The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord

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The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord Page 3

by T C Southwell


  "To establish cyber control."

  "Because otherwise the host brain fights for control. I should know, I lived it."

  She shook her head. "You're different."

  "You actually believe that? How stupid are you, exactly?" Sabre tilted his head. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to establish a rapport, be my friend, so you can... what? Talk me into co-operating? Do you think I'm a complete idiot? What's next, promises to treat me well, give me three hot meals a day and a nice soft bed if you can trot me out and burn me once a week?"

  "No, I just wanted to stop you from killing any more of us."

  Sabre nodded. "The truth, at last. Well, I've stopped, so which one of you would make the best hostage?"

  "You killed him."

  He looked down at the corpse of the lantern-jawed man whose white uniform bore the emblems of a department head. "So I did. Then I guess my friend Jorran will have to do; he's only got a sore head."

  "You can't escape from Myon Two."

  Sabre paused to ponder that. "So they brought me home. How nice of them." He glanced at Jorran again. "You're right, I can't escape from this shithole planet, but I reckon I can do a whole hell of a lot of damage before they manage to kill me, and that's what they're going to have to do to stop me."

  "They won't kill you. They'll tranquilise you. You have no hope. There are over a hundred enforcers in this centre alone."

  "So you think if you can convince me that resistance is futile, I'll just let you do whatever you want?" He shook his head. "Think again. I'm going to do as much damage as I possibly can, and I reckon it's going to be quite a lot. Myon Two's worst nightmare just came true. You have a rogue cyber on your hands, at last." Sabre gripped Jorran's collar and hauled him upright to slap his face.

  "They'll stop you," she said.

  "Of course they will, but not before I've done some damage, and all this chit chat is just holding me up, so you can shut up and piss off."

  Jorran came to with a gasp and gaped at Sabre, who dragged the tech to his feet with a bruising hold on his arm. "One wrong move and you die."

  Sabre was clad only in the tight thigh-length shorts cybers wore in their caskets, which made him feel rather exposed. He indicated the resting cyber with a jerk of his head.

  "Tell him to get his clothes off."

  "Cyber, undress," Jorran ordered.

  While the cyber stripped off his armour, Sabre studied Jorran with deep loathing. "You're a spineless worm, aren't you? You're going to discover what pain is all about today, I promise. And I'll kill you before they stop me. Until then, you'll live, so do your best to persuade them to let me go."

  "They won't."

  "Then you're going to die."

  Jorran gulped. "Perhaps there's a way to smuggle you out. There's a yacht on the Delta landing pad. An administrator is visiting, and -"

  "Don't lie to me." Sabre's grip tightened, making Jorran wince. "Don't forget, I know when you're lying. You're just trying to get me into a trap without letting me damage the centre."

  "No, it's true! My agitation is due to panic and trauma."

  Sabre snorted. "Pain and fear, more like. Tell the cyber to guard the door and allow no entry."

  Jorran gave the order, and Sabre dragged him over to the pile of discarded clothes, releasing him to bend and pull on the trousers.

  "Any of you move, and you die. Don't imagine, just because I have one leg in a pair of trousers, that I can't reach you in time. In fact, come over here, all of you."

  They moved closer, keeping Jorran in between, and Sabre dressed quickly. Unfortunately, cybers on Myon Two were never armed, but he felt better once he was clad. The armour and helmet would help to protect him from tranquiliser darts, but he knew once he left the laboratory he would not have long. Sabre clipped on the webbing and surveyed his hostages, revising his plan.

  "Hell, why settle for one hostage when I can have four? You'll surround me. You're all taller than me, except you." He turned to the slim young woman, who was attractive in a dowdy way, her brown hair pulled back in a severe bun. "What's your name?"

  "Estrelle."

  "Right, Estrelle, you'll walk in front. Anyone raises the alarm, he dies. We'll look like a cyber and a bunch of techs out for a stroll. And bring my brother; he'll come in useful, too."

  "Do you have a name?" Estrelle asked, and Jorran cast her a surprised look.

