The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord (7 page)

"I think they
should have anaesthetised him, though," she added.

"Absolutely.
We don't want him breaking loose again."

Estrelle
nodded, wondering if that was all that bothered him. "Certainly
not."

Jorran joined
the clients inside the cubicle, closing the door as he continued to
talk to them, undoubtedly extolling the advantages of fireproof
cybers. The clients nodded, and some pointed at Sabre, asking
questions that Jorran answered with a confident smile and an air of
superiority. Estrelle tried to prepare herself for what was to
come, her stomach knotting as Jorran raised a hand to signal to
Rond, who turned to the cyber.

"Cyber
Eighteen, your target is the chest area of the cyber in front of
you. Proceed."

The cyber
raised the flamethrower and aimed it at Sabre, pressing the
trigger. Fire poured from the nozzle to bathe Sabre's chest, and he
writhed, straining at the shackles. The brow band filled with
flashing red lights, and his skin glowed golden as the flames
licked over it. Estrelle struggled to show no emotion, her throat
locked on a cry of horror, her stomach clenched. She glanced at the
cubicle, where the clients pointed and talked excitedly, clearly
amazed. Martis made a soft choking sound, and Estrelle looked at
him. His face remained expressionless, but a muscle jumped in his
jaw.

Cords stood out on Sabre's neck and blood vessels bulged on
his chest and arms. The shackle on his right wrist snapped with a
dull
plink
, and
his arm snapped inwards, hitting his chest. He tried to reach the
metal band around his neck, and continued to writhe as blisters
formed on his chest and the golden glow faded.

Martis glanced
down at his data-wand. "Four minutes."

Blood oozed
from Sabre's left wrist as the shackle cut into his skin. The
blisters on his chest burst and the fluid turned to steam. Sweat
ran down his flanks and legs as his chest reddened and started to
bleed. Estrelle bit her lip and frowned at her data-wand,
pretending to make notes.

"Cyber
Eighteen, stop," Rond commanded.

Estrelle
glanced at the cubicle, where Jorran lowered his hand and turned to
talk to the clients, who looked animated, pointed and clapped. The
cyber deactivated the flamethrower and lowered it, assuming a
resting pose. Estrelle could hardly bear to look at Sabre, but shot
him a quick glance, relieved to find that he appeared to have lost
consciousness.

She turned to
Martis. "Better get the med techs. We don't want him scarred too
badly, and we'll need him healed for the next demonstration. When
is that? Next week?"

He nodded,
looking sick. "How can you stand it?"

"I want to
keep my job. Do you?"

"I'm not so
sure anymore."

"No one
resigns from Cybercorp."

Martis glanced
around at the cubicle, then went over to the com-link by the
door.

Estrelle
turned to Rond. "I'll be in my lab if Jorran wants me. I have to go
over my notes."

"Right."

Estrelle left
the testing lab, unable to watch Sabre taken down and removed like
a piece of overcooked meat. The stench of burning flesh made her
want to vomit. In her research department, she greeted a few fellow
techs and went to her cubicle, where the prototype control unit
rested in a padded cradle. Plugging her data-wand into her
computer, she downloaded the data and stared at the screen with
blind eyes.

At the end of
her shift, she made her way to the high-security cell where Sabre
was imprisoned. Her key card opened the door, since she was part of
the research team assigned to him, and she entered the tiny grey
and white room. Sabre was strapped to the steel table again,
duronium bands securing his limbs and neck. Regeneration jelly
covered his chest and wrists, and the cyber unit showed an
in-control configuration. She leant over him, studying his
impassive face.

"Sabre? Can
you hear me?"

A green light
pulsed on the brow band as she spoke, indicating that it had heard
her.

Sabre's eyes
opened a slit, then closed again. "What do you want?"

Hot tears
stung her eyes. "Just to make sure you’re okay."

"Do I look
okay to you?"

"No." Estrelle
dug in her pocket and took out an atomiser syringe, pressing it to
the vein in his neck. "This will help."

"Thanks. Could
you make it something lethal next time?"

"You want to
die?"

"Wouldn't
you?” he asked. “They're going to do that to me for the rest of my
life, aren't they? How often? Every week? More, if I heal
quickly?"

