The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord (26 page)

"Very
bad."

"Why?"

"You're a
prototype."

"They've taken
my blood. What do they need me for?"

She turned to
Martis. "Tell him what you told me."

The host tech
coughed, looking uncomfortable when Sabre glanced up at him. "Well,
um... if, as you say, you were changed on a molecular level, they
won't be able to use your DNA to upgrade current, or future clones,
they have to clone you. The thing is, you’re what, about thirty
years old now? The DNA in your cells is degraded by the ageing
process, so clones made from your blood cells won’t live very
long."

Sabre frowned,
considering this while he finished strapping Estrelle's wrist and
clipped the end of the bandage. "So what can they do?"

"They need the
only cells in your body that don’t replicate. The ones you were
born with."

"My brain
cells?"

Martis nodded.
"Yeah."

Sabre stood up
and faced the host tech. "You people are bloody barbaric, you know
that? There isn't even a word bad enough to describe you."

Martis bowed
his head. The bangs and hisses stopped, plunging the ship into
silence. Sabre shoved him aside and went to the bridge, where Kole
gazed out at stars that swelled and smeared, filling the screens
with light. Dark shields slid over them, and he turned to look up
at Sabre, his brows rising.

"What's
wrong?"

"Those Myon
Two bastards have sunk to new lows, but the good news is they won't
be trying to blow up this ship any time soon."

"Why's
that?"

Sabre glared
at the light-filled screens. "Apparently I'm irreplaceable."

"Why?"

Martis came to
stand in the doorway. "They can't recombine his DNA, so they have
to clone him."

Kole smiled at
Sabre. "You’re going to be a daddy."

“
I wouldn’t call it that.”

"So didn't
they take your blood while they had you?"

“
They did, but they can’t use it.”

“
Why not?”

"It’s too old.
They need my brain cells.”

“
Ugh.” Kole pulled a face. “All of them?”

“
No,” Martis said. “Only one.”

“
Good thing, I think he’s only got one,” Kole said. “But, hey,
I wouldn’t mind being replicated. Imagine, thousands of copies of
me.”

"So they can
be tortured and turned into killing machines?" Sabre asked.

"Well if you
put it like that..."

"That's the
way it is." Sabre glared at the twinkling consoles. "I just won't
allow them to take me alive, no matter what."

"Well,
although alive would be preferable, they can use your corpse, as
long as it’s fresh," Martis said.

"I'll just
have to make sure I'm vaporised, then."

"That'll do
it."

Chapter Fourteen

Jorran peered
through the high-powered electron microscope, his brow furrowed.
The retrovirus had failed again. The old host who was the
experimental subject remained unchanged, and Jorran sat back to
ponder the problem, massaging his temples. Touching the keypad
beside his screen, he read the report from the production
department again. It informed him that the free cyber's genes had
also not combined with the original cocktail, but had degraded. He
flipped through the files to the one that held all the DNA data
from the free cyber, scowling at it. The DNA's alteration was
subtle. The genes were the same, but the way they worked had
changed, yet the changes were not being passed on with
recombination. The genes rejected the combining process and
remained unattached.

Jorran sent
the sample through a molecular analyser, tapping his fingers on the
lab table while he waited for the results. The screen beeped, and
he read the report, his frown growing deeper.

"Damn it!"

Jumping up,
Jorran went over to a com-link and contacted the head of the
enforcer department, whose craggy, saturnine face appeared on the
screen, looking disgruntled.

"Host Tech
Jorran. How can I help you?"

"Have your
enforcers captured the free cyber yet?"

"No, I'd have
informed you if they had. He's on the run, but if he makes it to
Lair Nine, they'll kill him."

Jorran shook
his head. "No, they won't. They must capture him, unharmed, if
possible. It's imperative."

"That won't be
easy, sir, they -"

"I don't care.
I want him alive."

"Yes,
sir."

Jorran closed
the connection and straightened, then made his way to the office of
the production department's head, a middle-aged, heavy-set man
named Antar, who looked up with a raised brow.

