The Cyber Chronicles VII - Sabre

by T C Southwell

  "I'm going to ask Atrel if I can call Fairen. The enforcers must have stopped jamming us by now; we've been in a corridor for two hours."

  "He won't let you."

  "He wants to save Sabre, doesn't he?"

  "If his pride doesn't get the better of him," Tarl said.

  "I don't think Atrel's as bad as the rest. He seems reasonable." She stood up. "If he won't, we'll just have to use the lasers again."

  "They confiscated them after the last time, remember?"

  "Didn't Sabre get them back?"

  Tarl shook his head. "I didn't tell him that they'd taken them. Did you?"

  "No." She sat down again, slumped with dejection. "Then I'll just have to hope Atrel will let me. Last time I asked, he didn't say no."

  The door opened, and Atrel filled it, two warriors flanking him. Tassin's heart leapt with hope that he had good news, or was here to give her permission to use the communications device. His gaze swept over them.

  "Overlord Fairen requests your presence on his ship. We'll be docking with it shortly."

  "He came!" Relief made Tassin dizzy, and she wanted to laugh. "Sabre must have activated the distress beacon when he was taken. Has Fairen rescued him already?"

  "He didn't say. Bring your possessions. You will not be returning." Atrel was clearly disgusted that Fairen had requested two non-coms instead of him.

  Tarl went over to a cupboard and pulled out his bag, stuffing his few spare clothes and oddments into it. Tassin brushed past Atrel and ran to her cabin to collect her things. When she returned, Atrel was gone, leaving the two warriors to escort them to the docking port, where four black-uniformed soldiers waited. She was amazed to discover that the Trykon warship was berthed in a docking bay so vast that the destroyer seemed like a toy. Quite a large one, but the sheer size of the docking bay dwarfed it. Fairen's crewmen guided her through the Scorpion Ship's black-walled corridors to his control room, where the young Overlord sat on his massive throne, his bright blue eyes filled with worry and his level black brows drawn together. Tassin ran to the dais, dropped her bags and inclined her head. Behind her, Tarl bowed.

  "Where's Sabre?" she burst out, unable to control her desperate need for news of him.

  Fairen's brows rose. "Greetings, Queen Tassin."

  "Forgive me, Overlord Fairen, I'm so worried about him. Thank you for coming."

  "Regrettably, I don't know where he is, or even if he's alive, any more than you do. Cyber remains were detected in the debris of the enforcer ship the Trykons destroyed."

  Tassin's heart sank, but she shook her head, determined not to give in to despair. Sabre could not be dead. "No, he must be on the other one."

  "I hope so."

  "They'll take him to Myon Two. We have only to go there to find him."

  "It will take them three months to reach Myon Two using corridors. Since I followed your ship instead of them, I've lost their trail."

  Tassin looked away, despondent. "They'll do terrible things to him in three months."

  "I agree. Which is why I intend to go immediately to Myon Two and demand his release. But I must warn you, if they have the audacity to go against my order not to hunt him, they won't easily admit to having done so."

  "They can't lie to you."

  "Myon Two is a big planet. The enforcer factions are manifold, and it's entirely possible that their president has no knowledge of who did this."

  "But he can find out!"

  Fairen gazed at her pensively. "He won't be willing to help. He will agree to do so, but how much effort do you think he'll put into it? And while he's pretending to help, Sabre suffers on that ship."

  "What else can we do?"

  "Unfortunately, our options are limited."

  Tassin stepped forward. "Fairen, you have unlimited power. Use it, please. Sabre saved your life twice. Surely that counts for something?"

  He frowned. "Of course it does. Why do you think I'm here?"

  Tarl touched Tassin's elbow and whispered, "Hey, cool it. Remember who you're talking to."

  She nodded, bowing her head as she struggled to control her emotions. "I'm sorry, My Lord."

  He waved a slender hand. "I understand your anguish. I share it. What would you have me do?"

  "Send out ships to search for the enforcers. Put a bounty on their heads. Order every planet to report them if they stop to refuel or pass through their territory."

  "There are thousands of enforcer ships. How would they know it was the right one?"

