The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord

by T C Southwell

  Sabre nodded. "You're going to try."

  "Now?"

  "No. Some other time." Sabre turned away, then swung back. "There's a wall, in my mind. What happens when that fails?"

  "For real? Your base instincts block is failing?"

  "Yes. What happens then?"

  Martis shook his head. "It shouldn't be able to fail. But okay, yeah, if it does, you're in trouble."

  "What kind of trouble?"

  "The psychosis kind?"

  "Why?"

  Martis shrugged, looking ill at ease. "Because then you'd become human."

  "Aren't I human now?"

  "You're kind of fifty-fifty... or maybe forty-sixty... not entirely human."

  "And when the wall fails...?" Sabre enquired.

  "All the human shit is unleashed on a machine-trained brain."

  "I won't be able to cope?"

  Martis shook his head. "Highly unlikely."

  "Why not?"

  "It's hard to explain so you'll understand. You're a cyborg; you've never known human interaction... I don't know." Martis threw up his hands. "Maybe you'll be okay if I hypnotise you first. I can build a bridge... maybe."

  Sabre nodded. "You're going to do it when we have more time."

  "Who made you the boss?"

  "I did."

  "So now you're a bully, just because you're tough?"

  Sabre looked down, frowning, then shook his head. "No. I can't force you to help me, but I want you to."

  "I'm not sure it's the best thing for you."

  "I am."

  Martis nodded. "I'll think about it."

  "The wall is going to fail, whether you help me or not."

  Sabre swung away and went over to the console, aimed the cyber at it and activated it. The shuttle jerked as it undocked from the drone ship and fell towards the planet. Several other ships hung in orbit around them, and shuttle craft moved between them. Sooner or later, someone would come to investigate a Myon Two drone ship, and it would be better if they were not still attached to it when that happened.

  Sabre set course for a deserted surface-craft airfield and locked it into the shuttle's guidance computer. Deactivating the brow band, he turned to gaze at the racks of transport units. It would be better to kill all the cybers, but the only way to do that was to open the caskets and shoot each one, a prospect he did not relish. The cybers were safe in their caskets, but if they were woken, they would become a problem. Without owners, they would remain passive until forced to seek food, at which time they would definitely cause a commotion. Still, it was not his problem. As long as they were left alone, they would remain in cold sleep for about twenty-five years.

  Going over to the pile of equipment he had removed from the lid of the casket, he filled his webbing with all the weapons it would hold, clipping the medical pouch onto the clasp that held it in the small of his back. He wore the standard cyber issue clothes he had donned on Myon Two, which consisted of a pair of stretchy camouflage trousers, a tight, pale grey vest, sturdy black boots with duel grip soles, and the webbing. Strapping the rotating wrist laser, grenade launcher combo onto his right forearm, he checked the mechanism. It spun around with a soft whirr, alternating between laser and launcher. Whichever was on top was the active weapon, its firing mechanism on a pad that protruded into the lower part of his palm, where he could press it with his middle finger.

  Sabre wished he could wear the armour as well, but, although it was lightweight, it was too bulky to fit inside Martis' worker's uniform. Martis took the uniform off and handed it to him, looking uneasy in the white host tech uniform he wore under it. Sabre eyed it, wondering if Martis realised just how much he hated anyone clad in white coveralls. When he was dressed in the dull blue worker's uniform, Sabre cut a strip of casket silk and tied it around his head to conceal the brow band, then watched the airfield rise towards them in the screen. Several minutes later, the shuttle touched down in a perfect landing, clonked, creaked and swayed a bit, then the door unsealed with a hiss.

  Warm, balmy air flooded in, and Estrelle breathed it in with a sigh. Throwing off the silk, she headed for the door. Martis followed, and Sabre turned to the locking pad beside the door and scrambled the codes with the cyber. If anyone tried to open the shuttle, it would take them several weeks to break the code. Outside, he glanced around, his immediate impression of the planet one of dampness. The humidity was oppressive, and sweat popped out on his brow. Low clouds moved languidly across the sky, and lush vegetation filled every unpaved area. This had once been a jungle planet, which rich tycoons had cleared at vast expensive to provide a playground in which to indulge their perverted fantasies.

