The Cyber Chronicles Book II: Death Zone (8 page)

Tassin woke
again and drank more water, but would not eat. He examined her
ankle, which was black and swollen around the bite. Deciding that
she could not walk, he continued to carry her. She laid her head
against his chest and closed her eyes. He assumed that she was
asleep, and he hoped the rest would speed her recovery.
Flux-reality became more and more unsubstantial, and Purr was glad
to be out of real Flux-reality, judging by his gambolling.

Tassin's leg
worried Sabre. The blackened flesh was not healing, and he wondered
if the damage was too severe. If so, there was a significant risk
of an infection setting in, and his tube of antibiotic cream would
not do much good if that happened. Even the antibiotic injections
might not be able to stop it.

Late in the
afternoon, he left behind the last vestige of Flux-reality and
emerged into the rocky Real-reality that bounded the Death Zone.
The mist swirled around him in damp streamers, and at every step he
expected to emerge into the desert once more. The mosscat stopped
and sat down, regarding him sadly.

"The Flux ends
a few feet from here."

Sabre turned
to his strange companion. "We're very grateful to you, Purr."

The mosscat
shrugged. "It was an interesting adventure. Few have ever crossed
the Flux. You proved able to deal with the dangers. I'm
impressed."

"What will you
do now?"

"I shall
explore this side of the Flux, perhaps it's more pleasant than the
other."

Sabre glanced
around. "I hope so, for your sake. Maybe you'll find others of your
kind here."

Purr chuckled.
"There are no others of my kind. I'm unique, as is every creature
of the Flux. I came into being within the Flux. I was moulded by
its magic."

Sabre shifted
his sleepy burden, and Tassin sighed, her arms tightening around
his neck. "I hope I can find medicine for her on the other side of
the desert."

"I hope so
too. When she wakes, tell her that I wish her well, and please stay
out of the Flux."

Sabre smiled.
"I will. Take care, Purr."

"Fare you
well, Sabre." Purr rose and ambled back the way he had come,
vanishing into the mist.

Sabre walked
towards the mist wall, and experienced a weird sensation akin to
what he imagined it would be like to wade through syrup, then he
staggered into the early morning sunlight of the Real-reality
desert. He laid the Queen down and rigged the petticoat on a stick
for shade before lying down to sleep.

At dusk, Sabre
set out across the desert. Tassin stumbled beside him, aided by his
grip on her arm. She surveyed the moonlit wasteland with dull eyes,
and he told her that they were out of the Death Zone. He let her
drink all the water she wished, hoping she would regain her
strength. The wound weakened her despite the antibiotic injections
he gave her and the cream he smeared on it. For three nights, she
walked, and he hoped the exercise would get her blood flowing and
help to fight the infection. At the end of the third night, she
seemed exhausted, and fell asleep the moment she lay down.

That day she
woke him several times as she tossed and moaned in her sleep. When
he shook her from her restless slumber in the red glow of sunset,
she would not even try to walk, but sat staring at the ground. She
turned her head away when he attempted to persuade her to eat a
shrivelled tuber. He ate a little, then slung the packs over his
shoulders and picked her up. Tassin gazed at him with hopeless eyes
while he walked, then laid her head against his chest and fell
asleep again. Twice during the night he stopped to rest, going down
on one knee and supporting her on the other to ease his arms for a
while. Tassin did not wake when he put her down at dawn. He ate the
last of the food and sipped a little water.

When Sabre
woke at dusk, he realised that she had slipped into a coma. He
dribbled water into her mouth, but there was not much left. Sabre
walked all night, resting three times, and when the sun rose, he
searched the horizon for signs of greenery. The water was finished,
and he was starting to feel the effect of its lack, since he had
given Tassin most of it. The cyber's host status light went from
steady orange to blinking red, a warning of his dehydration that he
did not need.

That night, he
carried Tassin over his shoulder, since it made no difference to
her and was easier for him. He was forced to detour twice, once for
a patch of radiation and again for a mauve dot on the scanners that
warned of a sand dragon. The fact that the scanners were working
again hardly registered on his fatigue-dulled brain, and he reacted
to its information instinctively.

