The Cyber Chronicles IX - Precipice

by T C Southwell

  "I know." She stood up. "I'd better get ready for dinner."

  ****

  The control unit's warning light jerked Sabre awake, and he sat up in the soft king-sized bed to scan the dim bedroom. All seemed peaceful and quiet. According to the cyber, he had been asleep for six hours. He rubbed his eyes, rose and dressed, then padded through to the lounge, wondering what had sparked the cyber's warning.

  The ship's husky voice said, "Translocation in one minute."

  Sabre left the suite at a run, heading for the bridge along a velvet-floor black corridor with a glowing ceiling. Fairen stood in the centre of the gigantic black room whose hellish ambience was due, in part, to the swathes of backlighted floor to ceiling crimson curtains that hung at even intervals around its walls. The young Overlord gazed out of one of the four huge circular screens, a frown furrowing his brow, and turned when Sabre ran in. The cyber slowed to a walk to approach him, aware of the dozen soldiers stationed around the walls, each armed with a lethal poison dart gun.

  "What's happened?" he asked.

  "An Overlord has been attacked at Permon Seven."

  "Attacked by whom?"

  Fairen rubbed his tousled hair. "It sounds like another Corsair station, and it's Ramadaus who's been attacked. He's in trouble. I have to help him."

  "Of course you do."

  Commander Shrain stepped out of the shadows. "My Lord, the Thaytan ships are too close to us. Our translocation will damage them."

  Fairen swung around. "Why are they so close?"

  "Apparently they found the Scorpion Ship's continued presence interesting, and many yachts and tourist vessels have approached us."

  "Delay translocation and send a pulse."

  Sabre wondered why there were no distant booms or groans, then remembered that the ship had gone into translocation configuration right after the battle, but had not left, because Fairen had gone to sleep. He glanced up at the screens, where a plethora of silver ships hung in space around them. If the Scorpion Ship had been going into translocation configuration, doubtless its changing aspect would have warned them, and they would have moved away, but now they lingered, driven by curiosity. Shrain tapped his com-link, and a green glow ran over Scorpio's skin. A shimmer swept out in a wave, causing the silver ships to roll and veer, rocked by the fiery shockwave. Flames sprouted from their tails and sides as they turned away from the Scorpion Ship, retreating.

  Shrain frowned at his com-link. "They will be at a safe distance in fifteen seconds... all except one, which appears to have engine failure."

  "The fools! I have no wish to harm them. Get rid of it, Shrain."

  "Yes, My Lord."

  A filament of green light snaked from one of the main arms, latched on to the crippled ship and thrust it away to a safe distance, then winked out.

  "All safe," Shrain muttered.

  "Translocate. And send a message to the Thaytan high commander, that if Thaytan ships approach an Overlord vessel so close again, they will be destroyed. They must not delay an Overlord with their presence."

  "Yes, My Lord." He tapped the com-link. "Translocation in ten seconds."

  Sabre braced himself, imagining what the Thaytan observers would see as the Scorpion Ship translocated. It would become incandescent for a moment, like a star, then simply vanish, leaving a fairly powerful gravity shockwave. What the ship did, in effect, was generate a spacial distortion that caused a wormhole to form, folded space and punched a hole through it, which it then side-slipped through. The stasis field clamped down, immobilising him with its smothering embrace for several seconds, indicating that this was another long jump. The pressing force released him, and he staggered, raising his head to look up at the screens. A yellow planet hung in space, silvered by a blue giant's light, a huge dark moon orbiting it.

  The silver and gold Moth Ship was off the port bow, and Sabre stared at it in surprise. Its giant filigree wings were spread like a glinting net, and blue fire streamed from their leading edges, bathing a sparkling lattice orb with a tiny silver core. There was a second battle station behind the Moth Ship, whose rear laser cannons sent burning light flashing through it, but neither orb was damaged. Dull grey ships with glittering silver cobweb wings fired bolts of yellow fire at the battle stations, and several boxy Corsairs attacked the defenders.

