The Cyber Chronicles IX - Precipice (13 page)

Kole frowned at
Sabre. "No change?"

"As you can
see,” Martis said. “Trust me, if he woke up, I'd let you know, or
he would. Coming in here every few hours to ask that question isn't
going to wake him up any faster."

"I just thought
he might have farted or something, just to let us know he's still
alive."

"Nope. Any luck
with your Net contacts?"

Kole settled on
a stool beside the table. "No nibbles yet, but it's only been a few
days. The word has to spread."

"The longer we
wait, the further away Tassin is likely to get, if she was ever
here."

"Yeah, now you
know why Sabre was so pessimistic about finding her. It's like
looking for a grain of sand on a beach. How's your project coming
along then? Have you found a way to wake him up yet?"

Martis shook
his head. "I don't think there's a way to force him to wake up.
He'll do it when he's ready, or not at all."

"Bloody cop
out." Kole leant closer to Sabre. "You hear that, you damned wimp?
You're a cop out. When the going gets tough, you run away and hide
in your own private hellhole."

Martis typed on
his keypad. "He can't hear you, which might be a good thing if
you're fond of having your head attached to your neck."

Estrelle looked
up from her screen. "That's not true."

"Yeah, I know,"
the host tech said. "I hate this waiting. It's getting on my
nerves."

Kole nodded.
"The enforcers aren't enjoying it much either, judging by the
glares I get every time I go out there."

"They just
don't like you, and I don't blame them."

"Ah, there’s so
much friendship in this room. You know, I bet if I offered a Myon
Two host tech for sale, the lowlifes would come crawling out of the
woodwork pretty damned fast."

"And now you
know why nobody likes you," Martis said.

"That's
actually not a bad idea," Estrelle remarked. "We don't have to
actually sell you, but it might get us some leads."

"Great, let's
put you on the market then."

"Fine, if it'll
get us some action, but a control unit tech's not much good to
anyone, really. It's the hosts that get damaged."

"That's true,”
the hacker agreed. “So it'll have to be your bony arse on the
auction block, Martis."

"Very funny.
Put it out there if you think it'll help, but no one's being
auctioned."

Estrelle looked
pensive. "The only problem is, whoever's got Tarl already has a
host tech, so he's the only one who won't be interested, and he's
the one we want."

"Yeah,” Kole
said, “but someone's got to know who already has a cyber tech, and
that's our lead."

"It's a long
shot."

"They're all
long shots. Find me a short shot, and I'll take it." Kole glanced
at the door and pulled a face. "Now I have to run the gauntlet of
black stares out there to get back to Striker."

"Why not do it
from here?" Estrelle asked.

"I prefer my
own equipment." The com-link on Kole’s belt buzzed, and he unhooked
it and read the tiny screen. "Ah, a bite. Someone's enquiring about
getting a cyber repaired. You guys better get ready for some
action."

Martis swung
around, frowning. "He'll have to be brought in here, and we can't
let the enforcers see Sabre."

"Better put him
in a cupboard or something then."

Estrelle looked
at the two caskets stacked at the back of the room. "He'll have to
go in a casket."

"Good idea,”
Martis said. “Open one. Give me a hand, Kole."

The hacker
raised his brows. "He's just a little guy."

"Well he's
heavy, and I don't want a hernia." Martis pulled the drip needle
out of Sabre's arm. "Take his legs."

Martis hooked
his hands under Sabre's armpits, lifting his torso, and Kole
gripped the cyber's ankles. Between them, they carried Sabre over
to the casket Estrelle opened and placed him inside, folding his
hands on his chest. Martis gazed down at him for a moment, then
closed the lid.

"We can't leave
him in there for too long."

"I thought
cybers could stay in caskets for years?" Kole enquired.

"He's not in a
proper cold sleep; his metabolism is still too high. He'll be okay
for now, but we have to put him back on the drip as soon as we
can."

Kole headed for
the door. "I'll go and answer the message."

When the door
closed behind the hacker, Martis turned to Estrelle. "I hope this
unit's not too badly damaged. We don't have any spare parts."

