"We don't know how closely he's monitoring it, or how dedicated his staff is to the job."
"His men are utterly devoted to him,” she said. “They would have informed him."
"Then it makes no sense. Even if it was in space above us, Emral should be able to sense it."
"Is it on the same frequency?"
Tarl shook his head. "No, not exactly. It's a sideband frequency, very narrow and a bit higher."
Emral raised a finger. "No flashing, but whistling, I have sensed."
"Whistling?" Tassin glanced at him, then back at Tarl. "Could it be?"
He shrugged. "I have no idea what an Overlord beacon sounds like. I assumed it would beep. Maybe it whistles."
Tassin turned to Emral. "Can you show us where it is?"
"Of course, Majesty."
Tarl turned to the receiver and adjusted the frequency. The beeps from the diode faded, and moments later a soft hissing, whistling and blipping issued from it. "That's it. It's not just a beacon, it's a data stream!"
"A what?" Tassin shook her head. "Never mind, let's just find it."
"It's probably sending its exact co-ordinates," Tarl mused, listening to the data stream. "If only I could convert that to -"
"Tarl, come on!" Tassin looked back from the doorway, her demeanour impatient.
"Right." He snatched up the receiver and followed her and Emral out of the lab.
****
Estrelle stared at Jorran, struggling to hide her horror. "You're going to do what?"
He turned to her, looking irritated. "I'm going to make that bastard a vegetable. He's more trouble than he's worth, and without a functioning brain, not only will the cyber be able to control him again, there will be no more killing sprees. He'll stand still like a good boy for the demonstrations, too. It's the perfect solution. His mind is of no interest to us anyway. He's not going to co-operate, and to all intents and purposes, it's just the mind of a normal male, slightly warped, but not that unusual."
She swallowed, shooting a sidelong glance at Martis, who appeared to be trying very hard to think about nothing at all, his eyes blank. "How will you do it?"
"Psychotropic drugs. Pump him full of hallucinogens and psychotics, and in a few hours he'll be a drooling idiot. There are a few new ones that a cyber his age isn't immune to."
"But you don't know that the control unit will be able to take over, even then."
"Well that's your job, isn't it?" Jorran retorted. "I'm sick of all the precautions I have to take to deal with his psychopathic killer instincts. I can't mind-wipe or recondition him if the control unit can't override his mind, so this is the only option. Even if the control unit can't re-establish its dominance, at least he won't be dangerous. He might have to be carried around and strapped onto the frame for demonstrations, but he won't struggle or cry out."
"I see." Estrelle nodded, trying to look thoughtful. "Yes, that does solve some of the problems."
"Name a problem it doesn't solve."
"He'll atrophy. In a year or so, he won't look like much of a cyber anymore, and his heart will weaken and fail."
Jorran shrugged. "That's true, but we can exercise him artificially. I just need to keep him going until the new cybers are ready; a couple of years."
"Have you completed your research on the DNA splicing retrovirus?"
"Not yet, but it will work."
"If it doesn't, you won't have a prototype to show clients when he dies."
Jorran scowled at her. "I'll risk it. Rather that than have him get loose during a demonstration and kill our clients. I think that would be worse for our sales, don't you?"
"An anaesthetic would solve the problem, too. If he's unconscious he can't harm anyone."
"We can't guarantee he'll stay under it. He has the ability to counteract it quickly. He broke a shackle during the last demonstration, and those were duronium clamps."
"He was never in danger of getting loose."
Jorran's scowl deepened, and he raked her with hard eyes. "Are you going soft, Cyber Tech Estrelle?"
"Certainly not, Host Tech Jorran. I'm concerned about degrading and eventually destroying a valuable asset; one that Myon Two went to a great deal of trouble and took a considerable risk to acquire. Have you cleared this with management?"
"I don't answer to junior techs, and management will agree with me after his rampage through the centre."
"Only if they're not fully apprised of the potential for harm to the prototype."
