The Cyber Chronicles V - Overlord

by T C Southwell

  "If he's unconscious, who's been killing the Corsairs?"

  "Possibly the other man; the ex-technician."

  Fairen shook his head. "I doubt that. Whoever it is, he's a crack shot."

  "This is certainly entertaining." Ramadaus sipped his drink, smiling.

  Ravian looked at him. "Perhaps you should make it more interesting, and send a couple of your cybers to help them."

  "Why would I risk my expensive equipment to help a bunch of worthless civilians?"

  "Because they're the people we're sworn to protect?"

  "Too few to be worth bothering about. Besides, why would I save that...” He hesitated, glancing at Fairen. "Cyber? I want him dead."

  Fairen gazed at the screen again. "He's better than your cybers. He doesn't need their help."

  "How is he better?"

  "He's a man, not a machine. He's driven by his emotions, not because he's been ordered to do it. He'll push himself beyond his limits to save that girl. I don't think he's unconscious at all, although he probably should be."

  Ramadaus shook his head. "That shows how little you know about cybers. They will go far beyond their limits if the situation calls for it, and they'll keep going until they die. Injuries don't slow them. They will fight on with broken limbs until they're dead."

  "And that doesn't strike you as barbaric?" Ravian enquired.

  "They're machines."

  "You know as well as we do that they're men."

  "They have human bodies, that's all."

  Fairen’s heart sank as he watched the screen, where the five purple dots had almost reached the shuttle ahead of the group of people. "They're not going to make it," he said. "I wish I could help them. If they would just stay still..."

  "You could save one, perhaps two, and the rest would die,” Ramadaus said. “We don't have limitless power. Your meeting with a Corsair should have taught you something about that. What was it like to be at his mercy?"

  "Foul."

  ****

  "They've reached the shuttle." Sabre bowed his head and retched again, this time bringing up a little bile.

  "What do you want to do?"

  "Keep going. There are four more behind us."

  "You can't take on five Corsairs in your condition."

  "Do I have a choice?"

  Tarl shook his head, scowling. "I guess not. What's your bio-status?"

  "You don't want to know."

  "Yeah, I do, actually."

  "Thirty-two per cent."

  "Bugger me. That's impossible."

  "For a cyber." Sabre raised his head. "Stop at the corner. The docking port is just past it."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Three are guarding the door; the other two are inside, probably trying to figure out the controls." He retched again. "Corsairs are warriors; they can't resist a challenge. If I kill the three outside, the other two will come out to fight."

  "What about the four behind us?"

  "They're still two hundred metres away."

  Tarl stopped beside the corner, where Sabre sank to the floor and closed his eyes. Tarl squatted next to him as the women moved away.

  "You could pass out at any moment."

  "Then you'll have to do it."

  "Right. Don't pass out."

  Sabre doubled over and gulped. "I have a few more minutes. Whatever happens, stay here."

  "Right."

  The cyber put down his lasers and pulled off his steel mesh gloves, flexing his hands. "They've got a scanner. They know we're here."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because they're coming. Hang onto Tassin for me."

  "Okay."

  Sabre picked up the lasers and checked the charges. One was at a quarter, the other almost empty. "Bugger."

  Tarl moved back along the wall to a tense looking Tassin and gripped her arm. She frowned at him and tried to jerk free, but he held on, wagging a finger at her. Sabre edged along the wall until he was right at the corner and raised his weapons.

  Tassin held her breath while he waited, her heart pounding. It leapt into her throat when Sabre dropped and rolled out into the open, firing. A single pop came from around the corner. Sabre grunted, fired a final shot, and then slumped. Tassin gasped and tried to jump up, but Tarl's iron grip held her down.

  "Let me go!" she said. "He's hurt!"

  "Maybe, but he told me to keep you here."

  "Not if he's hurt! He needs help!"

  "There are two more Corsairs on the shuttle. Do you want to die?"

  Tassin tried to pry his fingers off her arm. "If he dies, so do we!"

  "I think he's playing dead."

  "I think he's passed out! Let me go!"

  "Wait." Tarl drew his laser from his pocket. "They've got to come into sight to reach him."

