
Table of Contents
The Cyber Chronicles Book III
The Core
T C Southwell
Published by T C Southwell at Smashwords
Copyright © 2010 by T C Southwell
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Table of Contents
After fleeing her kingdom to escape the kings who plotted to annex her realm through marriage, Tassin and Sabre crossed the Death Zone and explored the lands on the far side of the Badlands, searching for a peaceful place to live, at least for a while. The seventeen-year-old Queen survived the dangers of the Zone and the lands beyond thanks to Sabre's peerless survival and fighting skills, and the reasons for those were the same reasons he hated himself, and knew he was ultimately doomed to a fate worse than death. He was a cyborg.
The cyber-bio combat unit is the ultimate hi-tech fighting machine. Sabre has metal-plated bones and internal body armour, and was once controlled by a micro-supercomputer embedded in a brow band attached to the skull plating under his scalp. A cyber's built-in equipment includes bio-scanners and ground-penetrating scanners, plus a cybernetic interface capable of controlling animals over a limited distance. In his natural environment, the advanced world that created him, he is able to interface with other AIs and break security codes and firewalls with ease.
A cyber is considered to be the most dangerous weapon ever created. His reactions are honed to split-second precision, and he is trained in every art of combat, able to use any weapon, speak every language and operate any craft, plus the data stored in his brain, intended for the supercomputer's use, is updated at regular intervals. He is so dangerous, in fact, that his creators have ensured that no cyber will ever gain a sense of self, with all the ramifications that stem from it.
The cyber saved Tassin, who, while she disliked his blank stares and clipped tones, enjoyed his utter obedience. He helped her to flee her kingdom, but, during the pursuit over the mountains, he was attacked and fell several hundred metres, damaging the brow band. The host, enslaved almost since birth, gained his freedom, and Tassin met a gentle, unassuming man. The damaged control unit was unable to regain control, and Sabre agreed to help Tassin escape her pursuers, whereupon host and cyber reached an uneasy truce.
The cyber was still able to cause him pain, and at first denied him access to its scanners and data. Sabre has suffered all his life as a spectator, unable even to focus his eyes, enduring terrible pain and abuse. He knows, however, that his freedom is only temporary, for his owner will return for him one day. Cybers are extremely expensive.
In the Kingdom of Olgara, King Xavier betrayed Tassin, but Sabre rescued her again. When she ordered him to kill the soldiers that recaptured them, however, he refused, and entered into a monumental mental battle with the cyber. The supercomputer succeeded in robbing Sabre of all motor control, and he was certain he would suffer a slow and painful death.
The cyber's mission is to obey Tassin and keep her safe, and it offered Sabre a bargain, its help in return for his co-operation. Sabre agreed, and the control unit shared its information with him. When he discovered pre-war weapons in a ruined city that could keep Tassin safe from her enemies, Sabre knew he had to take her home. Once her castle was armed with laser cannons and grenade launchers, the kings would soon learn to leave her alone. Almost a year has passed, and the prospect of being returned to the horror of cyber control is one Sabre dreads, and will do anything to avoid. He still has a mission to complete in the Death Zone, and it offers him a way out...
The soft dawn light had hardened into mid-morning brightness and the chirring of caracans filled the still air when Sabre scooped Tassin up and carried her out to the donkey cart. The day would be hot, he surmised.
She twined her arms around his neck. "I can walk, really."
Had she truly objected to being carried, he mused, she should have put up a far more convincing opposition. The way she clung to him still made him a little uncomfortable, although he seemed to be becoming used to it. Nevertheless, he was glad when he reached the cart and placed her in it. He led the donkeys from the ruined city, turning south towards the badlands and the Death Zone. Owing to the wide circle they had travelled, they headed back by a different route, skirting the jungle to the west.
Sabre avoided stones that might jar Tassin's half-healed wound, since the cart had no suspension. The scrubland grew harsher, the coarse grass dry and yellow, the stunted trees twisted.
The sun blazed overhead when Sabre stopped in the shade of a clump of trees and settled cross-legged on the ground, opened one of the packs and handed Tassin a cooked tuber left over from the previous night's supper. Since she had fled her kingdom to escape a forced marriage to the rapist King Torrian, her life seemed to consist of nothing but endless travel and its accompanying miseries. Sabre's tireless strength amazed her, and his strange powers had saved her from many perils on their journey, yet he remained something of a mystery.
When her father had died, leaving her at the mercy of the three kings who sought to wed her and claim her kingdom, the wizard Manutim had agreed to help her. His gift of a strange casket had at first excited her, but she had been disappointed when she had found only a man inside. He had proven to be far more than a mere man, however. He was a peerless warrior who possessed powers she still did not understand.
At first, he had been strange indeed. He had stared through her as if he was blind, and had spoken in a dead, toneless voice, yet he had obeyed her every wish without argument or complaint. She recalled the terrible day when one of the enchanted wolves Torrian's mage had sent after them had attacked him, and he had fallen from the cliff. The accident had broken the device on his forehead that had controlled him until then, and led to the amazing revelation of meeting the true man. He had explained his origins, and that before the accident he had somehow been under the geas of a machine, but much of it still confused her.
When he had stepped from the casket, his skin had been pale gold and his hair mere stubble. Months in the sun had darkened his complexion and his dark blond hair had grown. Sabre kept it short with his knife, which he also used to scrape the stubble off his chin.
A thin scar ran down the centre of his forehead to halfway down his nose, more ran along his cheekbones and the edge of his jaw, and continued in his hair as white lines. They also ran down his arms, dividing at his wrists to run along the top of each finger to its tip. Still more ran down the sides and centre of his chest and along the top of his legs. He had explained that they had been inflicted by the people who had somehow created him, who had cut him open to strengthen his bones with a metal called barrinium. He had been created as a weapon in a place beyond the stars, a supreme killing machine controlled by the band of golden metal that curved around his brow, about three centimetres wide and fifteen centimetres long, its rounded ends not quite reaching his hairline. The strip of black crystals embedded in it sparkled with tiny red, green and amber lights. His face, with its lean contours and noble features, fascinated her. In her experience, warriors possessed coarse, brutish countenances, often battle-scarred and battered, but apart from the scars his creators had inflicted, his face was unmarked and oddly sensitive.
Even the battles he had fought since she had known him had not marked him, and his skill as a warrior amazed her. His narrow, high-bridged nose gave him a noble air, although she had seen little of such fine features amongst the aristocracy of her land. His dark brows were almost level above his grey eyes, and he had a gentle smile. He tore a tough tuber with perfect white teeth, and even in repose, his lithe, whipcord torso possessed a hard, sharp-edged musculature. He still wore the strange dark grey clothes he had donned after stepping almost naked from the casket, somewhat worn and ragged now. The magical weapons he had brought with him were all gone, and now he carried only a sword and knife.
Sabre wondered why Tassin stared at him so intently sometimes, when she thought he would not notice. He always noticed, vigilance was second nature to him, and a person's attention was not something to be ignored, although in her case it was benign. She kept herself well groomed, considering their primitive living conditions, and her extreme youth allowed her to endure the hardships with little outward effects. Her long jet hair gleamed like polished satin, finger-combed and plaited to keep it out of the way. Her skin had darkened from its former creamy hue to a pale gold, and her face had become a little thinner, but remained the loveliest he had seen. Although, at less than one point eight metres, he was not a tall man, the diminutive Queen was a good fifteen centimetres shorter.
Thick black lashes framed her dark blue eyes, which often sparkled with anger and defiance beneath her arched brows, and her stubborn chin reflected her character well. He looked away, berating himself for allowing his eyes to linger. He had been in her company since the tiny supercomputer housed in the brow band had been broken, releasing him from its control.
Although he recalled the time he had spent with her before that, it did not really count, since he had not been himself. The part of him that still dwelt in the shadowy recess where he had once been imprisoned mocked his growing attachment to this young girl, jeering the hated name he had tried so hard to forget. Cyborg! He could not escape it, though, no matter how hard he tried. He was a cyber-bio combat unit, grade A, a peerless fighting machine. His job was to protect her, and the bargain struck with the damaged micro-supercomputer allowed him his freedom.
The strange feelings he had for her were confusing, but he knew better than to act on them. He looked down at his hands, recalling the agony the surgeons had inflicted upon him during the operation to strengthen his bones. He was capable of crushing a man's skull with one blow. He could smash through fifteen centimetres of concrete and survive numerous methods of killing, should they be practised upon him. He loathed himself.
Gearn stopped and stared at the track, torn between disbelief and triumph. For days he had walked around the city, hoping to find a sign that the Queen and her companion had survived its curse and journeyed on. He crouched beside the wheel marks and studied the hoof prints of two donkeys. The warrior mage's faint track was unmistakeable from the zigzag pattern on the soles of his boots.
The Queen, he was sure, rode in the cart. He glanced along the trail, frowning. The warrior mage had turned back towards the Badlands. Gearn shrugged it off. It did not matter now where they went; he would overtake them and set the trap he had planned. He followed the tracks, glad they were easy to discern. The fact that the warrior mage made no effort to hide his trail told Gearn that either his foe thought he was dead, or was confident of his ability to defeat him.
The months of living in the outdoors had left no mark upon Gearn. His spells protected him from hardship, although the frequent castings drained him. It drew more from his surroundings, however, and each place where he used sorcery was left withered and dead. In areas where life was abundant, it merely sickened the plants and beggared the soil, but in this poor land it turned the vegetation a crisp brown and reduced the sandy soil to lifeless dust. It also affected a far larger area, and his campsites were now dead spots.
The quest to capture the Queen had become an obsession. He refused to entertain the notion that the warrior mage was more powerful than him. It was just not possible, and he intended to prove it. The chase had become a test of his abilities, and he was determined to succeed, not only in capturing the Queen, but in killing the warrior mage too.
Murdor's death and the warrior mage's subsequent immunity to Gearn's illusions had shaken him. Since then, his traps' failure had taught him much about his foe's considerable abilities. Now, however, he was prepared, and the next trap would succeed. He gestured and murmured a short incantation for strength, and the grass around him withered.
Sabre glanced back at Tassin, who sat on the donkey cart behind him and squinted across the scrubland, shading her eyes. Although he often trotted for most of the day, now he led the donkeys at a walk, to let them rest a bit. A week had passed, and they were deep in the blighted area, approaching the desert again. They had not encountered any monsters, and he hoped their luck held out as they neared the source. The scanners had picked up traces of radiation drifting on the wind, and he deduced that they were heading into a region close to a bomb site. The radiation level was not dangerous for the short time Tassin would be exposed to it, but the creatures that lived in the area were mutated. After killing a six-legged rabbit for supper, Sabre had wondered if the water was contaminated.
As they travelled south the strange animals had become more plentiful, and they had come across an eagle that had obviously not flown since it had plunged from its nest as a juvenile. The bird had had shrunken, twisted wings, yet it had survived on the ground, indicating that others were even less able to fend for themselves. They had encountered half bald birds, blind rabbits, a two-headed deer and a fox with three tails. Sabre had been reluctant to eat the mutated creatures, and Tassin refused, so they had switched to roots, nuts and fruit, although some of them were deformed too. He had found a few healthy chickens and rabbits, and these they had eaten.
Her injury was almost healed, and she was able to walk for spells, riding in the cart when she grew tired. Sabre changed the dressing every night, and she appeared to enjoy his gentle, if impersonal, ministrations. He was glad it was healing well; he found tending the injury unsettling. She always watched him so intently, and he wondered what she found so interesting. Was it the bit of metal welded to his head or the ugly scars that fascinated her? He could not berate her for it though; it was not her fault he was a freak.
Sabre kept an eye on the scanners, alert for radiation hot spots. The region puzzled him. There was no sign of a bomb site. Instead, there were bright spots of radiation spread all over the sickly land. When they came across a spring, he found the water uncontaminated and filled the water skins, then left Tassin to bathe.
Sabre investigated a hot spot three hundred metres from the spring, and discovered a black, shiny stone. Squatting, he picked it up and examined it. It was a piece of black glass from the desert, where the bombs had melted the sand. Deadly radiation filled those sites, and the chunk he held was highly radioactive. Although harmless to him, it would make Tassin sick, maybe even kill her. The only way it could have ended up so far from the desert was if someone had brought it, and whoever had been foolish enough to venture into the black glass in the desert was surely dead.
Digging a hole, he buried it in the dry, sandy soil, which would mask some of its emissions. He walked four hundred metres to another spot of radioactivity, and found second fragment of black glass. One, he could understand, dropped by a wandering, dying man, but two? Perhaps the same man, yet they were a fair distance apart. He buried it and walked on, heading for yet another bright spot. By the time he decided it was safe to return to the camp, he had buried five pieces of black glass, and arrived at the unsettling conclusion that all the bright spots on his scanners were bits of radioactive glass.
Tassin roasted roots over the fire when he returned, and the donkeys tore at the scrubby trees nearby. Her smile faded at his dour expression.
"What's wrong?"
He sat on the other side of the fire. "I don't like this place. It's strange. I've found radioactive glass from the desert scattered around here. That's what's making everything so sick, and I don't know how it got here."
"Some now-dead fool brought it from the desert?"
"That's what I thought at first, but there's too much of it, and it's all over the place. I buried what I found, but there's bound to be more."
"You touched it?"
He smiled. "Don't worry, I was treated for it."
"So what should we do, turn back and find another way through?"
"No, I think we should push on, but as quickly as possible."
Tassin stared into the fire. "Okay. I want to go home."
For the next three days, Sabre led the reluctant donkeys at a trot, and Tassin rode in the cart. More and more spots of radiation showed up on the scanners, and he gave them a wide berth while she was with him. On the fourth night, he left her by the camp fire and went to investigate one of the radioactive spots, which seemed larger than before.
