The Cyber Chronicles 04: Cyborg
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
The Cyber Chronicles IV
Cyborg
T C Southwell
Published by T C Southwell at Smashwords
Copyright © 2011 by T C Southwell
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
Queen Tassin Alrade leant on the battlements and gazed out across the forest that stretched away to the horizon all around her castle, beyond which the sun sank in a medley of red and gold. Deep in the woodland’s green gloom, deer grazed and wolves hunted, foxes barked and birds sang. Below her, peasants rattled past on rickety carts filled with produce or firewood, calling greetings to the guards on the ramparts. Life went on as it always had, but for her it no longer had any joy in it. The gusting wind ruffled her ink-black hair, carrying scents of wood smoke and flowers. She still missed Sabre with every iota of her being. His memory haunted her dreams and her waking hours, too. She recalled his gentle strength and teasing smile, the way he had taken care of her and how safe she had been with him. She longed to have that again, but knew she never would. The laser cannons on her battlements were a constant reminder of him, what he stood for and where he had come from.
Manutim had taken him back there, beyond the stars; somewhere out in the heavens, lost in the black void. Nor had she seen the spacer she had thought was a magician since then. If she had, she would have begged him to bring Sabre back, or take her to him. Anything to be reunited with him, for being apart from him was too painful to bear. Desolate dark blue eyes stared back at her from the mirror now, lacklustre and sorrowful in a pale face whose youthful innocence had been tempered by grief and bitterness, even though she was only twenty-one years old.
There had been no parties, feasts or celebrations at Castle Alrade since she had returned after that fateful night, cold and bereft. She had wept for weeks, missed him and cursed the cruelty of his strange origins that had taken him from her. The despair in his eyes in the instant before Manutim had pushed the button that had robbed him of his freedom would haunt her forever. She remembered his peaceful face as he lay in the casket, his skin cool, unaware of her tears that had run across his skin when she had kissed him goodbye. He had wanted to die rather than be returned to the slavery of being a cyber host, and she had sworn to find and free him.
An impossible promise she had been unable to keep. She raised her eyes to the sky, her heart aching, as usual. Since he had left, a tale had sprung up of an invincible magical warrior who dwelt somewhere in the forest. She had started it, and fostered it, wishing it was true. Sometimes she allowed herself to dream that it was true, and would imagine she glimpsed a sun-burnished golden warrior standing in a glade while she was out riding in the forest. The legend kept her safe from the kings who had tried so hard to annex her kingdom through marriage, greedy for her verdant land and prosperous towns. Sabre was gone, however, packed away in a grey casket, more dead than alive. Three years of grinding misery had passed since then, especially since about two years ago, when her last hope of ever finding him had been snuffed out.
For the first year she had had hope, although it had dwindled over the months of fruitless searching for one thing that might make journeying to the stars possible: the sword she had brought from the Death Zone. It contained the Core, the evil entity that had once ruled and formed the Death Zone, which had become trapped in the weapon Sabre had used to destroy it. The Core could twist time and space, for that was how it had created the Death Zone. Although it had lost most of its power, she knew it could help her. It had transported her and Sabre to the skifgar world and brought them back. If only she could find it. Sabre, she was sure, had hidden it, for he had hated it. She had practically torn the castle apart looking for it, and there was still a handsome reward for its location or any information that led to its discovery. Sabre’s hiding place remained a mystery, however. Perhaps he had buried it in the forest, or thrown it in a lake. He might even have bricked it up in a wall; there was just no way to know. Tassin sighed and rubbed her stinging eyes.
A polite cough made her turn to find an auburn-haired lady-in-waiting in a dull blue gown trimmed with white embroidery standing a few steps away, looking apologetic.
“Excuse me, Majesty.”
“What is it?” Tassin disliked being disturbed during her sunset retreat.
“This boy…” The woman reached around and drew a shock-haired urchin from behind her skirts. “Says he has found something you might want.”
Tassin studied the lad, who looked about ten years old, and was covered from head to foot in soot, probably a chimney sweep. He also looked terrified, and clutched something in his grimy hands. She smiled at him and softened her tone. “What did you find, boy?”
“A key, Missus,” he said.
The lady-in-waiting cuffed him. “Majesty.”
He cringed. “Majesty.”
The lady-in-waiting grimaced and drew out a lace handkerchief to wipe her hand.
Tassin shot her a frown and then smiled at the boy again. “A key? Where did you find it?”
“In the chimney in the room where the star warrior stayed… Majesty.”
Tassin’s heart leapt and thudded. “Show me.”