Martis raised a finger. "For what it's worth, I agree with Cyber Tech Estrelle."
"It's worth bugger all," Jorran replied, clearly annoyed. "I'm now the head of this department, and it's my decision."
"We will lodge our protests with management," Estrelle said.
"You do that."
"Until they give their approval, you can't do it."
Jorran snorted. "He killed Vardin and Shenar. He's already proven that he's dangerous, if that was ever in doubt. As long as he's free of the control unit, he's always going to be dangerous. The risk of damaging him is countered by how much it will save, what with all the extra security and precautions necessary to ensure he never gets loose again."
"I would say the chances of that are pretty slim."
"I'm not interested in your opinions."
"Well I, for one, won't sign off on this until it has managerial approval, and neither will Martis. What do you say, Rond?" Estrelle turned to the older host researcher.
He shrugged and shook his head. "I don't like the idea, but neither do I like the prospect of him going on another killing spree."
Estrelle frowned, turning back to Jorran. "You need all of us to approve, and we don't."
"I'll get managerial approval. That bastard's going to dribbling onto a bib and playing with his toes by the end of the week, mark my words."
Jorran marched out, his back stiff with anger, and Estrelle chewed her lip.
Martis muttered, "At least he won't suffer anymore."
She shot him a hard look. "We're not concerned about a host's pain."
"No, of course not, but he won't struggle or cry out then."
"He probably won't if he's a vegetable, either."
"Right."
****
The next day, Estrelle looked up from the control unit she was working on as her monitor beeped, informing her of an incoming message. She touched her keypad to display it, her heart sinking as she scanned the brief missive. Jorran wanted her to attend an experiment on the free cyber, so she could observe the control unit. The time he specified barely gave her ten minutes to reach the testing lab. Putting aside her work, she snatched up her data-wand and headed for the door.
In the testing lab, she found Martis and Rond already waiting. Sabre was stretched out on the metal table to which he was always bound, which had been moved from the tiny security cell into the main lab. The cyber's eyes were closed, but the ridged muscles of his jaw and belly betrayed his tension. Jorran looked around when she walked in, his expression irritated.
"We've been waiting for you, Cyber Tech."
"I received your message only a minute ago."
"Well, let's get on with it, we haven't got all day."
Estrelle went to the other side of the table, facing Jorran. "What's the experiment?"
He held up a syringe. "A convulsant. One of the few that will work on him. It should make things pretty unpleasant for him."
"Are we now in the business of torture? What value does this experiment have?"
"I want to see if his brain can be shocked into submission with chemicals, since the control unit can no longer do it. When he was returned for repairs four years ago, they were able to restore permanent cyber control with a software patch, but that won't work now. Then, the cyber was still able to shock his brain into submission. Now it can't, but this may work just as well."
Estrelle frowned. "What about brain damage?"
"A minimal risk, quite acceptable. This should cause
the loss of his higher brain functions and most of his motor control for a while, and it might give the control unit a chance to re-establish its dominance. If that happens, we won't have to drug him into idiocy, so you should be in favour of it."
"But you don't know if it will, and, judging by the fact that the control unit appears to be so completely under his command now that it no longer even tries to re-establish its dominance, it can't."
"That's why it's called an experiment," Jorran said.
"And if these convulsions are strong enough, he might break the clamps, or some bones."
"Bones heal, and even if he does break free, he won't be in any condition to do any harm."
Estrelle made a note on her data-wand. "As long as you're prepared to take full responsibility for the consequences. I'm logging my disapproval for management."
"You're really starting to get on my nerves," Jorran said. "Anyone would think you've become a cyber-hugger."
"I'm merely concerned about -"
He waved the syringe. "Spare me. Now, let's proceed."
"Just for the record," Sabre muttered, "I think you're all a bunch of cold-blooded, sadistic bastards, and I hope you all rot in Hell."
"No one asked you," Jorran retorted.