  Clearly Ramadaus had been summoned here just as the Corsairs' attack had summoned Fairen to Thayta Three, and with the same intent. In this instance, the Overlord had become the target, and the residents of Permon Seven strived to save him from the battle stations. Most of the Corsair ships fled when the Scorpion Ship appeared, some of the defenders chasing after them. One of the stations fired a net of vermilion plasma, which the green web around Ramadaus' ship shredded, but remnants got through, scoring glowing wounds in the Moth Ship's glinting hull.

  Fairen's nostrils flared. "Scorpio, battle mode."

  Shrain cast him a martyred look and lowered the com-link as he stepped back into the shadows. It seemed that as soon as Fairen spoke directly to the ship, Shrain became superfluous. An aide approached Fairen and whispered to him, and the boy cast Sabre an irritated glance, then held out a hand to the aide, who gave him a veiled hood. Fairen donned it and nodded to the aide, who beckoned to the guards by the door. Kole and the two techs entered and bowed to Fairen, who ignored them. Distant booms and groans echoed through the ship as it went into attack mode, the vast main arms spreading.

  Kole approached Sabre, Estrelle and Martis following. "What's going on?"

  Sabre explained, and the trio stared at the Moth Ship as the battle station behind it fired, hitting one of Overlord ship’s wings. The delicate silver and gold web buckled, and Fairen swore.

  "That fool is a mule."

  "Why doesn't he leave?" Sabre asked.

  Fairen glanced back at him. "Like I said, he's a mule. He'll stay and fight."

  "But he can't harm them."

  "Ramadaus will never back down, even if it kills him."

  Kole leant closer to Sabre. "Doesn't he have plasma guns?"

  "No."

  "So how does he blow up planets?"

  Fairen turned. "He has particle disintegrators. He doesn't blow them up, he turns them into clouds of dust, but a particle disintegrator is useless against something as small as those orbs. My main gun is also too powerful to use safely against them, but it works."

  "And how," Kole muttered.

  "Kindly be quiet." Fairen turned back to the screens.

  Faint vibrations ran through the floor as the Red Death's main arms spread and the tail gun curled over its back. One of the orbs turned towards them, flames sprouting from its edges. The battle station behind the Moth Ship fired again, and the Overlord ship became radiant, then winked out of existence, reappearing on the far side of the orb. Double gravity shockwaves rippled from its exit and re-entry points, rocking the Corsair stations. The one that turned to face Scorpio aligned its arms, preparing to fire.

  "Main gun, ready," Scorpio said. "Targeting; preparing to fire."

  A blue beam shot from above the bridge, hit the central sphere and made it shed beams of light. A moment later, the crimson plasma bolt followed. It ate through the filigree orb and struck the tiny sphere, which disintegrated into a cloud of debris. Scorpio turned to face the second battle station, which also turned towards her, ignoring the lasers of the Moth Ship beyond it.

  Fairen cursed. "He's in the way."

  "He'll move," Sabre said.

  The beam of blue light targeted the second orb, making the sphere blaze. The plasma bolt shot from above them, spreading into a net of super-heated particles. It struck the battle station, flashing through the web of silver struts to the sphere, which exploded. Remnants of the plasma passed through it and flew towards the Moth Ship, which vanished in a flash, reappearing closer to Scorpio.

  "Enemy destroyed," the ship said.

  "Exit battle mode."

  Once more the dull booms and clangs reverberated through the ship, a
nd Shrain stepped from the shadows to say, "Overlord Ramadaus requests contact."

  Fairen nodded. "Allow him." He turned to Kole and the two techs. "Leave us. Sabre, stay."

  Guards showed the trio out, and Fairen stepped onto one of the seven pale circles on the floor. A minute later, a shaft of golden radiance illuminated the circle beside it.

  Ramadaus appeared within it and turned to face his peer. "Greetings, Fairen."

  "And to you, Ramadaus."

  "A timely intervention."

  "So it would seem. Foolish of you to stay, when you couldn't harm them."

  Ramadaus shrugged. "You have my gratitude. Why the veils?"

  The young Overlord removed his hood. "I had company. I have sent them away."

  Ramadaus glanced at Sabre, his sallow, cadaverous face stiffening. "You still have company."

  "He's seen you before."

  "Unfortunately. Why is he here?"

  Fairen tilted his head. "Could he not merely be visiting? He is, after all, my friend."

  "Perhaps. Is he?"