  "Then order them to board and search every enforcer ship they find."

  He sighed, shaking his head. "That would spark conflicts. Myon Two is a powerful world. Few would be willing to take on enforcers. And even if they did do it, how would they tell him apart from the cybers every enforcer ship carries?"

  "The lights on his brow band are different from a normal cyber."

  "That's a very small difference for an untrained man to spot. The enforcers will lie; tell them his brow band is malfunctioning. It won't work."

  "What about the bracelet you gave him?" she asked.

  "If he's still wearing it. They might have removed it. They've already succeeded in stopping the signal, and, since they can't deactivate it, they must have broken it. They know what it is, so they won't take the chance that Sabre activated it."

  "There must be something you can do!"

  Fairen nodded, turning to the man with gold embroidery on his sleeves who stood in the shadows. "Commander Shrain, has the Trykon ship undocked?"

  "Yes, My Lord."

  "Translocate to Myon Two."

  "Yes, My Lord." Shrain consulted his com-link. "Ship is in translocation configuration, generators charged. Translocating in thirty seconds."

  Fairen gazed into space, his expression grim, but pensive. "This will be the first time an Overlord has visited Myon Two."

  ****

  President Niare glanced around in irritation as the com-link on his desk beeped, his knife and fork poised over his half eaten lunch. He hated to be interrupted during a meal, especially when it was buttered benja wings and sweet fetar cream with jem berries. Setting down his utensils, he took a sip of musky red wine and glared at the com-link, wishing he could ignore it and continue to enjoy his lunch. His office was the envy of every other politician on the planet, and quite a few tycoons. Onyx-framed vidcom screens lined his sleek golden vrywood desk, and a matching two metre-square one on the opposite wall came in handy for teleconferences. Plush, wine red, cross-woven carpeting complemented the fawn veer-hide curtains, which framed the floor to ceiling tinted windows that gave a panoramic view of the capital city's vast, glittering splendour. Air-car traffic shot past in fifteen levels of cross lanes, sleek fun cars on the topmost five levels and ponderous commercial freight trucks at the bottom, with public transport in the middle. Wiping crumbs and a smear of sweet sauce from his double chin, he keyed the com-link.

  "What the hell is it? I'm eating my lunch. I said no interruptions."

  "Sir, this is Admiral Menaar. An Overlord has appeared in Myon Two space, just beyond the outer traffic markers. The ship is moving towards the planet."

  Niare stared at the com-link in stunned silence for several moments.

  "Sir? Are you there?" the voice from the com-link demanded.

  "Yes." Niare’s voice emerged as a squeak, and he swallowed hard, his heart pounding. "Which Overlord is it?"

  "The Scorpion Lord."

  "Oh, god. What does he want?"

  "No communications have taken place yet. He's moving into orbit. The disruption to traffic is terrible."

  "Bugger the traffic. Prepare my personal shuttle."

  "Yes, sir."

  President Niare stood up, his mind reeling with shock and terror at the prospect of meeting an Overlord, especially the Red Death, most feared of all. What did he want? He ran a hand over the fine head of regrown brown hair he had had implanted when his original hair had fallen out many years ago. One of the myriad benefits of cyb
er technology was the advanced cloning science Myon Two possessed, which allowed the wealthy to replace ageing or malfunctioning body parts. He went to the gleaming black dim wood door, which slid open. His secretary looked up in surprise.

  "Get in here," Niare ordered. "I have to change into my state clothes in a hurry."

  The vapid, gangly man's eyebrows shot up. "There's no dignitary visiting on my schedule, sir."

  "This dignitary doesn't need an appointment, Frem."

  Frem bristled. "All dignitaries need an appointment to see the president of Myon Two, sir."

  "Yeah? Well you tell that to Overlord Fairen, how about that?"

  Frem paled, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and rose to hurry into Niare's office. "We'll have to prepare an official welcome. A state dinner, and invite all the planetary leaders. When does he arrive?"

  Niare shook his head. "He's already here. Forget about all that crap, Overlords never leave their ships. I'll be summoned as soon as his ship docks into orbit, which it's doing even as we speak, so get a move on."

