The Cyber Chronicles Book III - The Core

by T C Southwell

  The hive-queen's impatient hiss brought his attention back to the impending battle. The warrior stood ready in the centre of the floor, blade arms extended. As he walked towards the beast, he studied her, looking for some sign of weakness, a chink in the knobbly armour. Her body seemed to be a bad target, for although it was the most accessible, it was also the most heavily armoured. Her head was far out of reach, which left only her neck and limbs. He stopped before her, and she regarded him with flat, fiery eyes. The extended blade arms twitched, longing to rend his flesh, but she did not make the first move.

  Sabre looked at the trendil queen, wondering if she had to give a signal, and she hissed, "Begin, man-thing. You move first."

  Sabre sprang forward with a cyber's peerless acceleration, taking three running steps before performing a graceful handspring that brought him within range of his foe as her blade arms converged. Leaping at the beast, he landed a double-handed hammer blow to her lower neck. The trendil recoiled, and Sabre's hands flamed with pain from the full-power blows on her hard flesh. He spun and chopped at one of the blade arms that flashed towards him, smashing it aside. The blade dug into the resin floor, and the warrior hissed.

  The other arm slashed in, waist high, and, as he leapt over it, her tail hit him in the side and sent him skidding three metres along the floor. He rolled aside as the warrior advanced on him, struggling to suck in air. The familiar grating pain of a broken rib stabbed him when at last he was able to draw a breath. Only his reinforcing had saved him from a crushed rib cage, and a soft hiss of surprise came from the watching warriors. No normal man could have survived that blow.

  The warrior attacked with renewed ferocity, her blade arms and tail working in synchronised precision, chopping and slashing from all directions. He ducked, leapt, and threw himself into fast rolls, performing back flips and handsprings with the sinuous ease of a trained acrobat. He did not repeat the mistake he had made the first time, when he had allowed himself to spend too long in the air whilst jumping over the blade arm, and calculated his leaps to factor in his opponent's unusual speed. His movements seemed effortless, but a thin film of sweat soon sheened him. His chest heaved, partly from the exertion and partly from the pain of his broken rib.

  The cyber warned him of attacks from behind, vital against such formidable, multi-limbed opponent. Tassin whimpered in alarm whenever a blade shaved him, and, although he had not landed a telling blow on the trendil, the ease with which he avoided her attacks was testimony to his peerless skill and agility. The trendil showed no sign of tiring, however. Sabre longed to land blows on her head, the only part of her that might be vulnerable, but she made no attempt to use her teeth. Twice he struck a lashing blade arm without effect, proving that the flexible bony limbs were extremely strong.

  Sabre knew he had to get close to this opponent or he would lose through sheer exhaustion. His bio status dropped rapidly, already at sixty per cent. As a blade arm swished towards him, he ran at the beast and leapt, grabbed her knobbly neck and hung on. The beast's rough skin afforded a good grip, and he was swung high as the warrior reared. He wrapped his legs around her neck, swinging himself aside when a blade arm whistled past perilously close. Her hand arms unfolded and reached for him, their long claws curled. He suspected that these were not usually used for fighting, but the trendil wanted him off her neck.

  Releasing his leg hold, he swung by his arms and kicked the warrior's hands with a crunch of breaking bone. The warrior hissed, then flung herself down in an attempt to crush him. He let go a second before she thudded to the floor, landing on his feet beside her. Leaping at her head, he kicked her twice in the jaw, broke several glass teeth and caused blood to spurt from one nostril.

  The audience hissed as the trendil struggled to rise. Sabre flung himself onto her neck and held her down, raining blows that would have smashed a man's skull on her armoured head. A blade arm slashed at him, and he smashed it away. The cyber's warning flash made him duck as her tail blade swept over him to bury itself in the resin floor with a thud. The other blade arm whipped around and sliced into his upper arm. Blood flowed, but adrenalin blocked the pain. He kicked her tail, but could not snap the imbedded blade, and the warrior jerked it free.

