The Cyber Chronicles VI - Warrior Breed

by T C Southwell

  "No, the female ward is with him."

  Atrel frowned. "How dare you -?"

  "No, it's not like that. We've been watching him. He's doing training exercises."

  Atrel pressed a key and studied the picture that formed on the screen. The young warrior watched over his shoulder, and other officers gathered around. Noticing the audience, Atrel routed the image to the main screen, and everyone turned to watch.

  Atrel folded his arms. "This is not training. It's just a fitness routine."

  An officer winced as Sabre did the splits. "A painful one, by the looks of it. How does that enhance his fighting abilities?"

  Atrel shrugged. "You'd have to ask him that."

  ****

  Sabre sat up and crossed his legs, then glanced around at Tassin. "Come here."

  She wandered over to him. "What is it?"

  "There are no weights here. I could use your help."

  "What should I do?"

  Sabre stretched forward and straightened his legs until his entire body was supported on his hands and toes. "Sit on my back."

  After a momentary hesitation, Tassin seated herself in a ladylike manner.

  "Lift up your legs too," he said.

  She tucked her legs up beside her, wobbled a bit and clung to his shoulders.

  "That's it," he murmured. "Now don't fall off."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Nothing dramatic, just hold on."

  Tassin leant forward and wound her arms around his neck, glad of a reason to be close to him, and unable to resist planting a kiss on the side of his brow. He smiled, shifted his weight and lifted one hand off the floor, holding it at his side. Tassin giggled with amazement as he slowly lowered himself until his nose almost touched the floor, then raised himself again. He did it ten times, then ten more using the other arm, his skin growing warm. Switching arms again, he continued at a faster speed.

  "You're not heavy enough," he remarked.

  "How much can you lift like this?"

  "About four times what you weight."

  "And how many times can you do it?"

  He grunted. "Too many. It would get very boring."

  "Perhaps you should ask Atrel to send a few strapping warriors to stand on your back for you."

  "Nah, I don't really want them to know too much."

  Tassin tapped her fingers on his shoulder. "Can you still do it if I tickle you?"

  "Tickle?"

  "You don't know what tickling is?"

  "No, never heard of it."

  "Then you don't know if you're ticklish."

  "Nope."

  Tassin waited until he lowered himself again, and then tickled his ribs. Sabre's chest hit the floor with a thud, and she fell off, giggling. He rolled onto his back, held his ribs and chuckled.

  "That was... interesting."

  "So, you're ticklish." She sat up and grinned.

  "So it would seem."

  "I'll remember that."

  "Fiendish woman."

  Tassin brushed back her hair. "Show me what you can really do."

  He rolled onto his side and supported himself on one elbow. "What do you mean?"

  "Amaze me."

  "Amaze you. How can I do that?"

  "Impress me, then."

  His brows rose. "Ah."

  "Wouldn't you like to impress your bride-to-be? Show off a little?"

  He smiled. "I haven't asked you yet."

  "A mere formality. We both know you will."

  "Do we?"

  "Stop teasing, or I'll tickle you to death."

  "Okay. What would you like me to do?"

  She pondered. "How high can you jump?"

  "About four metres."

  "Show me."

  He glanced up. "The ceiling's only about three and a half metres high."

  "All right, show me something else."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know, anything. What about those acrobatic moves you do when you're fighting?"

  "Okay." He rose and held out his hand, helping her to her feet. "Go stand by the wall."

  Tassin obeyed, and he took up a stance on one side of the room, legs together this time. Raising his arms above his head, he took a few running steps and performed a series of handsprings, each one higher than the last, twisting at the apex of the last two somersaults, his legs and arms held straight. Tassin's mouth fell open as he reached the wall and ran up it almost to the ceiling. He kicked himself away, performed a backward somersault and landed on his feet. He continued with a series of backward handsprings, then bounced back into a forward handspring. Tassin closed her mouth when he stopped and straightened, resisting the urge to applaud.

  "How was that?"

  She nodded. "Impressive."

  "Really?" He grinned, looking as pleased as a schoolboy who had just scored a goal in a game of knee-ball.