  Frem trotted into the walk-in vrywood wardrobe, recessed lighting brightening at his entry. He grabbed a white silk shirt, a royal blue jacket, matching trousers, a black and gold tie, black shoes and a belt. Niare shucked his grey jacket and pale blue shirt, revealing a hirsute torso that had benefited from far too many formal afternoon luncheons and the rich gourmet delicacies to be found at political functions and fund raisers. Even cyber technology could not prevent the penalties of excess, although his heart had been replaced twice and his liver once already. Even now, however, cyber sci-techs were working on a way to splice the cyber gene that prevented weight gain to normal human DNA. Frem helped him don the new outfit with shaking hands. He had barely fastened the shirt's zip tabs when the com-link beeped, and he rushed over to it.

  "President Niare's office."

  "This is Admiral Menaar. The president's shuttle is ready, and we've received a message from the Scorpion Ship, demanding his immediate presence."

  "He's on his way."

  Niare's stomach squirmed as Frem hurried back to help him with his tie, knotting it as the president made for the door.

  "Good luck, sir," Frem said.

  Niare shot him a sickly smile and trotted to the lift, where his escort waited.

  Chapter Three

  Fairen tapped his toe, then sighed and turned to Tassin. "If you wish to stay, you'll have to wear a disguise. I don't want him to see you. And you must remain silent."

  She nodded. "As you wish, My Lord."

  Fairen flicked his fingers, and an aide ran off and returned a few minutes later with two hooded cloaks. Tassin and Tarl donned them, pulling up the hoods to hide their faces in shadow.

  Fairen glanced at Shrain. "Where is he?"

  "His shuttle is docking, My Lord."

  "About time."

  Fairen picked up a veiled hood and put it on, adjusting the voice distorter in front of his mouth. The already subdued lighting in the cathedral-like chamber dimmed further, causing the shadows to thicken and hide much of its details. Soft lights glowed behind the thin crimson curtains that hung beside the walls at regular intervals, and the four pedestal-mounted torches around Fairen's dais burst into flames. Their flickering light, combined with the ruddy glow, gave the room a hellish ambience that the light from the pale planet in the screens only dispelled a little. This was, she surmised, to add to Fairen's sinister air, which she hardly thought needed augmenting. Minutes crawled past, and Fairen tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne.

  At last the doors opened, and four guards ushered in a portly man with bushy sideburns and darting brown eyes, whose pale brow gleamed with nervous sweat. Tassin almost pitied him as the soldiers guided him to the front of the dais to face Fairen's hooded presence. President Niare bowed low, straightening hesitantly, as if unsure of whether he was allowed to stand in an Overlord's presence.

  "Overlord Fairen, you do us a great honour. The people of Myon Two rejoice at your unexpected and welcome visit."

  "Do they?" Fairen's deep, distorted voice was menacing, and made even Tassin shiver.

  "Of course, My Lord."

  "Then they are fools, President Niare. Overlords don't pay friendly visits to peaceful planets. We appear where there is conflict and lawlessness."

  "We are a peaceful planet, My Lord." Niare gulped, his eyes darting again.

  "On the surface; but you harbour criminals in your midst."

  "Criminals, My Lord?"

  "One of your enforcer factions has broken an edict laid down by myself and Overlord Ravian just a few months ago."

  Niare looked horrified. "There must be some mistake, My Lord. No one would dare!"

  "I don't make mistakes."

  "No, no, of course not. Someone has lied to you, My Lord."

  "No one lies to me." Fairen stood up and walked closer. Niare looked like he wanted to run. "Including you."

  "I would never do such a thing, My Lord."

  Fairen started to pull off his right glove. "No, you won't."

  Niare watched Fairen's hands like a trapped rabbit. "Wha - what are you going to do?"

  "I have a question."

  "Ask anything, My Lord. I will tell the truth, I swear."

  Fairen stretched his hand out towards Niare, who leant back, his bulging eyes fixed on the young Overlord's slender appendage. "There is a cyber who has been freed from his control unit. You know about this, don't you?"

  "Y-yes, My Lord."

  "I forbade Myon Two enforcers to hunt and capture him."

