about twenty per cent of light."
Vardin peered at the brow band. "I thought this one was supposed to be free."
"He was, but he's put himself under cyber control to avoid painful tests."
"So then a host really feels no pain while under cyber control?" a young female tech with mouse brown hair and wide green eyes asked.
"No, we know they do, but he figured that if I couldn't get any results from my tests, I wouldn't run them. And he's right; it's pointless now that he's under cyber control."
"You spoke to him?"
"Yes, for about fifteen minutes."
"What's he like?"
Jorran frowned at her. "It doesn't matter. He's just a host."
Vardin glanced at the data record Jorran had given him. "So, all his tests were ten per cent above normal for an A-grade. It's not much, and we don't know whether it's due to the changed DNA or just the result of good training and exercise."
"No, we don't. But what we're really interested in is the fireproofing, in any case."
"True. Would you give us a demonstration?"
"Of course."
****
Tarl looked up from the clump of wires, crystals and electrical components on the workbench in front of him as Tassin entered his lab for the umpteenth time, her too-frequent visits harassing him. The diminutive raven-haired Queen looked exhausted, her azure eyes haunted and her skin paler than usual. Her thick hair was swept up in a simple braid atop her head, and she wore no jewellery other than the delicate, elegant engagement ring Sabre had given her a month ago. A simple dark blue gown clad her slender form, its sleeves and hem edged with white lace, a paler blue satin bodice clasping her tiny waist.
"I haven't made much progress in the last half an hour, so there's no point in coming to check on me again," he said.
She sank down on a stool beside the workbench, gazing at the mess on it. "I'll stay and watch you, then."
"I don't like being watched."
She sighed. "It's been more than a week. He must be going through hell."
"I'm sure he is, and I know how long it's been. I haven't had any sleep for four days." He put down the tangle of wires and yawned. "Which is probably why I'm not making any progress. I can't think straight anymore. I must rest."
"We should have asked Fairen for another transmitter."
"But we didn't, so it's no good wishing we had." Tarl rubbed his eyes. "What about the men you have searching?"
"They've been through the castle, now they're in the gardens."
"It could be anywhere, on the other side of the planet, hell, even in space."
Tassin looked down at her wrestling hands. "Don't say that, please. We have to find it."
"We will."
"Soon!" She bowed her head, biting her lip. "I can't bear to think of him suffering. It's giving me nightmares."
"Hey..." Tarl turned to face her, shaking his head. "He's a tough guy, remember? He's been through it all before. He can handle it."
"Can he?" She looked up, her expression despairing. "What if he can't? What if it's just too much this time? What if he doesn't think we'll be able to help him?"
"Hey, don't think like that. He knows we'll find a way to reach Fairen."
"What if we can't?" she wailed.
"We will! We must. That's all there is to it. Now, I'm going to get some sleep, so I can think straight, and you should, too. Have something to eat while you're at it, you're starting to look like a ghost. You're going to need your strength for when we find him."
Chapter Two
Pain dragged Sabre from his dark, sticky cocoon. Waves of burning agony washed over him as if tongues of fire lashed him. Rising through the layers of cyber control like a dolphin swimming up from the deep, he burst into reality as if it was the air above the water. He drew in a deep breath as his eyes regained their focus. Flames bathed his chest, pouring from the flamethrower that a stocky, lantern-jawed man with a receding hairline and glittering black eyes held. The control unit flashed a warning as Sabre focussed on his target with all the purposeful intensity of a machine-trained mind.
Diving into a forward handspring, he attacked through the stream of fire, landed in front of his torturer and kicked him in the chest. The man flew backwards with a coughing grunt and a soft crunch of breaking bones. The flamethrower clattered across the floor, its fire snuffed out. Sabre leapt at the next closest person in a backward handspring. His fist smashed the man's skull with a dull crunch and a spurt of brains. Shouts of horror and terror rang out, and he turned to his next target, becoming aware of a cyber attacking from the side. His eyes focussed on his potential victim, noted that she was female and flicked to the man beyond her. Dropping into a forward roll, he sprang up in front of him and chopped his throat with another crunch of crushed cartilage.
The cyber came within range, but Sabre sprinted towards Jorran as he became fully aware of his surroundings. Jorran dug in his pocket, his eyes white-ringed, and gave a shriek as Sabre reached him. Sabre leapt into a spinning kick that sent the tech sprawling, then whipped around as the cyber leapt at him. Ducking under his opponent's lashing leg, he punched him in the underside of his thigh. The cyber landed heavily, and Sabre spun again, the speed of his movements blurring his vision. Another man knelt beside Jorran, digging in his pocket. Sabre attacked in a bound, sending him rolling with a kick that broke several ribs.
"Hold!" a female voice shouted, making the enemy cyber stop.
Sabre stopped too, falling into a crouching stance, as tense as a coiled spring.
The young woman he had spared stared at him with wide green eyes, her face rigid with fear. Two men flanked her, almost hiding behind her, their mouths open. Sabre forced himself to relax, and straightened to look down at his reddened chest, raising a hand to touch the ugly welts. A quick glance around showed him that he was in a spacious, aseptic laboratory. A wide bench ran along one wall, screens and keyboards on it, and tables and testing equipment were dotted around the floor. Turning to Jorran, he went over to th
e unconscious tech and took the override trigger from his pocket, crushing it.
The woman stepped closer, holding out her hand in an appeasing gesture. "Please, calm down. No one will hurt you."
Sabre glanced at the cyber, who had assumed a guard stance, then down at his chest. "What do you call this? A tanning treatment?"
"A mistake. One that won't be repeated."
"You expect me to believe you?"
She looked shocked. "We didn't think you'd feel it."
"Don't give me that crap. You know damned well hosts feel pain. You brought me here to demonstrate my so-called fireproof capabilities, and this is how you're going to do it to a bunch of pea-brained rich bastards, probably every day, or as often as you can without actually turning me into a piece of charcoal." He gave a mirthless chuckle. "And you really think I'm going to let you do it without a fight?"
"No... That might have been the plan, but clearly we can't now."
Sabre approached her, raking her with a cold glance. "You're a junior tech. You have no authority to make that decision. You're just trying to buy yourself some time to call reinforcements."
She stood her ground, although the two men sidled away. "After this, they won't be able to do it."
"You think so?" Sabre snorted, glancing at the fallen men, two of whom were dead. "They'll just clamp me down so I can't fight back. I know these bastards. I grew up in a place like this, remember?"
She swallowed hard. "Normal cyber hosts are unaware."
"They're aware," Sabre said. "All those little boys in the pens, all those adolescents in the sensory deprivation tanks, are aware! Look into their eyes, next time you're in the production centre. Why do you think they put them in those tanks?"
The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord Page 2