He turned to the drip that was attached to Sabre's right elbow, feeding him fluids and nutrients, and injected the intravenous line, then put the empty syringe on the trolley beside him.
He licked his lips. "This should be fascinating."
A minute passed, and Estrelle found that she was holding her breath. She forced herself to let it out and relax, her hands aching from gripping the data-wand. Sabre's hands clenched, and his eyes opened wide, pure silver under the bright overhead lights. He drew in a deep breath, then his back arched as all his muscles went rigid, and his lips drew back in a rictus of pain. Estrelle watched the cyber unit, which filled with red lights, alarmed when the seventh control light flashed green. Sabre quivered with the strain of the spasm, sweat sheened him and blood vessels swelled on his temples, neck and chest. Tears leaked from his eyes and ran down into his hair.
Martis frowned at the screen that showed the scrolling information from the control unit. "Heart rate up to two hundred and fifty and climbing, blood pressure at two hundred over one eighty and rising. Core temperature at one hundred and eight."
Sabre remained rigid, the metal clamps digging deep into his throat, wrists and ankles. His lips turned blue and the whites of his eyes reddened. Rond leant closer to study his face.
"Signs of petechial haemorrhaging, and cyanosis."
Martis nodded, watching the screen. "Blood oxygen down to seventy-two per cent and dropping. Bio-status at sixty-four per cent... sixty-three... sixty-two. Heart rate at two hundred and eighty, blood pressure at two hundred and twenty over two hundred and still rising. Core temperature now at one hundred and eleven."
"He's reaching his limits," Rond commented.
Estrelle kept her eyes on the control unit, unable to look at Sabre's tortured expression.
"Bio-status now down to fifty-two per cent," Matris intoned. "Heart rate at two hundred and ninety-four, blood pressure two hundred and thirty over two hundred and ten, core temperature approaching one hundred and thirteen."
Estrelle bit her lip, blinking to prevent stinging tears from overflowing. The seventh control light flickered.
"Sir, his heart rate is now three hundred and ten," Martis stated in an alarmed tone. "Blood pressure two hundred and fifty over two hundred and thirty, blood oxygen at fifty-one per cent, bio-status, forty-nine per cent, core temperature... one hundred and fourteen. Brain damage is occurring."
Estrelle glared at Jorran. "Give him the antidote."
He smirked. "He can take it."
Martis swore as the lights on his console all went red, and two alarms beeped and whined. Sabre went limp, flopping back onto the table. "He's gone into cardiac failure."
"Restart it," Jorran ordered as he picked up a syringe and injected the intravenous line.
Martis grabbed the two pads and slapped them onto Sabre's chest on either side of his heart, triggering the electrical jolt. The cyber's back arched again, then he sagged back.
"Restart shocks don't work too well on a cyber. The barrinium armour diffuses them too much," Martis observed.
"Just do your job," Jorran said, "we can do without the running commentary."
"Congratulations, Jorran. It looks like you've succeeded in killing him," Estrelle remarked.
"When I want your opinion, Cyber Tech, I'll ask for it!"
"I'm so glad I logged my disapproval. Now you'll have to face management alone."
He turned to glower at her. "Did I, or did I not see the seventh control light flashing while he was convulsed?"
"Have a look now, they're all red. That particular configuration, Host Tech Jorran, means the host is dead."
"Not for long. Shock him again, Martis."
Martis pressed the pads to Sabre's chest again and triggered another shock. "No response, sir."
Jorran picked up another syringe and injected its contents into the vein in Sabre's arm. "Try now."
Martis repeated the shock, and, as Sabre sagged back, the alarms stopped and a soft beep came from the console. "He's back. Heart rate... twenty. Blood pressure... eighty over sixty. Slow and low. Not good."
Estrelle gazed at the brow band, where a few green lights winked again, but most remained red. "What's his bio-status?"
"Um... forty per cent."