  Sabre turned to her. "As a matter of fact I do, thanks for asking. I'm Sabre." He held out his hand, and she hesitated for only a moment before she clasped it. He nodded. "Brave girl."

  "Someone couldn't pronounce 'cyber'?" Jorran hazarded.

  Sabre took hold of the tech’s collar and twisted it until he gurgled. "Someone gave me a name, and loves me, you piece of shit. I have a life. An Overlord calls me his friend, and a queen wants me to be her husband. A friend risked his life to save me, and beings made of light deemed me worthy of their help. I'm related to them, as it turns out. How many people would save your worthless rat hide, hmmm? How many people love you?"

  "My wife -"

  "Shut up." Sabre jerked his head at Estrelle. "Get going. Lead the way to the production centre."

  Estrelle headed for the door, and Sabre fell in close behind her. Jorran and the other tech walked on either side of him, and the last man followed. His presence so close to Sabre's back made the hair on his nape bristle, and he glanced back with a narrow-eyed, promising look that made the man gulp. The tech was not really a threat. He should know better than to try to attack a cyber from behind, but it did not hurt to make sure he behaved himself, just in case he was overcome by a sudden attack of heroism. The door slid open, and the group entered a deserted corridor, the cyber following at Jorran's command.

  Sabre found it interesting that the research centre had no alarms, but, in a place full of enforcers, enemies would not get far. Unless they were cybers, he mused, something that was supposed to be impossible. Estrelle led them down the corridor and turned into another that ended in a door, which slid open at her approach. They strolled across a tropical garden under a clear dome, the pale clouds of Myon Two visible through it.

  Entering a door on the far side, they marched along another corridor that led into a vast, cathedral-like structure filled with rows of artificial wombs. The plasti-glass containers, filled with yellow fluid, each held a tiny boy child with an umbilical linking him to a placenta that fed off a biological interface. Thousands of artificial wombs lined the room in tiers that reached the ceiling high above, catwalks running between them. Sabre ordered his prisoners to stop and gazed around. Great ropes of cables and feeding tubes hung between the rows like vines, feeding the infants. Tarl had succeeded in destroying a hundred and seventy-eight artificial wombs before he was stopped. Sabre planned to do a great deal more damage than that.

  "All my little brothers..." he muttered, and Estrelle turned to look at him.

  "You're going to kill them?"

  His eyes flicked down to her. "It's an act of mercy."

  "We could take you to a docking port and get you on a ship."

  "No. The enforcers would hunt me down, even with you lot as hostages. It ends here. This is where I die, in the place where I was born. Someone cared about me. Someone saved me from slavery, and now they have me." Sabre gazed around. "I just need to know where the master control is."

  When no one answered, Sabre twisted Jorran's collar again until he gurgled. "The master control panel, now. And tell my brother to break the wombs."

  Jorran pointed to the other side of the room. "Over there. Cyber Fifteen, destroy the artificial wombs."

  The cyber turned to the container beside him and smashed his fist through it, releasing a flood of fluid and a squirming infant. Sabre prodded Estrelle forward. The infants were about four or five months old, too young to survive outside the wombs. The smashing continued behind them as Cyber Fifteen worked his way along the row, and Estrelle led Sabre to a vast bank of lights and keypads. The console was made of metal,
and Sabre eyed it, glancing up at the cables that emerged from it to snake into the walkways above.

  Brushing past Estrelle, he jumped onto the console and reached up to grasp a pair of cables, yanking them from the panel in a shower of sparks. Two rows of artificial wombs went dark as the light and heat elements in them went out, and he gripped another two cables, ripping them from the panel. Another two rows went dark, and he moved on to the next pair of cables. The infants would die within minutes without the oxygen the power provided via the biological interface. Cyber Fifteen's efforts would cost Myon Two a fortune, but Sabre's main aim was to kill as many infants as he could.

  Alarms sounded, and several white-suited techs appeared from an office on the far side of the room, shouting in confusion and alarm. Sabre worked his way along the panel, pulling out the cables, each of which supplied a row of artificial wombs. Two techs sprinted for the door and the other four ran towards them, shouting at Cyber Fifteen to stop. The cyber ignored them. Evidently he was a research and development unit, and the production techs had no command privilege. Sabre jumped down as the techs ran up, their expressions shocked and disbelieving.