Jorran sat in
the chair on the other side of Antar's desk and got right to the
point. "We can't replicate the free cyber's genes. I did a
molecular analysis. There's no way we can combine his genes with a
normal cyber, or the original cocktail. We’ll have to clone
him."

“
That’s going to be tricky.” Antar looked thoughtful. "Have
you recaptured him?"

"Not yet, but
we will."

"All this for
a bit of fireproofing?"

Jorran shook
his head. "It's not just fireproofing. There's more, I just don't
know what it is yet. And the fireproofing is enough, anyway. He can
survive in fire for six minutes, undamaged."

"I've seen the
data," Antar said. "Fine, I'll prepare a new cloning protocol."

****

Tassin stared
at the grey sludge on her plate, her stomach heaving, then set it
aside. "I can't eat that."

Tarl spooned
his sludge, grimacing. "It's not too bad. It's just unflavoured
nutrient mix."

"It's not fit
for pigs."

"You need to
keep your strength up."

"I'm fine, but
I'll be ill if I eat that," she said.

"I don't think
you're going to get anything else, so you'd better get used to it.
Sooner or later you'll have to eat it."

She shook her
head. "Maybe we'll reach a world with decent food before then."

"I think this
is probably what slaves eat."

"Then I shall
starve. They will feed me decent food, or watch me die."

"They'll toss
you in the garbage chute and flush you into space."

Tassin eyed
him. "Surely I'm worth something to them?"

"You didn't
cost them anything, except a bit of shuttle fuel, so they really
won't care."

The three
girls gobbled their food as if they were half starved. One of them
licked her plate clean and gazed at Tassin's food with hungry eyes,
then raised them to meet the Queen’s.

"Can I have
that?"

Tassin nodded,
surprised by the girl's familiar tongue. "You're from Olgara?"

The girl
nodded, took Tassin's plate and wolfed the food. Tassin raised her
brows at Tarl, who grunted and said, "Those bastards were already
at Omega Five stealing slaves when they heard our message. No
wonder they picked it up."

"Then there
really wouldn't have ever been another ship."

"No. That
transmitter probably wasn't even strong enough to make it into
space." Tarl put down his empty plate. "But getting abducted still
wasn't a good idea."

"But now
there's hope that there might be a transmitter wherever we're
going, and if we can just use it to contact Fairen..."

"You never
give up, do you? We'll be lucky to survive. Sending a message is no
longer the priority."

"But Fairen
will save us!"

"No,” Tarl
said. “Fairen will save Sabre, not us."

"He'll save me
because Sabre loves me, and you'll be saved too."

"If you tell
him Sabre's with us, and he comes and finds that you lied, he'll be
pissed off."

"But we have
to tell him that Myon Two has taken Sabre," she said.

"Yeah, if we
tell him that in the message, fine, but he won't come for us, he'll
go after Sabre."

"And Sabre
will make him rescue us."

He smiled,
leaning against the wall. "Make him? No one can make an Overlord do
anything."

"Ask him; beg
him, then. Sabre will persuade him to save us."

"I doubt it.
Overlords run the universe. They're busy rescuing entire
civilisations, or wiping them out; ending intergalactic wars and
interstellar conflicts, stopping plagues and destroying crime
lords. He might drop all that to save Sabre, but not us."

"Then Sabre
will save us."

"That's a
possibility,” he agreed, “although it's ironic that we were
abducted trying to save him, and he'll end up risking his neck to
rescue us."

"Fairen will
help him."

"Ah, Tassin,
you're such a dreamer. Fairen likes Sabre, sure, but there's a
limit to how much he'll do. Sabre will need a heavily armed ship to
attack smugglers, and first he'll have to find us. That's going to
be the really tricky bit."

She looked
down at her twisting hands. "He won't rest until he does, I know.
Just as I didn't give up until I found him and freed him."

"I'm sure he
won't, but I'm afraid he'll get killed in the attempt. After all,
unlike you, even if Fairen frees him from Myon Two, if Myon Two
took him, he'll still have enforcers chasing him, probably trying
to kill him."

