The Cyber Chronicles VI - Warrior Breed (21 page)

He smiled.
"Oh, right. You could have defeated them, I suppose."

"I would have
fought them, and if I had defeated them I would have been
proud."

A knock came
from the door, and Tarl called, "Are you two all right in
there?"

"We're fine,"
Tassin yelled. "Go away."

"I should get
dressed," Sabre said.

Tarl said, "If
Sabre has any wounds, they need to be stitched now."

She studied
Sabre's cuts. "He's right."

"Yeah, I
know."

Tassin rose
and let herself out. Tarl had a selection of antiseptic dressings
and medical equipment laid out on the table. A few moments later,
Sabre emerged, wearing his shorts.

Tarl studied
him. "Sit on the table."

The cyber
obeyed, and Tarl examined the wound in his neck first, clicking his
tongue. "The mesh armour saved you from a severed head."

"Just stitch
it up," Sabre said. "We don't need a running commentary."

Tarl picked up
a needle and thread as the door opened and Atrel entered. His gaze
raked Sabre, and he failed to hide his amazement. Apart from the
shallow cuts in his neck and side, and a few red marks that would
turn into bruises, the cyber was unscathed. Tarl glanced at him,
then reached for the wound in Sabre's neck. Tassin grabbed his
wrist, and he raised his brows at her in surprise.

"Use an
anaesthetic," she said.

"Oh,
right."

Shooting Sabre
an apologetic look, he picked up a bottle and sprayed the
wound.

Sabre cast
Tassin an amused glance. "I was going to let him stick that needle
in, then smack him."

"I wish I
hadn't stopped him, then."

Atrel came
closer, studying the wound in Sabre's flank, which revealed a glint
of gold. Rough bandages swaddled the first lieutenant’s right arm,
chest and thigh, and he limped. "I'm glad to see that you're not
badly hurt, Commander."

"Me too. What
do you want?"

"A feast has
been arranged to celebrate our victory. It's in the combat room in
four hours’ time."

Sabre shook
his head. "I'm not coming."

"The commander
of Invincible wishes to surrender his sword to you."

"Let him
surrender it to you."

"He's refused,
as is his right. It's traditional that he surrenders it to
you."

Sabre glared
at him. "Fine, I'll come and get it."

Atrel nodded,
casting a last incredulous glance at Sabre's wounds, and departed.
Tarl finished the neck wound and picked up a fresh needle, sprayed
the wound in Sabre's flank and started to sew.

Tarl glanced
at Tassin. "So what were you two doing in there for so long?"

"None of your
business."

"Hey, I'm only
concerned for Sabre's well-being."

"Ask him
then."

Tarl
hesitated, shooting the cyber a wary look. "Well?"

"None of your
business."

"Right." Tarl
sighed. "Has it not yet occurred to either of you that I'm the best
qualified person here to deal with Sabre's issues?"

"Has it not
yet occurred to you that you shouldn't stick your nose into my
business unless I ask you?" Sabre retorted.

Tarl pulled a
stitch tight with a jerk. "Why do you resent me so much?"

Sabre glared
at him. "You're annoying, you're a cyber tech, and if you do that
again you're going to be missing a few teeth."

"You don't
scare me; I know you're bluffing. Oh sure, you bully me, but you'd
never do me any serious harm."

"I don't
consider knocking out a few teeth serious harm."

Tarl smiled
and shook his head. "You know, I'm the one who's going to have to
pick up the pieces when you fall apart."

"Why the hell
should I fall apart?"

Tarl tied the
last stitch and sprayed the wounds with antiseptic. "Do I really
have to explain it to you again?"

"You've
explained it before?"

"Yeah, you
know, the whole bit about your past, what you went through and all
that."

"You have no
idea what I went through."

"Not from your
point of view, no."

Sabre looked
mollified. "I still don't see why I should fall apart."

Tarl packed
away the medical supplies. "That's already a problem. You're way
too normal. You're burying your problems under something;
self-loathing would be my best guess. Maybe disassociation, or
both. You're also very defensive."

"I thought you
were a cyber tech, not a psychiatrist."

"When I tried
to free that young cyber, I studied psychology. I knew if he got
free he'd have a lot of problems."

"What would
you have done to help him?" Tassin asked.