  Tassin gazed at Sabre, horrified by the red stain that spread over his shin. "He's been hit."

  "I know. Stay still and shut up."

  A shadow fell on Sabre, then two Corsairs came into view, approaching him warily, their weapons trained on him. They snarled and hissed, moving closer. One prodded Sabre with his foot. The cyber rolled over, jerked up his lasers and fired two shots. The aliens collapsed, one writhing and raising his weapon. Sabre fired again, but only a dim red beam hit the wounded Corsair, who aimed at Sabre's chest. The cyber leapt up and charged the Corsair. Kicking the weapon from his fist, Sabre gripped his head and twisted. The alien's neck snapped with a dull crack, and Sabre dropped the body. Crouching, he used the Corsair's tunic to rub the red stain on his shin.

  Tarl jumped up and ran to him. "We need water. Get on the shuttle!"

  Sabre tried to rise to his feet, but his knees buckled. Tarl stuffed his laser into his pocket and picked Sabre up. Staggering through the docking port, he dumped the cyber on a chair and turned as the women ran into the shuttle. Four Corsairs came into view, firing. Missiles hit the edge of the docking port with dull pings. A few flew past to hit the opposite side of the shuttle, and a woman screamed and staggered.

  Tarl dashed back to the door and tapped the access panel, cursing. "I don't know the bloody code!" The door slid shut with a soft hiss, and Tarl stared at it in disbelief. "I didn't do that."

  "Help me!" Tassin shouted, kneeling at Sabre's feet. "I need water! Quick!"

  Tarl swung around. "Where's the bathroom, or kitchen?"

  "I don't know!"

  The woman who had been hit writhed and jerked on the floor, foaming at the mouth. Tarl jumped over her and vanished through a door, returning a moment later with a cup of water. Tassin snatched it from him and poured it on Sabre's leg, a red pool forming around his foot. He groaned, and the lasers fell from his lax hands.

  "Sabre!" Tassin rose and bent over him, fumbling with the helmet's clasps. "How do you get this damned thing off?"

  "Let me." Tarl unclipped it and pulled it off.

  Sabre's eyes were closed, and sweat sheened his unnaturally pale skin. She patted his cheek, her brow creased with worry.

  "He's out," Tarl muttered. "Let's get the hell out of here. I hope I can fly this thing."

  Tassin staggered as the shuttle jerked, turning to Tarl in alarm.

  He looked puzzled. "We're undocking."

  "Who's doing it?"

  "It must be remote control. They're recalling it from Fairen's ship."

  "Good." Tassin turned back to Sabre. "Can you help him?"

  Tarl sank down on a chair, shaking his head. "I don't have any drugs. We'll have to wait until we get to Fairen's ship."

  Tassin sat beside Sabre, holding his hand. "He'll be all right?"

  "Yeah."

  She found a cloth and wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing at the surviving women. "Four out of fifteen."

  "We're lucky to be alive," Tarl said.

  ****

  Fairen turned to Ramadaus, smiling. "They made it."

  Ramadaus inclined his head and raised his glass. "Good for them. You intend to bring them on board?"

 
"Yes. They may need medical attention."

  "Are you a rescue ship now?"

  "I do as I please."

  "Indeed you do."

  Ravian's com-link beeped, and she pulled it from the hidden pocket in her robe. "Yes, Commander?"

  "The ship you ordered here has arrived."

  "Tell them to wait."

  "Yes, My Lord."

  Fairen headed for the door. "I'm going to see if Sabre's all right."

  "Are you going to sit at his bedside and mop his brow?" Ramadaus sniped.

  Fairen swung around, opening his mouth to retort, and Ravian raised her hands. "Enough, Ramadaus. Go, Fairen, I will join you soon."

  The boy shot Ramadaus a final glare and marched out, his guards hurrying after him. Ravian turned to Ramadaus and sank down on the couch beside him.

  "He's young, be patient with him."

  "He's making a fool of himself, and a mockery of us."

  "Rubbish. There's nothing wrong with showing compassion. Have you forgotten that he's only fourteen years old?"