"What do you
mean, 'if Myon Two took him'? Of course they did!"

"It might have
been Ramadaus, maybe even Manutim,” Tarl said. “We don't know it
was Myon Two."

"If it was
Ramadaus, he might have killed him already." Tassin stared across
the room, her expression despairing. "That can't happen. Tell me it
won't."

"I wish I
could."

"If Sabre's
dead, we're doomed."

"Possibly."

"We must
escape,” she said. “I won't be a slave all my life... and my
kingdom... everything will be ruined."

Tarl slid over
to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "We must hope Sabre's
alive, and gets free and saves us. We must try to send a message to
Fairen, to tell him Sabre was taken. We mustn't give up hope."

Tassin hung
her head, nodding.

****

Striker's
melodious tones jerked Sabre from his introspection, and he looked
up at the screens.

"Proximity
alert."

Kole scanned
his tactical screens and swore. "One of the enforcers is pulling
alongside. They're going to try to tangle their solar wings in
ours."

"That'll
overload Striker's wings and blow her generators," Sabre agreed.
"They're trying to cripple her."

"Bastards."

"Shut down the
solar wings."

"Then they'll
be able to board us."

Sabre shook
his head. "Not if I have anything to do with it. Only thirty
minutes to Lair Nine."

Kole glanced
down at his tactical screens again. "Striker, shut down solar
wings."

"Solar wings,
offline."

"They're
coming closer." Kole frowned at the screens.

Sabre, who
still stood at the back of the bridge, stepped closer to lean on
the back of Kole's seat and look over his shoulder. "Yeah, but
they'll have to take their wings offline in order to get close
enough to board us. Before that, they have to match our speed
exactly, but they've probably got a cyber pilot."

"They're
enforcers; of course they've got a cyber pilot."

"Proximity
alert," Striker murmured.

The ship
jerked, starting to veer. "They've got a grappler on us," Kole
muttered.

"Let me
command Striker," Sabre said.

Kole glared up
at him. "Of course, who better to outwit a cyber pilot than another
cyber pilot?"

Sabre inclined
his head. "That's the idea."

"Striker,
allow input from designated individual Sabre, voice recognition
activation... now."

"Hello,
Striker," Sabre said.

"Greetings,
Sabre. Voice recognition input complete, Kole."

Kole sat back,
looking unhappy, and Sabre leant closer to study the tactical
screens. "Striker, activate full burn, port side manoeuvring
thrusters."

The ship
tilted, its movement only noticeable on the tactical readouts,
which logged the change in attitude in relation to its original
one. With a slight jerk, it started to spin, the artificial gravity
making it undetectable.

"Striker, stop
burn," Sabre ordered.

"Thrusters,
offline."

"Let's see
them get grapplers on us now."

Kole nodded.
"That will sure put a cramp in their style, for a while."

"Yeah, next
they'll use a stasis net, but it's bought us some time."

"How will you
counter a stasis net?"

"I can't,”
Sabre said, “but it's not strong enough to prevent all movement, so
I'll still be able to prevent them from deploying a docking
tube."

"What if they
use grapplers as well?"

"They'd have
to be complete morons. If they use grapplers with a stasis field in
place, they'll blow all of us to cosmic particles."

Kole shifted.
"Right. Good thing they know that."

"Of course
they do. You don't, because Striker doesn't have grapplers or a
stasis field generator."

Kole looked up
at him. "Could you not stand so close? I find that having a cyber
breathing down my neck makes my hair stand on end."

Sabre
straightened, smiling. "Only fifteen minutes to Lair Nine."

"Area stasis
field detected," Striker crooned.

"Here we go."
Kole tapped keys on his tactical console. "They're in a hurry. Our
spin's slowing."

Sabre bent to
peer at the tactical readouts again. "They've left it too late.
They won't have time to... Ah shit."

"What?"

"They're not
going to try to board us before the Lair Nine exit; they're going
to drag us past it."

"Oh... bugger.
What are we going to do?"