The Cyber Chronicles 07: Sabre

by T C Southwell

  "How many passive response subroutines are there?"

  "Over a five thousand, dealing with word phrases, hand gestures, eye movements, and all the different kinds of unintelligible noises people sometimes make. It has to deal with every aspect of human interaction, and it must know how to respond to every single one."

  "So what should the cyber's response have been, to a kiss?"

  Tarl shrugged. "From his owner, nothing, from a stranger, a push away."

  Sabre sat up. "That's it."

  "What?"

  "After Tassin freed me, she owned the cyber, so all I had was a proximity alert. Even after the cyber was registered to Fairen, she had command privilege, now she doesn’t even have that. I deleted all the registration data after the battle, remember? That’s why the cyber gave me a proximity warning instead of an alert, which I switched off, but then when she kissed me I had a strong urge to lash out at her. It was scary."

  Tarl nodded. "Sure, if she had command privilege, or was the cyber's owner, her proximity wouldn't have triggered your stranger response subroutine. When Grundel reregistered the cyber with Myon Two, he must have overlooked her command privilege, so you were okay until you purged the data. Also, the more intimate the contact, the more powerful the response would be, so, while you only had a warning light for hugs, you had a far more violent reaction to a kiss."

  "How does it work?"

  "Well, it's like conditioning. When you perceive something, you automatically look for an appropriate response to it. Normal people learn this stuff while they're growing up, or as they go along, but yours is all programmed into your reference data. Like if I do this..." Tarl raised his middle finger. "What would your response be?"

  Sabre lifted his hand and raised the same finger. "What does it mean?"

  "That's a bit of programmer humour. But that's how it works. You just know how to respond, don't you?"

  "Yeah."

  "Reference data. You’ll just have to register her as the cyber’s owner again, and, now that I’ve restored that subroutine, you won’t’ have any more urges to clobber her."

  “That’s a relief.” Sabre accessed the control unit’s registration information and wrote Tassin’s name in the ‘owner’ field and saved it. He only wanted one person to own any part of him, and that was the girl who already owned his heart, and would never hurt or betray him.

  “Yeah, that must have been pretty shitty,” Tarl said. “Good thing you have none of those reactions to me, because of my tattoo. I doubt you’d have made such an effort to hold back, in my case.” He unplugged the data cable, coiled it and hung it on the machine. "I know why Fairen finds you so pleasant to be around, as an empath. Your mind is uncluttered, unemotional. A purely functional data storage facility, devoid of all the usual baggage people acquire while they're growing up. To him, it must be like a nice cool shower." He hesitated. "Would you mind if I ran some tests?"

  "What kind?"

  "To see how you react to certain things. I want to see how human you’re becoming."

  Sabre nodded. "Okay."

  "I'll have to ask some personal questions."

  "Okay."

  "Lie down." Tarl patted the table. "And close your eyes."

  "You want to do it now?"

  "Why not? You have something better to do?”

  Sabre lay back and closed his eyes. "I guess not."

  "Good. Okay, so… I know Tassin means a lot to you, but how do you know you love her? Describe your feelings."

  "I enjoy being with her -"

  "Define enjoy."

  "It makes me happy."

  "Define happy."

  Sabre sighed. "Warm, here." He tapped his chest. "Relaxed, untroubled. I smile a lot."

  "Okay. How would you feel if another man kissed her, and she liked it?"

  Sabre's brow furrowed. "I don't know. Nothing."

  "You wouldn't be angry?"

  "Not if she liked it."

  "You wouldn't be sad?" Tarl asked.

  "No."

  "Not even a little?"

  "No." Sabre opened his eyes. "That's not normal, is it?"

  "Not for a human. For a cyber, it is."

  "Why should it make me sad?"

  "Because it would mean that she liked another man, maybe more than you. It should actually make you jealous."

  "Define jealous."

  Tarl gazed down at Sabre. "You know what, bud? This is a shitty idea. Let's just forget it."