Three nights
later, Sabre walked like a zombie, barely aware of his
surroundings. Once he wandered into a pocket of radiation, not
realising until he was in the middle of it, his tired mind ignoring
the cyber's warning for a while. Hoping it would not make Tassin
sick, he trudged on, more alert now. When he put the girl down at
dawn, her shallow breathing and deathly pallor concerned him. He
scanned the horizon with burning eyes. As the light strengthened, a
smudge became visible in the distance. Greenery? Clouds? Hope
swelled in him, and he lay down to sleep with a lighter heart.

That night he
tried to walk faster, stumbling over stones. Tassin seemed to have
grown heavier, and his breath rasped through sand-caked nostrils.
Dust rimed his skin and mixed with sweat to form a cement around
his eyes and lips. He was forced to rest several times, as his
strength began to fail, but he refused to give up. The flashing red
host status light became a steady one, warning him that he was
close to collapse. His bio-status was only forty per cent. When the
sun rose again, it lighted the line of green ahead, and the promise
of water lured him on. Knowing that Tassin hovered close to death,
he pushed himself to his limit in the burning sun.

At midday he
stumbled into sparse grass, where hardy shrubs struggled to grow,
twisted by radiation. He rested for a while, aware of the danger of
falling asleep and not waking again. Catching himself dozing off,
he stood up and staggered forward, his steps dragging. The passing
landscape blurred before his exhausted eyes, swimming around him.
It grew greener, and the grass became lusher as the bushes turned
into trees. The cyber detected water two kilometres ahead, and
Sabre staggered on, knowing that if he stopped, he might not get up
again.

When he
reached the creek, he laid Tassin on the grass beside it and knelt
to scoop up the trickle of water with shaking hands, gulping the
brackish liquid. He had to force himself to stop and give some to
her, and she coughed as it ran down her throat. After digging a
pool to collect the seepage, Sabre washed his face and wiped the
dust from Tassin's, gave her more water and sipped some
himself.

As it revived
him, he took stock of the scrubby, arid landscape, reminding
himself that this was not Flux-reality, and would not change. On
the other side of a stretch of golden grassland, a verdant jungle
grew, overhung with clouds. The activity on the scanners showed
that it teemed with life; a veritable larder once he was strong
enough to hunt.

Late in the
afternoon, the cyber's host status light stopped flashing and
changed to amber, and a little of his strength returned. He walked
to the edge of the jungle, where he found the herbs he needed to
make a poultice for Tassin's wound. A chill invaded the air at
dusk, and Sabre shared the blankets with the Queen, too tired to be
bothered by her presence.

The next day,
he rigged the petticoats over her for shade, then stripped and
bathed in the meagre trickle of water, scrubbing the dirt from his
clothes. He dozed for the rest of day, rousing only to drink and
give Tassin more water. At dusk he changed the poultice, pleased to
find the wound improved. The following day her colour was better,
and he spent it recovering his strength and letting the poultice do
its work, then fell asleep beside her at dusk.

Tassin
crawling over him to reach the pool woke Sabre, and he sat up,
rubbing his eyes. "You're awake."

She scooped up
handfuls of water and gulped it down, too intent on slaking her
thirst to pay him any attention. He watched her with a smile.
"You've been unconscious for quite a while. I lost track of the
number of days. We're out of the Death Zone. We made it to the
other side. Purr stayed behind."

Sabre let her
drink until he calculated that she had had enough, then pulled her
away. "Enough now, take it easy. You'll get sick if you drink too
much. Take a break, the water's not going anywhere. You can have
more in a few minutes. Give your stomach a chance to get used to it
again. You're still thirsty because you haven't absorbed it yet,
and bloating yourself won't help."

Tassin gazed
longingly at the water, then, knowing that he was right, tore her
eyes from it. To distract herself, she studied him. Considering
that he had carried her all the way across the desert, he showed
surprisingly few ill effects. Lines of fatigue bracketed his mouth,
he was a little thinner, and his lips were cracked and scabbed. He
had washed, shaved, and shorn his hair again, making the white
lines that ran through it almost invisible.