The boy opened his hands and held them out, displaying a small copper key, the sort that fitted cupboards and wardrobes. Her heart sank a little, but she kept her smile in place. Could it be that ridiculously simple? Sabre’s old quarters had been searched several times, however. There could not be a locked cupboard in it. She held out her hand.
“May I have it?”
The boy gave it to her, and she studied it. Verdigris made it almost entirely green, so it had evidently been hidden somewhere for a long time. Perhaps three years. His room had been empty since he had left, so no one had swept the chimney, until now.
“Let’s go and see what it opens, shall we?”
Eager to discover what the key fitted, and allowing a little hope to seep into her heart, Tassin swept past them and headed for the stairs.
Arriving in Sabre’s old rooms, she looked around, memories rushing back thick and fast. Apart from supervising the searches in the days after he had left, she had not braved his rooms and all the memories they brought back. She had hardly entered them when he had been at the castle, but somehow his presence lingered
. She could almost see him leaning against the wall beside the window, smiling at her, his gentle grey eyes alight. In the lounge, two brown sofas faced a low wooden table and a sideboard held a few nick-knacks. Nothing had been moved, and in the bedroom the bed he had slept in still stood against one wall, a bedside table next to it. A wardrobe still held the clothes he had worn, and dusty blue curtains framed the windows. There was no cupboard, and her heart sank. She turned to the boy and the lady-in-waiting, who stood behind her.
“There is no cupboard.”
“’Scuse me Missus, but there is,” the boy said.
The lady-in-waiting raised her hand.
“Strike the boy again and you will forfeit your post,” Tassin said.
The woman stepped back and lowered her eyes. “Sorry, Majesty.”
Tassin turned to the boy again. “Where is the cupboard?”
He pointed at the darkest corner of the room, where several old portraits were stacked against the wall. “Behind them.”
Tassin wondered how he knew that, but shrugged it off. It did not matter. Going over to the portraits, she pushed them away, and the boy stacked them against another wall. All she found behind them was a small corner and a musty curtain, and her heart sank again. The boy, however, brushed past her and pushed aside the curtain. There behind it, in a nook made by an overlapping wall that some architectural bungle had created, so grey with dust that it almost matched the stone walls, was a small cupboard. Her heart thudded again as she bent and fitted the key into the lock. It resisted a bit, and then turned with a click. Tassin pulled the door open and stifled a gasp.
In the gloom within, a long narrow object was wrapped in a ragged cloth. She fell to the knees, uncaring of her silver-grey skirts or the white lace that edged them, and reached in to draw out the bundle. Her throat closed with joy as the cloth fell away to reveal a gleaming steel sword with an intricate gold hilt that she instantly recognised. The sword whined, and a frisson shot through her fingers when she touched it, her breath catching in a sob.
“I found you…” she whispered.
The sword chimed and turned to crystal with a flash of ruby light. The lady-in-waiting gasped, and the boy gaped.
“Is that the sword, Majesty?” the woman asked.
Tassin nodded. “It is. This is the sword. The chaos weapon. The Core. I found it.” She clasped it to her breast, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. How had they missed it? Had the searchers not bothered to try to open a locked cupboard? Had they not seen it behind the portraits and curtain? Had the portraits been stacked in front of it during the search, even? It did not matter; she had found it. She had hope again. She stood up and turned to the boy.
“You will be rewarded.”
The lad grinned, his black eyes sparkling. Tassin headed for her study to start making arrangements. She had much to do and no time to waste. Sabre must not remain a slave a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. Her heart pounded with joy. What had he said about the sword? She recalled his words, spoken in his soft, husky voice. ‘It has the power to open portals in time and space and draw other worlds into its sphere of influence’. If it could do that, it could take her to wherever he was. She clutched the weapon, rubbing spots of rust off its blade. The cupboard had been dry and sealed, so the sword showed few signs of corrosion. She picked up her skirts and almost ran along the grey stone corridors towards her study, startling guards and servants.
Tassin stood in the centre of the empty room in the upper battlements where she had chosen to begin her journey. She wore a tough silver-studded black leather jerkin and a matching riding skirt over silk pantaloons and a royal blue blouse. Strong boots shod her feet, and a bag of jewels and gold hung from her belt beside a dagger and the scabbard that would house the sword she now held. One thing she had learnt on her journeys through strange lands with Sabre, and that was to dress appropriately. Dena stood a few paces away, chewing her lip. She had grown into a pretty young woman of about fifteen years old, with maturity far beyond her years.