  Spotting several parked hover cars, Sabre headed towards them, the techs following. He selected a cheap eco-car and used the cyber to unlock and start it, sliding into the driver's seat. The techs climbed in, Martis beside him, Estrelle at the back. Sabre guided the car onto the fly-way, joining a stream of expensive traffic. He headed for the nearest city, looking for a Net booth. They entered a metropolis of widely spaced, towering glass spires, vast areas of paving and lawn between them. The city had been designed to accommodate the extremely rich, with no possibility of growth changing it. All expansion took place on the outskirts, so the city could grow bigger, but not become more crowded.

  Artistic clumps of the original jungle grew between concrete roads and areas of mosaic paving that extended for kilometres, dotted with dancing fountains and outlandish statues. The people who wandered through the extravagant landscape wore flowing, diaphanous gowns or almost nothing at all, and were bedecked with jewels, gold, feathers, furs and anything else they deemed to be pretty. Exotic animals accompanied some, spotted cats and bright birds, furry beasts that clung to shoulders or were carried in the arms of overdressed women. Most of the women were artificially enhanced, owning overlarge assets, too-refined features, too-thick hair, ridiculously long eyelashes and bloated lips.

  Estrelle stared at them in overt fascination, and Martis tried to hide his embarrassment. Spotting a Net booth, Sabre parked the car between two sleek vehicles and got out. A cloying stench of perfume or incense assailed his sensitive nose and made his eyes water. Martis gawped at a trio of young girls that flounced past, their breasts bouncing as if filled with helium. They giggled and waved to him, casting Sabre coquettish looks, and Estrelle came to his side, looking annoyed.

  "Shut your mouth, Martis, you're drooling."

  The young tech blushed and looked away, then recoiled as a tall woman with a massive bosom and a veritable mane of bright purple hair, clad in little more than a G-string and nipple caps, brushed past him. She trailed her fingers along his cheek and blew him a kiss. Sabre smiled, glad that he was not the object of attention for a change. Martis stared after the woman, his mouth open again.

  "Wow, did you see her?"

  Sabre chuckled. "Hard to miss, which I think is the point, and that was a he, not a she."

  "A what?"

  "Well, she used to be a he."

  "That was a man?" Martis looked shocked.

  "Ex-man."

  "How can you tell?"

  Sabre shrugged. "Scanners, Host Tech Martis. Ask Estrelle."

  "The scanners can distinguish between male and female anatomy," Estrelle supplied, "based on bone structure, muscle density, fat content and even brain mass."

  "At last, she's found something she knows more about than you." Sabre headed for the Net booth.

  A fat man in a tight pink leotard occupied it, and Sabre leant against the wall outside the door, waiting for him to finish. Martis gaped at the exotic people who flounced, swayed, skipped or tottered past on high heels. Estrelle looked irritable, glancing down at her baggy worker's overall, which hid any curves she had. Sabre found their reactions fascinating, wondering why Martis found these strange people so intoxicating, and why they seemed to annoy Estrelle. Her irritation vanished when a fine-featured man with bright blue eyes flashed a perfect white smile at her. His blond h
air looked like it was plastic, and his skin had a golden shimmer. His sheer white vest and skin-tight pale fawn trousers revealed rather too much of his muscular physique.

  The stranger leant against the wall near Estrelle, his eyes drinking her in, then sidled closer and murmured, "You could be a knockout with a few enhancements. Have you just arrived?"

  She nodded, smoothing her hair. "Yes."

  He stroked her arm. "You need some nice clothes, don't you?"

  Sabre frowned, noticing the odd, intoxicating scent the man gave off. Estrelle nodded, apparently entranced, and now Martis looked annoyed. The stranger's attention was riveted to Estrelle, and he leant closer still.

  "You need a place to stay, too, don't you?"

  She nodded again, blushing. "Yeah."

  "I can help you."

  "Would you?"

  "I'd love to," he said, smiling. "I have an apartment just around the corner. You can stay there. Then we'll go shopping, and visit a beauty parlour and a spa, have some drinks at a club and dance the night away. What do you say?"