Jorran leant over the cyber and slapped his face hard enough to jerk his head to the side and make Estrelle jump.
"Wake up, you piece of shit. Come on, show me how much you want to live."
"I thought you wanted the control unit to take over?" Estrelle asked.
"I do."
"Then why are you talking to the host?"
"I want to see if he's still in there." He shot her a glare.
Estrelle glanced at the brow band. "Well, the cyber's not in control. This was a complete waste of time and resources."
Jorran swung around. "You're really starting to annoy me!"
Estrelle bit back a blistering retort, reminding herself that Jorran outranked her, even if he was not her boss, much as she disliked him and what he was doing to Sabre. As head of host research, he could complain to the head of cyber research and have her removed from the case. Instead, she looked down at Sabre, shocked to find that his eyes were open, and fixed on Jorran. The host tech noticed her expression and followed her gaze, recoiling from the fury and hatred in Sabre's eyes. A muscle jumped in the cyber’s jaw, and his brow furrowed.
"You had better pray I never get free again, Jorran, because if I do, I'm going to rip your guts out through your mouth and watch you choke on them."
Jorran paled, then leant closer. "I promise you never will, you psychopathic shithead. This time next week, you'll be unable to form a coherent sentence, and you'll be under cyber control again."
****
Estrelle glanced around and pulled her hood closer around her face, then pushed the entry-call buzzer of a tech accommodation, her heart pounding. The hour was late, and few people were abroad, except for patrolling enforcers. It made it less likely that anyone would see her, but would draw more suspicions if someone did. After several moments the door slid open to reveal Martis, who gaped at her. She slipped inside, pressing the door-close button on the inside, and pushed back her hood.
Martis' eyes widened. "Estrelle? What are you doing here?"
"I must talk to you. It's important."
"You couldn't do it at work?"
"No. Are you alone?"
He nodded, gesturing. "Have a seat."
The tiny, drab apartment had utilitarian grey furnishings, brown carpet and a standard-issue vid-console, on which an entertainment programme played. Martis touched the com-pad to switch off the blaring noise, and she paced around the cramped room. He watched her, looking confused.
She stopped and turn
ed to him. "How do you really feel about what they're doing to the free cyber host?"
His expression became shuttered. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes you do. Be honest with me, please. You can trust me. You hate it, don't you? You think it's horrible."
"It would be treason to say such a thing." Martis went over to an ugly steel lamp and switched it on. "Okay, talk now."
"What's that?"
"They listen to us; don't you know that? All quarters are monitored, but not constantly. It's a rotating watch list. Let's just hope no one was listening a minute ago. This is a low-tech jamming device. All they're getting now is static. What's this about?"
"Sabre. I want to help him."
"You can't. It's impossible."
"For one person, but maybe not for two. Will you help me?"
He shook his head, frowning. "If we're caught..."
"I know, but we won't be. Listen to me." She sank down on the black plastic air sofa. "He wants to send a message out, but I can't do it. He's asked me to swap him for another cyber for a couple of hours, so he can do it. But I need someone to do the swap while I distract the guards at the monitoring station."
"You're nuts. All the vids are recorded; they'll see it."
She stared across the room, her heart heavy. "Then it won't work?"
"No. Okay, look, I've been thinking about it too. It's barbaric, what they're doing to him, but if we swap him for another cyber, we have to leave before they see the vid-record."
"How?"
"A drone ship."
Estrelle looked up at him. "How?"
Martis sat on the low tubular plastic table. "The drone ships take new cybers to the drop-off points for sale. They're unmanned. We swap him with another cyber, put him in a casket and take him aboard. No one will think it's strange. When a drone ship's docked, there's no security. Workers load it up with cybers, then it leaves. We just wear worker's uniforms, take him aboard and hide. They'll never know."
"That's brilliant. Then we mingle with the workers at the other end and take him off."
The Cyber Chronicles VIII - Scorpion Lord Page 6