Instead of a single shard of black glass, he found a pile of it, and the implications sent a shiver through him. He did not wish to alarm Tassin, so he decided not to tell her, but whoever had made the pile had contaminated the entire area with radioactivity. People could become immune to radiation, and certain treatments could make them invulnerable to the electromagnetic waves, as he was, but why contaminate the land?
Gearn's gleeful chuckle echoed around the cave. The tip of a stalagmite in the centre of the cavern glowed, throwing cold blue light on the jagged walls and weird, sculpted formations. It had taken him a while to enchant the stone, and he was well pleased with the result. Now all he had to do was wait for his victim to wander into his trap. He sat on a ledge and contemplated his plan with growing satisfaction. The spell-casting had drained all life for miles around, and ended the lives of several wild beasts. It had tired him, too, but it had been worth it.
Stalactites stabbed down like giant stone teeth, throwing pointed shadows onto the walls. From deep within the caverns, the slow drip of water marked time, like a clock. The cold, damp air smelt musky, as if stagnant from ages of disuse. Glistening trails down the walls ended in glinting black pools, and strange, worm-like animals made strings of pearly globes that hung from the roof.
Gearn rose and walked around the cave again, threading his way through the stalagmites. His plan was perfect. The warrior mage had moved in a straight line for some time now, and Gearn was certain he would pass near here. Then the Queen would vanish, and the warrior mage would never find her. He would exhaust himself in useless searching long after Gearn had returned to Arlin with his prize. Perhaps the warrior mage would die in his quest, although he might survive. Either way, Gearn would win. He laughed again, the echoes of his mirth ringing around the caverns beyond the one in which he waited, as patient as a coiled snake.
Sweat trickled down Sabre's chest as he led the donkeys at a trot in the noon sun's sweltering heat. He carried a laser and two extra power packs in his harness in case they encountered a Death Zone monster, for he calculated that they were not far from the desert now. His sensitive ears picked up a faint cry, and he stopped to listen. Tassin watched him with a puzzled frown, clearly unable to hear it, although her ears must have recovered from the sonlar blast by now. He tugged the donkeys forward. Whatever it was, he wanted no part of it.
The alien sound sharpened his awareness, which the monotonous trotting had dulled, and he noticed that the bushes around them were withered. He checked the scanners, but the radiation level was no higher than usual. Perhaps a dearth of water had caused it. The cry came again, louder, and he slowed to a walk, glancing inwards at the scanners. Whatever it was, they were drawing closer to it, and he wondered if he should detour. He stopped, undecided. Tassin looked up as another faint, far off wail reached them.
"It's a child," she said. "It must be lost."
"The scanners detect nothing."
She snorted. "You and your scanners. It's a lost child, I tell you."
"Then it must be very far off."
Tassin climbed down, shading her eyes as she gazed across the scrubland. "The poor thing, lost out here in this dreadful wilderness." She set off in the direction of the cry.
Sabre called, "Leave it, Tassin. I'm sure its parents will find it."
"What if they don't?" she shouted over her shoulder. "What if they're dead?"
Sabre tied the donkeys to a tree, shaking his head in exasperation and muttering, "What if it's a Death Zone monster? What if you mind your own bloody business? What if you do what I say for once in your life?" When he looked up, she was a fair distance away. "Hey! Wait for me!"
"Hurry up!"
The despairing wail came again, and she hurried behind a shrivelled bush. Sabre cursed and broke into a run. Rounding the bush, he stopped in surprise when all he found beyond it was empty sand and dry undergrowth. He turned in circles, searched the scrubby landscape and wondered if she was playing some stupid game.
"Tassin!" he bellowed. "Tassin, this isn't funny! Where the hell are you?"
Sabre frowned, recalling a soft grating when she had disappeared behind the bush, which now it seemed ominously significant.
"Tassin!"
Only an eagle's distant cry answered him, and dry leaves rustled in the hot breeze. All the vegetation in the area was dead, and he wondered why. The problem of finding Tassin was far more important than a few desiccated bushes, however. The scanners showed only the donkeys and a few wild animals, increasing his alarm.
Tassin sat up. Something brittle and scratchy supported her, which crackled and gave under her weight. She struggled in its clutches, realising that it was a pile of brush that had cushioned her fall. Spitting out dust, she crawled to the edge, wincing as sharp sticks scratched her. She had fallen into a cave, it seemed, and she wondered why she had not seen it. A soft giggle escaped her when she thought about how furious Sabre would be with her this time. She was always stumbling into something. Looking up, she was surprised to find darkness above her, yet she had fallen straight down, so where was the entrance? Sabre must be close by now, for he had not been that far behind her.
"Sabre!"
She climbed off the pile of branches, brushing leaves and twigs from her skirt and hair, then looked up again.
"Sabre!"
"He can't hear you," a voice said from the shadows, and Tassin whipped around. A thin, black-robed man emerged into the faint blue glow she now realised was the only light source, emanating from further inside the cave.
"Welcome to my parlour, Majesty." He chuckled, the echoes redoubling his mirth.
"You!"
"Yes, me. Did you think I'd given up? That's what you were meant to think, of course." He stepped closer. "I've been very patient, and bided my time, devising this trap. It worked rather well, don't you think? I was annoyed that the warrior mage was so good at avoiding my previous traps, but this one is too good for him. He won't find you now."
Tassin backed away. "He will. He can see through your illusions."
"I thought as much, but this is not an illusion. The hole through which you fell is blocked by a slab of rock. He'll never know where you went." He gestured, his loose sleeves flapping. "Eventually he'll leave to search further afield, or give up. Then you and I will return to Arlin, where you'll wed King Torrian as you should have long ago, and saved me a lot of trouble."
Tassin glared at his gaunt features. "Sabre will find a way to free me. You don't know what he's capable of."
Gearn sniggered. "If he manages to free you now, he must be superhuman."
"That's exactly what he is."
He frowned, moving towards her again. "Come, Your Majesty, let's go to a more comfortable spot to wait for your superman to give up and go away."
Tassin strived to avoid his thin hand, but the cave wall brought her up short and his bony fingers gripped her arm. She aimed kicks at his shins, but his robe hid his legs.
"Take your hands off me!"
He clicked his tongue, and a strange weakness made her sag as her knees almost buckled.
"Come now, Majesty. You've had a nasty fall. Let's find somewhere for you to sit and relax."
Tassin panted with fear and outrage, unable to struggle as he led her into a larger cavern where a stalagmite emitted cold blue light. She knew sorcerers were able to draw energy from living things, but had not heard of one doing it to a person before. Perhaps because their victims did not survive. He helped her to a shelf of rock and let her sink down on it. She glared up at him, her heart cold with loathing.
"When Sabre comes, I shall insist that he kills you."
Gearn chuckled. "He's not coming, my dear."
Sabre squatted beside the bush and forced himself to put aside his concern and think logically. If someone had taken her, they could not have moved out of scanner range so fast, so she had not been taken into the bushes, which only left two directions, up or down. He ruled out up on a primitive planet like this one, and studied Tassin's footprints in the sand at his feet. Finding the last one, he scrutinised the ground in front it, where the sand sifted into a shallow depression.
Testing it with his hand, he found a hard surface under the layer of dust, and consulted the cyber's information. A structural analysis formed in his mind, the image growing in layers as the structural scanners penetrated the rock lid next to which he crouched. It showed a three-metre vertical shaft with a cavern at the bottom and a hint of a possible side tunnel, but the rock was too thick for the scanners to penetrate any further. A trap. He stepped into the depression, hoping to spring the trap again and follow Tassin down, but nothing happened no matter how hard he stamped.
The structural information showed that the lid was only about ten centimetres thick. He could have lifted it easily, but there was nothing to grip. The plug seemed to have risen from below, and fitted seamlessly into the surrounding stone. He considered the weapons on the cart, none of which were suitable for this job. The lasers would take ages to melt through ten centimetres of rock, and explosives would be too dangerous.
The ground-penetrating scanners could not detect life signs, so he had no way of knowing where Tassin was. If she was lying below the plug, an explosion could kill her, and, even if he smashed it some other way, the falling rock might still hit her. At least he had to warn her, and try to wake her up if she was comatose. Picking up a stone, he pounded on the lid several times.
There were many ways to break rock, but perhaps the best way, in this case, was not to smash it. Rising to his feet, he trotted to the cart, where the donkeys browsed on the withered tree he had tethered them to, rapidly reducing it to a skeleton. He chose one of the laser cannons and loaded it, taking two more power packs and a water skin, then returned to the rock plug. Using a bush to support the unwieldy weapon, he set the beam to broad and aimed it at the depression. A beam of hot blue light shot from its blunt muzzle with a faint jolt and crackle, and he held the trigger while the rock heated, the layer of sand fusing to glass.
Gearn's head jerked around when a dull booming echoed through the cavern, staring in patent disbelief at the shaft whence the ominous sounds came. Tassin laughed, and he scowled at her.
"He will not get in, My Queen, so don't start celebrating. He may have found the door, but he can't open it."
She smiled. "Don't be so sure, mage. His powers are greater than yours."
"We shall see." He rose and approached her, took hold of her arm before she could spring away and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go for a little walk."
Gearn gestured, and the back of the cavern vanished, revealing a low tunnel toothed with limestone pillars. Another gesture brought the blue light that inhabited the stalagmite leaping into his palm, where it nestled in a shimmering sphere. Holding it aloft, Gearn strode into the tunnel, towing Tassin. She tried to wrench free, but he ignored her struggles, and she was forced to follow him on a winding course between the pillars, stumbling on the rough ground. The tunnel opened out into a larger cavern, and unseen denizens scuttled from the light, taking refuge in dark corners.
A pool of mysterious black water occupied one quarter of the cave, fed by a trickle down the far wall. Stalactites and stalagmites grew from ceiling and floor, carved into majestic shapes by water and time, as if a mad sculptor had been loosed into this subterranean darkness and forced to work by touch alone. Fragile shapes hung from the roof, lacy filigrees of rock formed from minerals and Mother Nature's infinite patience. Glowing colours revealed themselves in the alien light, bright streaks of scarlet, yellow and white, minerals that the seep of moisture had leached from the soil.
Tassin had no time to feast her eyes upon these wonders as Gearn hauled her through the cave and into another narrow tunnel, where he paused to wave a hand and mutter a few arcane words before hurrying on. She stumbled down a steep incline into a chamber filled with thin, sharp stalagmites, like sharpened stakes at the bottom of a grim trap. Gearn threaded his way through them, uncaring of the damage he did. On the far side, he stopped and made her sit on a step in the cave wall, next to yet another tunnel. He infected one of the stalagmites with his blue light, then rested against the wall, his cadaverous features corpse-like in the harsh illumination.
"Now we wait," he said. "Your superman will never find you here, I promise."
Tassin leant against the wall and watched a sparkling water droplet form on the tip of one of the stalactites overhead. It swelled with incredible slowness, mesmerising her with its timeless beauty. Trying to fight the magician was a futile endeavour. He would only use his magic to drain her strength, or worse, bind her with a geas. All she could do was wait for Sabre.
Sabre studied the granite lid, deciding that it was hot enough for his purpose. Releasing the spent laser, he picked up the water skin and poured water over the lid. Clouds of steam engulfed him, and there was a dull report as the rock gave up the uneven struggle with hot and cold. He emptied the skin and waited for the steam to clear, then squatted to examine his handiwork. Cracks dissected the lid into three segments, and he picked up the stone he had used to bang on it earlier and smashed it with a blow. The rock fragments rattled down the shaft and crashed onto something crunchy far below, and he leant over the edge to peer into the darkness.
"Tassin?"
The scanners remained devoid of life signs, and his concern redoubled. Lowering himself over the side, he climbed down the shaft's craggy walls, but found only a pile of brush at the bottom. Glancing around, he spotted a tunnel and followed it into a stalactite-filled cavern. It seemed to be a dead end, and he used the cyber's infrared vision to search for footprints, but the floor was rock. When he checked the cave's structural analysis, it showed a tunnel right in front of him, yet it looked like a solid wall.
Sabre frowned, his suspicions as to the identity of Tassin's abductor confirmed, and passed his hand through the stone. With a growl, he walked through the illusion and banged his head resoundingly on the tunnel's low roof, staggering back with a curse. Clutching his pounding head, he bent and entered a low, pillar-filled tunnel that soon opened out into a larger cavern with a pool and beautiful rock formations. Hurrying on, he reached a steep incline, and a faint scuffling came from ahead.
"Tassin!"
A muffled cry answered him, and he raced down the slope, dancing through the forest of stalagmites at its base. Again he faced a dead end, but the ground-penetrating scanners showed him that the tunnel continued. He ran through it, bouncing off smooth, damp walls, and a faint blue light appeared ahead, bobbing and flitting through yet another forest of pillars in the next cave. It vanished into a tunnel at the far end of the cavern, and he pursued it, slipping on the wet floor as he dodged the pillars.
Entering an upward-sloping tunnel, Sabre sprinted up it with a speed no normal man could hope to match. Rocky protrusions and a slippery floor made it treacherous. Bursting into sunlight, he shaded his eyes, squinting. A black-robed figure raced away across the sand, a flapping robe exposing thin legs. Tassin stumbled behind, held by a powerful grip on her wrist that she clearly could not break. Sabre sprinted after them, kicking up puffs of sand.
"Mage!" he bellowed.
The figure stopped and turned to face him, gripping the Queen's arm. She looked pale and furious.
"No closer, or she suffers!" Gearn shouted.
Sabre took a few more steps, and the mage jerked Tassin's arm, making her bite her lip. He thrust her in front of him as Sabre reached for his laser.
"Leave now, or I'll make her suffer until you do."
"Release her, and I might let you live."
Tassin cried, "Kill him, Sabre! He doesn't dare harm me!"
The mage twisted her arm, making her yelp, and snarled in her ear, "Think again, Queen Tassin. Without you I'm dead anyway, so I don't mind taking you with me, if it comes to that."
Sabre held up his hands. "It doesn't have to come to that. If you release her, I'll let you go. You can make a life for yourself here and never have to answer to Torrian."