  Sabre punched her head again, trying to burst an eye or crack her bony armour. Her semi-exoskeleton protected her organs, and her windpipe and jugular ran through the middle of the column of disks that formed her sinuous neck. Pounding it would do little good, and his hands were already bruised and bleeding. He gripped her long head, avoiding the needle teeth, and twisted. The trendil writhed, her blade arms and tail whistling towards him together. He batted away one blade arm, but the other sliced into his flank and the tail blade stabbed him in the back. Either blow would have killed a normal man, but the barrinium mesh turned the blade aside. In reflex he kicked the blade arm, which broke with a dull report.

  The trendil lifted him off the ground as she struggled to rise. Her neck lacked muscle, however, and his weight at the end of it was too much for her. The broken blade arm flopped, but the other slashed at him again. To win this battle he would have to be as ruthless as the cyber, and willing to suffer the grievous wounds that would result. As the blade arm swept towards his neck, he grabbed it. The blade sliced into his palm, grating on the mesh just under his skin. Gritting his teeth, he wrestled the arm closer, fighting the warrior's massive strength as she tried to pull it away.

  Again the tail blade whistled in, and he ducked. He chopped at the blade arm, failing to break it on the first attempt, but succeeded on the second. He dropped it, turning as the tail blade lashed in again. With her blade arms broken and her injured hand arms unable to reach him, the tail blade was her only weapon. Her powerful hind legs flexed, and she reversed, dragging him. The cyber flashed a warning, and tail blade hit him on the side of the head as he ducked, opening a gash that pumped blood down his neck. His attempt to grab it failed when it stabbed at him again, trying to dart in under his guard.

  Sabre panted, sweat streaming down him, mingled with blood. The tail blade lashed in yet again, too low to duck, and he smashed it down with a double-fisted blow, then grabbed it before she could jerk it away. She hauled on it, dragging him off her neck. Gripping the razor-sharp blade with one hand and the knobbly tail with the other, he twisted with all his strength. Her tail broke with a dull crunch, and without warning her head swooped towards him, mouth open.

  Sabre hurled himself backwards, kicking her under her jaw. The blow snapped her mouth shut and smashed dozens of glass teeth, then a blade arm whipped across the trendil's neck, severing it. Blood pumped from the stump, spraying him as he rolled away from the jerking corpse. He rose to his feet, staring with blank incomprehension at the second warrior who stood over her fallen comrade's body. The beast glowered at him, and he watched her warily. The trendil queen's hiss made him turn.

  "You have won, man-thing. I am surprised, though I doubt you will live much longer. Still, it is a momentous victory for a man-thing to defeat a kin-sister-warrior."

  Sabre shook his head in confusion, one eye still on the warrior who had killed his opponent. His dry mouth made it difficult to hiss his question.

  "Why did he – she kill her?"

  The queen's reply was vicious. "She was in dishonour. Never are the eating parts used in battle."

  "Ah." Sabre nodded. That explained why the beast had not tried to bite him before. Chills ran through him, and the chamber smeared before his aching eyes.

  "May we... have the metal tool now?"

  The hive-queen hissed at the warrior nearest her, and the beast vanished into a side tunnel behind the resin curtains. Sabre turned at a touch on his arm to find Tassin gazing at him with worried eyes. His head was cold, as if the blood had drained from it, and gravity seemed to have doubled. With a sigh, he sank to his knees, then settled on his haunches. Tassin knelt beside him, pressing a hand to the wound in his side to try to slow the bleeding.

  "The sword will heal you," she
muttered, frowning.

  "That bloody thing." Sabre wished he never had to see the hateful weapon again. He looked down at Tassin's blood-stained hands pressed to his wounds. "You'll have to carry it. I'd rather not touch it."

  "You must touch it in order for it to heal you."

  Sabre panted, light-headed and queasy from blood loss. The trendil queen watched him, patently waiting for him to die. Perhaps she planned to make him the main course. Blood pooled on the floor under him, soaking his ragged trousers.

  He glanced at Tassin and forced a smile. "I'm not going to die. The wounds are superficial. I've just lost a bit of blood, that's all."

  She looked stunned, glancing down at his wounds, then shook her head. "Even so, you need to be healed. We still have to get through the Death Zone."