Realising that
she was staring at him, she looked away and fingered the bandage on
her leg. "What is this?"

"The bite from
the rock snake caused an infection. Although the poison was left
behind, you were still very sick. That dressing is making it
better."

Tassin rubbed
her face, surprised to find it clean. "How long did you carry me,
without water?"

"Six nights
and half a day."

"I did not
think it was possible for a man to go that long without water,
especially carrying a burden."

He smiled.
"It's not. I'm a not a man."

"You look like
one to me."

"Looks can be
deceiving."

Tassin sighed
and turned to gaze across the golden grass at the dense green wall
of vegetation beyond it. She was not in the mood to argue with him
now.

"So much for
paradise. I would not call a jungle paradise."

"No. But
perhaps there's something better beyond it."

She slumped,
dejected. "I am so tired of walking. I don't think I can walk
another step."

"Not right
now, but you'll feel better once you're stronger and your leg's
healed. There's plenty of game in the jungle. I'll soon have you
fattened up and fit again."

Tassin forced
a wan smile, unconvinced.

They rested by
the pool until the afternoon, by which time she had slaked her
thirst. Then they moved upstream into the shade of a tree, where
the stream ran more strongly. Sabre built a fire and left to hunt
in the forest, admonishing her to climb the tree if anything nasty
came along. Since the forest was less than a kilometre away, she
would be within scanner range.

Sabre returned
before dark, carrying a buck and an armload of fruit. The animal's
throat had been slit, and she wondered if he had used the cyber to
catch it. He dumped his load, and she selected a bright orange
fruit while he gathered more firewood and cleaned the buck. Her
appetite returned, sparked by the succulent fruit, and they feasted
on roast meat, after which she fell into a sated sleep.

Gearn gave a
crow of triumph and turned to look back at the shimmering Death
Zone barrier, now behind him.

"It
worked!"

Murdor gazed
around, scratching his head. "You sure yer didn't just turn us
around?" he asked. He had watched the wizard's efforts for days
now, and had developed a healthy scorn for the bungling mage.

"Of course I
am sure!" Gearn retorted. "I know when my magic has worked." He
turned to the panting wolf. "Find the trail, if there is one. We
have to catch up."

Gearn gathered
up his precious potions and packed them into the saddlebags, then
they waited for the wolf to return. Murdor sat in the shade of the
tent the mage had conjured for him and wished he was back in Arlin,
supping ale in a taproom. The mage did his best to provide whatever
Murdor wanted, but the ale he conjured was weak and tasteless. The
gladiator had grown tired of the hardships of travelling across the
desert, and almost regretted the deal he had made.

When the wolf
returned, several hours later, his eyes were bright with excitement
as he gambolled away in the direction whence he had come, pausing
to look back. Murdor gathered, from his antics, that the beast had
found the trail. Gearn mounted his horse and followed him. The
gladiator trudged after them, part of him hoping they had only been
turned around, and the trail would lead back to Arlin.

Sabre glanced
across the fire at Tassin as he turned the spit upon which their
supper, a wild pig, was impaled. Her bruises had faded, and
although she still looked tired, her tanned skin glowed with health
once more. They had camped by the stream for five days to allow her
to recover her strength. He had built a rude shelter to keep off
the dew, and hunted every day. Her wound had healed, speeded by the
good food and the poultice he renewed each afternoon.

They had spent
many hours in idle conversation, and he found her to be a pleasant
companion, well-versed in many subjects. Thanks to the cyber, he
was a font of information, most of which she would not understand,
so he kept to topics she knew something about. She had mellowed
considerably, he found, and although she still did not help much
with the camp chores, she treated him more as a companion than a
servant now. He lowered his gaze to the fire.

"We should
move on, you know. We can't camp here forever. There may be people
beyond the forest. Perhaps even civilisation. Just think, soft
beds, good food, pretty clothes, servants and princes."