  "Why?"

  "Because I feel like I'm questioning a bloody machine, and I don't like it." He jumped up and walked away, rubbing his neck.

  Sabre sat up. "Why does that bother you?"

  "Because you're my friend!" Tarl swung around, scowling. "You saved my life. I want you to be human."

  "I am."

  "No, you're not. You still don't think like a human. You don't have the right emotional responses."

  "So you think I'm not human?"

  Tarl walked back, shaking his head. "I look at you, I see a man. I talk to you, I hear a machine. I don't know what the hell you are. Your responses seem normal. You even make jokes, but it's... You're... Damn it! Why did you give Tassin all your air when you were in the pod?"

  "I love her. I wanted to save her."

  "Oh, god. Now I understand."

  "What?"

  "It's your conditioning. Access subroutine W473. Read what it says."

  Sabre frowned. "The cyber-bio unit is expendable. Primary function: owner preservation. Secondary function: preservation of persons with command privilege or those designated by owner or persons with command privilege. Cyber unit preservation allowed only if owner and persons with command privilege or those designated -"

  "Okay, okay, it goes on and on. Basically what it says is that all those people are more important than you, and you can't put your life above theirs, or avoid injury if you have to stick your hand in a meat grinder to save them. That's why you wouldn't feel sad or jealous if Tassin liked another man. Your conditioning tells you that you're not important enough. You would just accept it. Why are you so bitter about being treated like equipment?"

  "Because I still remember what it was like to be equipment, made to stand guard for hours without moving, unable to say what I wanted, cut up and tortured, packed into a casket when I wasn’t needed… Sometimes when you do stuff to me, or carp about my bio-status, it makes feel like I’m still equipment, and that makes me angry. I know I’ll never be a real man, but..."

  "Okay, okay." Tarl returned to Sabre’s side and plugged the cable into the brow band again, reading the monitor. "Your heart rate is up to one forty. You're experiencing an emotional reaction. Maybe the only other one you have, apart from your feelings for Tassin. But it's something."

  Sabre looked up at him. "What does that tell you?"

  "That, in time, you could develop other emotional responses, like jealousy. It's a good sign."

  Sabre unplugged the cable. "And when you stop plugging me into a monitor, that will be a good sign that you've stopped treating me like equipment."

  "You're angry." Tarl shook his head. "The only way to piss you off is to treat you like a machine."

  "Or hurt Tassin."

  "Yeah, that's because for a whole year, the cyber forced you to protect her. It's become part of your conditioning."

  "No." Sabre stared into space, frowning. "It's not that. The cyber did prompt me, and punished me on occasion, but I wanted to help her. I was trapped by it, yeah, but I didn't mind so much.

  "Why is that?"

  He hesitated, looking a little embarrassed. "I thought she was beautiful, and... I wanted to stay with her, look after her."

  Tarl nodded. "I guess some basic instincts weren’t completely cut off by the brain block. You developed a stunted set of emotional responses in the year you were with her before, I would guess. When those memories were blocked off, you became a clean slate, as Myon Two intended. Although your memories have been restored, the emotional responses you d
eveloped haven't, so you're back to square one in that department. But, given enough time, you will develop them again. You need another year or so of uncomplicated human interaction. You have a massive inferiority complex, and you're suffering from post-traumatic stress."

  "Great." Sabre sighed. "Is there any hang up I don't have?"

  "What do you think you'd feel if I died?"

  "I don't know. Sad?"

  "That's what you should feel, yeah. But you're just guessing, aren't you? You can't actually imagine feeling sad about my death."

  "Not really. Maybe I'd feel it, though, if it happened. I could always kill you and find out."

  Tarl chuckled. "Yeah, right. You hate killing, remember? Why is that?"

  "It's... something I was forced to do. It's what I was designed to do, and... I don't want to hurt people. I never did."

  Tarl placed a hand on Sabre's shoulder. "That's because you're a good guy, bud. No amount of conditioning or programming can ever change your personality."