  Sabre closed his eyes and concentrated on satisfying his craving for air. His bio status had stopped dropping at forty-two per cent. Tassin was right; he would have to force the sword to heal him so he could protect her in the Zone. For the moment, she still needed him. Deep within him, a wisp of bitter laughter flitted through his empty heart. That was his only purpose. It was the reason he had been created, to serve others and protect them; to pit his enhanced abilities against whatever threatened his charge. That was the only reason he, a manufactured man, was ever needed. The mocking voice shouted its derision from the dark corner of his mind where it dwelt. Cyborg! He had the right to hate people as much as these aliens, yet he could not dislike this girl. Every time he had a brush with death, he was tempted to let it claim him, but she always pulled him back from the brink. He would pay dearly for his sentimentality, he knew.

  The warrior reappeared carrying the sword, which looked small beside her bulk, but hummed with subdued animosity. Sabre eyed it with deep loathing. His enemy, and their salvation. The warrior held out the weapon, and Tassin rose to take it. The sword whined, a high-pitched, querulous tone of frustration, Sabre sensed.

  It had gone to great lengths to be rid of its human adversaries, and now was being handed back to them. Tassin turned to him, holding out the sword. Bracing himself for the lash of hatred the weapon would direct at him, he took hold of the hilt. Alien malice poured into him, making him grit his teeth and scowl. The sword gave a flat chime that echoed around the chamber, bringing startled hisses from the warriors. Evidently it had not revealed its vocal abilities to the trendils.

  Sabre raised the weapon and grated, "Heal me."

  The sword gave a flat gong drone.

  "Heal me, or I will destroy you."

  Its answering chime was discordant, and it radiated waves of malevolent triumph. It did not believe he could destroy it. Sabre considered. Well, perhaps he could not, after all. He could snap the blade, even pound it into a mangled mass, but that would not affect the entity within it. Unless he melted it down, or broke it into so many pieces that he reduced its occupant to nothing, he could not destroy the Core. He had a stronger weapon than brawn, however, a high-technology ally whose speciality was bending others to its will.

  Gripping the hilt with both hands, Sabre touched the flat of the blade to the brow band. The cyber knew what he required. The band flared with blue light, and its subsonic drone filled the cavern with an eerie, almost inaudible humming. The sword chimed, and, with a flash, turned to crystal. Neosin crawled over his skin as it fought the cyber's command, flowing into the brow band to be directed back into the crystal blade. Shudders racked Sabre as the neosin soaked into him, cramped his muscles and sent unpleasant tingles along his bones.

  The cyber's drone changed tone as it hunted through the frequencies for the one that would subdue the Core. The brow band's electric blue glare brightened, shone through the crystal sword and turned it into a weapon of light. The warriors hissed, and the trendil queen shifted on her resin ramp. The cyber's tone rose, and the sword chimed, then flashed to metal. The cyber's tone shot up to an excruciating pitch, then became inaudible, and the sword reverted to crystal again. This time its power flowed around Sabre in a shimmering sphere, sealing him off from the world as it enveloped him in the time twist that would obliterate his injuries.

  The blood that ran down him flowed back into his wounds, and the lacerations vanished. The long slash in his flank closed, the skin sealing. The blood he had lost during the battle remained splattered on the floor, beyond the sword's influence. Sabre lowered it and slumped, the cyber dimming to its usual red flashes. The weapon reverted to metal with a harsh, angry whine. Tassin tugged at his arm, and he guessed that she was afraid he would pass out, aware of the hive-queen's hostile eyes boring into them. He closed his eyes, longing to lie down and rest. His bio status was at forty-three per cent. For some reason, reversing time to heal his wounds had not restored his strength, but he was too tired to wonder about it now. If anything, he was even more exhausted. The trendil queen hissed, a sharp sound. Tassin tugged on Sabre's arm again.

  "Sabre, I think we should leave."

  "Yeah, that's what she said," he muttered. "You queens all think alike. Hold onto me."

  He opened his eyes and raised the sword, holding it before him. "Take us back to the Death Zone, the same place, the same time that we left."

  The sword did not have to vocalise its feelings, its hatred burnt through Sabre, yet it had no choice. He closed his eyes again as the chamber smeared and faded. Tassin hung onto him while they spiralled away into the dizzying nothingness and dark, weightless cold. The air was sucked from his lungs, and he opened his eyes to glimpse stars spinning in an endless helix of light. He wondered if the Core could hold them in this airless void and kill them, but, even as prickles of fear trotted up his spine, weight returned.