"I don't know.
But yes, I suppose I would also want to die."

"You wanted to
help me."

She shook her
head. "If I kill you, I'll be locked up, probably for the rest of
my life. It would be treason."

He sighed.
"How long before this stuff wears off?"

"About eight
hours."

"Can you bring
more?"

Estrelle
nodded. "I'll do what I can. How bad is it?"

"It feels like
I spent six minutes in an inferno, and the burning doesn't stop
when the flames do."

"But you
passed out, didn't you?"

"After about
five minutes, yeah."

"I tried to
get Jorran to give you an anaesthetic." She sat on the stool beside
him. "How can you be so calm? Why aren't you angry?"

"I am angry,
but there's not much I can do about it, is there?"

"You said you
were friends with an Overlord."

His eyes
opened and focussed on her. "Could you send a message to him?"

"No... I
wouldn't know how, and if I did, they would catch me."

"But you could
hire someone else to do it, couldn't you? A pilot, perhaps?"

She hung her
head. "Everyone who comes here works for Cybercorp. They wouldn't
do it, and they'd inform on me."

"Could you get
a message to someone else then? You are allowed private
communications aren't you?"

"Only locally,
not intergalactic."

He looked
away, and a flicker of despair crossed his face. "Okay. How about a
package? Could you send a package to another world?"

"It would be
opened and examined."

"Can you get
on the Net?"

"All Net
interactions are monitored."

He glanced at
her, his eyes filled with pleading. "There must be something you
can do. Don't you have public Net booths?"

"We have to
use our ID card."

"Steal
one."

"I'm not a
thief. I'd be caught. Security on Myon Two and the worlds in this
system is airtight. I'm sorry."

"Okay." A
slight frown wrinkled his brow. "Could you swap me for another
cyber, just for a couple of hours?"

"This cell is
under twenty-four-hour surveillance. They know I'm here, but they
think I'm studying your control unit. They're not listening,
though. This is a cyber resting cell, there's no reason for them to
listen in."

"I know. The
camera is behind you, which is why they can't see that you're
talking to me." He hesitated. "Estrelle... please try to get a
message out for me. You could swap your ID card for another tech's,
send a message with his, then swap them back again, couldn't
you?"

"If I'm
caught, I'll be charged with treason. You're asking me to risk my
life."

He closed his
eyes. "And why would you, for a mere cyber host?"

"I do want to
help you. You're much more than that, now that I know you. I'll see
what I can do. Perhaps if I had someone else to help me, I could
manage something."

Sabre opened
his eyes again and gazed up at her. "Please try."

Chapter Four

Tarl was about
to hurl the makeshift receiver across the room, the rage and
frustration that had been building in him over the last few days
reaching overwhelming proportions, when the door opened and Tassin
entered. Putting down the mass of wires and crystals, he groaned
and slumped onto the workbench as a tall man in a grey robe
followed her into the lab, glancing around with sharp green eyes.
Tassin came over to him, looking concerned.

"Are you all
right?"

He looked up.
"No, I'm not bloody all right! I can't do it! The damned thing
doesn't work! I can't make it work! I can't..." He picked up the
receiver again, on the verge of tearing it apart.

Tassin
snatched it from him. "Wait, let Emral look at it."

Tarl glanced
at the tall man and snorted. "This is your mage? What can he
do?"

"He's not my
mage, he's a mage, but I might employ him if he can help."

"He won't be
able to bloody help! What can he do?"

"We won't know
until we let him try."

Tassin turned
to the mage and held out the receiver, which he took as if it was a
bundle of vipers. His saturnine visage darkened, thick black brows
drawing together into a solid ridge above deep-set eyes. He juggled
the mass of wires as if it burnt his hands, licked his lips and
sucked in his gaunt cheeks. Tarl stared at him, fascinated by his
antics.

"Bad magic,"
Emral muttered. "Alien, old, but new. Founder magic. Waves, loops."
He closed his eyes. "Incomplete."

Tarl's jaw
dropped as Emral stuffed the receiver down the front of his robe,
clasped it to his chest and walked closer to the flashing diode,
holding out a hand.