  Sabre rose and went to the door, glancing back before opening it. "Thanks."

  The tech smiled and waved a depreciating hand. He leant back, then realised that the stool had no back, grabbed the trolley as he fell and landed with a grunt and a shrill clatter of instruments. Sabre chuckled and left the cyber-tech to pick himself up out of the debris.

  Sabre pushed open the door to his room and froze as an alien life sign appeared on the scanners, sweeping the room with his eyes. A strange grey lump lay in the middle of the bed, and he approached it, trying to make out what it was. A pointed-eared head lifted, and yellow eyes gazed up at him from a black bandit's mask.

  Sabre grinned. "Purr!"

  The mosscat stretched, revealing pointed teeth in a strange grin, and his disembodied voice spoke from the air before him. "Friend Sabre. It's about time you returned."

  "It's great to see you, Purr. Where have you been hiding?"

  "In the forest, for the last three years."

  Sabre sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you well?"

  "I'm fine. I was getting fat, anyway. This land is easy to live in for me."

  "Yeah, a Death Zone creature would find it easy."

  Purr sat up and groomed his belly fur. "I had a feeling Tassin would find you. She doesn't give up, that one. She ransacked this castle for three years, looking for that sword."

  "Yeah, she was pissed off with me for hiding it."

  "It's good that you're back. I'm glad."

  "Me too."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sabre kicked the empty laser cradle on the battlements and turned away with a curse. The tarpaulin that had covered it lay in a crumpled heap at his feet, where he had dropped it after tugging it off. Evidently Torrian, or Dellon, had left the cradles covered to give the impression that the castle was still armed. Tassin’s guard sergeant had informed her of the weapons’ removal shortly after her return, and she had told Sabre about it at breakfast that morning, a day after Tarl had repaired the damage to the cyber’s shoulder.

  The ammunition was also gone, along with the soldiers he had trained, and he knew everything now resided at Torrian’s castle, where the laser cannons were doubtless installed. It came as no surprise, but it complicated matters. Tassin was once more vulnerable, and Torrian now held all the power, his fortress impregnable and his army undefeatable. Sabre had no doubt the King would start a new war as soon as he was returned to his kingdom, and, armed with the laser cannons, he would win it in a few hours. Sabre leant on the rampart and gazed across the forest, pondering. He would have to go to Torrian’s fortress and disable the weapons, since they were too heavy to steal from under an army’s nose.

  Torrian would also have to die now. He was a vindictive man who would want revenge, and, having once owned such powerful weapons, he would not rest until he had more. Now that the Death Zone was gone, crossing the Badlands to find more would be fairly easy. Some men would still die from radiation poisoning, but Torrian would get what he wanted in the end. He straightened and turned at the sound of footsteps. Tassin approached, her eyes skipping off the empty cradle to meet his with deep sorrow in their depths. She looked lovely in one of her rich court gowns, this one a deep burgundy with salmon pink lace on the sleeves and skirt and a matching bodice hugging her tiny waist. Her hair was swept up in a simple, elegant coil, and a delicate emerald necklace nestled in the hollow of her throat.

  She came to him and slipped her hand into his. “I suppose we should have expected this to happen.”

  “Oh, I did. Torrian would never leave such powerful weapons in the hands of a lesser king, especially a dolt like Dellon. All he’s done is signed his own death warrant, though. I guess he didn’t expect you to return, or me, for that matter. It’s a pity he didn’t blow his own head off while he was learning how to use them, but I guess that would be too much to hope for. This means I’ll have to kill him as soon as he returns to his kingdom.”

  "How will you do it?" she asked.

  “I’ll snipe him. It will be quicker and more merciful than he deserves, but no one will see me. I’ll also have to disable those laser cannons, or whatever shithead cousin inherits might be just as gung-ho with them as Torrian. We won’t be safe as long as they’re in enemy hands.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “That will be dangerous.”

