The Cyber Chronicles IX - Precipice (28 page)

"Let's hope he
doesn't have brain damage," another voice remarked.

Sabre glanced
around for its source. Martis stood behind him, and backed away,
looking alarmed. The cyber struggled to his knees, his muscles
barely obeying him. His breath came in ragged gasps and his heart
raced at two hundred and ten beats per minute.

"Let me go!"
Tassin growled.

Sabre turned to
look at her again, noting that Kole's grip on her arm held her
back. He tried to speak, but only a hiss issued from his aching
throat.

"He's not
himself, Tassin," Tarl said. "Let him get his bearings."

Sabre shook his
head, striving for clarity, and ordered the cyber to initiate an
energy burst. His bio-status was only at forty-two per cent, but
strength surged through him on a tide of adrenalin. He rose to his
feet, causing most of the people around him to retreat, except
Tassin, who strained towards him. Tarl cursed, and Kole backed
away, dragging her. She fought to get free, and Sabre stepped
towards her.

"Let her go,"
he grated.

Her eyes were
full of anguish, and tears ran down her cheeks. What was she so
upset about? The energy burst, weak as it was, drained away, and
darkness slammed down.

Tarl swore as
Sabre collapsed. His arm clipped a portable monitor and sent it
skidding away. More instruments clattered to the floor around the
cyber as he sprawled face down, senseless. Tarl reached him in a
stride, and Kole released Tassin, who ran to kneel beside the
cyber. Tarl gripped Sabre's shoulder and rolled him onto his back.
The brow band was full of flashing red lights, and blood oozed from
his nose. He picked him up and placed him on the bed.

"What's wrong
with him?" she demanded.

"He's just
confused. The last thing he remembers is drifting in space, dying.
He shouldn't even be awake yet. He can't see properly, and he's as
weak as a nair kitten. He was dreaming, too, that's why he attacked
me."

"Or he's brain
damaged," Martis muttered.

Tarl swung on
him with a frown. "Will you shut up, or piss off!"

"Well he could
be."

"He's not!"
Tarl plugged the data cable, which Sabre had ripped out when he had
rolled off the bed, back into the brow band, and swore. "Damn it,
his bio-status is down to thirty-four per cent again. He must have
used an energy burst. That's how he was able to stand up."

Tarl pulled the
monitoring console closer and typed on the keyboard. When Sabre had
rolled off the bed, it had taken him by surprise, especially since
the cyber's eyes had been closed, and according to the monitor he
was still unconscious. Tarl had only realised that Sabre was
dreaming when the cyber had gripped his throat. That had been a
scary moment. He wondered what the dream had been about. Nothing
good, that was certain.

Yet, even in
his confused state, he had recognised Tarl and Tassin, which was a
good sign. Martis' constant carping about brain damage was really
irritating, and he longed to order the host researcher out. Martis
might be an expert on host design, but he had no idea of their
capabilities under duress. Tarl had seen more damaged cybers than
he cared to remember, and he knew how resilient they were. Seeing
Sabre in this state, however, was hard for him, and more so for
Tassin, who wiped tears from her cheeks.

"He's going to
be all right," he assured her. "Normally a cyber wouldn't wake up
in this state, because the control unit is shut down. I'm going to
have to sedate him for a while."

She nodded.
"Whatever you think is best."

Tarl pushed the
drip needle back into Sabre's arm and injected the line with a
powerful sedative, one of the few that worked on a cyber. The
medics wandered off, muttering. Kole sank down on a chair with a
sigh, and Martis frowned at the monitor. Tarl sat on one of the
stools that had been placed around Sabre's bed for his visitors and
massaged the back of his neck. Tassin perched on the edge of the
bed and held Sabre's hand, her brow furrowed with worry.

"Why do you
think he attacked you?" she asked.

Tarl shook his
head. "God only knows. Considering how many fights he's been in, he
could have been dreaming about anything from an alien beast to a
war bot. He wasn't attacking me. He stopped when he heard my voice.
I should have realised, and sedated him earlier on. I'd forgotten
he has dreams. I'm still adjusting to his many differences."

"But he's all
right, isn't he? He's not brain damaged."

