The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin

by T C Southwell

Sabre closed his eyes, recalling the agony that flooded his skull when the cyber tried to take over. It still functioned. Its scanner information appeared in his mind as a black field sprinkled with different coloured lights, each indicating the presence of a particular kind of life form. He understood it perfectly after the years as a powerless spectator. He had left a lot out of his tale, for she would not understand it. The electric shocks they had used during his training to speed up his reflexes, the enhanced hearing, taste and touch senses, the skin treatments to withstand radiation, which was why his skin was a peculiar golden colour. Then there was his increased lung capacity, the increase of instinctive responses to certain stimuli, and dulling of others. The myriad languages he spoke, read and wrote, all piped into his brain by forced learning for the cyber’s use, along with reams of programming and terabytes of information. He knew how to operate every space faring vessel ever built and all the atmospheric craft on any given planet, as well as every weapon, modern and ancient, known to man, plus a few alien ones to boot.

  The cyber’s information was even updated periodically by transmissions from Myon Two, relayed via its outposts. A cyber, however, was designed to operate in a modern environment, where it had the ability to hack online security systems and override complex codes through its interface with all other AI modules. Even alien systems were not beyond its capabilities, with its powerful deciphering and translation facilities.

  As supercomputers went, the tiny monster in the brow band, fondly known to cyber technicians as a control unit, was without peer. Even on this planet, it still had many advantages in the form of the strength, speed, reflexes and fighting skills of its host, not to mention terabytes of war craft and stratagems. The unavailability of modern technology hampered it, however, especially once the energy weapons that had come with it ran out of power.

  How could he ever explain to this naive girl what it was like to be a back seat observer to his actions, unable to do so much as yawn? He had only ever seen other people do that, but it looked interesting. What was it like, to yawn? Or sneeze? He had always been fully aware of his movements, and the sensations that accompanied them, which was why, when he had regained control, he had little difficulty adjusting.

  Occasionally, he experienced slight tremors, which were probably due to an intermittent firing of motor neurons still under the cyber’s control. Doubtless the little mechanical monster was on a full time mission to reclaim control of its host, but for now, he was in charge. He had endured far more, in the screaming silence of his skull, than he could ever tell anyone. For twenty years, he had thought the inner prison would be his tomb, and never hoped to escape it, until now. He had suffered indescribable agony and been unable even to give vent to his pain. No matter how brief his freedom was, he would make the most of it, and cram as much enjoyment into the time as he could, so he could live on the memories for the rest of his life.

  Sabre sighed and opened his eyes to study the girl beside him. She was only a girl, albeit a queen, young and spoilt, but beautiful. Although brave, she was also wilful and selfish. The way she had treated the cyber told him that she scorned the lower classes, which she obviously considered him to be. If he stayed with her, he mused, his life would not be much fun, but would continue to consist mainly of hard work and servitude, which he longed to escape.

  Sabre wondered if he was going to be able to get along with her, and perhaps wean her from the aristocratic scorn on which she had been raised. Otherwise, he could find little reason to remain with her. His short spell of freedom was far too precious to waste. Still, she had shown anguish at his suffering and even tried to offer sympathy, so perhaps she could be moulded into a better person yet, for she was still young enough to change.

  His vision went black, and pain exploded inside his skull. He writhed, gripping the brow band as flashing lights danced in his vision and parts of him went numb. He fought to stay in control as the blackness tried to swallow him, sucked at his mind and strived to hurl it back into the dark corner it had occupied for so many years. The cyber’s hooks, deep in his brain, sent lances of agony through his cerebral cortex, striving to overload his mind with pain and send him into shock.