"Counselling,
mostly, but there are some drugs that could help."

"What would
you counsel?"

"That would
depend on his symptoms."

"I don't have
any problems," Sabre said.

"How many men
did you kill today?"

"A few."

"And how does
that make you feel?"

"Like I should
add you to the tally."

Tarl snorted.
"Rubbish. You're being defensive, and your macho bullshit doesn't
fool me."

"He feels
guilty," Tassin said, avoiding Sabre's hard glance. "He feels like
a killing machine."

Tarl nodded,
closing the lid of the medical kit, and a short silence fell. Sabre
watched him, clearly interested in the answer despite himself. Tarl
looked up. "Then it's time you accepted that that's what you are,
bud."

"No!" Tassin
said, scowling. "He's not -"

"Tassin,
you're not helping by trying to persuade him that he's not a combat
cyborg. He'll be better off if he just accepts it." He turned to
Sabre. "I don't mean you should enjoy it. I don't even mean you
should want to be one; all I'm saying is accept it. It's what you
were designed to do. You can't run away from it. Whenever there's a
dangerous situation, you're going to be the one who kills people,
for all the right reasons, I hope. It's what you're best at, and
there's no reason to feel guilty about it. You're the one who's
keeping the rest of us alive, and that's something to be proud
of."

"That's what I
told him," Tassin said.

"And you're
right. Look, most people don't like to kill, and can't, and those
who do enjoy it are psychopaths, so at least you're not one of
those." He picked up a dressing and stuck it over the wound in
Sabre's neck. "You enjoy your abilities, I know you do, and there's
nothing wrong with that, but at the same time you hate them, don't
you?"

"Mostly I
resent the fact that even though I'm capable of it, I can't snap
your neck."

"Ah, here we
go with the macho bullshit again. So why can't you do it, bud?
Hmmm?"

Sabre glared
at him for several seconds with eyes as hard as polished silver.
Tarl thrust his face closer, tapping the side of his neck. Tassin
held her breath, unnerved by the fury in Sabre's eyes, but to her
relief the cyber lowered his gaze to the floor.

"Because I
hate killing."

Tarl leant on
the table and bowed his head. "You have no idea how happy you just
made me."

"Why should
that make you happy? You knew it before."

"But you
admitted it. I suspected it, yeah. I can see you're not a violent
man." Tarl gave a bark of laughter and straightened, running a hand
through his hair. "What the hell am I saying? Look at you. You're a
warrior born and bred, but you're not a killer. There's a
difference, and I want you to see it. I've seen it in your eyes,
but you can't. You're too close to the action."

"I'm a killing
machine, but I'm not a killer."

"That's right.
What you're capable of and what you want to do are two entirely
different things. You see?"

"And that
makes killing people okay?"

Tarl nodded.
"Yeah, when they’re trying to kill us."

"I killed
sixty-one men today, to keep you safe. How is that a fair thing?
When do the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, in
this case?"

"They don't.
Everyone wants to live, bud, it's just a question of who can do it.
Survival of the fittest, I believe it's called."

"Pitting a
cyber against normal men isn't fair."

"No, of course
it's not." Tarl picked up the second dressing and stuck it over the
wound in Sabre's flank. "But that's the reason cybers were created,
to protect those who can't protect themselves, and anyone who's
stupid enough to take on a cyber is going to die."

"What makes
your lives more valuable than theirs?"

"We have you,
so ours will cost anyone who tries to take them dearly."

"So you're
saying that I shouldn't feel bad about killing people to protect
you, because without me, you'd be dead?"

Tassin
giggled, and Tarl shot her a hard look. "Since time immemorial, men
have fought and died to protect their families, their loved ones,
their clan, tribe or village. They didn't feel bad about it, and do
you know why?"

Sabre
shrugged. "It was a fair fight?"

"Because they
survived. Their families and children survived, thanks to them.
They didn't care if it was a fair fight or not. They only wanted to
live, and that was their reward. They were proud."

"Two hours ago
I killed sixty-one idiots who were expecting a fair fight, and if
not for me they would have won."

"And we'd be
dead."

"That's not
the point. They didn't know they couldn't kill me. They rushed at
me like I was just another warrior. They didn't know what they were
up against."

Tarl nodded.
"Lambs to the slaughter."