"Yeah, but we
can still do more for him than anyone else in this quadrant."

Three hours
later, a shuttle docked with Pathos, and two shoddily dressed men
escorted a cyber into the hospital, eyeing the two cybers who
guarded the door. Thestan followed, glancing around. Martis went
over to examine the injured cyber, whose arms looked like they had
been pushed into a meat grinder up to the elbows.

"How did this
happen?"

One of the men
said, "None of yer business."

"Right. Get him
on the table and give me access."

The man turned
to the cyber. "Booter Four, lie on the table and let this man touch
you."

The cyber
obeyed, and Martis filled syringes from a selection of bottles.
Kole, who had been standing by the door, walked over to the
men.

"First you have
to pay. Fifty thousand, as agreed."

The man glared
at him, but dug in a pocket and pulled out a credit wafer, handing
it over. "This had better be worth it. We've seen too many damned
conmen pretending to be cyber techs around here."

Kole pocketed
the money. "Really? We're the real deal, I assure you. Have you
heard of any real cyber techs around recently?"

"Nah, just the
usual crooks. You lot are a new bunch, though."

"Yeah, we just
came to this quadrant, heard there was a lot of work here."

The man
sneered, "Yer in the wrong place. There's lots of work for you at
Hades Eleven right now."

"Oh? Why's
that?"

"The games,
dumbass. All the rich arseholes go there to enter their cybers
against the beasts."

Kole pursed his
lips and nodded. "Thanks for the tip. We'll head over there as soon
as your unit's fixed. How long, Martis?"

The host tech
looked up from his examination. "Two or three hours to stitch up
all this damage."

The man glared.
"Any fool can stitch 'im up. What about them drugs you use if yer
real techs?"

"He'll get the
drugs too, but the wounds still have to be stitched first. And if
it isn't done properly, he'll have permanent nerve damage."

"Better be a
good job for fifty thousand."

Kole gestured
to a couple of chairs by the wall. "You can wait there."

The men went
over and flopped down on the chairs, scowling, and Thestan stepped
closer to Kole.

"Where's
Sabre?"

The hacker
shrugged. "Around."

"I thought he
was in here?"

"He comes and
goes."

"No one's seen
him for four days."

Kole smiled.
"We didn't know you were looking for him. I can find him for you if
you want."

"No, no, I just
wondered where he was, that's all."

"Just be glad
he isn't tearing up your exercise room," Estrelle said, handing
Martis cotton swabs from the tray beside the table.

"I am," Thestan
averred. "I'll leave you to it, then."

The
sub-commander left, and Kole breathed a sigh of relief, wandering
over to watch the techs work. Martis hooked up a drip and
administered a painkiller. Estrelle studied the brow band, which
was full of red lights, many of which went off when the drug took
effect. Martis settled on a stool and got to work, examining the
cyber's arm with an analyser before starting to stitch it, to
assure himself that nothing was embedded in the wounds.

Two hours
later, he bandaged the cyber's arms, disconnected the drip and rose
to his feet. "That's it. Keep the bandages dry, and no combat for a
week."

The men stood
up, stretched and yawned, and the cyber followed them out. As soon
as the door shut behind them, Martis turned to Kole.

"Hades
Eleven?"

"Sounds like a
reasonable bet. If whoever has Tarl has cybers, he might be there,
and we have to assume he does, because Tarl's not much use to
anyone else." He headed for the door. "I'll tell Thestan."

****

Two days passed
before Tassin was invited to dine with Tarvin. She spent the time
trying to relax in her cabin or wandering around the ship in search
of a transmitter. Although she appeared to have been given the run
of the vessel, technical areas were sealed off by locked doors with
security keypads. Judging by the view from an observation room
screen, they had left Forge Prime, and she wondered where she was
being taken. Erron had shown her to a dining hall where she could
order food and drink, but remained taciturn. The ship seemed to be
large, as yet she had not even explored all the accessible parts of
it, and she was sure vast areas were sealed off behind the secure
doors.