  Ramadaus sighed and sipped his drink. "He shouldn't have been made an Overlord at such a young age."

  "But he is one, and we must respect that. Don't forget his wild tendencies. It's not a good idea to anger him."

  "How could I forget his wild tendencies when we've just had such a wonderful example of them? As for angering him, must we all tip-toe around him for fear of him throwing a tantrum?"

  She smiled. "Considering the power he wields, I would say yes. He's found a real live hero, and for a lonely boy, that's a big deal. He's never known his father, and for ten years he's lived the life of an Overlord, alone, protected and obeyed, but with no friends; no one to look up to. I think Sabre will be a very good influence on him if he stays a little while. All of us will be better off if Fairen learns a little self-control. Perhaps then he won't lash out and destroy entire worlds because one of their inhabitants angered him."

  "I disagree. Becoming attached to a psychopath will make him worse. In his gratitude and hero worship, he may grant that abomination's wish and decree the end of all cybers."

  Ravian considered that. "No, I don't think so. For all his wild tendencies, Fairen is a champion of the law; he's been studying it for most of his life. His lack of a mentor has meant that the database has been his only source of knowledge. He won't go against its teachings."

  "Do you really believe he would deny a request from the thing that saved his life?"

  "Yes, I do. At worst, he will judge Atrashka and base his decision on that, but he won't do something so drastic just because Sabre asks him to."

  "I hope you're right."

  ****

  The shuttle doors slid open, and several white-suited men rushed in and herded the women out. Black-uniformed guards hustled them away as the men came to Sabre's side and examined him. Convulsions racked the cyber, who writhed and twitched, his breath coming in stertorous gasps.

  Tarl pulled a doctor aside. "I need premine, diazolan and tremilin in large doses. Do you have it?"

  The man nodded. "Who are you?"

  "A cyber technician. I can help him if you get me those drugs."

  The doctor turned to his helpers. "Get him on the floater and take him to the hospital. Order those drugs immediately."

  "He was shot in the leg," Tassin said.

  Tarl nodded. "That needs a promelix compress to neutralise the acid. We washed it off with water, but -"

  "We know what to do," the doctor said a little testily.

  "No, you don't," Tarl snapped. "He's a cyber. He reacts to certain DNA-activating medications."

  "We don't use DNA-activating -"

  "Exactly. I need to use your lab to manufacture some."

  The doctor frowned. "What for?"

  "He's in shock from a double dose of Corsair venom, and his system is severely depleted." Tarl followed the floating bed, which the medics guided down a corridor. "His last bio-status was only thirty-two per cent. I don't know what it is now, but it can only be worse. At twenty-five per cent his organs will start to fail. I have to give him DNA-activating drugs to stimulate his inactive regeneration genes to counter the cumulative effect of the venom, which has been increased by a second dose during the post-convulsive phase of the first."

  The doctor looked dazed, and Tassin sympathised, finding Tarl's spiel to be sheer gibberish.

  "Could he die?"

  "No, but without immediate supportive treatment his system will be permanently damaged."

  The doctor nodded. "You'll have access to our lab, of course. Overlord Fairen has ordered the best possible treatment for him."

  "Do you have any equipment that can be used to interface with the control unit?"

  "I'll order the techs to rig something up for you."

  "I need that as soon as possible."

  They entered a long white room lined with cubicles that housed strange, gleaming equipment, each with a sliding partition that could be closed for privacy. The floor resembled a sheet of white glass, as spotlessly clean as the sleek walls and ultra-modern equipment. More white-suited people, many of whom wore masks and strange instruments on their faces, strode about on mysterious errands. Another floating bed occupied a cubicle, and a man lay upon it, two white-suited medics attending him. Tassin wrinkled her nose at the odd, astringent smell. The atmosphere was hushed, and, as they followed Sabre's floating transport into a cubicle, she spied the reason for it. An Overlord waited for them, his arms folded and veils concealing his face. She wondered if it was Ravian, but he looked smaller.