  "What's going on here?" the most senior of them demanded.

  Jorran jerked his chin at Sabre. "Ask him."

  "He's a bloody cyber! What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Do you know how much damage you've done?"

  Sabre nodded. "Yes, I do. And I intend to do more. Get over here and join this lot, or die."

  The senior tech gaped at him. "What the...?"

  "He's not under cyber control," Jorran informed them. "He intends to wipe out -"

  Sabre smacked Jorran on the back of the head, making him wince and clasp it, grimacing. "Shut up. You lot, get over here, now!"

  The technician who was furthest away turned and bolted down the row, his white coat flapping. Sabre cursed and picked up a com-unit from the console, hurling it at the fleeing man. It hit him on the back of the head, and he went sprawling.

  "Go fetch him and bring him here. Now!"

  Two techs ran to the unconscious man and dragged him back, dumped him on the floor and joined the little group of hostages. Sabre nodded. "Good, now stay there. Anyone moves, they die."

  Jumping onto the console again, he continued to rip out cables, while Cyber Fifteen started on another row of wombs. More than half the wombs were dark now, and he worked faster, knowing enforcers would arrive soon. The metal-sheathed cables scraped his palms, but he ignored the pain, intent on his mission. Reaching the end of the console, he walked back to the other side, where the last eight cables remained intact. Pulling them out, he jumped down and approached the group of hostages. Estrelle’s eyes shimmered with tears.

  Sabre frowned at her. "What the hell are you blubbering about?"

  "They're just babies."

  "They're unborn cannon fodder! Destined for nothing but suffering and slavery until they're incinerated at age forty! Do not presume to judge me. I wish someone had done this for me. When you've worn a control unit for your entire life, then you can judge!" He turned away, then swung back. "Do you go and play with the toddlers in their pens? Huh? Have you ever dandled a cyber host on your knee?"

  She shook her head, bowing it.

  "But now, they're babies! Give me a break, you hypocritical cow! They're better off dead."

  He started to stride away, then turned back. "Get over here! Surround me and take me to the sensory deprivation department, and get a move on!"

  The group gathered around him, Estrelle moving in front to lead the way out of a side door and into another vast chamber filled with rows and rows of incubators, as they were called. They were the pods in which the new-borns were encased in form-foam until they were a year old. As they passed along one of the rows, heading for the door at the far end, Sabre stopped and broke open a pod. Lifting out a baby, he handed him to Estrelle.

  "Here, have a baby. Now tell me he's not normal."

  Estrelle held the child in trembling hands, tears running down her cheeks. The baby gazed up at her with wide grey eyes and raised a chubby hand to try to touch her face, a smile dimpling his cherub visage. To Sabre's surprise, she cooed to the baby, who giggled and waved his arms in delight.

  "That's the first human contact he's ever had," he said. "Does he look brain-dead to you?"

  She shook her head, then shouts came from behind them, and he shoved her towards the door in the far wall. "Get moving."

  The next door slid open when they reached it, and they entered yet another vast room, this one dark. Rows of tanks filled it, each one containing a five-year-old boy floating in viscous fluid, tubes feeding him air and nutriments. Each boy had glinting golden control unit on his brow, the lights flickering in bright patterns of red and green. Some moved with torpid lethargy, their faces twisted in grimaces, their eyes wide at the light that shone in through the open door behind Sabre. He went over to a bank of switches beside the door and swept his hand across it, flooding the room with light.

  "This is where they lose all hope," he said. "This is where their lives are finally stolen away."

  Sabre went over to the control panel beyond the light switches, but there were no exposed cables to rip out. He glared at the panel of flashing lights and digital readouts, gripping the edge with a growl of fury.

  "Bastards!" he shouted.