When Erron
brought her the invitation with his usual glum stoicism, she
rummaged through the voluminous wardrobe and found a subdued,
spinsterish outfit of dark green velvet with a high collar and long
sleeves, its waistline too wide for her slender figure. While
tasteful and expensive, it was anything but alluring, which was the
look she wanted. She scraped back her hair into a severe bun and
donned a pair of flat shoes to complete the outfit. Erron escorted
her along several corridors to a tastefully furnished, dimly
lighted room, where Tarvin waited at a four-place table in a dining
alcove, reading a vidbook. Gossamer draperies of blue silk hung on
the walls, and golden lights shone from recesses near the ceiling.
He looked up when she entered and put down the book, gesturing to a
cushioned, high-backed dark blue velvet chair trimmed with gold on
one side of the table, close to where he sat.

He studied her
outfit. "Not what I was expecting you to wear, but nice."

"What were you
expecting?"

"Something a
little prettier, perhaps?"

"Why would I
want to be pretty?" she enquired.

"Most women
do."

"I'm not most
women."

"That's true."
He smiled, and Erron filled their glasses with ruby wine. "You're a
queen."

"Yes, I am. Do
you doubt it?"

"I am more and
more convinced of it."

"Good. Then
you'll show me the proper respect for my rank and return me to my
kingdom."

"Right. The one
on Omega Five." He nodded. "A backwater planet. Post holocaust,
isn't it?"

"Yes, but it's
my home."

"Of course, you
miss your family, I expect. Brothers and sisters?"

"No, I'm an
only child. I have an uncle and a cousin, and my fiancé, Sabre, of
course."

Tarvin leant
back, looking down at his glass. "You love him?"

"Yes.”

“Unfortunate.”

“He will find
me, and when he does..."

"I'll be
sorry?"

Tassin nodded.
"More than you could ever know."

"So he's a
powerful man?"

"He’s an
Overlord's friend."

Tarvin frowned
at his wine. "An easy claim to make; but even so, the chances of
his finding you are slim to none, and his Overlord friend won't
help him."

"He will find
me," she repeated, and wondered if that was true. Sabre might be a
prisoner of Myon Two, trapped and helpless, and he might never get
free. She had to find a transmitter.

"You don't look
very certain of that," Tarvin remarked. “Hardly surprising, since
he’s vanished and, for all you know, he could be dead.”

"He’s not dead,
and he’ll overcome whatever has befallen him and return to Omega,
then he’ll find out that I’m gone. I know it will be difficult, so
it may take a while, but he’ll come for me one day."

"I’m sure he
will search for you, but when he doesn’t find you he will
eventually give up."

She sipped her
wine. "I find it odd that a high king would choose to dine with a
slave. Is it because I’m a queen? Don't you have any friends or
courtiers? If I'm kept here against my will, I won't be good
company, you know."

"That will be a
shame. I have enjoyed your company thus far."

"Be assured,
that won’t continue, so you’d be well advised to let me go."

He shook his
head. "That's not going to happen."

"Will you buy
Tarl, then? I'd feel a lot better if he was here."

"We are on our
way to my home world, so I'm afraid not."

Tassin fingered
the selection of cutlery on the table, which included some fairly
blunt knives. "What would happen if I held one of these to your
throat? I think perhaps I would be taken home if I did, don't
you?"

"No, I wouldn't
recommend it. You would be hurt, perhaps even killed."

She glanced
around. "Cybers?"

"I am never
without them. For a man in my position, with my disability, I have
to ensure my security." He smiled. "Although I would be able to
cope with you on my own, even without the benefit of legs."

"On Omega Five,
royalty are trained in the art of combat, and war."

"Naturally, but
I somehow doubt you could overpower me."

Tassin raised
her chin. "I have sparred with a cyber."

Tarvin
chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Did you win?"

"No more than
you did, of course, but I have skills. Perhaps more than you credit
me with. At least I didn’t end up with a broken back."

"No need to be
unpleasant. And it's not your skills I doubt. I'm sure they're
considerable. It's your strength. You are a little on the small
size to be threatening anyone, especially a trained fighter like
myself." He sipped his wine. "But how did you come to spar with a
cyber?"