  Tarl hesitated when he saw him, then continued to issue orders to the doctor who walked at his side. As soon as the floating stretcher stopped, the medics pushed needles into Sabre's wrists and set up bags of clear fluid, attaching them with tubes. They wheeled a squat machine with a flat screen on top of it to his bedside and stuck sensors to his chest and neck. The screen came to life, showing a jagged line, and a rapid beeping came from it.

  A medic said, "Heart rate, a hundred and forty, blood pressure, one forty over one twenty. Temperature... one hundred and twelve."

  Tarl nodded. "He's okay."

  The doctor turned to frown at him. "He should be dead."

  "He's a cyber."

  Sabre's back arched, and his lips pulled back in a grimace. Tremors ran through him, causing his arms to hammer on the steel surface.

  "I need that tremilin, now!" Tarl said.

  Another medic handed him a syringe and a vial, and he injected the side of Sabre's neck.

  The doctor looked shocked. "You sure you know what you're doing? That's enough to kill a man."

  "Yeah, I know. Give me the premine."

  Tassin moved out of the way as a medic brushed past her to hand Tarl another syringe and phial, which he filled and injected into Sabre's leg. Tarl administered a third injection into Sabre's drip, then glanced up at the monitor.

  "Heart rate, one hundred and eighty, blood pressure, one fifty over one forty, temperature, one hundred and ten," a medic intoned.

  "He's getting worse," the doctor who stood beside Tarl commented.

  "No, he's starting to fight back."

  "We did none of this the last time he was exposed to the venom, just treated the skin lesions and gave him fluids."

  Tarl nodded. "Which was sufficient for one dose, but two full-strength doses, so close together, are bad even for him. The first dose will have done some harm, and I'm trying to undo that as well. Where's that cyber interface equipment?"

  "It should be here shortly."

  "Okay, I need a centrifuge, and venterin, cybertope and pentramil extract, preferably double strength."

  "My medics will see to it." The doctor nodded to one of his cohorts, who hurried off.

  The medic who watched the monitor said, "Sir, his vitals are going off the scale. Heart rate is up to one ninety and climbing. Blood pressure is almost two hundred over one eighty."

  Tarl nodded. "That's great. He's reacting well."
/>
  Sabre's convulsions had lessened to periodic shudders, and he panted, sweat pouring off him.

  The doctor shot Tarl a scandalised look. "Just how much can he take?"

  "Oh, a lot more than this. His heart is designed to cruise at two hundred and forty during combat; his blood pressure is normal at one thirty over one twenty, but can reach two sixty over two twenty at peak performance, and he can withstand three hundred over two sixty easily; his blood vessels are genetically enhanced to handle it."

  "What's his normal temperature?"

  Tarl shrugged. "He doesn't really have one. The cyber regulates it according to conditions, but I suppose you could say, in normal conditions at a comfortable room temperature, and at rest, it's the same as ours. But he can run very hot, as much as a hundred and twenty. During tests..." He glanced at Tassin and turned away. "He's fine."

  Two men entered the cubicle pushing a strange machine with a screen and a clump of wires. Tarl grabbed it with a glad cry, sorted through the wires to find the one he needed and pushed it into the slot on the side of the brow band. He switched the machine on, and an intricate blue, white and grey dashboard appeared, with a man-shaped logo and ‘Cybercorp Combat Genetics’ emblazoned across the top in a sleek font. At the centre of the screen, a data-capture block flashed next to a line of writing, which read 'technical access code entry'.

  Tarl glanced up. "What's the exact time at Cybercorp on Myon Two?"

  One of the technicians who had brought the equipment tapped a com-link. "Fourteen fifty-two."

  "Fourteen fifty-two," Tarl muttered, rubbing his hair into disarray. "What the hell is the code? Fourteen fifty to fourteen fifty-five... Think, dammit." He swung around and tapped on the keyboard. The block flashed red, and the writing changed to 'code invalid'. Tarl swore and rubbed his head again, scowling, then tapped in another password. Again the block flashed red, and he cursed. "Have they changed the bloody codes?"

  Swinging away, he paced in a circle, then demanded, "Time at Cybercorp?"

  The technician consulted his com-link again. "Fourteen fifty-seven."