Tarl hesitated,
loath to lie to her. "I don't know, quite honestly. Martis could be
right, much as I hate to admit it. If any part of his brain froze,
there could be damage. If it did, it most likely happened around
the implants, which would have damaged his motor and speech
centres, but he was able to stand up, and speak, so I think he's
fine."

Tassin glanced
at him. "But we won't know for sure until he wakes up."

"No. I could do
a brain scan, which might show damaged areas, but... Let's just
wait, okay?"

"If he is brain
damaged, he's likely to be dangerous," Martis commented.

Tarl swung
around. "Piss off, Martis. You're not helping. Speculating is
pointless."

"I was just
making an -"

"Well
don't."

"Fine." Martis
stalked out, clearly offended.

Tarl ran a hand
through his hair, wishing he was not quite so tired. Much as he
longed to stay at Sabre's bedside, he needed to sleep or he would
be useless when the cyber woke up. That was not going to happen for
many more hours, however, and he left Tassin to her vigil to seek
out the stateroom that had been provided for him.

Chapter Fourteen

The beeping of
Sabre's heart monitor woke Tassin from her doze in the chair beside
his bed. She raised her head, wincing as her neck twinged, and
rubbed it. Her aching ribs sent lances of pain through her at every
breath, despite the painkiller Tarl had given her. Sabre appeared
to be asleep, but the monitor showed that his heart rate was
seventy-four. Two days had passed since his first, disastrous
awakening, and Tarl had kept him sedated since then. The others
were away sleeping or eating, and, since it was late evening
according to ship's time, the hospital was dim and empty. Tarl had
assured her that Sabre was too heavily sedated to wake up, so he
must be dreaming again, she decided.

Rising, she sat
on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to stroke his cheek as she
had done many times during the past two days. Somehow touching his
warm skin helped to allay her fears, and holding his hand comforted
her. She remembered the tide of cold despair that had threatened to
overwhelm her when she had seen him lying on the floor, more dead
than alive. Picking up his hand, she rubbed a bit of peeling skin
from his fingers and held it to her cheek. She would never forget
that brief moment of lucidity, when his hands had clasped her waist
and thrust her into the life pod. He must have known then that he
would not be able to follow her. She shied away from the memory of
her ribs breaking with dull pops under the tremendous pressure of
his hands.

The heart
monitor beeped faster, and she glanced up at it. Eighty-nine beats
per minute. Her gaze dropped to his face, and her breath caught.
His silver eyes were fixed upon her.

"Sabre?"

He blinked and
swallowed. "I must be dead... there's an angel on my bed." His
voice was a husky whisper.

"You're all
right." Hot tears flooded her eyes and overflowed.

"Hey... don't
cry."

She shook her
head, brushing at her eyes. "I'm just..." Her throat closed.

His hand
gripped hers and tugged her closer. "Come here."

Tassin hugged
him, pressing her cheek to his skin, uncaring of the pain that shot
from her ribcage. Sobs racked her, and he enfolded her in a firm
embrace, stroking her hair.

"Hush. It's
okay. I'm okay, you're okay... everything's okay," he murmured.

"I must call
Tarl."

"No, not
yet."

The heart
monitor's beeping grew faster still, then stopped, and she raised
her head in alarm.

Sabre smiled.
"No, I'm not dead. I just switched it off. It's annoying." His eyes
roamed over her face. "I thought I'd never see you again."

She clasped his
cheeks. "I thought I'd lost you too. I saw you... drifting..."

"Yeah... that
must have been awful."

"I'm just so
glad..."

"Me too.
Fairen, huh?"

She nodded.
"Did you call him?"

"Yeah. I didn't
think he'd make it in time, though."

"You were...
frozen." Her voice emerged as a strangled croak.

Sabre pulled
her close again and held her so tight she could hardly breathe, and
her ribs twinged in protest. She clung to his solid warmth and
wished the moment would never end. He held her in the way in which
she had longed for him to hold her for three years. Minutes passed
before her tears eased, and he loosened his hold when she raised
her head. To her amazement, wet streaks ran down his cheeks, and
she wiped them away.