  "I think you know why he's here."

  The older Overlord shook his head. "Not really."

  "No, you don't. But you should. Why did you give Myon Two a bracelet to study?"

  Ramadaus hesitated, then smiled. "Very clever. I told you I would not stand for him to live free, that's why I gave them one."

  "And by doing so, endangered every friend we have, including your own."

  "They have no reason to harm my friends."

  "And yet, now that they know how to open a bracelet, what's to stop them, or some over-ambitious Cybercorp tech, from selling that knowledge to our enemies?"

  Ramadaus frowned. "The fear of reprisals."

  "But I didn't know Sabre had been abducted, because they left the bracelet on Omega Five. How will you know, if your enemies do the same to one of your friends now? They could have been abducted and killed already, and you won't know about it. Or they could be kidnapped and held to ransom, and you won't be able to find them and save them."

  "No one would dare."

  "Not while they wore a bracelet, no, because they could summon us to their aid, but now... your friends are in danger too, and every friend of every Overlord. The others will be angry."

  "Myon Two won't betray us."

  "Of course they will,” Fairen said. “But I'm on my way there now, to exact some vengeance and justice for my friend's abduction. This you brought on them, by giving them a bracelet."

  "He wasn't supposed to escape."

  "And yet, he did. So the universe keeps the balance. Now there will be consequences. And I warn you, if Sabre dies, so will one of your friends, perhaps both."

  "They weren't going to kill him," Ramadaus said.

  "No, they were going damage his brain, so they could burn him for sport, or demonstrations. Some such barbarism. Whatever happens to him in the future will happen to one of your friends, like for like. You betrayed me, now you know what happens if you do it again."

  Ramadaus scowled, but inclined his head. "The orbs?"

  "Corsair battle stations. Perhaps there are more. Only those of us with plasma particle cannons can destroy them. I'll warn the others."

  "This matter is resolved."

  At Fairen’s nod, Ramadaus stepped out of the light, vanishing, and the columns of brilliance faded. In the screens, the Moth Ship had transformed to its dormant state, the huge wings folded into a sleek wedge-shaped vessel. Fairen sighed, rubbed his brow and went into his private lounge. Sabre watched the Moth Ship disappear in a coruscating shimmer of white light, sending out a rippling photon and gravity shockwave, then followed.

  The boy sat on one of the soft white couches, and glanced up at Sabre’s entry, looking tired.

  Sabre settled opposite and poured a glass of fruit juice from the decanter on the low coffee table between the sofas. "Will that stop him?"

  "Probably not. He'll just make sure no blame can be assigned to him, then threaten to kill any future friend I might have if I kill or cripple his. When you take on an Overlord, you must expect a grim battle of wills, even if you're an Overlord yourself. The only way I can ensure your safety is if you stay with me."

  "I'm sorry it's causing you so much... strife."

  "It's not your fault that he's such a stubborn, selfish bastard."

  Sabre leant back. "This has been quite a day. Is it always this busy?"

  "Yes, pretty much. Sometimes I have a few quiet days, but not often. There are about fifteen million stars in this galaxy, with ten planets each, on average, and one per cent of them are inhabited. That's a lot of people for just seven Overlords to oversee."

  "Why don't you build more ships and have more Overlords?"

  "It's not a shortage of ships; it's a shortage of Overlords. Of the seven, currently only two have apprentices, and that's nowhere near enough. Empaths are rare, and finding them is hard."

  "You have people searching?"

  Fairen nodded. "All the time. Too often we find them when they're too old. They must be children, or at least young adults."

  Sabre consulted the control unit's clock. "We still have an hour to make it to Myon Two before the enforcers."

  "Yes." Fairen raised his head and addressed the air. "Translocate to Myon Two."

  "You're not too tired?"

  "If I don't do this now, something else will come up. I'm fine." Fairen poured himself a drink, this one a rich, lumpy brew, which looked like a meal in a glass.

  "Translocating in one minute," Scorpio said, and the dull booms and distant groans echoed through the ship once more.

  Chapter Two

  President Atrashka looked up from the multitude of vidrecords and data wands strewn across his polished ebony desk as his assistant burst into his office, flapping his hands.

  "Sir! Sir, there's a..." The gangly, balding man gulped, looking hunted.