  Sabre's face twisted, and his brow band turned electric blue. Jorran gaped at him. Estrelle's eyes widened as she looked up from the baby in her arms, who sucked her finger. The banks of lights turned red, the readouts dropped to zero, and the fluid began to drain from the tanks. Sabre strode to the nearest and opened the door in its side, releasing a gush of sticky liquid. Grabbing the boy within, he pulled the feeding and air tubes from his nose and mouth, wiping the sticky fluid off his face. The boy gazed up at him, his expression dumbstruck.

  "You're free." Sabre gripped his shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Free your brothers."

  The boy nodded, wobbled when Sabre released him and walked towards a tank, slipping on the slimy floor. Sabre opened another tank and freed its occupant, glancing at the group of techs.

  "Don't just stand there like a bunch of dimwits. Lock the door and open the tanks!"

  Estrelle locked the door with her key card, turning to gaze at Sabre as the techs moved to obey. Sabre frowned at her and walked closer.

  "Put him down and help."

  "No... He... I can't just put him on the floor."

  "Why not? He's just a cyber host."

  She shook her head, looking down at the baby. "He... he's a baby."

  "He's a cyber host. Give him to me. I'll break his neck and then you won't have to worry about him."

  "No!" Estrelle shrank away, clutching the child, who whimpered. "I won't let you kill him."

  "Why not? So he can be turned into another killing machine? There are thousands more just like him in the other room, pick another one if you want a toy."

  Estrelle sobbed, shaking her head. "Leave me alone!"

  "They're just going to take him away from you and put him back in his pod when this is over."

  She shook her head again, turning her back on him. "Go away."

  Surprised by her reaction, Sabre turned to the door lock and scrambled the codes, then went to a tank and released its occupant. The boy he pulled out stared through him with blank eyes, his limbs rigid, the lights on his control unit red, and Sabre dropped him with a grunt of disgust. Estrelle walked closer as he turned to open another tank.

  "What about him?"

  "He's catatonic. They'll throw him in the incinerator."

  Estrelle clamped a hand over her mouth before turning away, and he cast her a puzzled frown as he yanked open the door of the next tank. The boy inside flailed and wailed as soon as he was freed from the tubes, his eyes wild. Sabre shook him several times, but he continued his frenzied struggle against no one in particular, the lights on his brow band flickering in a wave pattern. Estrelle turned to watc
h Sabre again. He snapped the boy's neck with a quick twist, and she gasped and squeaked.

  Sabre forced a grim smile. "That one was psychotic. They would have incinerated him, too, except he would have felt the fire."

  "Oh, god," she groaned, looking ill.

  "You have a surprisingly weak stomach for a researcher."

  "I do control unit research, not host."

  "Ah. Pleasant, isn't it? Now you see what good use all your expertise is put to."

  "I thought they were..."

  Sabre snorted. "Yeah, and now you know they're not." He stepped closer. "Whatever you do, don't air your dislike for this to the others, or you'll end up in the dump with the next load of trash, got it?"

  She nodded, and Sabre glanced past her as a thunderous hammering came from the door, sharp-edged bulges appearing on its inside.

  "The enforcers have arrived," he commented, turning to the techs, who opened tanks with studied torpor. "You lot, get a move on! Faster, damn it! Hurry up!"

  The techs worked a little faster, casting furtive glances at him. The freed boys opened doors and dragged out the tanks’ occupants as fast as they could. Sabre looked down as the first boy he had freed came to his side, his eyes full of trepidation.

  "What do we do now, Father?"

  Sabre's mouth twisted. "I'm not your father, boy. I'm your brother. Just get as many out as you can."

  "Do we run, or do we fight?"

  "We fight."

  The boy nodded and hurried off, slipping in the slime.

  Estrelle frowned. "How can you tell him to fight? He's just a boy."

  "There's nowhere to run."

  She gazed at the boy, who opened another tank. "His control unit doesn't control him yet."

  "No. At this age, it's fifty-fifty, and he seems to be well in control, unlike some of the others."

  Estrelle followed his gaze as he turned to look at the other boys, some of whom clearly had problems controlling their limbs. One writhed on the floor, his face twisted, his limbs jerking in paddling motions. Another reached for the handle of a tank, but his hand kept closing before he could grasp it. He chewed his lip, frowning in concentration as he battled for control of his appendage.

 

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