  "Do some more."

  Sabre spread his arms and dropped sideways into a cartwheel, stopped in a handstand and brought his legs together. Lowering himself until his head brushed the floor, he pushed himself up with his arms, performed a jack-knife and landed on his feet, then dropped into a forward roll. Landing on his back and catching himself with his feet, he raised his legs and flung them forward, performing the peculiar twist that brought him upright with an ease that defied gravity.

  Tassin could not resist clapping this time, and his delighted grin filled her with happiness and pride to see him so pleased with her appreciation of the abilities the torturers on Myon Two had so painfully bestowed upon him.

  He performed a sweeping bow. "You're easily amused, My Lady."

  "Not in the least, My Lord, you are truly a wonder to behold."

  Sabre raised his arms and dived into a forward handspring, landing on his feet mere centimetres from her. His breathing was normal, and as yet he had not even broken a sweat. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it.

  "I am yours to command, My Queen."

  "Spar with me."

  His brows almost vanished under the brow band. "With you? You're kidding."

  "No. I'm a trained sword fighter, remember?"

  "I don't doubt it, but -"

  "Are you afraid you'll hurt me?" she asked.

  "No, I'm afraid you'll hurt yourself."

  She pulled her hand from his and folded her arms. "I'm insulted. Didn’t you just say you were mine to command?"

  "Yeah, but..." He glanced at the weapons on the walls. "Those things are sharp, you know."

  "I know."

  He tilted his head, smiling. "Unarmed combat?"

  She snorted, raising her chin. "You're stronger than me. That wouldn't be fair."

  "And you think it would be fair if we had swords?"

  "Fairer."

  His smile widened. "No, it wouldn't. I'll teach you how to defend yourself. Would you like that?"

  "I know how to defend myself."

  "Okay. Show me."

  "You'll have to attack me."

  Sabre pulled a wry face and held out his hand. "Okay, come." He led her into the centre of the room and released her, looking amused. "Right, so you're the Queen of Arlin, walking home from the pub after a night on the town, and I'm a villain."

  "The queens of Arlin don't go to pubs."

  "Okay, you're a scullery maid walking home from a pub after a night on the town."

  She folded her arms. "I'm not a scullery maid."

  "What are you then?"

  "A rich lord, with a heavy purse."

  "You're a woman. How can you be a lord?"

  "This is make-believe, isn't it?"

  He smiled again. "All right, a rich lord you are. Walk."

  Tassin turned and wandered across the combat room, her stomach tight with anticipation, her palms damp and her heart pounding. The prospect of pitting her puny skills against a cyber exhilarated her, and even though she knew she had no chance of winning, she wanted to show him that she could defend herself, at least against a
normal man.

  A light touch on her right arm made her swing around, fists raised. An arm swept around her waist from the other side, then she was on her back, her head cushioned by Sabre's hand. He straddled her, and his hands flashed across to grab her wrists and pin them to the floor beside her head before she could recover from her surprise.

  He smiled down at her. "Your purse is forfeit, My Lord."

  "That wasn't fair!"

  "You expected it to be?"

  "You tricked me!"

  He cocked his head, chuckling. "Okay. Let's do it again, and this time I won't distract you."

  Sabre stood up, pulling her to her feet. She tossed back her hair and walked away. This time there was no warning at all, but the end result was identical.

  She glared up at him. "Perhaps this isn't the best scenario."

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "It's no good if you sneak up on me from behind like that. Come at me from the front."

  "Ah. Okay."

  Sabre got up and pulled her to her feet again, and she brushed imaginary dust from her sleeve. He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with gentleness that made her heart ache.

  "Ready?"

  She nodded, raising her hands, then found herself on her back again with Sabre straddling her, pinning her wrists beside her head.

  "How was that?"

  "Very funny. You moved too fast."

  He laughed. "So you want me to move slow enough so you can hit me?"

  "I thought you were teaching me how to defend myself?"

  "No, you were showing me you can."

  "Okay, maybe not against you."

  Sabre jumped up and pulled her to her feet. "Maybe not, my little warrior queen."