  "Yes, yes, you did."

  "But they have."

  Niare paled even further, his skin almost turning grey, and his eyes widened. "Impossible, My Lord. No enforcer would break an Overlord's edict."

  "Are you calling me a liar?"

  "No!" Niare's voice cracked, and he coughed. "No, My Lord. But... Who told you this?"

  "No one. I gave the free cyber a distress beacon, should he ever need my aid. That beacon was activated just a few hours ago."

  "That doesn't mean -"

  "I have witnesses. Two enforcer ships took him, one of which was destroyed by the warship he was aboard when he was attacked. These are facts, and not in dispute."

  "I know nothing about this, I swear!"

  Fairen lowered his hand. "There is no need to swear. You will find out who did this, then you will order them to give me the name and location of the ship that took him. If they return him to me unharmed, they will be punished reasonably. If he is harmed, they will be similarly tortured. If he is dead, they will forfeit their lives."

  Niare nodded, but his eyes were filled with doubt. "I'll do my utmost, My Lord, but it'll take time. Certain factions are secretive, and communicating with them will be hard."

  Fairen returned to his throne, settled upon it and pulled his glove back on. "You have two days."

  "That's not enough time, My Lord. It could take weeks, even months."

  "It will take two days, President Niare. I won't threaten your life, because that will mean nothing to your rebel factions."

  "Then... what will you do?"

  Fairen raised his head to gaze at the pale planet in the screens. "Do you know why I'm called the Red Death?"

  "You - you destroy worlds, My Lord."

  "I've destroyed more worlds that any other Overlord." He gestured. "This ship is a planet killer. The main guns will disintegrate a world in less than two hours. It's impervious to attacks from lesser ships, even great fleets of them. Only another Overlord could destroy it, and that, they will never do."

  Niare gulped. "Surely we have done nothing to deserve your wrath, My Lord. The life of one man -"

  "There are only a few reasons for destroying a world," Fairen interrupted. "If there is an incurable, deadly plague that is being spread to other worlds, or if they're attacking other planets and inciting others to war, or producing illegal drugs that cause much death and suffering. An Overlord will order them to stop. They can obey a
nd live, or disobey and be destroyed. Most of my peers are more lenient than I. They will spend time and effort persuading such a recalcitrant people to obey, and sometimes they succeed."

  Fairen leant forward. "I don't believe in wasting my time. You will inform your rebel factions that they have two days to give me the name and location of that ship. If they do not, they are guilty of disobeying an Overlord."

  Fairen turned his head towards Commander Shrain, who stood in the shadows beside the dais. "Put the ship into attack formation, Commander. There is your target." Fairen gestured to the pale globe.

  President Niare fell to his knees and clasped his hands. "I beg you, My Lord, don't do this! The actions of a rebel faction cannot be blamed on the entire planet. There are millions of innocent people here!"

  "There were millions of innocents on Espel Four and Windfall Three, but they perished because those who ruled them disobeyed me. All your factions have to do is obey me, Niare. That's not so hard to do. The lives of the innocents on your world are in their hands, and yours."

  Distant groans and booms echoed through the Scorpion Ship as its great legs moved away from its hull, and Niare cried, "I don't know if I can get the message to them in time, My Lord! Please give me more time! A week at least!"

  "No. Your enforcers are torturing a man who is under my protection. My word and my power are meaningless if I do not enforce them. Be glad that I have given you two days, and not two hours."

  "But My Lord, some of the factions have bases on other worlds, even remote moons, how -?"

  "Get out," Fairen said.

  Niare froze with his mouth open, his eyes bulging with shock and mortification, then rose to his feet, performed a jerky bow and backed away. Two guards stepped up to help him totter from the room, gripping his elbows. Tassin pushed back her hood and walked around to the front of the dais, her eyes wide with amazement and awe. The four torches died and the lighting returned to normal.

  Fairen pulled off his hood and clasped his hands, rested his lips against them and stared at his knees, looking troubled.

  "My Lord." Tassin swallowed, her throat tight. "This is an amazing thing you do. Would you really destroy Myon Two if they don't give Sabre back?"