The Cyber Chronicles IX - Precipice (11 page)

"Why?"

"It's a way of
avoiding the situation, and his feelings. It's the stress."

Kole looked
alarmed. "But without him -"

"We could be in
danger, yeah. But the enforcers don't know, and we have to keep it
that way."

"For how
long?"

Martis shook
his head. "I don't know."

Estrelle glared
at Kole. "You did this. You pushed an off button."

"How the hell
did I do that?"

"By telling him
that you didn't have to help him. It was the last straw, I think.
Without you, his plan fails."

"I didn't say I
wouldn't do it!"

She nodded.
"But he was on a razor's edge, and a bit of reluctance on your part
was all it took to push him off."

"He could do
the hacking himself."

"That's not the
point. Right now he needs your support, even more than ours. He's
already deep in despair, now he's either given up, or he just can't
cope with the situation anymore."

Kole muttered,
"I thought he was a tough guy, not the sort to wimp out when the
shit hits the fan."

"Yeah, well
none of us really knows what he's going through, but try to imagine
this: he's lived his entire life controlled by a computer, unable
to make any decisions at all, not so much as when he can go to the
toilet. He gets free, and suddenly he can do what he wants, but
what does he do? He does what Tassin wants, maybe partly because he
likes her, maybe because he has no purpose of his own, and probably
partly because she was his owner and the control unit punished him
if he didn't. So he was still taking orders, just not from the
control unit anymore.”

Estrelle
paused, shaking her head. "Then he gets to go back to Myon Two, and
is put under cyber control again. He gives up. He thinks it's all
over, but Tassin frees him again. Wonderful, right? Sure, but again
he does what she wants. He protects her, so he has a purpose. But
this whole time, he has very few emotions, some vague feelings of
love, some anger, a bit of hatred, nothing serious. He still has a
cool, analytical mind.

"Then he's
taken to Myon Two again and tortured, but we free him. Wonderful,
and he has a purpose, to return to Omega Five and be with Tassin.
Now she's been taken, and there's an excellent chance he'll never
find her. When he hears that, he suddenly gets a shitload of
full-strength emotions that he doesn't know how to deal with dumped
into his mind. He tries to vent it, and that helped a bit, then you
come along and tell him you don't have to help him. God, Kole,
wouldn't you want to cop out? His only purpose now is finding
Tassin, without that, he has no reason to live, and he's not used
to being in charge, either."

Martis nodded,
gazing at Sabre. "He's checked out. He can't cope."

"He said he
couldn't," Estrelle agreed. "I guess he's had enough of
trying."

Kole scowled at
the recumbent cyber. "I don't buy it. He's a take-charge kind of
guy. He revels in dangerous situations; that's when he starts
kicking butts, barking orders and taking over. This isn't like
him."

"That was
before he had to deal with all the feelings as well. If his block
hadn't failed, he'd be fine, but now... he can't cope with the
despair of losing Tassin, or the anguish of not knowing if she's
alive or dead."

"So isn't there
a way to make him snap out of it?"

"What do you
suggest?"

Kole threw up
his hands. "I don't know! Smack him around a bit, maybe he'll get
angry enough to defend himself."

"Are you
volunteering?"

"Then try
talking to him."

"And tell him
what?" she asked. "That we've found Tassin? That's the only thing
that would bring him out of it I think, but only if he could hear
it, which, right now, I doubt. And all your talk about the
enforcers drugging him or gassing him or knocking him out didn't
exactly help his stress levels either, did it?"

Kole swung
away, running a hand through his hair. "Without him, we're in big
shit."

Martis looked
up. "We've got to stop the enforcers from finding out what's
happened, and we can't move him. You need to get cracking on the
hacking, Kole, and send two cybers down here to guard the door. We
just tell the enforcers that Sabre's staying here so he doesn't
have to be around them because he doesn't trust himself not to
break a few heads. I reckon they'll be happy to leave him alone.
All orders will come through us."

"Right," Kole
said. "We need to find Tarl. He can fix him."

"How's he going
to do that?"

"You don't know
Tarl. He's a whizz with cybers. You're just researchers; he was a
repair tech for fifteen years. You two are fresh out of the
academy, aren't you?"