"Why should I make a deal with you when I have the upper hand?" the wizard sneered. "I will not live in this barbaric land. You're beaten; go now before I hurt her."
Sabre glanced around, seeking something he could use to defeat the mage. If Sabre attacked, he might be able to free Tassin before Gearn could harm her, but it was a risk he was unwilling to take unless there was no other way. He did not doubt the magician would kill her if pushed too far. The man's eyes glittered with madness. Sabre's wandering gaze found an eagle perched high in a dead tree behind the sorcerer, and he consulted the scanners.
The bird was four hundred and ninety-three metres away, almost at the limit of the cyber's range, but it might work. His thoughts communicated his need to the control unit, and it responded with a series of flashing statistics that calculated the chances of success, which were fair to middling, apparently. Gearn twisted Tassin's arm when the brow band lighted, making her grimace.
"I warn you, if you try anything I will kill her! Walk away, now!" the wizard shouted.
Sabre made a soothing gesture. "I'm just trying to think of a solution that will benefit us all. It always does that when I think."
"The only solution is for you to leave!"
Sabre shrugged, watching the eagle. Its head turned, and its fierce golden eyes locked onto the brow band. "Maybe you're right, but I wish there was another way. Perhaps if you came back to Arlin as Tassin's mage? I've found a way for her to stop Torrian. She'll be invincible."
"How can you make her invincible? Torrian has a far larger army now. Hers was almost wiped out by the war."
The eagle stared at the cyber band. Sabre smiled. "Old weapons, mage. I have a whole pile of them in that donkey cart. Once they're installed at the Queen's castle, she'll be able to send Torrian running with his pants on fire."
Gearn chuckled. "An interesting picture you paint. I'm sure Torrian will reward me well for that information."
The eagle spread its wings and launched itself into the air, its eyes fixed on the unsuspecting mage.
"Without the Queen, there would be no point in installing them, would there?"
The eagle sailed towards the mage on silent, predatory wings.
"Still, Torrian will be interested -"
Gearn whipped around just in time to receive the eagle's attack in his face. He and the bird screamed together, a mingled shriek of pain and rage, and he released the Queen to beat at the raptor. Tassin stumbled away, turning to stare as the eagle's claws ripped into Gearn's face. Sabre reached her in two strides and pulled her aside, then took hold of the mage's robe. Gearn reeled, howling and beating at the bird whose talons gripped his face.
The cyber's hum changed pitch, and the eagle released the wizard and rose into the air with powerful strokes of its long-pinioned wings. Sabre jerked the mage towards him and crushed his skull with a punch. The thin corpse collapsed in the dust, twitching. With a grimace of disgust, Sabre turned to Tassin. Her hands were clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide. When he approached her, she flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest.
"You killed him."
"Did I have a choice? That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"It was horrible."
He patted her back. "Violent death always is, but that guy was nuts. He would have hounded us all the way back to Arlin, maybe even tried to kill you. Even if we had evaded him, Torrian would probably have killed him a lot more painfully than that. It was a better end for him; he would never have given up."
"He didn't even use any magic."
"He didn't have time. Magic seems to involve a lot of chanting and arm waving, but the eagle took him by surprise and I didn't give him time to recover."
She glanced at the corpse with a shudder, and Sabre disentangled himself and took her hand, leading her back towards the cart.
She looked up at him. "Shouldn't we bury him?"
"What's the point? It would take ages to dig a grave in this ground; it's mostly rock. And what difference does it make whether the worms eat him, or the vultures?"
She shuddered again. "It seems wrong."
"Do you think he'd have buried you? Some cultures leave their dead for the vultures on purpose; they believe the birds carry the spirit to the next world."
Tassin looked up at the eagle, which rode the thermals above them. "He was a good ally."
"Yeah. She, actually. The males are smaller."
"I knew you would find me. How did you do it?"
"One of the cyber's less useful functions, being able to see through rock. Although it can't detect life signs through it, it can map it for a limited distance."
They approached the tree to which the donkeys were tethered, and Sabre stared at it in amazement. The tree had been denuded, save for some withered leaves at the top, which the donkeys could not reach. After they had finished the leaves, they had stripped the bark, and the tree looked as if it had been the main course for a swarm of locusts. The culprits stamped and swished at flies, looking bored.
Tassin burst out laughing, her eyes shimmering with tears.
He grinned. "Makes you want to laugh and cry, doesn't it?" She nodded, wiping her eyes, and he addressed the donkeys sternly. "I can't leave you two alone for five minutes!"
She doubled over with mirth, clutching her stomach.
He shook his head at the tree. "That poor thing will never be the same again."
"Stop it, Sabre!" she said. "You'll make me bust a gut!"
Sabre chuckled, glad she had this opportunity to vent the pent-up emotions accumulated over months of adversity. The colour had returned to her cheeks and her eyes sparkled once more. He untied the donkeys and helped her, still giggling, into the cart.
Sabre made camp early that night. Tassin drooped with weariness after her ordeal in the caves, favouring her abused arm. When Sabre sat beside the fire roasting a wild chicken, the Queen opposite, she smiled at him.
"I hope that's the end of our troubles. I doubt Torrian sent anyone else after us."
"Yeah."
She poked a twig into the fire and held it up, watching the flames devour it. "We've been through a lot together." She paused, looking pensive. "Am I just a friend to you, Sabre?"
He regarded her, wondering at her strange choice of topic. "Yes, a good friend."
"Is that all?" Her brows rose.
He smiled. "What do you want?"
She met his gaze, her eyes challenging. "More than that."
"More what?"
"More than friendship."
"You'll have to be a bit more specific."
She looked away. "I thought... maybe you felt something for me."
"Again, you'll have to -"
"Don't play dumb; you know what I mean."
"I'm not sure I do, actually."
Tassin frowned at the fire. "I thought perhaps that you... might... like me more than just a friend."
"Ah. And you'd like that?"
"Yes."
"With a dirty commoner?" His smile widened. "You surprise me, My Queen. I'm only riffraff."
She raised her chin as the barb hit home. "I may do as I wish, and if I wish to flout the laws, I shall."
Sabre experienced a poignant stab of warmth in the centre of his chest, then the mocking voice shouted its derision from that dark corner of his mind. Cyborg! He shook his head, regretting his sarcasm in the face of her determined honesty.
"When we get back to Arlin, I'll be free only until the spacer returns for me. There's no way I can evade him. He'll track me down. There can never be anything more than friendship between us, Tassin. You'll only end up being hurt."
A pregnant silence fell, and he looked up to find her staring at him as if this possibility had never occurred to her before.
"That can be changed! What if -"
"No." He shook his head. "No 'what ifs'. Forget it, there's nothing you or I can do about it."
"But -"
"No 'buts', either." He smiled wryly, masking his despair with false humour as he stared into the fire. "Your future is a blank page, waiting for you to write it, but mine's already written."
Her brows drew together. "How can you be so defeatist? There must be some way of..."
"Of what?" His smile faded and he raised his eyes to meet hers. "Changing his mind? Buying me from him? Fighting him? No, there's no way. I know."
"How do you know? He's my friend. He'll do as I ask."
"No." Sabre lowered his gaze to the flames once more. "You don't understand. He can't leave me here; I'm a cyber. He's already bent the law by loaning me to you; to leave me here would be criminal. Cybers are dangerous. Their use is monitored, and their status constantly checked. Few cybers have ever disappeared, and they were destroyed, their locators deactivated. If he reports me destroyed and someone picks up my locator, he'll be punished severely, and he won't risk that. If he reports me lost, they'll track me down. Just forget it, okay?"
Tassin frowned at the fire, looking daunted, but still rebellious. Her declaration amazed him. Why would she want more with him? He was not even sure what 'more than just a friend' meant, but he was certain it was forbidden. He was not entirely human. The taunting voice in his head was right. He was only a cyborg, scarred inside and out, and incapable of most of what she craved, as far as he knew. Of course, he would never find out. He could never hope to be that human.
Tassin simply had no idea of the depths of his strangeness, and he had no intention of telling her about the terabytes of programming in his brain, some of which he occasionally glimpsed, like Sanskrit on a cave wall. It was hard to decipher, especially since he avoided looking at it. The reminder of what he truly was only depressed him. He wanted the pretence of humanity, as much as he was able, for as long as he could. Sabre inspected the chicken and found it cooked, so he tore it in two and handed half to her.
The next day, they journeyed out of the diseased area. By the afternoon the scanners detected no more radioactive spots, and the land looked healthier. A hot wind blew from the desert, and Tassin fanned herself on the cart. The evenings brought some relief, when the temperature dropped to a pleasant coolness.
Sabre trudged ahead of the donkeys, certain his brains were boiling, when he sensed the cyber's warning. The scanners showed five humans just within their range, and his suspicions surfaced again. What kind of people would live in this arid land, surrounded by radiation, so close to the desert? The five points of light approached from ahead, and he stopped the donkeys and turned to Tassin.
"There are people coming."
"Oh, good! I hope they're from a nice town. I could do with a rest, and a bath."
He shot her a glum glance. "I hope so too."
Looking deflated, she squinted ahead while the donkeys helped themselves to any greenery within reach. Five men trotted into view, and Sabre stared at them in shock. He had expected deformities, but not this bad. Tassin made a gagging sound and clapped a hand over her mouth.
The strangers slowed to a walk and approached warily, as if expecting hostility. They carried crude spears with a broad, leaf-shaped heads. Thick black or brown hair covered their exposed areas, and they wore rough, ill-fitting homespun clothes. One had a hunched back and only half a face, one side a smooth expanse of skin. Another gripped his spear with hands webbed to the last finger joint, his forearms shorter than normal. A third hobbled on a bent leg, his withered left arm hanging at his side and an extra eye staring blindly from the side of his head. The other two sported lesser deformities, which made them merely ugly, rather than grotesque. One of these stepped forward.
"Who are you?"
Sabre faced him. "Travellers."
"Why do you come to the great city of Gramman?"
"We aren't. We're going into the desert."
The man's frown wrinkled the solid ridge of black hair above his eyes. "What do you want in the desert?"
"To cross it."
"That's impossible. No one can cross the Dead Sector, it's forbidden."
Sabre shook his head, not taking his eyes from the leader's pugnacious, twisted face. "We came from there, and now we return."
"You didn't pass this way before."
"No, we took another route to the east."
The leader pondered this for several moments before reaching a decision. "You'll be welcome in the city."
"Thank you, but we'll go into the desert."
The other men muttered and shuffled their feet, hefting their spears. The leader raised a hand to silence them. "I've said that you'll be welcome in the city. Do you scorn our hospitality?"
"No, we just have no use for it. We're in a hurry."
The leader's over-large jaw jutted further. "You'll come to the city. Our priests will want to speak to you."
So there it was, Sabre thought. Not a friendly invitation, but a stipulation, just as he had suspected. "And if we refuse?"
The man smiled, revealing yellow teeth that grew at odd angles, the canines over-long. "There's only one of you and five of us."
Sabre considered the situation. He had no wish to kill or injure them, and it seemed likely that he would have to in order to pass them. Since he and Tassin had apparently strayed into an inhabited area, avoiding further confrontations might mean a long detour. The mutants did not appear to be a real danger, since they had made no attempt to attack. They seemed too simple to harbour any covert plans, and, if the priests of this tribe wished to ask a few questions, it was just a delay. Perhaps Tassin would even get her bath. These people surely had no motive to harm them.
He shrugged. "Very well. We'll come and speak to your priests, then continue on our way."
The mutant nodded. "A wise choice."
Sabre glanced at Tassin as the men turned and trotted away, catching the look of disgust and trepidation in her eyes before she hid it behind a bland smile.
Several kilometres further on, they came within sight of a pre-war city, not the town Sabre had expected. The city had been bombed, but not with nuclear weapons, and according to the scanners the radiation was within tolerable levels; enough to cause deformed children to be born, but not enough to kill. The ruined city sprawled across the hills, betraying traces of its former charms, but far beyond the glory of its youth. It had been rebuilt crudely in places, old walls patched with new, rough-hewn stone, the craters that dotted the concrete streets filled with sand.
Twisted skeletons of once proud towers remained, their glass looted. Modern materials had been used in odd ways to rebuild. Pieces of plastic helped to cover roofs, and weirdly-shaped windows had been made from sheets of shatter-proof glass. A few derelict streetlamps leant drunkenly beside the cratered streets. Warrens of huts and shanties jostled within the walls of ruined buildings, their upper floors now rubble used to weigh down the odd roofing materials employed. The overall effect was ragtag and dilapidated, a patched and broken corpse of a city.
The empty-eyed people who shambled along the streets were as slovenly as their city, dressed in coarsely-woven clothes that looked like sackcloth. They all had some sort of deformity; eyes blinded by cataracts or missing, faces disfigured by warped bones, limbs twisted and spines crippled. The most horrendous were those who appeared to have lost part of their humanity and now possessed fur or scales, walked on horny stumps or had claws instead of hands. Many bore the scars of brutal doctoring to remove growths or deformities, but the most pitiful were the crippled children who played handicapped games amongst rusted metal and crumbling walls. Tassin stared at them with wide eyes, a hand over her mouth, and it sickened Sabre to see these people still suffering for the mistakes of their forebears.
Their captors led them to a squat, bunker-like building with chunks blown out of its thick concrete walls. Sabre helped Tassin down, and the mutants' leader gestured to the polished steel doors. They entered a luridly lighted room that appeared to be a temple. Oily torches lined the walls, thickening the air with smoke, and a brazier filled with glowing coals stood before an altar that had once been nothing more than a rather ornate dining table. Atop it, a candelabrum held pots of oil with wicks set in them, and a chunk of black glass stood in front of it. Sabre stopped, his blood chilling. The mutants halted and looked at him, hefting their cumbersome spears.
"Let the girl stay outside," Sabre said.