  "A what?" Atrashka demanded. "Spit it out, man, I hate guessing games."

  "A..." The assistant tapped a keypad on the Myon Two president's desk. The vidscreen on the far wall came to life, and an announcer spoke in a rapid, alarmed tone. The image that appeared was of a colossal blood-red ship going into orbit over Myon Two's pearly globe, other ships darting away from it.

  The assistant waved at the screen. "An Overlord, Sir."

  Atrashka stared at it, his stomach clenched. "The Red Death. Oh, god, what has some fool done to piss off Overlord Fairen now?"

  "It's the Scorpion Lord, sir, the same one who -"

  "I know. Dammit! Get my best suit, hurry!"

  The man ran to the walk-in vry wood wardrobe and rummaged in it as Atrashka stripped off his shirt, listening to the announcer.

  "...Just seven months ago, the Scorpion Lord threatened to destroy Myon Two if his friend was not found. Now he's back, and speculation is rife as to his reasons this time. Most feel that the Cyber Centre is to blame, and are calling for an investigation into the goings on there. President Atrashka will be summoned to face Overlord Fairen momentarily, we expect, and once more will have to endure the wrath of the most feared Overlord of all, known as the Red Death..."

  Atrashka switched the screen off. His assistant hurried over, clutching a clean white shirt, blue and gold-striped tie and dark blue suit, which Atrashka snatched from him and pulled on.

  ****

  Fairen gazed at the pale planet, his brow furrowed. Ships fled from orbits nearby, moving into space to wait. They were forbidden to leave the vicinity while an Overlord was there, but clearly wished to put as much distance between themselves and the Scorpion Ship as they could. Any ship attempting to leave would be destroyed, and they knew it.

  "Fear," Fairen murmured. "That's how we rule. Look at them, scuttling like rats from a light, riddled with guilt. I despise them more and more."

  "Only the guilty fear you. The Thaytans love you."

  "True. Thaytans are good people, contented and peaceful, artistic and gentle. But if they transgressed and were punished,
they would fear us too."

  "Then they would have reason to, and good people don't commit crimes."

  Fairen sighed, nodding. "My visit to Thayta was the first time an Overlord has gone there."

  "Then you shouldn't feel bad that Myon Two fears you. They brought it on themselves."

  "A few of them."

  "Then they must police their people better."

  Fairen pulled a face and turned away. "People are devious. Shrain, summon President Atrashka, Cyber Host Research Department Head Jorran, and Host Researcher Rond."

  Shrain nodded, tapping his com-link. "At once, My Lord."

  "Send for the enforcer commanders, and Sabre's companions."

  "Yes, My Lord."

  Fairen stepped onto the shallow dais and pulled on his veiled hood. Adjusting the voice distorter in front of his mouth, he sat on his gold-ornamented onyx throne. Sabre went over to stand next to the dais, glancing at Vorn, who stood in the shadows behind Fairen. The four pedestal-mounted torches around the dais burst into flame and the floating globes and curtain back lighting dimmed, increasing the echoing chamber’s sinister air.

  Atrashka arrived first; the guards marched him in and made him stand on one side of the room, where he fidgeted, tugged at his collar and sweated. When the six enforcer commanders were brought in, Atrashka stared at them with wide, horrified eyes. Kole and the two techs entered next. They approached Sabre, eyeing the Myonars. Finally Jorran and Rond arrived, looking dishevelled and scared. They were brought to stand before Fairen, and bowed low, their eyes darting. Jorran spotted Sabre and gaped at him.

  Fairen sat motionless for a full two minutes, giving everyone ample time to absorb the enormity of their crimes and contemplate the possible consequences. Jorran gulped and sweated, Rond cast pleading looks at Estrelle and Martis. Atrashka looked sick and the enforcers stood rigid, their eyes glazed.

  Fairen raised his head. "Judgement."

  The voice distorter made his tone low and menacing, and the word boomed around the room, jerking everyone's attention to him. Atrashka closed his eyes, looking ready to pass out. Jorran shifted as if he wanted to bolt. Fairen waved a hand in a slow, graceful gesture, and Sabre smiled, admiring the boy's poise and sense of the theatrical.