Martis raised
his chin. "I have two years’ experience."

"Big deal. Tarl
was the one who restored his memories."

"And I was the
one who reprogrammed him so he could deal with the brain block
failure."

"Well, you
didn't do a very good job, did you?" Kole retorted.

"If I hadn't
he'd be much worse than -"

"Okay!"
Estrelle raised her hands. "Cut out the pissing contest! Kole,
we're in a hurry, so please get to work."

The hacker
glared at her, then turned and strode to the door, letting himself
out. Martis pulled an analyser over to the table and plugged it
into the brow band's port. Estrelle sat beside the table, gazing
down at the cyber.

"At least he's
at peace now."

"I think that
was the idea. I thought Kole would make him angry, but this is even
worse."

She stroked
Sabre's hair. "I wonder how he did it?"

Martis
shrugged, studying the information that scrolled up his screen.
"Took a swan dive into the darkest pit in his mind he could
find."

"But that's not
normal. We can't do that."

"Stress can
make a person pass out."

"This isn't a
simple fainting spell. It's way more."

Martis typed on
his keypad. "I'm sure he found lots of ways to escape from reality
when he was cyber controlled, and who can blame him? He's almost in
a cold sleep now, brain function minimal, heart rate at ten beats
per minute. The control unit's fully functional, but useless, since
it's not in control."

"He must love
her very much."

"Yeah." Martis
turned to her. "I'll hook up a drip to keep him fed and
hydrated."

****

Tassin wielded
the scrubbing brush, slowing her efforts while no one was watching,
since she had discovered that the harder she worked, the more tasks
she was given. For a week her life had been one of endless drudgery
and vile food. Blisters had formed on her hands and burst, leaving
painful sores, her back ached and her head pounded. There seemed to
be no end to the work. Endrovar had parties almost every night, and
she had to clean up the mess.

The sound of
footsteps made her speed up her scrubbing, and she glanced up as a
shadow fell on her. Ashmond stood there, looking smug.

"Well, Your
Majesty, how low the mighty have fallen, hey?"

"I'd rather
scrub the bilges of this filthy tub than rut with that fat
pig."

"Good thing
spaceships don't have bilges, or doubtless you would be. Endrovar
was peeved to be forced to give up the pleasure of your company,
but Tarl is proving to be worth his weight in gold. Get up, you're
coming with me."

Tassin rose,
rubbing her knees. "Where are we going?"

"You'll find
out soon enough."

The Queen
followed him along the passage to her tiny cabin, where he
instructed her to change into her own clothes. When she was ready,
he led her to a plush room carpeted in purple shag and furnished
with white suede settees and a glass-topped coffee table. He
ordered her to wait, and she sat and fidgeted, disliking the
situation and wondering what the purpose of this was. After almost
an hour, the door slid open and Ashmond beckoned to her, taking her
elbow when she joined him in the corridor.

"Well, now I
can tell you where you're going. You see, Endrovar finds your
continued presence annoying, a constant reminder of what he can't
have, so he just sold you. Right now we're in orbit at Forge Prime,
and your new owner's sending a shuttle to collect you."

She jerked her
arm from his grip. "You can't do this! Tarl won't work if I'm
sold."

"He won't know.
He's been asking to see you, but I just say no, and he has to
accept it. And even if he finds out, it'll be too late. All he'll
do is earn himself punishment. Nobody blackmails Endrovar."

Tassin glared
at him. "I won't co-operate. Whoever just bought me will be
demanding a refund within the hour. I'll -"

"You'll do as
you’re told, and Endrovar explained your truculence to the buyers.
Your new owner is prepared to deal with you. Maybe he even enjoys
it. Some do, I've heard."

"Please, don't
let him do this. I thought you were a decent man, a noble, not a
pig like Endrovar."

He shrugged.
"Alas, I do as I'm told. I need this job to support a very large
and penniless family."

"Let me send a
message, please! Just a minute at a transmitter; Endrovar will
never know."

"Oh, he'll
know, especially if whoever you call comes looking for you."

She shook her
head. "You'll be safe, I swear."

"But I'll be
out of a job, won't I?"