  “Not all that dangerous, for me.” He smiled. “He may have got his hands on modern weapons that can be used against us, but you have the best weapon of all.”

  “What?”

  “Me.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “You’re not –”

  “Yeah, I am. It’s okay, really. Tarl’s right, this is what I do. It’s what I am, and I’m good at it. With me on your side, you’ve got no worries. I have one huge advantage over all other weapons, too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I can’t be turned against you.”

  She looked down at his hand, biting her lip. “I really don’t want you to have to do this, Sabre.”

  “I know. I must, though, and you know it.”

  “Yes. I wish it was different. To me, you’re the man I love, not a weapon. I don’t care what you or Tarl say. I will never think of you like that.”

  “Hey.” He cupped her chin with his free hand and raised her head to gaze into her eyes. “I know that. It’s just one of the many reasons I love you, and I want to do this for you – for us. I have a stake in our future, too, you know.”

  She nodded. “Yes, you do. I hope that makes it easier for you.”

  “Hell, this isn’t a hard mission. Piece of cake, in fact. There’s no way a bunch of primitives, even armed with modern weapons, which I bet they can barely use, can hope to win against a cyber, or even be a threat. I won’t get a scratch, I guarantee it.”

  “Normally I would object to being called a primitive, but I won’t argue with you on that point today.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “You’re not quite a cave woman, but you do have some pretty hairy attributes.”

  She giggled. “Like what?”

  “Like being the most diabolically determined female in the universe, luckily for me, and a warrior queen, of course. And you’re not coming with me.”

  “I know.” Tassin stepped closer and slipped her arms around him. “I wish I could, but I’m needed here, so you’ll have to manage alone. Or take some men.”

  He hugged her. “No, I don’t need any help; they’ll only get in the way.”

  “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, inhaling the warm clean scent of her hair, which reminded him of roses. “That’s like telling a shark to be careful in a pond full of minnows. This will be like child’s play to me, so don’t worry, okay? I’d offer to bring you his head, but I intend to blow it into a red mist.”

  She shuddered. “I don’t want his head. I just want an end to strife, and with Torrian, this is the only way, I think.”

  “Yeah, I should have k
illed him last time I was here, then he wouldn’t have been able to hurt Dena and put that little shit, Dellon, on your throne. It’s time to end him.”

  She managed a smile, although it was clearly forced. "If you’re suspected of it, it will start a war with Pradish, because I won’t hand you over for execution.”

  “Even if you did, they’d have a hell of a job trying to chop off my head.”

  “If you think I will even let them try, you’re very much mistaken. If his investigators accuse you, I’ll give you an alibi, but unfortunately I have the greatest motive for wanting him dead, other than Dena, and no one else knows what he did to her.”

  “I doubt they’ll accuse me,” he said. “They won’t be able to prove anything, even if they do, so tell them I went exploring or something.”

  “Unfortunately, it will throw Pradish into chaos, since he has no heir. His cousins will vie for the throne.”

  “Good. It will keep them busy. If it causes too much shit, they should hold elections and become a democracy. It’s time Omega Five modernised, since it will soon be rejoining the rest of civilised society. I’m sure a thriving tourist trade will spring up, for people who want a taste of medieval culture.”

  She drew back to look up at him. “What about Arlin? Do you think it should also be democratic?”

  “Hey, Arlin’s got a great queen, but, in all honesty, I’d rather you weren’t one. I’d much rather live in a comfy little cottage, not a big draughty castle, and think how much more time we’d have to spend together if you weren’t busy all day with affairs of state?”

  “That’s true. I’ve never considered the option of stepping down. I was born to my post, and giving it up is hard to contemplate, especially after we fought so hard to regain it. There is something to be said of anonymity and a simple life, though. Running a kingdom is hard work.”

  “You should give it some serious thought,” he said. “We had to get rid of Dellon, so it was still worth it. I’d give up being a cyber in a heartbeat if I could, and I was born to my post, too. Be glad you have the option.”

  “I am. I will think about it.”

  ****