His smile was
crooked and shy. "I'm just a big sissy."

She giggled,
her breath catching. "No. You're a beautiful, gentle man. And
you're not that big."

"True. I'm a
small sissy."

"I'm just so
happy you're okay."

"I thought I
would die for sure this time. I'm glad I didn't."

"Do you need
anything? Are you thirsty? Hungry?"

He shook his
head, glancing at the tube attached to his arm. "Looks like Tarl's
been pumping me full of fluids, and other crap."

"He saved your
life."

He shifted.
"Yeah, but he's shoved tubes into other parts of me too, and he's
going to pay for that."

"You don't mean
that."

"Oh, but I do."
He chuckled. "Okay, I'm kidding."

Tassin smiled
and stroked his cheek. "You saved me."

His smile
faded, and he reached up to cup her face. "All I could think about
while I was dying was that I never told you how much I love you.
There are no words to express what I feel. When I heard you'd been
taken, the wall in my mind broke. I know what it is to truly love
you now. What I felt before was just a shadow of the truth, an
overflow from behind that wall. I didn't mind dying, as long as I
saved you."

Tassin blinked
as fresh tears spilt down her cheeks. A huge lump blocked her
throat, and all she could do was gaze at him and shake her
head.

A wry smile
tugged at his lips. "Don't cry."

"I can't help
it."

"Hush." He
pulled her into his arms once more, stroking her hair. "You'll make
me cry again too if you keep this up."

"I love you,"
she mumbled against his chest.

His arms
tightened. "I know."

"But I do need
to breathe."

"Sorry." He
loosened his hold.

Several moments
passed in silence, then he asked, "How many ribs did I break?"

Her breath
caught, and she swallowed. "Not that many."

"How many?"

She sighed,
knowing he would scan her anyway. "Only two."

"I'm
sorry."

Tassin sat up
to gaze down at him with a tremulous smile. "I wouldn't have cared
if you'd broken all of them."

His eyes swept
over her and came to rest on her midriff. "Show me."

"No,
Sabre..."

"I want to see.
Show me."

"It's
bandaged."

Sabre tugged up
the edge of her blouse and eyed the bandages that swaddled her
ribs. "Please take them off."

"It will
hurt."

His eyes rose
to meet hers. "I must see."

"Why?"

"I need
to."

"It will only
make you feel worse."

Lowering his
gaze to her waist again, he unclipped the bandage and tugged it
loose, starting to unwrap it. Seeing that he was not going to be
swayed, she unwound the strip of stretch fabric that supported her
injured ribs. The brow band flashed, telling her that he was
scanning her too. The last bandage fell away to reveal the dark
purple handprints that clasped her waist, and he stared at them for
several seconds, a frown furrowing his brow. Raising his hands, he
placed them over the bruises, which were a perfect fit. His eyes
flicked up to meet hers, filled with anguish, and she tugged her
blouse down and leant forward to clasp his face.

"It's all
right. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. Please don't feel
bad."

"I had no
choice," he murmured. "There was nothing else I could do; nowhere
else I could hold you... I knew..."

She sat back
and shook her head. "I don't blame you. You saved my life."

Sabre raised a
hand and frowned at it, and she clasped it, raising it to kiss the
back of it, then held it to her cheek.

"It's okay,"
she whispered.

"I swore an
oath." Tears overflowed his eyes and ran down his face. "I said I'd
never hurt you. Do you remember?"

"Yes." Tassin
leant closer to wipe his cheeks. "But if you'd let me die because
you didn't want to hurt me, I'd be quite angry now. Thanks to you,
I'm alive, and my ribs will heal."

He met her
eyes. "Hurting people is what I do. It comes with being a killing
machine."

"You're not a
killing machine. I want you to stop calling yourself that, and stop
thinking of yourself as that. Tarl's wrong. Killing machines don't
cry."

He smiled. "I
guess they do if they grow a conscience."

"Stop it. It
would have made no difference if you'd been a normal man, except
you wouldn't have had the strength to throw me into the pod, and
I'd be dead now. I'm not angry with you for hurting me, but I will
be angry if you keep beating yourself up about it."