  "Yes!" Estrelle giggled.

  "No." Sabre pushed himself away from the wall and stepped closer.

  The stranger glanced around, his smile widening. "Well hello there. You must be the chauffeur? Or the bodyguard, maybe?"

  "I'm the guy who's going to rip your false face off if you don't leave her alone."

  "Sabre!" Estrelle scowled at him. "He's just being friendly. We do need a place to stay."

  "No, we don't."

  "Yes, we do. And anyway, you're not in charge of me. I'll do as I want. This nice man wants to help me."

  "Vork." The dapper man lifted Estrelle’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "At your service. Whatever you want, you should have. Your beauty commands it."

  "Don’t be an idiot, Estrelle," Sabre said. "There's got to be strings attached. He's not just being nice. No one's that nice."

  "How would you know? Anyway, like I said, I do as I want. There's no need for us to stay together anymore. You're free to do your thing, and I'll do mine."

  Vork tugged her away, and she giggled as he leant close to murmur in her ear.

  Martis frowned at Sabre. "You're just going to let him take her away?"

  The cyber shrugged. "What do you want me to do about it? She wants to go with him. You stop her."

  "As if I could. But this isn't right. We should stick together."

  "She's free to do as she pleases."

  "I guess." Martis was clearly disgruntled. "But I think that guy's up to something."

  "I agree."

  Sabre glanced around at the Net booth, discovering that while he had been distracted, the fat man had left and two tall women had entered it. They were clasped together in a clinch, and a moment later the glass cubicle darkened, shutting out prying eyes.

  Sabre cursed and swung away. "I think those two are going to be a while. We should find another booth."

  He set off across the expanse of mosaic paving towards another glass building.

  Martis fell into step beside him. "You said we were in danger of being drugged and dragged off to an orgy, and that's what just happened to Estrelle, isn't it?"

  "I think so. I detected an exotic scent from Vork. It's probably a mind-altering drug."

  "Then shouldn't you save her?"

  "As she said, I'm not her keeper, and if I tried to intervene, she would fight just as hard as Vork, which would cause a commotion."

  "So you're just going to abandon her?" Martis demanded.

  "She didn't want my help."

  "She was drugged! I want you to save her."

  Sabre turned his head. "I'm not your servant, either."

  "Please."

  The cyber stopped and faced the host tech. "My priority is to get a message to Overlord Fairen and get the hell off this shithole planet, not rescue stupid girls from their idiocy."

  "She helped to save you! In fact, it was her idea!"

  Sabre frowned, glancing in the direction in which Estrelle and her amiable abductor had gone. "I guess gratitude isn't one of my more evolved human emotions."

  "And you hate cyber techs."

  "That too."

  "Please..."

  Sabre sighed. "Wait right here. Don't move."

  The cyber loped away across the square. Locating Estrelle's tagged life sign amongst the thousands that filled the scanners, he headed for it. He spotted the pair outside a crowded mall, and followed them inside, cursing the crush of people in it. Estrelle clung to Vork's arm, giggling as he murmured in her ear. Sabre walked up behind them and gripped Estrelle's neck, pressing on the nerve bundles below her ears. She collapsed, and Vork gave a yelp of surprise. Sabre bent and scooped her up, hoisted her onto his shoulder and cast Vork a tight smile.

  "She's mine. Find another."

  Sabre headed for the door, and Vork was apparently too stunned to protest. People cast Sabre startled looks as he passed them, and a few stopped to stare after him. Outside the crowded mall, he broke into a lope, impatient to get back to Martis before he was abducted, too.

  The host tech waited where he had left him, and his jaw dropped when Sabre trotted up to him.

  "You had to knock her out?"

  "Yup. Best way to avoid a ruckus. I wasn't going to waste my time arguing with her. Come on."

  Sabre continued towards the next glass building, which had an empty Net booth beside the entrance. Turning to Martis, he lifted Estrelle off his shoulder and held her out.

  "Here, take her."

  Martis staggered as Sabre dumped the girl in his arms, protesting, "She's heavy. Can't you wake her up?"