  "You have a slight advantage."

  "Just a little one." He held up two fingers, about a centimetre apart.

  "You didn't give me a chance!"

  "Okay, I'll give you a chance. Hit me."

  "No. I don't want to hurt you."

  He chuckled. "You won't, I promise."

  "Of course I will, if I hit you."

  He took her hand. "Your hand is too fragile to even give me a bruise. You would break your bones before you did."

  "So I can't hurt you at all?"

  "No, you could, if you hit me in the right place, but do you know where those places are?"

  "I know of one, on a man."

  He nodded. "I think every woman knows that one. But there are a few others. Men tend to protect themselves well in that area, unless taken by surprise."

  "What are the others?"

  "Eyes, ears, nose and throat. Poke out a man's eyes, and it'll certainly stop him. Slap his ears and you'll burst his ear drums. Hit him upwards on the point of his nose, and you might kill him. Punch him in the throat hard enough and he'll die too."

  "Do any of those work on you?"

  "Not really,” he said. “Eyes and ears will work now, but it won't kill me. They don't work on a cyber because it doesn't use the host's eyes and ears."

  "What about the other one?"

  "That would work on me now, if you could get past my defences, but it wouldn't work on a cyber."

  "A dagger in the eye would kill a cyber, wouldn't it?" He nodded, and she asked, "So why did the people on Myon Two allow such vulnerabilities in otherwise almost impenetrable armour?"

  "Consumer demand. It seems people disliked eyeless cybers. They were aesthetically displeasing."

  "So they did make some like that."

  "Yes, the X series. Their eyes and ears were covered with armour. Myon Two produced ten of them, but sold only two. The others are still in cold sleep. No one wanted them."

  Tassin shuddered. "Let's not talk about that. My arms' master taught me a trick with bending fingers. Is that a good ploy?"

  "It causes a lot of pain, so yes, it would work on a normal man, until he punched you with his other hand."

  "But it wouldn't work on you, I suppose?" she asked.

  "No. I'm too strong. Do you want very badly to find something that will work on me, or do you just want to ensure that nothing will?"

  "The latter."

  "Then you have no cause for concern. Only another A-grade cyber would stand a chance against me in unarmed combat. But with weapons, I can be killed, you know that."

  "I'm glad you're on my side." She hesitated. "Why did you decide to exercise today? Are you just bored, or is there another reason?"

  "Mostly bored. I'm genetically programmed to stay fit. I can't get fat, and even if I did nothing for many years, I'll retain my strength."

  The door slid open, and Tarl entered, frowning. "Do you know that every Trykon on this ship is glued to a monitor, watching you bouncing off the walls?"

  Sabre's brows drew together. "No, I didn't."

  "Well, they are."

  Sabre shrugged. "Ah well, the damage is done, I suppose. They wanted to see some tricks, so I guess they've been entertained today. I haven't done much."

  "But you should stop now."

  "Actually, I'm in the mood to do more now. Come spar with me."

  Tarl shook his head. "No way. Do I have 'idiot' tattooed across my forehead?"

  "No, actually it says 'pain in the butt'."

  "I'm not letting you use me as a punching bag."

  "I won't hit you."

  "You don't have to. I'm not stupid enough to spar with a bloody cyber."

  Sabre bounced, raising his fists in a mocking parody of an old-fashioned pugilist’s stance. "Come on, don't be a sissy. Don’t you want to be my friend?"

  The ex-cyber tech eyed Sabre. "I never thought I'd see a cyber showing off."

  Sabre bounced closer and made a few playful jabs at Tarl, who stepped back, looking wary.

  "Come on, hit me," Sabre urged.

  "Don't be daft. You know I couldn't."

  "Try."

  Tassin went over to the wall and selected a short staff, handing it to Tarl. "Try using this."

  Sabre stopped and raised his brows at her. "Whose side are you on?"

  Tarl shook his head. "I'm not sparring with him."

  "Why not?"

  "Because one of us will get hurt."

  Sabre snorted. "Don't you trust me? I didn't hurt Tassin."

  Tarl handed the staff back to Tassin. "You spar with him, then."