The mutant leader frowned, a fearsome expression on his low-browed face. "Why?"
Sabre pointed at the glass. "That's dangerous. It could kill her."
"So, you're not like us."
Sabre turned as a deep female voice spoke behind him. A tall, thin woman moved out of the shadows, pushing back the hood of a coarse white robe. Her mutated features made her resemble a vulture, for she was as bald as one, and lacked any form of facial hair. A thin, hooked nose jutted between bulbous green eyes, tiny ears hugged her skull, and a receding chin added to the vulpine look. She approached him, as tall as he, and the hairy men bowed, backing away. Dismissing them with a wave, she turned to Sabre while they headed for the door.
"Grovelling fools," she commented, then studied Sabre with evident interest, her gaze lingering on the brow band. "I am Jassine, high priestess of the Nembari people. Have you a name?"
He inclined his head. "Sabre."
"You're not of our people, that's obvious. How did you pass the cursed land?"
"I avoided the radiation."
The priestess scowled, a mere puckering of the skin between her eyes. "You use the ancient word, but the curse is invisible. How could you avoid it?"
"Magic," he snapped. "Let the girl go outside. The black glass will make her sick."
Jassine glanced at Tassin. "What about you?"
"I'm immune."
"Who are you, and why have you come here?"
"We're travellers, and we were forced to come here by those grovelling fools."
"Ah." The priestess looked amused. "How do you know the words of the ancient ones?"
Sabre glanced at Tassin. "Let her go outside, and I'll answer your questions."
"Oh, very well." Jassine waved at Tassin, who hurried out, shooting him a worried look. The priestess wandered over to the altar and stroked the black glass.
"The curse is our protector. We alone are not harmed by it. Any who come here soon die once they've stood before the altar, while others perish before they reach the city. The curse is our friend."
Sabre snorted. "Some friend. Don't you know that that's why your people are deformed? Even though you don't die from it, you condemn your children to a life of suffering. As for scattering the black glass all over the place; you've made the land sick, mutated the creatures that live there, and spread the misery."
Jassine's eyes glinted with anger. "It protects us, as it did the ancient ones. No one dares to attack us; they would die."
"Who'd want to attack you? You live in a ruined city, surrounded by a wasteland of radioactivity and mutated flora and fauna. This evil didn't protect the ancient ones; it destroyed them. All you're doing is killing innocent wanderers and condemning your people to a life of mutated misery."
"Blasphemy! You dare to speak so of the ancient wise ones, who built the great cities and travelled in magical machines? You are nothing! Even the monsters dare not set foot here. While others fight wars and destroy each other, we alone will survive, for none dare attack us."
"Monsters from the Death Zone?"
The bald woman gestured in the general direction of the desert. "Yes, the monsters from out there. Fearsome creatures that our warriors have seen in the desert; that have attacked the people who dared to leave the sacred city. They paid the price for their deceit. None may leave this haven created for us by the ancient ones. It's forbidden, and they make sure the law is upheld. We see the creatures pass by, going to ravage the lands of those who don't have our protection."
Sabre considered the startling revelation that had led to this awful situation. There was no radiation inside the Death Zone, but apparently the creatures that came from there could detect it, and had enough brains to avoid it. Those that did not soon perished. The Death Zone spread its evil far and wide, and what came out of it affected every tribe he had encountered in some way. In addition, it was spreading, breeding more and more foulness to pour out and ravage the land. As long as monsters prowled outside the radioactive lands, these people would not change their ways, fearing an influx of Death Zone creatures and attack by unknown enemies. If the monsters stopped coming, they might leave this terrible place and find somewhere better to live.
It was pointless to try to change the priestess' beliefs, however. She had clearly been brought up steeped in the paranoia of the people who had survived the war and crawled out of the bomb shelters to try to rebuild their lives. They must have been convinced they would be attacked again, and had passed this terrible legacy on to their children. Now they worshipped radiation, an invisible god-like force that killed all but them, and the sense of invulnerability it imparted made up for the mutations. The people who had survived the bombs had apparently not known the holocaust had all but wiped out the rest of civilisation, and built a religion around the radioactive protection. Perhaps they would have ventured out, if not for the monsters that had appeared from the desert and effectively trapped them here. He was wasting words on her, but he had to try.
"There are few people left in the world, and those dwell in peace," he told her. "The weapons of the past no longer exist, so you have nothing to fear. At least move the radiation further from the city, so the mutations will stop. It will still repel the monsters, and the people outside won't attack you. Why should they?"
Her mouth twisted. "You lie. Ours is a flourishing society. Our forebears saved domestic animals, and we grow good crops from the seeds they stored. Many would want what we have, and the monsters will cross the radiation if it's not enough to kill them."
"I don't think they would. They're obviously wary of it. Have any come through?"
"No." She hesitated. "But that's because the curse would kill them. If they could cross the line without dying from it, they would."
They could, though, Sabre knew. If he could find his way through with Tassin and avoid the hot spots, so could the monsters. Just the presence of radiation was enough to deter them. "I don't think so. Only hapless wanderers who can't see the radiation will die from it. I came through safely with a girl who's vulnerable to it, because I can see it, like the monsters. No one will invade if you thin it and move it away. The people outside have all the things you have, and no one would want to have crippled children."
The priestess' eyes narrowed. "Not all of us are affected, some are born perfect." She clapped her hands, and a cowled man appeared from the shadows. "Bring Leat!"
The man vanished into the gloom, and the priestess paced around the altar, a slight limp making her gait clumsy. Sabre wondered how many people had suffered radiation sickness needlessly over the years. The survivors had gradually become immune, and bore immune, deformed children. After living for five hundred years in this radiation level, it no longer sickened them, but the mutations would never stop.
The priest returned, leading a beautiful, empty-eyed girl clad in a scanty gold satin top and a short skirt studded with sequins and fake jewels. Sabre wondered how often she was trotted out before the masses to prove that perfect people still existed in this sick city. Jassine stroked the girl's long yellow hair, her strange eyes glowing with pride.
"You see? There's nothing wrong with her."
Sabre studied the girl. "What happens when she goes out in the sun?"
"We don't allow her to mar her perfection by exposing her to such things."
"I'll bet. She's an albino. She lacks melanin, which makes the skin brown and protects against the sun. How clever is she?"
"She is... normal."
Sabre knew the priestess was lying even without the faint red light that flashed deep in his brain as the cyber analysed her breathing and pulse and deduced her duplicity. He stepped in front of the girl. "What's your name, girl?"
Her eyes focussed on him, and she smiled vacantly.
"She's retarded," Sabre said.
"She's a little simple," Jassine retorted.
"She has fewer brains than those donkeys outside, and she's also deaf and half blind. You call that perfect?"
The priestess made an angry gesture, and the priest led the girl away. "Physically, she's perfect. She'll breed perfect babies."
"No she won't. Her children will be as deformed as anyone else's. You should leave this place and breed with normal people, then perhaps one day your people will have normal children."
"Enough of this. Tell me how you came to be immune to the curse, but your woman is not?"
Sabre sighed, folding his arms. It was a long story, and there was nowhere to sit.
Tassin waited on the cart, growing as impatient as the stamping, fidgeting donkeys. What was happening inside? She chewed on a cooked root she had peeled, to kill time. The five men stood at the corner of the building beside her in a muttering group. None of them glanced in her direction, and she wished Sabre would hurry up. She wanted to leave this dreadful city as soon as possible. The sight of the mutants made her ill with pity and horror.
A furtive movement at the corner of a building further down the street caught her eye. A child peeped around the edge, and, when Tassin looked in her direction, beckoned. Tassin glanced at the men, who still lounged against the wall, oblivious. Easing herself off the cart, she wandered in the child's direction, trying to look nonchalant.
The girl, glancing past her at the guards, signalled her to be quick, and Tassin slipped around the corner. The child took her wrist and pulled her to a nearby hovel, ducking inside. Tassin had to bend double to follow, stumbling over the rubbish on the floor. The girl towed Tassin through the dwelling into a narrow passage, then through another shack whose residents watched them pass incuriously. Tassin stopped, forcing the child to halt.
"Wait! Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"To safety! Hurry!"
"But -" Tassin gasped as the girl yanked her forward again with surprising strength. The child appeared to be about twelve, with a hunched back, short, patchy brown hair, and a twisted leg. Tassin followed her through a warren of shacks, nodding embarrassedly to the people who watched them pass, until at last the girl stopped and turned to her.
"Now we're safe," she stated.
"Safe from whom?"
"The priestess. She'll want to kill you."
Tassin's mouth fell open. "Why?"
The girl shrugged, settling on a pile of sacks. She wore a dirty knee-length dress made from the same coarse homespun material as everyone else. "Because you're outsiders; they don't tolerate them."
"They?"
"The priests." The imp sighed theatrically, folding her arms. "All those who make it through the curse are killed at the altar."
Tassin leant against the wall, weak-kneed. The low roof forced her to stoop. "Why did you rescue me?"
The urchin's face twisted with a mixture envy and admiration. "You're pretty. I never saw someone so pretty before. I wish I looked like you do."
"You poor thing. Where's your mother?"
"Dead."
"Who takes care of you?"
The girl smiled. "No one. I look after myself."
Tassin eased herself onto the floor, rubbing her neck to relieve the crick that had developed in it. "What's your name?"
"Dena."
"I'm Tassin."
Dena leant forward. "Where are you from?"
Tassin related an abbreviated tale of her journey, and what had started it all. When she finished, Dena was rapt.
"I'm glad I rescued you. Will you take me with you when you go back to your land? It sounds so nice."
Tassin smiled. "Of course we will."
A black look came over the girl's face. "Will people stare and laugh at me?"
"No. You're not that different, and there are people who are crippled in my land too."
Dena beamed, and Tassin hoped she was right. The girl's brown eyes were too large, but that made her quite pretty when combined with her pointed chin and gamin features.
A thought struck the Queen. "Will they try to kill Sabre?"
Dena frowned. "Who?"
"The man I came with."
"Of course. They'll make him touch the black glass, and he'll die."
"No, he won't."
Dena looked perplexed. "He's like us?"
"Sort of. He comes from the stars; the curse won't harm him."
"From the stars? Like the others!" Dena's eyes brightened.
Tassin cocked her head. "Others?"
"Yes! My mother told me; it happened long before I was born. A man came. He was beautiful, perfect, like you. He said he was from the stars, and he was taken to the temple, but he never came out; not even his body. The curse wouldn't kill him, so the priests did it instead. Then, months later, another man came; he had a light on his head. He wasn't afraid of the glass, and he also vanished."
Tassin frowned. Another cyber? How had they been able to kill him? Cold fear crept through her. If they had already killed a cyber, they might be able to kill Sabre too. She looked at Dena, who watched her.
"Will you help us? I must free Sabre."
The child shrugged. "What can I do? He's already in the temple, and I can't go in there."
Tassin pondered. Somehow, she had to get into the temple and warn him without being caught. "You're sure they'll kill him?"
"Oh yes. It's the law. No outsiders may leave the city, or they'll give away its location to our enemies. They're also not allowed to live amongst us and flaunt their perfection. Only Leat is perfect, and she's one of us. So they must die."
The Queen chewed her lip. Maybe Sabre would become suspicious and escape without her help. Perhaps she need only wait, and not risk falling into the priests' hands. He would be furious if she got into trouble again. Perhaps this time she should heed his advice. Surely he would smell a trap?
Sabre smelt incense. One of the hooded priests came in and threw it on the brazier while he was talking to the priestess. It had a pleasant aroma, relaxing. He had finished his tale, and now answered Jassine's numerous questions, some of which seemed pointless, but she was far friendlier. Tassin would probably be annoyed at being made to wait for so long, he mused, but soon the priestess would run out of questions and then they could leave. His long monologue had dried his throat, and when a priest came in with two glasses of red wine, he accepted one.
A red warning light flashed deep in his mind, drawing his attention inwards to a scrolling column of data. It informed him that the wine contained an unknown substance, possibly a poison. That the cyber was unable to identify it was strange, but it was not the first time he had encountered an unknown substance on this planet. This one, however, was not the same as what the Oroka had used to subdue him. He raised the glass to his lips, but did not drink the wine.
Jassine sipped hers, smiling. They still stood near the altar, and he wondered if she thought he was lying about his immunity to it, for she seemed to like hanging around the radioactive glass. She asked a few more questions, and he found that he was strangely relaxed, considering the situation. Glancing down at his glass, he discovered it was half empty and cursed his inattention. Something was making him unwary, and he wondered if the incense was also a narcotic.
This would probably be a good time to head for the door, he reflected, yet he could not summon the energy to act on the thought. What was even stranger than his lack of motivation was his inability to perceive any danger in the situation. It all seemed quite acceptable, despite the alarm bells ringing in his mind along with the cyber's flashing lights. It had succeeded in partially analysing the substance, which appeared to be a mild sedative. He answered another question, and noticed that his speech was slurred. Surely he could not be drunk after one glass of wine? It must be potent stuff, maybe five hundred years old, from the pre-war civilisation. A cold spurt of logic intruded, reminding him of the sedative, yet still he could not formulate a reaction to it. He caught his wandering thoughts and concentrated on what the priestess was saying.
"...Old machines and weapons from before the war, stored in a room downstairs, would you like to see it?"
Sabre shrugged. "Sure."
Replacing the glass on the tray, he followed Jassine into the shadows whence the priests had periodically emerged, parting musty curtains to enter an oil lamp-lighted corridor. Priests flitted past like cowled ghosts, their heads bowed and faces shadowed. Once again, he wondered why he did not find the situation alarming. The priestess led him around two corners and down a flight of steps, then opened a steel door and entered a room carrying an oil lamp she had filched from the wall outside. Placing the lamp on a table, she turned and smiled at him.
"What do you think?"