  Sabre hit the ground hard; the impact jarred his arm and forced a grunt from him. The sword clattered onto rocky ground. Sucking air into his tortured lungs, he fought to stay conscious, rolling onto his hands and knees. With an effort, he sat up and looked around. Tassin lay close by, her face deathly pale, curled in a foetal ball.

  He jumped as Dena shrieked, "Sabre!"

  While he rubbed his ringing ear, she bounced with joy, but her face fell when she noticed Tassin's ashen countenance.

  "Tassin! Is she dead? Help her Sabre!"

  Sabre crawled over to the Queen and gave her a vigorous shake. Her head lolled, but the scanners showed that she was not breathing, and her blood oxygen was only sixty-two per cent. He could survive without air for up to twenty minutes, and Tassin had clearly been starved of oxygen for too long. It had not seemed as if they had spent all that long in the void, but evidently the time had been deceptive. Dena wailed, and Sabre cursed, wondering if he would have to resuscitate her. His lifted her into his lap and patted her face, using harder slaps when this evoked no response, muttering under his breath. Tassin coughed and gasped, her eyes opening wide. Dena gave a crow of delight, and Sabre flopped onto his back, his limbs shaking. After a few minutes, Tassin sat up and looked around at the swirling madness.

  "We're back."

  "Yeah."

  Dena flung her arms around the Queen. "I'm so glad you're okay! The monster just vanished!"

  "The monster?" Tassin looked surprised. "Didn't we vanish too?"

  The child shook her head. "No. It was all confusing. You and Sabre were fighting it, and then poof! It disappeared, and you fell out of the air."

  Tassin swung to scowl at Sabre, who smiled crookedly.

  "But... what happened, Sabre?"

  "I told it to bring us back to the same place, and the same time."

  "You mean..."

  "No time has passed here."

  Tassin cast an amazed glance at the sword. "How did you know it could do that?"

  He shrugged. "A good guess. If the Core can span universes and reverse time, it can certainly span time too. Also, the catapult effect is linked to time as well as place." He stretched, wincing as aching muscles protested.

  Dena eyed him, clearly confused and intrigued by their conversation. "What happened?"

  Ta
ssin sighed. "It's a long story. I'll tell you as we go along."

  Sabre staggered to his feet, lurched to the cart and climbed into the hay, stretching out. His ribs ached, and bright spots danced in his eyes. Purr jumped up and settled down to groom his dusty fur.

  "I'm afraid I wasn't much help."

  Sabre smiled. "It was a bit out of your league, Purr. What could you do, gnaw on its legs? Even they were bony."

  The mosscat gave his purring chuckle. "You're right, friend Sabre, but I wish I could have done more, even so."

  "You're doing plenty, just guiding us out of this hellhole. If not for you, we'd probably be going in circles."

  "The Flux-zone is fading. Soon I won't be able to find my way, when the lines of force have gone. But I think we'll be out before that happens."

  Sabre looked down at the dirt and dried sweat that covered him. "What I need now is a pool of real water."

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Death Zone faded. Flux-reality became mere illusions, its swirling chaos harmless, and they made swift progress through it. Sabre recovered most of his strength, and, with the cyber's aid, they avoided any more monsters. Those that appeared on the scanners seemed to be wandering in aimless circles, confused by the chaos.

  Tassin told Dena the story of the trendil hive again and again, upon her insistence. When she grew tired of telling it, Dena pestered Sabre for his version, then compared the two and picked out any inconsistencies. Sabre was able to smile again, a little wryly, at her dedication to detail. He longed for the journey to end. The constant travelling, fighting and hazards had drained him. All he wanted was a tranquil life. That dream did not await him at the end of this journey, however. Not for long, at least.

  Sabre had lost count of the days by the time they reached the mist wall. When they emerged into the desert's brilliant sunshine, it seemed as if they had been in the Death Zone for an eternity, and Real-reality was a balm after the madness. Behind them, the mist wall shimmered, shot with rainbows. He wondered how long it would take to fade once the Core's residual power was used up.