Tassin’s nobles and advisors had objected strongly to Dena’s elevation to Regent in Tassin’s absence, but she had overruled their arguments. She had no time to debate the matter with them. Dena was a princess and the Queen’s adopted sister, and she would be Regent. Tassin would only be gone for a few weeks or months, at most, and she trusted Dena above all others. She was perhaps the only person who did not have her own agenda, and was utterly loyal to Tassin. Dena herself was a little worried about the arrangement, but had not argued. She wanted Sabre back, too. After he had left, she had suffered nightmares of him drowning in dark water for months. At the time, Tassin had wondered if the mutant girl was not a little bit fey, and had some sort of connection to the man she loved so much.
Dena hurried forward and embraced Tassin, her eyes filled with worry. The Queen returned it, hampered by the weapon, and hot tears stung her eyes. When Dena stepped back, Tassin lifted the sword and held it before her. She was not sure this would even work, but she had to try. It was her only chance. She smiled at the Princess.
“Look after my kingdom.”
Dena nodded. “I will. Be careful, and good luck. Bring Sabre home.”
“I won’t rest until I find and free him.”
“I know.”
Tassin nodded and faced the sword. “Sword. Take me to where Sabre is.”
The weapon gave a flat chime, which she interpreted as refusal.
She frowned. After everything she had been through, she would not allow the sword to cheat her of her quest. “If you don’t obey me, I’ll have you melted down. I’ll send you to the blacksmith, you hear me? If you want to be cherished, you must be useful. Take me to where Sabre is, now!”
The sword flashed to crystal, and Tassin held her breath. Its light flared, shimmering with rainbow colours, and enveloped her in blinding brilliance that forced her to shut her eyes. She experienced a sensation of weightlessness and intense cold that chilled her skin and filled her heart with dread, then the sensations vanished and solid ground hit her feet. Tassin staggered and fell to her knees, her head spinning. As the dizziness ebbed and the world slowed, she opened her eyes. The lingering dregs of vertigo made her lean sideways as she took in her extraordinary surroundings.
Tall glass spires surrounded her, shining in early morning sunlight, and streams of gleaming, multi-coloured vehicles swept past close by and overhead. People wandered along the street, clad in bright, finely made clothes, the men and most of the women wearing trouser suits, with a few women in short skirts.
Tassin remained on her knees, the sword lying beside her on the speckled concrete, her fingers still gripping its hilt as she gaped at the alien city, hardly able to believe it had worked. She cringed as a man stopped beside her and bent to peer at her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his words heavily accented, but understandable, to her surprise.
She nodded and climbed to her feet, using the sword as a prop. “Yes, thank you.”
The man smiled and continued on his way, and she turned to take in the amazing vista of buildings and streets as more people thronged them, disembarking from flying vehicles that swooped down to drop them off. Skyways spanned the gaps between many of the tall buildings, and bright signs flashed alien messages. It resembled the ancient, ruined city she had visited on Omega Five with Sabre, only this one was intact and inhabited. The whizzing vehicles unnerved her, and she moved closer to the nearest wall, wondering what she should do now. There was no sign of Sabre, so she could only assume that the sword had brought her to the right planet, but had not been able to deposit her at his side. Remembering it, she sheathed it.
Now what? She looked around and set off along the street, hoping to find something that might give her a clue as to what she should do next. How was she going to find Sabre in what was obviously a massive metropolis? She did not think the sword could help her further, and she was reluctant to use it again. Perhaps it could not pin point him any better, but,
then again, it might have taken her somewhere far from him, where she would search fruitlessly. Sabre had not trusted it, and neither did she. The chaos weapon was a malevolent entity. She passed vast shops with windows full of amazing clothes, jewellery and strange mechanical devices, towering businesses clad in shining steel and glass, and massive inns with marble foyers full of plants and well-dressed people.
By the afternoon, she had walked for kilometres, she estimated, yet nothing had changed. The city seemed endless and her quest doomed. How was she supposed to find a cyber in such a crowded city? A man who was clone, one of thousands, she guessed, and who did not even have a proper name. Only the one she had given him. The streets had become less populated and the buildings not so grand, and she turned into an alley to quit the throngs of pedestrians, seeking solitude. Now she wished she had brought some food, for her stomach growled and her throat was dry. Sabre would have brought supplies. He would have known what to do, too.
This was his world, but to her it was a strange and frightening place filled with uncaring people. She missed him more than ever, and she had not thought that was possible. Tassin sank down beside a wall in the dim alley, where scraps of paper scuttled along the pavement in the wind, and rested her aching legs. Soon dusk would fall, and she was lost in this vast, alien city. Despair made her eyes sting and she rubbed them, determined not to give in to it. She was a warrior queen, she would find a way. What she needed was someone who knew how to locate a cyber in a city, she decided. After resting for half an hour or so, she rose to her feet and went back to the busy street. Just up the road, she approached the liveried flunky who stood outside a gleaming inn, and he turned to smile at her.