Sabre looked around at what must have once been a computer room. Dusty consoles lined the walls and terminals cluttered the tables, keyboards before them. He wandered over to a bank of old-fashioned radar screens next to what looked like a firing console. This had been the city's nerve centre, he surmised, the control room that housed all the tactical defence equipment. He turned to the priestess, and found himself alone. The oil lamp still flickered on the table, but the door through which they had entered was closed.
Sabre stared at it, puzzled, then went over to it and discovered that the inside handle had been removed. The door was flush with the wall, and the hairline cracks around its perimeter were far too narrow to insert anything into to pry it open. For a minute he pondered it, the sedative fogging his mind, making it impossible to think straight. He nodded.
They were trying to kill him. The thought burst upon him like a gas bubble in a quagmire, leaving an equally bad stench. The altar stone killed all who made it through the cursed lands, but he was immune, so she had locked him in here to starve. He recalled that the open door had been at least ten centimetres thick, designed to survive a nuclear attack. Sabre shook his head to try to clear the numbness that clouded his thinking. He still had the laser, but that was useless against a ten-centimetre-thick steel door.
Even with the two extra power packs, it would probably only melt through about five centimetres of steel in a circle big enough for him to climb through. Turning away, he studied the room. A command centre had to have ventilation, for people spent days or even weeks in here during an attack, controlling the defences.
His eyes came to rest on an air vent in the opposite wall, but it was only about ten centimetres in diameter. So, air vents were out, but there had to be at least one emergency escape route, in case the enemy breached the control centre. He consulted the cyber's information. The room's structural analysis showed six air vents that led to the surface, filled with numerous filters and scrubbers. There were three extractor fans and three blowers, all non-functional. That meant he would not die of starvation, but asphyxiation. He studied the analysis again, and found an escape hatch situated in the far corner, behind a cabinet.
Going over to it, he noticed that the cabinet had already been moved aside, and stopped in shock when he stepped around it. Two skeletons grinned up at him. One was a cyber. The barrinium-plated bones gleamed dull gold in the flickering light, and the dead brow band was black. He contemplated his identical twin's bones. The tough harness and trousers still clung to them, and the wrist laser and cannon hung around a skeletal wrist. The explosives attached to the harness were no use in this room; he would only succeed in injuring himself. Had the cyber released its host before he died? Had he known a brief moment of freedom, or had he lost consciousness before the control unit had failed, and never been able to as much as cry out in despair?
Wrenching his mind from the morbid thoughts, he studied the second skeleton's expensive silver shirt and shiny grey trousers, the sort rich young fops favoured, a useless laser holstered in its belt. Some young fool bent on adventure and exploration, no doubt, ignorant of the fact that primitive people could be dangerous, especially post-holocaust people. Clearly the cyber had been sent to search for him, and had fallen into the same trap. A cyber, however, would not have drunk the drugged wine. They only consumed water, and he would have detected the sedative too.
Cybers were not stupid, so how had the priestess lured him in here? Certainly not with the same ruse she had used on Sabre, for cybers had no curiosity. She must have told him that the man he sought was here. The cyber would have asked about him and described him, and would have wanted to leave as soon as he was told that his quarry was not there. So, she must have told him the truth, brought him here and told him to search the room, then locked him in. The bones were approximately twenty years old, according to the scanners, and Jassine appeared to be about fifty, so she could be responsible.
The dead cyber had possessed the same structural information Sabre did, yet he had failed to escape. Stepping closer, Sabre examined the circular emergency escape hatch set into the floor. The handle that activated the high-tensile steel bars that slotted into the concrete on either side of it was sheared off. Cold fear crept through him. There was no way out. In a few hours the air would grow stale, and his barrinium-plated bones would join the pile.
Slumping against the cabinet, he cursed his stupidity. Now they would take Tassin to the altar and let the radiation do their dirty work. She would be dead within a week or so. He had failed again, he thought bitterly, because he had tried to be a nice guy. The thought of Tassin paying for his mistake made his chest ache. He should have refused when the mutants had insisted he come to the city. The cyber would never have agreed to come here, and it would have killed the mutant men if they had tried to force the issue.
The oil lamp sputtered and went out, and the cyber automatically switched his vision to infrared. He wondered how much time he had wasted pondering his fate, and how much remained before his breathing quickened as the oxygen level dropped. Asphyxiation was not a pleasant death, nor was the radiation poisoning Tassin faced.
Tassin paced Dena's hovel, waiting for her to return. The girl had left saying that she would bring food, but Tassin was not sure it was safe to eat the mutants' food. The shadows outside lengthened and darkened, and she was worried about Sabre. He would not make her wait until after dark, and if he had emerged and found her gone, he might be searching for her now. She should probably go back to the temple and see if he was there, but she had no idea how to find it. The city was a warren of shacks built within the old ruins, cramped passages linking them. She would have to wait for Dena. That decided, Tassin fretted for her return.
Dena reappeared an hour later, and Tassin wanted to simultaneously hug and spank the girl, who seemed wary, as if sensing this. Tassin controlled the urges with an effort and confronted her.
"Did you find out anything? Sabre could be waiting for me by the cart. Perhaps I should go back and look?"
Dena shook her head as she dumped a sack of shrivelled vegetables on the rickety table. "He's not there, I checked. The cart's gone too. They must have put it somewhere, and they're looking for you."
Tassin's heart sank. "What's happened to him?"
"I'd guess whatever happened to the star man, and the other man with a light on his head."
"We must free him."
The child looked up from peeling vegetables. "Maybe he's already dead. Forget him. We'll go to your land without him."
"No!" Tassin knelt beside the child, wanting to shake the little brat until her teeth rattled. "Dena, we need him. We'll never make it across the desert without him."
Dena nibbled a raw carrot. "But the priests have got him, and we'll never get in there. And what if he's already dead?"
"He's very hard to kill. If they attacked him, they wouldn't stand a chance. But they've killed a cyber before, so they must have a way, only they're all slow ways. Poison, suffocation, gas... they wouldn't have gas... drowning... but there's not much water around."
Dena munched her carrot. "Some poisons are quick."
Tassin shot her an acid look. "You're not helping."
The child shrugged. "It's true."
"How can we get into the temple?"
"We can't."
"Come on, there must be a way."
Dena shook her head. "Only the priests and priestesses go in the temple."
"That's it!"
Dena eyed her. "What's it?"
"I need a priestess' robe."
Dena laughed, her mouth full of carrot. "How will you get that?"
Tassin frowned, thinking. "I need a weapon. Do you know where the cart is?"
"No."
"Can you find out?"
Dena shrugged again. "Probably."
"Will you?"
"Okay, when I've had my dinner."
Tassin glanced at the pile of raw vegetables. "You're going to eat all those?"
Dena nodded.
"Can't you eat when you get back?"
"I'm hungry!"
Tassin leant forward. "Listen to me, Dena. Sabre could be dying, right now, and without him we can't cross the desert. It's impossible. The curse would kill us -- me, and there are monsters too. If we don't save him we're stuck here, and you'll have to keep hiding me. If they find out you've been hiding me, they'll punish you, won't they?"
Dena's eyes narrowed. "I could throw you out."
"I would tell."
"They wouldn't believe you."
"I know your name; I know where you live, and people saw you bring me here."
Dena considered, then gave a hearty sigh, picked up another carrot and stomped out. Tassin settled down to wait, worry gnawing at her.
Sabre studied the glowing hole in the escape hatch, which had used up two power packs already. The dead cyber's laser was empty, as was the spacer's, and they only had one spare power pack between them. The hole was still too small to get his hand into, and he plugged the second to last power pack into the laser. May as well go out with a bang instead of a whimper, he thought. The laser burnt oxygen, but it made little difference. Either he got out, or he died.
Aiming the weapon at the hole, he held the trigger and moved the beam around its edge. The searing light melted the high-tensile alloy, and molten metal dripped into the tunnel below. No fresh air blew in through it, so the other end was also sealed, and he hoped it was not buried under a pile of rubble. The hole gradually enlarged, but the metal had a high melting point and it took a long time.
A laser was not designed for cutting metal. For that, you needed a needle-gun, with a beam so fine it would slice a hole in no time. The laser's more diffuse beam was intended to burn holes in living flesh. A needle-gun could be used as a weapon, but only to slice a victim in half, or chop off some vital extremity. If fired at a man like a laser, it would burn a tiny hole right through him, and, unless it hit a vital organ, like the heart or aorta, the victim would hardly notice he had been shot.
Burning a hole in the escape hatch was a long shot, anyway. He might put his hand through it and find there was no way of opening it from the other side either, but there was no reason to shear off the outer handle. According to the cyber's information on tactical control bunker design, the tunnel would run for more than the five hundred metres, and if a bomb had fallen anywhere along its length, he was dead.
After a five minute burn, the power pack gave out. Sabre inspected the glowing hole, which was bigger, but it would still be a tight squeeze. He may as well use the last power pack, he decided. If this did not work, he would have no use for it, anyway. The escape hatch was only six centimetres thick; he could not have burnt a hole this size in the main door. When the last pack died, he inspected the glowing hole again. It looked big enough, just. Now all he had to do was wait for it to cool. He leant against the cabinet and gazed at his grinning companions. Lethargy made him yawn.
Tassin glanced up at the patter of running feet. Dena appeared, looking cross, and Tassin confronted her when she scuttled into the room.
"Did you find out anything?"
"Of course!" Dena flounced over to the table and resumed her meal. "The cart is in an empty shack, and the donkeys are in another one next to it."
"Are the weapons still in it?"
"Those tubes? Yeah."
"Good. Now we just have to get one."
"You mean I have to go back there?" Dena looked incredulous.
Tassin's cheeks warmed with embarrassment at her oversight. "I should have told you to bring one..."
Dena grinned and dug in her coarse dress, producing a gleaming laser with the flourish of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
"You clever girl!" Tassin exclaimed.
The Queen took the weapon and studied it. How did it work? Buttons. Yes, there were two buttons on the side, one red, and one green. Why two? Her brow furrowed. There was only one way to find out. Pointing the weapon at the floor, she screwed up her eyes and pressed the green button. It clicked. Okay, it was the other one. She pressed the red button with identical results, and stared at the weapon in confusion. Dena giggled.
"It needs this." She dug in her dress again and produced a cylindrical power pack.
"Oh!" Tassin scowled. "How do you know?"
"There's a shed full of these things on the far side of town, all sorts, some different from that one. Us kids play there sometimes."
"Play there? These are dangerous!"
Dena nodded. "I know. A boy was killed; that's how we found out."
Tassin stared at her, horrified, then held out the laser. "You do it then. You know what to do."
The child deftly fitted the power pack into a slot in the weapon's grip and turned it so Tassin could see the two buttons. "The green one's the safety; it must be pushed down, or the thing won't work. The red one's the trigger." She handed it to Tassin, who took it as if it was a poisonous snake.
"The safety's on. It's harmless now," Dena assured her.
Tassin put the laser gingerly on the table, making sure it was not pointing at either of them. "Okay, now how do we get a priest to come here?"
"What for?"
"So we can make him tell us where Sabre is."
"Oh, that's easy. I just tell him there's a baby born here."
Tassin looked uncertain. "Why would that make him come?"
"They always inspect new babies. If they're too badly twisted, they kill them."
Tassin swallowed bile. "Okay. Will you do that?"
"After I've eaten."
"Now."
Dena grimaced. "I knew you'd say that."
Tassin smiled as the girl flounced out again. She hoped her plan would work, but it was sketchy at best.
Sabre jerked awake, annoyed to find himself nodding off. Returning to the escape hatch, he inspected the hole, which had cooled. Easing his hand into it, he groped towards the centre of the hatch. The handle had to be there; a blunt nub flattened on the sides. When turned, it pulled back the four high-tensile steel rods that fastened the hatch. His groping fingers found it, but it was difficult to grasp, for his wrist was bent at an acute angle to reach it. Although he twisted it as hard as he could, it remained solid. Cursing, he withdrew his hand. He would have to push his arm through, to the shoulder if he could. That would give him more leverage.
It was a tight squeeze, and the sharp edges took several layers of skin off his biceps, but he succeeded. He groped for the knob again and found it, then used all his strength. The edge of the hole cut into his arm as his muscles bulged, and the knob turned a fraction. A smile tugged at his lips. A little more and he would be out. He strained. The rim cut deeper into his arm, and blood ran down it to drip off his elbow. His fingers flamed with pain from the amount of pressure he exerted, but the knob remained solid no matter how hard he twisted. Withdrawing his bloody arm, he sat back. The skeletons grinned at his defeat, and he chuckled.
"What are you two laughing at?"
Catching himself, he sobered. The first symptom of asphyxiation was delirium. The situation was far from funny. Be rational. Okay, the damned thing was jammed. Find something heavy and bang it. Rising to his feet, he went in search of an object to use as a hammer.
Tassin listened to the approaching patter of feet. A heavier, slower tread accompanied them, and she gripped the laser in sweaty hands.
"In here, Exalted," Dena's piping voice said.
A tall, albino priest ducked into the hovel and straightened in surprise, banging his head on the roof. He rubbed his bald pate, his pink eyes riveted to the laser Tassin pointed waveringly at his chest.
"Do you know what this is?" she asked, trying to act fearsome.
The priest nodded, his mouth open.
"Tell me where the man with the lights on his head is, or I'll blow your leg off."
"Head," Dena corrected.
"No, leg. He can't talk without a head."
"He may not have legs; a lot of people don't."
Tassin frowned at her. "He can walk."
"They have false ones."
"Oh." Tassin waved the laser at the priest, who looked from one to the other with growing panic. "Do you have real legs?"
The man nodded.
"Right, tell me where the man with the lights on his head is, or I'll blow one off."
"The - the high priestess took him to the room," he stammered.
"What room?" Tassin demanded. Dena munched her supper again.
The priest said, "The one with the machines."
Tassin scowled. "Tell me where it is! I don't know any room with machines in it."
The priest made a vague gesture. "From the altar room, you go down a passage, turn left, then right, down some steps, and it's the big door in front of you."