"He's going to
break it," he said, shooting Tassin a frown.

"You were
about to do that yourself, if I'm not mistaken."

Tarl sighed,
leaning on the workbench as Emral swayed, his hand over the diode,
his eyes closed.

"Flash, flash,
flash..." he muttered.

Tarl glanced
at the diode, which flashed in unison to Emral's words. "How's he
doing that?"

"He's a mage,"
Tassin replied.

"Some sort of
telepath?"

"I have no
idea."

Emral pulled
the receiver out of his robe and held it out to Tarl. His fingers
probed the wires and grasped two, his eyes still closed.
"Incomplete," he repeated. "This one and this one... must
connect."

Tarl frowned
at the two wires Emral held, shaking his head. "No, that's wrong.
That's a frequency modulator and a power bypass, you can't connect
them, you'll blow the circuit."

"Must
connect," Emral repeated, then dropped the receiver on the
workbench, rubbed his hands on his robe and opened his eyes. "Dirty
magic."

"This is
bullshit," Tarl said. "He doesn't know what he's talking
about."

"What would it
hurt to try?" Tassin asked.

"It'll blow
the circuit!"

"It doesn't
work anyway!"

Emral stabbed
a finger at the receiver. "Connect them."

"Fine." Tarl
picked up the receiver, pulled out the two wires and looked for a
connector. After several minutes of cutting and soldering, he sat
back, frowning. "How's that?"

Emral leant
forward and held his hand over the receiver. "Switch it on."

"Okay, be
ready for some fireworks, this baby packs a punch." Tarl gritted
his teeth and pressed the tiny switch on the side of the receiver.
A soft beeping issued from it, and his mouth dropped open in
surprise.

Emral nodded.
"Flash, flash, flash."

Tarl gaped at
the diode, whose flashes were now marked by the beeping from the
receiver. "It's working!"

Tassin clasped
her hands and grinned, her eyes bright with tears. "We can find the
bracelet."

"But..." Tarl
shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know how it's working.
You're a bloody genius, Emral."

The mage drew
himself up, and Tassin turned to smile at him. "A good day's work,
mage. Your reward will be as I promised, and my employ is
yours."

"Majesty."
Emral bowed. "I am honoured to serve you."

Tarl frowned
at him. "You know, if he can detect the diode, he can pick up the
beacon."

Tassin's eyes
sparkled. "Of course!" She turned to the mage. "Emral, have you
sensed another flashing somewhere?"

"Like that?"
He indicated the diode.

"Yes, similar,
probably stronger."

"No,
Majesty."

Tarl scowled.
"The beacon is intergalactic. It should be much stronger. If he
can't sense it, it must be on the other side of the world."

"Fairen would
have noticed if it had moved, and too quickly for Sabre to have
walked that far. He would have become suspicious."

"We don't know
how closely he's monitoring it, or how dedicated his staff is to
the job."

"His men are
utterly devoted to him,” she said. “They would have informed
him."

"Then it makes
no sense. Even if it was in space above us, Emral should be able to
sense it."

"Is it on the
same frequency?"

Tarl shook his
head. "No, not exactly. It's a sideband frequency, very narrow and
a bit higher."

Emral raised a
finger. "No flashing, but whistling, I have sensed."

"Whistling?"
Tassin glanced at him, then back at Tarl. "Could it be?"

He shrugged.
"I have no idea what an Overlord beacon sounds like. I assumed it
would beep. Maybe it whistles."

Tassin turned
to Emral. "Can you show us where it is?"

"Of course,
Majesty."

Tarl turned to
the receiver and adjusted the frequency. The beeps from the diode
faded, and moments later a soft hissing, whistling and blipping
issued from it. "That's it. It's not just a beacon, it's a data
stream!"

"A what?"
Tassin shook her head. "Never mind, let's just find it."

"It's probably
sending its exact co-ordinates," Tarl mused, listening to the data
stream. "If only I could convert that to -"

"Tarl, come
on!" Tassin looked back from the doorway, her demeanour
impatient.

"Right." He
snatched up the receiver and followed her and Emral out of the
lab.