"Precisely. I
don't feel bad about keeping you alive... well maybe I feel a bit
bad about saving your sorry arse, but not Tassin. I'm glad I could
keep her safe, but you weren't there, you didn't see..."

"Don't think
about that. Be glad they weren't your equals. If they had been,
you'd be dead. So you have an advantage, that’s all."

Sabre stared
at him for several seconds, then slid off the table and stood up,
winced and fingered the dressing on his ribs. "You chose to be a
cyber tech. Kernan chose to be a mercenary. Even Tassin could give
up her throne if she wished, but I was never given a choice. As you
said, whenever there's danger, I'm the one who has to kill people,
whether I like it or not."

"Yeah, that
sucks."

"So don't
expect me to be proud of it."

"Okay, but
don't hate yourself. Hate the people who made you a cyber. It's
their fault."

"I hate them
too." Sabre went over to the bunk and flopped down on it. "I need
to rest."

"Right. What's
your -?"

"Seventy-two
per cent, okay? Now piss off."

Tarl let
himself out, and Tassin retreated to her adjoining room, since
Sabre seemed to want to be alone. She stripped off her jeans and
boots and lay down on her bed in her top and undergarments. A few
minutes later, she sensed a presence close by and opened her eyes,
surprised to find Sabre standing there, looking shy and a trifle
embarrassed.

"Mind if I
join you?"

Tassin smiled
and moved aside so he could lie beside her, and he did so, turning
to face her. Her heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and
wonder at his unexpected presence in her bed. His eyes avoided hers
as he stroked her arm, then he slid his arms around her waist and
drew her close, laying his cheek on her shoulder, his brow pressed
to the side of her neck. She hugged his neck and held him close,
amazed and delighted that he had sought her out and clearly had a
strong wish to be near her.

Sabre sighed,
and his arms tightened, his fingers caressing her back. She stroked
his hair, cherishing the closeness she had dreamt of sharing with
him for so long. That he was developing a wish for human contact,
particularly hers, elated her, and she hoped this was the beginning
a new chapter in their relationship. She had no qualms about his
intentions, she knew all he wanted was to hold her, and it was easy
to relax in his arms, where she felt so safe. Her heart ached with
love for this gentle, sweet-natured man, and, while she longed for
more, she was certain that would come in time. For now, all she
wanted was more moments like this, when she could hold him. She
sensed that he had no wish to talk, and within a few minutes his
hands grew still and his breaths deepened as he fell asleep. She
lay awake, glad that he had somehow overcome the cyber’s alarms and
his conditioning, and all the other horrible things that had been
done to him, so he could fall asleep holding her.

Chapter Fourteen

The cyber's
flashing warning light woke Sabre, and he glanced at the scanner
information. A human life form approached the door of the adjoining
cabin, where he was supposed to be. Only he was in Tassin’s bed,
where he had fallen asleep earlier. He had been far too hyped up to
sleep after the battle, and he had found her closeness immensely
comforting during his traumatic episode in the shower. He was glad,
now, that she had invaded his privacy, and he had been too sunk in
battle withdrawal to be embarrassed. He could not explain his wish
to be close to her when he had come to her earlier, still thrumming
with fatigue and aching from his injuries, but she had started
something in the shower that he could not shake. As he had hoped,
holding her had had the same effect, and just a couple of minutes
of closeness had relaxed him sufficiently for him to fall asleep.
Evidently being close to her, particularly when she held him,
comforted him immensely. So much so that even the cyber’s
irritating warnings could not put him off now.

The chime of
his cabin door’s entry-call came, and he cursed. His arms tightened
around the sleeping girl, wishing he could stay. It appeared that
neither of them had moved in the four hours they had slept,
although she had shifted closer, and her legs were tangled with
his. He smiled as he recalled that she did tend to become bolder in
her sleep. She sighed and squirmed closer, her arms tightening
around his neck, and he drew back to gaze at her, lifting a hand to
stroke her cheek. He ignored the instant analysis that appeared in
his mind, cursing the monster in the brow band that constantly
reminded him that everything he did was supposed to be
combat-related. She was so trusting, he reflected, although she had
nothing to fear from him. That she seemed to know it was important
to him, and he did not know what he would do if she ever stopped
trusting him. He would never give her a reason to, no matter
what.