"Where's the key?"
"Key?"
Tassin snorted. The man was a simpleton. "The key to the door!"
"There's no key. It's a combination."
"Combination?"
"It's a special lock; you turn the dial to unlock the door."
Tassin glanced at Dena, who shrugged. "Okay. What's the combination?"
The priest shook his head. "I don't know. Only the high priestess knows the combination. I don't, I swear! Don't hurt me -"
"Shut up." Tassin considered the problem. "What's the door made of?"
"St - steel." The priest gulped.
"How thick?"
The man held his hands up, about twelve centimetres apart.
"Damn! Too thick for a... for this. What about the wall next to it?"
The priest moved his hands almost half a metre apart.
Tassin remembered Sabre's tirade after she had brought the walkway down on her head. The pretty blue gun she had found there was designed to destroy matter.
"A sonlar," she muttered.
"Huh?" Dena looked up, her mouth full.
"That's what we need." She turned back to the terrified priest. "Unless your priestess values you enough to release Sabre in exchange for your life?"
He shook his head. "She'd kill me herself."
"Just as I thought." Tassin looked at the munching child. "Dena, did you ever see a pretty blue crystal thing in that shed?"
A frown puckered the child's forehead. "I'm not sure; maybe."
"I need one."
"Now?"
Tassin nodded, and Dena pulled a face, her cheeks bulging. "That's all the way across the city. It'll take ages!"
"Do you want to come across the desert with me?"
The girl nodded.
"Then I need one of those pretty blue crystal things, and fast."
Dena sighed. "I bet he's dead already."
"You better hope he's not."
"No! He isn't!" the priest said. "It will take a few more hours."
Tassin glared at him. "Thanks for the titbit. I think you've outlived your usefulness. Take off your robe."
He fell to his knees. "No! Ple-please, please, don't kill me! Please, I beg you!"
She regarded him contemptuously. "Get up and take off your robe."
The priest obeyed, his expression despairing. Underneath it he wore a pair of baggy shorts, and one of his legs was twisted and withered. He stared at the floor, cringing. Now that she had reached the crucial moment, however, Tassin was unable to push the button and end his life. It was easy when someone else did it for you. She glanced at Dena, who watched her, wide-eyed.
"Get some rope."
"You're not going to kill him?"
"No, we'll tie him up."
Dena blinked, then went and rummaged amongst the rubbish in a corner, emerging with some stout leather thongs. The priest sobbed his gratitude while she tied his hands behind his back, then they made him sit in a corner and bound his legs. When he was trussed, Tassin turned to Dena.
"Will you go now?"
Dena heaved a sigh. "Go here, go there, fetch this, bring that!"
Tassin smiled. "This is the last time, I promise."
Dena turned and flounced out again.
"Good girl!" Tassin called after her.
Sitting down on Dena's pile of sacking, Tassin eyed the bound priest, hoping the girl would find a sonlar.
Sabre pounded on the escape hatch with a wrench he had found in one of the cabinets. The intense clanging hurt his sensitive ears, and it was rapidly giving him a headache. He stopped to rest, sweat beading his brow. He panted and his heart raced from the slight exertion, which meant the air was getting bad. He had been trying to unjam the escape hatch for what seemed like hours, maybe it had been hours.
At first, he had administered a few taps and tried to turn the knob. Then he had hit it harder, and tried again. Now his arm was badly lacerated, and he pounded at the hatch with all his might. Easing his bloody arm through the hole, he tried the knob again, but it remained solid. Maybe, when they had sheared off the inside knob, they had damaged the mechanism. He strained, veins bulging on his temples. Nothing. Sliding his arm out, he gripped the edge of the hole and tugged at it like a demented ape with its hand glued to the floor, roaring with rage and frustration. The hatch did not even rattle.
Releasing it, he flopped down on his back, gasping. His vision swam, and pretty lights floated before his eyes. How long did he have left? He consulted the cyber's information, but there was nothing useful there. His bio-status had dropped considerably and his blood-oxygen level was low, but that was no news to him. Perhaps, if he found a long, strong bar, he could put it in the hole and lever the damn thing up. No, that was a silly idea, the hatch was too strong. A weird notion of dousing himself in oil and squeezing through the hole entered his mind, and he realised that he was going off the deep end. Would he die a raving lunatic?
Tassin fidgeted. Dena had been gone for ages, and the Queen could not shake off a growing sense of urgency. The priest had said that Sabre had a bit more time, but how much? She scowled at him.
"How much longer does he have?"
He looked up, startled from his gloom. "I'm not sure. It depends on what he's been doing. If he's been exerting himself, not long, if not, maybe another hour or so."
Tassin cursed under her breath. Where the hell was that little brat? "What's happening to him? What's he dying of?"
"Lack of air. He's in an airtight room."
She groaned. Asphyxiation. "How did you get him in there?"
"The priestess tricked him."
"No violence."
The priest grimaced. "We hate violence."
"But not killing."
"It's necessary."
She snorted. "We're just a couple of harmless travellers. Why must we be killed?"
The man shifted. "You would lead armies to us. Tell them what we have."
"Rubbish! What have you got, apart from a horrible disease, and who would want that?"
The priest looked confused. "What disease?"
"The deformities! Maybe disease is not the right word, but whatever you call it, it's horrible."
"It's not a disease."
"But it is a sickness," she retorted.
"Of a sort... I suppose."
Tassin glared. "I, for one, wouldn't live anywhere near this place if you paid me. There are beautiful places to live, like my kingdom, Arlin. Green fields, vast forests, plenty of game, herds of cattle, sheep and horses, crops of vegetables. Everything anyone could wish for. Why would I want to live here?"
He stared at her, wide-eyed. "Truly? But you have wars, don't you?"
"No, we don't. Everyone has enough, why would we fight?" Tassin winced inwardly at the lie. Certainly there were no wars due to a lack of food or land, only those caused by power-hungry kings.
"That's not what we were told. We -"
He broke off as Dena scurried in. Tassin jumped up, banged her head on the roof and sat down again, swearing. Dena grinned, and Tassin forced a smile.
"Did you find it?"
Dena dug in her dress and pulled out a glittering blue crystal sonlar with a flourish. Tassin flung her arms around the startled child. "You're an angel! When we get to Arlin, I shall adopt you. You'll be a princess!"
"Really?" Dena pulled away, grinning.
Tassin nodded. "For saving the man I..." She gulped. Love? No, not love. Care for, admire, am indebted to. Not love. "...Need to get us across the desert," she finished lamely.
Dena handed her the sonlar. "It's loaded, so be careful."
"I know." Tassin held the weapon gingerly.
Dena sat on her pile of rags. "What now?"
"Now I have to put on this man's smelly robe and go rescue Sabre."
Tucking the sonlar into her belt, she picked up the robe, grimacing at its pungent odour, and pulled it over her head. "Well, at least I smell like one of them," she muttered. "Dena, you watch him. If he tries to escape, shoot him. I'll leave you the laser."
"You're coming back?" Dena sounded uncertain.
Tassin stroked the girl's dirty, patchy hair. "Of course I am. I wouldn't leave you behind after all that you've done. Loyalty must always be rewarded. When I come back, you must be ready to leave. If you want to take anything, put it in a bundle and be ready, okay?"
"Okay."
Tassin turned to leave, then swung back. "How do I get to the temple?"
Dena giggled. "Go straight out, turn right at the yellow plastic, follow the passage until you reach the street, then turn right again, and you'll see the temple."
The Queen nodded and ducked out of the hovel. Following the child's directions, she hurried along the empty streets until she came to the squat, ugly building. It had to be nearly dawn, and the temple door was unguarded. It creaked when she pushed it open, and she tiptoed through the altar room, keeping as far from the piece of black glass as she could. She groped along the wall until she found the door, and slipped into the corridor. A quick glance around assured her that it was empty. A few torches sputtered on the smooth, pale walls, but most had gone out.
Following the priest's directions, she crept down the corridor, the hood pulled over her head in case she met a wandering cleric suffering from an attack of insomnia. Turn left, turn right, down the steps. She faced a steel door. In the middle of it was the combination lock the priest had mentioned, a round thing with numbers on it. The door looked solid, if nothing else, embedded about eight centimetres into the concrete wall. Would the sonlar be able to destroy it? She bit her lip.
Once she pushed the button, all hell would break loose, and then she would not have time to rectify any mistakes. Should she shoot the door, or the wall? The wall was thicker, but the door stronger. She opted for the wall, hoping Sabre would be ready to spring into action as soon as she had made a hole. Taking a few steps back, she wondered how far away she should be. Not too close, but not too far, either. Recalling Sabre's description of the sonlar's ability to destroy matter, she really did not want to be included in the mess. She decided on about three metres.
For a while she fidgeted, wiped her sweaty palms on her hips, licked her lips and shifted her feet, brushed back her hair and scratched non-existent itches. She checked the weapon for the umpteenth time, then pushed the green button that made the little blue light flash and the panel light up. It said 'armed'. Calming herself with an effort, she allowed her determination to free Sabre to prod her cowering courage out of its dark corner.
Pointing the sonlar in the general direction of the wall, she turned her head aside and screwed her eyes shut, wishing she had enough hands to block her ears too. Gingerly she pushed the button. It clicked. Surprised, Tassin examined the weapon. Was Dena mistaken? Perhaps it was not loaded. The sliding buttons she had played with on the other sonlar were at one end of their grooves. Which end had they been when she had destroyed the walkway? She pushed them to the other end, then repeated her preparations and pressed the button.
The concussion lifted her off her feet and flung her down the corridor. She sprawled, skinned her elbows and banged her head on the bottom step. Her ears rang from the monstrous boom, and a cloud of dust engulfed her, making her cough. Struggling to her feet, she staggered forward, her head ringing like a bell tower with a demented priest loose in it. Her elbows stung and her head throbbed. The blast had blown out all the torches, leaving her in utter darkness, and she reeled up the steps, groping for a torch around the corner. Finding one, she wobbled back down, holding it out to see the result of her handiwork.
A two-metre hole had been blown in the wall, surrounded by a pile of gravel, all that remained of the reinforced concrete. With a hoarse crow of delight, Tassin climbed through it to search the dust-filled room beyond.
"Sabre!" she whispered, then wondered why she was whispering when she had just made enough noise to wake the dead. "Sabre!"
Tassin coughed and gasped. Odd shapes loomed in the torch's light, the flickering flames making the shadows move. Weird square objects lined the walls, and a few strange things stood on the tables. Gravel and chunks of plaster had ripped through the room, splintered the shabby tables and punched holes in the odd equipment, some of which lay smashed on the floor. Where the hell was he?
"Sabre! Answer me!"
Do not let him be dead, she prayed. It was not just because she needed him to traverse the desert; it was more than that, but she refused to label the emotion that twisted her heart. Holding the torch out, she searched the floor between the square things. He had to be here somewhere, unless this was the wrong room. Had the priest lied? Had the blast killed Sabre? Fear squeezed her heart, making her breath catch. Perhaps using the sonlar had not been such a good idea.
Why had she not considered the possibility that the blast might hurt him, too? She cursed her stupidity, but she had not expected quite so much destruction. Her eyes fell on something that gleamed golden, and she peered at it. A metal-plated skeleton with a brow band lay in the corner, another, normal skeleton under it. Her stomach knotted, and she turned away and tripped over something, sprawling with a yelp. Scrambling away from it, she held the torch closer to see what it was.
"Sabre!"
The cyber looked dead, his eyes closed and mouth slightly open. His chest rose and fell in deep breaths, however, and his brow band was full of flashing red lights.
She gripped his arm and shook him. "Sabre, wake up!"
His head lolled to the side, and his skin was slippery with blood. She released him and wiped it off on her robe, her heart heavy with dread. Could the cyber hear her, even if Sabre could not?
"Cyber, I order you to wake him up!"
The brow band flashed more brilliantly, and she held her breath as she watched Sabre's peaceful face. Distant shouts came from the corridor, and the slap of running, sandaled feet. She put her hand on Sabre's shoulder and shook him again, causing his head to loll from side to side. Lights appeared beyond the hole, and surprised exclamations followed, then several white-robed priests clambered through the gap. Reaching across Sabre, she picked up the sonlar, which she had dropped when she had tripped over him. Pointing it shakily at the advancing priests, she said, "Stay back, or I'll blow you away!"
The men halted, staring at the weapon. A commotion came from the back of the group as the hairless priestess pushed her way to the front. The woman eyed Tassin with a triumphant smirk.
"So, little fool," she sneered, "you came to rescue your friend. How sweet! Except he's already on his way out, and you've got an appointment with a nice piece of black glass."
Tassin aimed the sonlar at her and put down the torch to shake Sabre with her other hand. "You take one more step, and you're dead. You see that hole in the wall? This is what made it, and if it can do that to stone, imagine what it can do to you."
The priestess snorted. "You haven't got the guts to kill anyone. I can see the fear in your eyes; I can smell it!" She signalled to the priests. "Get her!"
Two men approached Tassin, splitting up to come at her from opposite directions. She pointed the sonlar at one and kept an eye on the other.
"Don't come any closer, I'm warning you! I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to."
The priests hesitated, but came on, apparently fearing the priestess more than a dirty girl armed with a modern weapon. More fool them, Tassin thought, although the prospect of using the sonlar again made her cold inside. It was them or her. If they got to her, she and Sabre were dead. Aiming the sonlar at the man's chest, she closed her eyes and pressed the button. This time there was less concussion with the flash of blinding light and huge boom.
Tassin opened her eyes and stared at the spot where the man had been. He was gone, but the wall beyond was covered with blood and shredded meat, and a metre-deep hole was blasted in it, revealing fresh brown soil. Everyone gaped at it, for the wall was at least seven metres from where she knelt. Recovering first, she whipped around and levelled the weapon at the second man, who backed away, raising his hands. The priestess drew herself up.