  "No, she's still drugged. She'll argue, and she weighs next to nothing."

  "To you, maybe." Martis grimaced, struggling with the limp girl.

  Sabre turned to enter the Net booth, only to find that a fat woman in a bikini now filled it, and he cursed. "Damn it, there are too many bloody people on this planet."

  Martis sat down on the wall that edged a flowerbed, holding Estrelle on his lap. Sabre paced up and down for a while, then joined him. Martis patted Estrelle's cheek, trying to wake her up.

  "You're wasting your time. She's out for thirty minutes, no matter what you do," Sabre informed him.

  "Nerve block?"

  "Yup. What, do you think I used a sledgehammer?"

  "You wouldn't have to."

  The fat woman in the Net booth gesticulated and wept, mopping her face with a tissue. "Great,” Sabre said, “looks like this one's going to be in there all day, too."

  Two red-flagged human life signs appeared on Sabre's scanners, and he frowned, then cursed. "There are enforcers on this world."

  Martis looked around in alarm. "Where?"

  "A long way off, but still, it might mean Myon Two has already started searching for us."

  "Or they might just be here on holiday."

  "Possible, but unlikely."

  “How can you identify them?”

  “Weapons’ configuration.” Sabre watched a group of girls walk past, wondering what it was about them that seemed odd. When he consulted the scanners, his brows rose in surprise.

  "What is it?" Martis demanded.

  "Those girls..." Sabre frowned. "They've got control units embedded in their skulls."

  "What?"

  "Tiny ones. Their hooks are not like mine. They're only on the surface of the brain, probably implanted after adulthood. Just enough to stimulate endorphins and promote submissive behaviour."

  Martis studied the four giggling girls. "They're slaves?"

  "Effectively, yes. I'm not a tech, but why else would they implant a control unit in a girl?"

  Martis looked puzzled. "Why would they do it at all?"

  "They're pretty, I guess." Sabre tracked the enforcers again. "The enforcers are getting close. We should move on."

  "You don't have a locator, do you?"

  "No." Sabre stood up. "Mine was deactivated long ago. Unless they fitted me with a new o
ne while I was unconscious."

  "It's possible. We should find somewhere to rest, so I can examine you."

  Chapter Eight

  Sabre cast a last irritated glance at the fat woman, whose weeping was fogging up the plasti-glass booth, then bent and scooped Estrelle from Martis' arms. Hoisting her over his shoulder, he strode into the building. The lift took them up to the fourth floor, where they walked along the corridor until Sabre found an empty room. He opened the door with the cyber and entered a plush hotel suite decorated in fawn and mauve, with plump pink sofas in the lounge, chrome and glass tables and a well-stocked bar counter with a polished wooden top. Sabre went into the bedroom, where the mauve carpet extended up the walls, dumped Estrelle on the king-sized bed and turned to Martis.

  "How will you find it?"

  "It must be somewhere your scanners can't see, so it has to be above your shoulders. I wish I had some equipment. I'll just have to look for a lump or scar."

  Sabre sat on the bed. "Hurry up, then."

  Martis licked his lips, clearly nervous, then bent and examined Sabre's scalp, running his fingers over the stubble that covered it. "You have a lot of scars."

  "That one was made by a sword, on... a long time ago. When you find one I don't know about, I'll let you know."

  Martis worked his way over and around Sabre's head, pointing out well-known scars. His study brought him around to Sabre's face, which he examined minutely, coming uncomfortably close to do it. Sabre stared through him, fighting the urge to push the tech away. He had undergone too many such examinations by men in white coats. It brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. Martis paused as he ran his fingers along the edge of Sabre's jaw, close to his ear.

  "What's this?"

  "I don't know."

  "There's a tiny scar here, under your jaw."

  "I don't know it."

  Martis knelt to peer at the scar, probing it. "There's something hard in it. I think this is it."

  "Bastards." Sabre opened his overall and pulled out his knife. "Here, cut it out."

  "No, god, I need a scalpel."

  "In the medikit."

  Martis found the scalpel and told Sabre to lie down and lift his head to expose the underside of his jaw. The young tech wiped his sweaty hands on his uniform, but they still shook.