  "Okay." Tassin hefted the staff, grinning.

  "No." Sabre shook his head. "Tarl, don't be bloody ridiculous. I'm not sparring with her."

  Tassin raised her chin. "Why not?"

  "Because you'll hurt yourself with that thing." He held out his hand. "Give it to me."

  "No." Tassin lifted the staff and twirled it. "I've been trained in staff fighting. I'm quite capable of using this."

  Sabre stepped towards her. "Give it to me."

  She assumed a fighting stance and brandished the staff, jabbing the end towards Sabre's gut. He stopped out of range and shook his head. "Tarl, take it away from her."

  "You take it away from her."

  Tassin stepped forward and swung the staff at Sabre's head just as the door slid open. Instead of avoiding it, as she expected him to, he looked around, and it hit him on the back of the skull with a sharp crack. Tassin gave a gasp of dismay and dropped the weapon with a clatter, raising her hands to her mouth. Sabre shot her a rueful glance and rubbed the back of his head, turning to the door again, which Atrel and several warriors filled. Atrel cast Tassin a shocked look, then faced Sabre.

  "We would be honoured to spar with you, Commander."

  "So you've been listening as well. Is there no privacy on this ship?"

  "Usually there is. I apologise. But perhaps it was fortunate, since your ward lacks the courage to spar with you. He is but a non-com, anyway."

  "Yeah, and the worst kind, too." Sabre put his hands on his hips and considered the group. "Okay. You, go to the centre of the room."

  A bald warrior grinned and strode forward, his cronies thumping him on the back as he pushed past them. Sabre pic
ked up the staff and followed, tossing it to the big man when he stopped.

  "Use this. When you've had enough, just say so." The warrior looked uncertain, glancing at Sabre's empty hands, and the cyber smiled. "Don't worry; you won't have it for long. What's your name?"

  "Diarmad."

  "Right, Diarmad, let's see what you can do."

  Diarmad twirled the staff and jumped at Sabre, swinging the weapon in a stroke that seemed impossible to avoid. Sabre's right hand flashed up, and the wood hit his palm with a crack. He wrenched it from Diarmad's hands with a quick twisting yank. Diarmad looked surprised, flexing his empty hands, which no doubt burnt from having a length of wood jerked through them. Sabre twirled the staff deftly, tossed and caught it a few times while Diarmad stood waiting, his eyes following the weapon. Tiring of the sport, Sabre tossed the weapon to Atrel and faced Diarmad again, the brow band sparkling. Tassin noticed that Sabre had chosen one of the least enhanced of the warriors. Diarmad had only a partly silver-plated skull.

  Sabre beckoned, inviting him to land a blow. The big warrior obliged with a round-house swing. Sabre ducked under it and landed a light blow on Diarmad's ribs.

  Tarl muttered, "One."

  Tassin glanced at him. "One what?"

  "I'm counting the number of times Sabre could have killed him."

  "Surely that would only have broken his ribs, even at full strength?"

  Tarl smiled. "Still you know so little about him. As he is now, in peak condition, he can punch right through a man's ribcage and rip out his heart."

  Tassin shuddered, returning her attention to the sparring match. Diarmad tried to punch Sabre, but missed again as the cyber swayed aside, then slapped the Trykon warrior’s cheek.

  "Two," Tarl murmured.

  Diarmad lashed out with a foot, but Sabre stepped back, grabbed the warrior's ankle and yanked it up, sending Diarmad crashing to the floor with a grunt. The Trykon rolled to his feet and faced his opponent again, raising his fists. This time he waited for Sabre to take the initiative. The cyber feinted to one side and struck from the other, landing another light blow on Diarmad's shoulder.

  "That should have been a neck blow," Tarl commented.

  Diarmad lunged at Sabre, and Tassin's heart fluttered as the big man's hands closed on the cyber's neck. Sabre dropped backwards, pulling Diarmad with him, planted his feet in Diarmad's midriff and kicked the Trykon onto his back. Diarmad jumped up and tried to punch Sabre. The cyber grabbed his arm, turned his back and threw Diarmad over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor again.