"So, I underestimated you, but I doubt you'll kill all of us, and we will not let you pass."
Tassin glared at her. "Don't make the same mistake twice."
Reaching down to shake Sabre again, she was startled when her hand was gripped, and glanced at him. He gazed at her with a faint smile, and her heart swelled with relief. A powerful urge to hug him almost overcame her, but she restrained herself, watching the bevy of priests.
"When did you wake up?" she enquired.
"The big bang woke me."
The priests cast furtive looks at the priestess, who scowled. Sabre raised himself onto an elbow and eyed the sonlar.
"I see you found another one of those pretty things to play with."
She smiled. "It's quite handy."
"That's what it's meant for." He sat up, looking groggy as he glanced at the holes and the wall covered with gore. "Now that's what I call overkill."
"I had nothing else."
"You certainly made sure of it." He held out his hand for the sonlar and she gladly gave it to him, dismayed when he tucked it into his harness.
"What about them?" She indicated the priests.
Sabre stood up, pulling her to her feet. "I suspect they know better than to attack me, from past experience."
Tassin glanced at the cyber skeleton with a shudder, noticing the blood-smeared escape hatch beyond it. "They killed the last one."
"Only by luring him in here, but I think they tried another method, which failed. Am I right, Jassine?"
The priestess nodded. "He was too strong for us, unlike the first man, but my predecessor told him that what he sought was in here, and he fell for it. He wasn't very clever."
"Cybers are logical, and he had to investigate every clue. He found what he was looking for."
Jassine's eyes glittered with impotent rage as Sabre approached her, and the priests shuffled out of his way.
"You will not escape! I'll find a way to stop you!" she said.
"Why bother?" he asked. "We're going back across the desert, never to return."
"You lie! You'll bring our enemies upon us!"
He shrugged, clearly running out of patience. "Think what you will, we're leaving."
The priestess blocked his way until the last possible moment before stepping aside. Tassin glanced back as they walked towards the steps. Jassine muttered to the priests, who nodded. They were plotting something, Tassin was certain.
"So what's the plan?" Sabre asked.
"Plan?"
"To get out of the city."
"Oh!" She shook her head. "I hadn't thought of one."
He smiled. "Then we'd better think fast."
As they passed through the altar room, Sabre stayed between her and the black glass, then, to her immense relief, they were outside in the fresh, chill morning air. She shucked the smelly robe and headed for Dena's hovel.
"Where are we going?" he enquired.
"There's a little girl who helped me. I have to find her first; she knows where the cart and donkeys are."
Sabre followed her into the first low-roofed shack. A furtive movement made her jump, and Dena appeared at her elbow.
"There you are!" Tassin said. "You scared me half to death!"
The girl grinned. "You're scared of me?"
"No, I didn't realise -- oh, never mind. Take us to the cart, quick!"
Dena eyed Sabre, looking coquettish. "You're the man from the stars."
The cyber smiled. "That's right."
Dena grinned at him, then led them along the street, forgoing the hovel route. She guided them to a shack where the cart was parked, unattended. Sabre brought the donkeys from the shed next door and harnessed them while Tassin tapped her foot and chewed her lip, anxiety consuming her. What were the priests planning? They were up to something, she was sure. They would not let them leave so easily.
The sun peeped over the horizon as Sabre led the donkeys into the street. Tassin and Dena climbed aboard the cart, and Dena gave him directions for the quickest way out of the city. The donkeys' little hooves tapped on the concrete road, their ears flapping with the nodding of their heads. Sabre led them at a trot, pulling them along. Halfway along a deserted street, the priestess stepped out in front of them, her triumphant smile back.
"I will not let you leave the city."
Sabre increased his pace. "So you keep saying."
Jassine was forced to get out of his way or be run down, and her expression grew wrathful. She waved her arms, and mutant men stepped out of the buildings and side streets all around them, each holding a stick tipped with a piece of black glass. Sabre halted the donkeys and drew the sonlar from his harness as he leapt onto the narrow board that served as the cart's seat.
"Get down, Tassin!"
More and more men emerged, forming a ring. Tassin crawled into the back of the cart, pulling Dena, who was trying to aim one of the big lasers, with her. Sabre pointed the sonlar at Jassine.
"Call them off, or you'll be the first to die!"
The priestess laughed and stepped behind a wall, beyond the sonlar's affective range. Sabre cursed. There was nothing else for it. The men walked closer, the black glass held before them. Jassine must be counting on the fact that he would not be able to kill all the men before some reached Tassin, but he had other ideas. There was more than one way to use a sonlar, and he knew all of them.
Sabre aimed the sonlar at the closing ring of men and activated it, then spun. The weapon's blinding beam swept around him, obliterating the mutants in a roar of blasted concrete. The swathe of destruction hurled debris and dust into the air, and some of the shacks beyond disintegrated in clouds of dust. As the last man was vaporised, Sabre deactivated the sonlar and lowered it, gazing at the havoc he had wrought and the circular crater in the road. All that remained of the men was an odd red streak on the concrete. Revolted, he jumped down and hauled on the donkeys' halters, starting the terrified animals forward. They bumped through the crater, and Sabre broke into a trot, the cart rattling. As they turned the corner, he glimpsed the priestess standing in the street, watching them go.
Sabre did not slow down until they were back in the scrubland, where he let the donkeys walk. Tassin emerged, pale and tight-lipped, and Dena stared back at the receding city, her expression unreadable. Sabre set a brisk pace, wanting to put as much distance between them and the city as possible. By the afternoon, he relaxed a little, for there seemed to be no pursuit. No one spoke, and he assumed the girls were sunk deep in sombre reflection or retrospection.
Towards the end of the day, Sabre located a rivulet that was free from radiation. They stopped for the night, and after a frugal supper Tassin offered to share her tent with Dena, but the child opted to sleep under the cart. As Tassin headed for her tent, Sabre rose from his seat beside the fire and stepped into her path. She stopped and looked up at him, clearly startled.
"I just wanted to say thank you," he said.
She lowered her eyes, becoming interested in her hands. "How could I not try to save you, after all that you've done for me?"
Sabre wondered why she appeared to be holding her breath, and tension had sprung up between them. That she had risked her life to save him caused the strange warmth to invade his chest again, and his throat was tight. People did not rescue cybers; it only worked the other way around. Of course, she needed his help to return to Arlin, but somehow that did not matter. Even if she had only saved him because of his usefulness, it meant a lot to him.
"It was clever of you to know that you needed a sonlar, and to find one."
"Dena found it, and I learn from my mistakes."
He inclined his head. "Good."
Tassin studied him, her eyes lingering on the lacerations around his arm, where blood was crusted to his elbow. "I'll clean that wound for you."
He glanced at it. "I can do it."
"It will be easier for me."
Sabre shook his head, turning away to contemplate the scrubland. "Everything bad in this world comes from the Death Zone."
She blinked, surprised by the change of subject. "I know."
"Your father wanted me to destroy the Death Zone, and the more I see the damage it's doing, the more I see that it must be destroyed."
"But how?" she asked.
"I'm not sure yet, but the man who brought me here must have thought a cyber could do it. Something is creating it, and whatever it is, it's growing stronger. More monsters are coming out of it, and eventually they'll destroy this world. I don't know how it creates those creatures, but there's no food for them in there, so they're forced to cross the desert and attack the people and animals outside." He looked down at her. "I can't leave something like that on your doorstep." Raising a hand, he brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. "I'll try to destroy it; fulfil my mission."
"But that will be very dangerous. You could be killed."
He smiled, his eyes sad. "Does it matter?"
"Yes! It does! I..." She hesitated, adrift in a quagmire of conflicting emotions. The only thing she wanted more than an end to the monsters that ravaged Arlin was for him to stay with her, and she could not bear the thought of him dying. "You mustn't throw your life away."
"My life is worth nothing. It doesn't belong to me. I'll be turned back into a zombie when that man comes back for me. I'm not looking forward to it. Freedom is sweet, and, having tasted it, I have no wish to return to a half-life."
She made a helpless gesture. "But surely there must be a way out of that? We could hide you; tell him you're dead."
Sabre shook his head even as she spoke. "It won't work. He'll find me no matter where I hide. Even if I was somehow able to leave this planet, I wouldn't last long."
"Perhaps he'll let you stay?"
"He'll never do that."
"Why not?"
He sighed. "We've been through this. For one thing, I'm too valuable, and for another, a damaged cyber would be considered dangerous. If there was the slightest hope of remaining free, believe me, I'd grab it. As it is, there's little difference between the half-life I'll have as a cyber and death; except perhaps death will be less painful."
Tears stung her eyes. "I don't want you to die!"
"Nor do I, but it's inevitable, one way or the other."
"We'll find a way. I won't let him take you away."
"You can't stop him," he said.
"There must be a way! You can fight, kill him!"
"No, I can't. You don't understand the power he has. There's nothing either of us can do."
She hesitated, refusing to abandon her stubborn hope. "We will find a way."
"There's no way; forget it."
Tassin glared at him, angry that he had already given up on any possibility of avoiding the horrible fate he seemed to think was so inevitable. There was always something that could be done, even if it was only to try. She would never give up so easily; it was not in her nature, and she could not bear the thought of losing him; it filled her with intense desolation. She swung away and marched to her tent, flung back the flap and jerked it into place behind her.
Sabre sat down and stared across the scrubby vista. She had no idea how much he wished he was not a cyber, and could change the course of his life. His fate had been mapped out the day he had been conceived in the cold, artificial world of technology.
Tassin would never understand his world, or why he would be forced to return to it. He threw a stone into the gathering darkness. He was not even a real man, just a clone created from someone else's DNA, grown in a machine and modified for use as a weapon. He ran his fingers along the control unit, hating it. The crystals' red glow lighted his hand, indicating its malfunction. It was part of him. He was a malfunctioning cyborg, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it.
A week later, the trio reached the scrubland bordering the desert, where the heat became almost unbearable. The donkeys were turned out to graze while Tassin sewed more water bags from the skins of the animals Sabre killed for food. He hunted more often, and, using a laser, brought back far more than they could eat. He cut excess into strips and dried it, using salt Dena had brought in her bundle of belongings. The mutant child proved to be an eager and able helper, collected fodder and even cleaned the animal carcasses, something Tassin still could not bring herself to do.
Dena constantly reminded Sabre of Tassin's queenly status, much to Tassin's amusement and his chagrin. Whenever he asked Tassin to do something, Dena would leap to her defence. The girl also developed a huge crush on him, which he seemed to find amusing, and embarrassing at times. He removed Tassin's stitches with brisk efficiency, avoiding her eyes. The fate that awaited him at the end of the journey did not affect his good nature, yet his calm acceptance of it irritated her. When she suggested ways in which it could be avoided, he merely gazed at her with sad eyes until she looked away.
Anticipation mounted as supplies filled the cart. Tassin wished they could dump the weapons, but without them there was no point in returning to Arlin. Then the day arrived when Sabre decided the cart could carry no more. Dena danced with glee when he announced that they would start the journey that evening. Tassin remembered the last, almost disastrous trip across the burning sands and through the Death Zone with a shiver. Sabre smiled at her, and she returned it weakly, then laughed when Dena grabbed him and forced him to join her wild dance. Tassin marvelled at how strange it was for a warrior like him to allow a crippled girl to bully him. Yet it only served to remind her of his gentle nature, so at odds with his lethal skills.
Tassin giggled when he pretended to trip and rolled in the sand. Dena pounced on him, laughing, and he joined in her game with wholehearted enjoyment. Leaping to his feet, he swept up the girl and hurled her high with consummate ease. Tassin gasped and Dena yelped, but he caught her easily, cushioned her fall and hurled her high again. Dena shrieked with delight and yelled for more when he stopped, tugging at his arm.
When Sabre got Dena to calm down, they tried to sleep, but he only succeeding in dozing for the rest of the day. Late in the afternoon, he went in search of the donkeys while Tassin and Dena struck camp. As the sun sank in a welter of crimson and gold clouds, they headed into the desert on foot, since Sabre was sure the cart would collapse if any more weight was put on it. When Dena grew tired, her lame leg troubling her, he put her on a donkey. This delighted her, keeping her awake and happy for the rest of the night.
During the day, the donkeys ate fodder while the trio took refuge in the cart's shade, or the tents. There was no room in the cart for firewood, so they ate the dried meat raw.
At night, Tassin walked beside Sabre, able to keep up with him now. Her hair hung down her back in a long plait and her skin had acquired a healthy glow. She had changed a lot in the time he had known her, he reflected. She pulled her weight now when there was work to do, and she no longer tried to boss anyone around. His heart grew heavier as the journey's end drew nearer. She would return to her noble society, where her ego would, in all likelihood, bloat to unbearable proportions again. It was better that he slipped quietly from her life when the time came. Being near her only caused him pain, yet he longed for her company.
On the tenth night, they came to the Death Zone barrier. The eerie white wall stretched away over the horizon, rising into the moonlit sky. Dena bombarded them with questions, and, when she ran to poke at the edge of the mist, Tassin turned to Sabre.
"Are you going to destroy it?"
"Not with you and Dena in tow."
"Then what will you do? Are you going to leave it?"
The barrier's eerie glow made his eyes gleam like quicksilver. "No. When you're safely in your castle, I'll return and complete my mission.
"No! If you're going in there to destroy that thing, I'm coming with you."
"No, you're not." He shook his head. "It will be dangerous, and you'll only hinder me."
"No I won't. This time I'll be able to help you."
"How? All you succeeded in doing last time was to almost get yourself killed. You got stuck in a Flux-reality tree and bitten by something poisonous, remember?"
She glared at him. "You got stuck in a tree too. You were just lucky it was not as solid as mine. I'm coming with you. This is my land, and I saved your life back there. I'm not stupid and helpless like I was when we set out."
His voice softened. "Tassin, I have to do this alone. No ordinary person can do it. Maybe even I can't, but I have a far better chance of surviving, alone. If you come with me, you'll only endanger us."