"I can take
care of you and your family. You’ll never have to cow-tow to anyone
again."

Ashmond
regarded her with chilly eyes. "Easy to make promises, but how do I
know it's the truth? No, far safer to keep the income I've got than
take a gamble on your ability to make good on your promises."

"My betrothed
is the friend of an Overlord, Ashmond. If you help me, you'll win
his favour."

"You know, the
promise of boundless wealth was easier to swallow; now you just
sound ridiculous. Come on." The baron took hold of her arm again
and tugged her along the passage.

"I've met
Overlord Fairen. I've been aboard the Scorpion Ship."

"You'd make a
fine storyteller. Perhaps you should try it on your new
owners."

"I'm telling
the truth, ask a cyber."

"I don't have
command privileges, and I'm not going to tell Endrovar about your
ridiculous claims without proof. Do you have proof?"

"How could I?”
she asked. “Do you think Overlords hand out keepsakes or
something?"

"They do,
actually, to their friends."

"Yes, the
bracelet! Sabre has one, or he had, until Myon Two abducted him.
They took it off."

"An Overlord
bracelet can't be removed, so now you've just proved that you're
lying," he said.

"It's the
truth, I swear. Myon Two found a way to remove it."

"Impossible.
And why would Myon Two want to abduct your betrothed, anyway,
especially if he's an Overlord's friend? They'd be signing their
death warrants."

"I can't tell
you that,” Tassin said, “but you and Endrovar are signing your
death warrants right now, by handing me over to some brutish
pig."

"You're not an
Overlord's friend, so even if your betrothed is one, which I highly
doubt, we're not."

"Oh, Sabre
won't need Fairen's help to deal with you and Endrovar, trust
me."

Ashmond
snorted, pulling her through a door into a space dock, where four
men in smart azure uniforms waited. "Then it's a good thing we're
getting rid of you, isn't it?" He stopped and faced the men. "Here
she is, full of fire and brimstone, as promised."

The foremost
man eyed her, then gestured to the open airlock. "Come on, let's
go."

Tassin shot the
baron a last killing look and followed her new jailers into a
silver shuttle with deep crimson floors and pale cream bulkheads,
her head held high. The door clunked shut as one man strapped her
into a seat, and the craft undocked with a slight jerk. There were
no screens, and when the door opened at the end of the journey, a
dim corridor yawned ahead. Her gut clenched with trepidation. Gloom
was associated with dark minds and evil ways, in her estimation,
and the dark ship boded ill.

The men took
her to a spacious sitting room, where she waited for an hour, then
one returned to usher her into a significantly dimmer adjoining
room. Soft golden lights glowed from recesses in the walls, which
appeared to be hung with dark cloth. A slender man with a gaunt,
narrow face and short dark gold hair looked up from where he
reclined on a huge black sofa. His cobalt jacket and trousers were
unadorned, yet tasteful and expensive. Putting down a vidbook, he
raked her with golden eyes and gestured to the settee opposite.

"Have a seat.
Are you thirsty or hungry?"

Tassin sank
down on the couch, shaking her head. "Thank you, no."

"I am Tarvin.
Be at ease, you have nothing to fear."

"Why did you
buy me?"

"Ah, right to
the point, I like that." He studied her, tilting his head. "I
haven't decided yet. I heard that you claim to be royalty, and I
was intrigued."

She nodded,
hiding her blistered hands in her riding habit’s skirts. “I am
Queen Tassin Alrade of Arlin, Omega Five.”

He seemed
unimpressed, so either he did not believe her, or he did not care.
“I was also told that you're truculent, and a bit of a handful, is
that true?"

"Aren't all
slaves truculent?"

"Not so much.
I’m sure they are resentful, but usually they're too scared to
betray their resentment, lest they jeopardise their lives. Slave
owners seldom tolerate a rebellious slave, and they have ways of
ensuring obedience."

Tassin chewed
her lip, her tension increasing. "I’ll repay whatever you paid for
me if you'll let me go."

"That’s a
sizeable sum. I got into a bidding war with that uncouth primitive,
Daone. He should have known better than to bid against me, so he's
now licking his wounds, I would imagine."