She folded her arms. "I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."
"Not if I don't let you. I'm taking you back to Arlin, and that's that."
"No it's not. If you take me back to Arlin, I'll follow you into the Zone."
"Why?" he asked, incredulous. "Do you want to be killed?"
"I want to come with you."
"You're being a silly, childish, mule-headed, pea-brained idiot."
She shrugged. "Maybe so, but you can't stop me."
"Then maybe I'll leave it here to swallow your land."
"Fine. We can fight the monsters. We're not savages like the Oroka, or fanatics like that last bunch. We can deal with it."
"You'd really do that? You'd condemn your people to a hopeless war with savage unnatural beasts, in which ultimately they'll all die, just to satisfy a silly selfish whim?"
"It's you who would condemn us to that if you don't destroy it. All I want is to share the adventure."
"Adventure?" He snorted. "It will be horrific. You had a taste of it already. Did you enjoy it?"
"In a way. It was certainly different."
"You almost died."
"But I didn't," she said. "It's not that bad. Hell, Purr lives in there; it's his home."
"Purr's adapted to living in there."
"You can argue until you're blue in the face. I'm going with you."
"You want me to take you to the Core, with a donkey cart and a crippled child. What about Dena?"
"I think Dena is quite capable of surviving it," she said.
"She's a child!"
"She's fended for herself since she was six, and she had an arsenal for a playground."
"You're nuts, you know that?" He stared at the barrier with despairing eyes.
"Remember what Purr said. Flux-reality tends to avoid Real-reality, up to a point."
"So?"
"The cart will be an island of Real-reality and make travelling through the Zone easier, if we stay on it."
He grunted. "You assume. What if you're wrong?"
"Then Purr's wrong, which I doubt. After all, he should know."
"And how do you hide a bloody great cart and two belly-aching donkeys?" he demanded. "The monsters will be on us in droves."
"But we have the magical weapons you got from the dead city."
Sabre faced her again. "You've got it all figured out, haven't you? All right, Your Majesty, have it your way. If you follow me into the Zone alone, you won't last five minutes, so I guess I'll have to take you with me and try to protect you as well as destroy the Core, which means we'll probably all be killed. It'll be your epitaph, although no one will erect a stone over your mouldering remains once the monsters have finished chewing them. She had to have her own way!" He marched back to the cart.
A qualm of apprehension coiled in her gut, but it did nothing to lessen her determination. She was going to stay with him, no matter what, and make him notice her. Only when he felt something for her would he make an effort to stay with her, instead of blithely accepting that Manutim would come and take him away one day. Manutim was just a man, even if he was a wizard. Sabre had already defeated a mage; he could do it again if he really wanted to, and it puzzled her that he was so defeatist about it.
Dena came back full of childish observations, which Tassin listened to rather absently, with a stiff smile.
As the sun's first rays gilded the dunes, Sabre led the donkeys into the mist wall, Dena aboard one, Tassin following him. The rainbow-shot mist closed behind them in a solid white wall. Once again, they walked through the wet grey rocks, the cart rattling over stony ground. The cool dampness was a great relief after the dry heat outside, and Tassin licked the dew off her lips. Dena gazed around in awe at the strange new world.
After half an hour of mist and damp rocks, the brown and green flickers shot through the landscape and a new Flux-reality shimmered into being. Dena clapped her hands in delight. A park-like world surrounded them, by far the loveliest Tassin had seen. Huge fragrant blossoms budded dew-fresh from lush foliage, moss-like grass gave under her feet, and spreading trees were vivid green against a cobalt sky. Tassin looked up and frowned. The sun was at midday, whereas outside dawn had just broken. Without Purr, how would they find their way through?
There was no sound or smell, and Dena skipped beside the cart, poking her finger into the semi-solid Flux-reality with cries of glee and gales of giggles. The donkeys snatched at the vegetation, but found little in their mouths to chew, despite the leaves they tore off. Sabre strode ahead, apparently still angered by Tassin's stubborn insistence on coming to the Core.
They had been walking for about four hours when he stopped, allowing the donkeys to attack the nearest bush. Tassin opened her mouth to ask what was wrong when she noticed the dark shapes flitting through the trees. She flung a look at Dena, signalling her to be quiet, then watched the creatures. About a dozen of them moved through the bush, hard to see, but they seemed big, and she could make out glinting tusks or teeth and gleaming green eyes. A faint padding and scratching accompanied the wraith-like forms, indicating that they were Real-reality.
The beasts headed in the direction whence the trio had come, and Tassin guessed that these monsters were leaving the Zone in search of better pickings outside. She shuddered at the thought of the havoc such fearsome beasts would wreak. They did not notice the cart or the three people, and ran on at a mile-eating lope, leaving a putrid stench in their wake. As soon as they vanished into the Flux-reality, Sabre led the donkeys forward once more.
By the time they stopped to rest, they had passed through three Flux-reality worlds, none horrible, but none as nice as the first. The sun shone at mid-afternoon in a world of dense thorny brush and soft, sandy soil. After eating, they took turns standing watch while the others slept and the donkeys munched fodder. When Tassin woke, Flux-reality had changed, and they had to wend their way through a world of petrified trees. Dena ran about collecting pretty stones and pieces of petrified wood, showing them to Tassin and Sabre before storing them in her pockets. Flux-reality was becoming more solid, and she enjoyed pushing her fingers into the dead trees.
When the green and brown flickers warned of the next Change, they stood close to the cart and waited for the new world to materialise. It turned out to be a swamp, and Tassin's feet sank into the spongy ground, as did the cart's wheels. Tracts of waving marsh reeds rolled away under a dull grey sky, and white birds hovered and dived into the reeds, hunting insects. A bitter, briny wind swept past, carrying a faint mist. Sabre hauled the donkeys along as they struggled with the heavy load, the thin wheels sliding on the wet ground. Dena found a nest with fledglings in it and crowed with delight while the adult birds tried to chase her away.
Sabre stopped, his eyes riveted to the horizon, and the donkeys lowered their heads to graze. Tassin followed his gaze, unable to make out anything at first, then she spotted two dots in the distance. They swelled rapidly into two-metre tall, upright lizards of a bright emerald green hue. Powerful hind legs propelled them along at a bouncing run, kicking up spray. Sabre rested his hand on his laser. When the beasts drew closer, Tassin made out the forms clinging to their backs.
"What are they?" she asked.
He glanced at her, frowning. "Large lizards with riders, apparently human."
Returning his scowl, she watched the approaching lizards. The riders wore shiny black suits that appeared to have no seams or joins. They stopped close by, allowing the hissing lizards to sidle closer. The saurians had tiny forelimbs, which they kept tucked close to their chests, the hand-like paws tipped with red claws. Their eyes gleamed red under ridges of armoured hide, and white wattles hung from their necks. The riders sat in bucket seats held on by broad girths, and guided the creatures with thin black reins that ended in metal rings that pierced the lizards' lips. The creatures appeared to have four nostrils, but two of the openings were attached to venom sacks that hung beneath their jaws. A damp, muddy smell wafted from them. Dena abandoned her bird's nest and climbed onto the cart, staring wide-eyed at the newcomers.
The nearest, a black-haired man, shouted, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
Sabre called back, "We're travellers, passing through."
The man looked surprised, glancing at his companion, a red-haired woman wearing garish make up. "I wasn't addressing you, cyber."
Tassin cast Sabre a shocked look, but his face had become blank. This must be a civilised world, one in which they had cybers.
The stranger said, "I asked you a question, stranger. Why does your cyber answer?"
Tassin gathered her wits and glared up at him. She had no idea how to behave with these strange people, and Sabre could do nothing to help her without revealing his freedom.
"I ordered him to speak to you, and what he says is true."
"Travellers? In the Isigang Swamp, with a donkey cart and a... mutant?"
"That's right."
The man smiled. "May I ask where you're going?"
Tassin pointed ahead. "That way."
"Very clever. What's your destination?"
She shrugged. "We're just passing through."
The woman urged her lizard closer and said, "They're malsoes, we'll have to take them in."
"With a cyber?"
"Hired. But it will make things...."
Brown and green flickers shot through the land, and the woman's voice faded. Flux-reality Changed. They stood in a forest of leafless, branchless silver trunks growing straight up to a needle point many metres above. A layer of grey shale covered the ground, sliding under their feet with eel-like slipperiness. She heaved a sigh of relief as Sabre turned to face her.
"Who were those people?" she asked.
"They're from a world called Emareld, a hundred and seventy-five light years away. An unpleasant place, covered with marsh. Two cities have been built there, but it's unpopular, so there aren't many settlers. At least, not willing ones. Petty criminals are sent there to cultivate the land, but many go mad in the never-ending damp. They're called maladjusts, or malsoes, constantly trying to escape."
"That's what they thought we were. What would they have done with us?"
He shrugged. "Taken us to a detention centre. I'd have been deprogrammed and sold once they discovered I wasn't hired, you'd have been mind-wiped and sent back to the settlement, a clean slate, so to speak."
She shuddered. "How horrible."
"Yeah, I'm glad we weren't really there."
"But you could have shot them."
"Sure, but more would have come; they have scanners. Those two were a police patrol, looking for malsoes. If I'd fought them, they'd have killed me eventually."
Tassin frowned, shaking her head in bewilderment. "But if that whole world is a swamp, where are they trying to escape to?"
"They go mad; they just run. Some die; most are recaptured. No one escapes from Emareld."
Sabre tried to get the donkeys moving again, but soon discovered that the gaps between the trees were too narrow to allow the cart to pass. He gave the animals some fodder and settled down to eat. Dena tried to make piles of the slippery shale, then went to sleep under the cart when she tired of the sport.
Tassin gazed around at the eerie forest. The deep mauve sky glowed dimly, and was not the source of the illumination. That, she realised, came from the trees, which gave off a silvery radiance. The world was utterly silent, and this was no longer due to the semi-reality of Flux, which was now solid, and, as the last world had shown them, audible. The warm, dry air was still, and only the donkeys' munching broke the hush.
Sabre stretched out on the shale and closed his eyes. Tassin soon followed his example, and when she woke, the world had Changed. She lay in a crystal desert, barren save for an occasional intrusion of Real-reality. The rainbow-hued crystals chattered when she sat up, and she found Sabre surveying their new habitat gloomily. A dull grey sky glowered overhead, and a chill pervaded the air. Tassin knuckled sleep from her eyes while Sabre woke Dena, who exclaimed in delight at the crystals, running and sliding in them.
Sabre tugged on the donkey's halters, and the beasts plodded after him.
Tassin caught up to walk beside him. "Amazing, isn't it?"
"From a giant's nail bed to another's sugar bowl."
She laughed. "At least there should be no danger here."
"What makes you say that?"
She gestured. "Nothing could possibly live here."
"Don't bet on it."
They walked in silence for a while, apart from Dena's high-pitched shrieks as she capered amongst the crystals. Tassin noticed that the crystals fell far too slowly when Dena tossed them into the air. The child discovered that she could make prodigious leaps, and bounced around wildly. Tassin experimented, finding that she, too, could jump far higher than normal. Sabre watched them with a slight smile.
"Kids," he commented.
The novelty soon wore off for Tassin, but Dena continued to frolic. The Queen walked beside Sabre again, a bounce in her stride. Only the cyber and the donkeys seemed unimpressed by the new world, which summed up their characters nicely, she thought. About two hours later, they came across a Real-reality pool, and Sabre stopped to refill the water skins. As he knelt beside the pond, a scream rent the air, and he dropped the water skin and whirled, drawing a laser from the holster on his belt. Dena floundered in the crystal sand, a black, snake-like appendage wrapped around her legs, dragging her towards the place where it emerged from the crystals. Tassin dashed past Sabre towards the stricken child, but his hand flashed out and caught her jacket, jerking her back.
"Stay away from it!"
The cyber strode to Dena's side, aimed his weapon and fired. The blue beam burnt through the tentacle with a puff of grey smoke, and the severed limb vanished back into the sand. As he reached down to help the frightened child, another tentacle shot out, whipped around his legs and yanked them from under him. Again he fired, severing the tentacle, but another lashed out, and another. Sabre burnt through them as they appeared and latched onto him or Dena, trying to pull the girl away. More and more emerged from the crystal sand, gripping his legs, arms and torso, flashing out to whip around Dena.
Sabre fired again and again, cutting away an apparently endless supply of tentacles, until they piled up around him. In spite of his order, Tassin ran to Dena, being careful to stay beyond the creature's range. Gripping the child's arms, she pulled her away when Sabre cut the tentacles, then hugged the terrified girl while he continued to battle the predator. He inched his way clear, cutting tentacles as they snapped out to bind him. When at last he was able to stand up, the monster under the sand gave up, and no more tentacles emerged. He checked the laser's charge indicator.
"Well, I would have run out of power, but that thing seemed to have plenty of tentacles."
"It has a few less now," she said.
"Yeah." He measured the mounds of black flesh with his eyes. "Quite a few."
After filling the water skins, Sabre pushed on, evidently determined to make good progress while the terrain permitted. Dena huddled on the cart, and Tassin stayed close to the cyber, watching the crystal desert with deep misgivings now. The Flux-reality remained unchanged for several hours, and they saw some monsters in the distance, which had to be Real-reality, for they looked out of place.
Another jungle shimmered into being, different from the previous ones, but unpleasant all the same. Giant trees towered into the sky, their blood-red bark festooned with creepers and fungi. Myriad strange creatures inhabited the canopy, filling the jungle with raucous cries, and flitting, brightly coloured shapes skipped about the trees, swinging through the dense foliage with gravity-defying ease. The donkeys feasted on anything within reach, and Sabre hoped they knew what was poisonous. He had to clear a path with his sword, which made their progress slow and torturous.
After two hours of sweaty, insect-bitten slogging, they emerged into a strange clearing just big enough to allow some light to filter through the branches of the trees around it. Mist covered the ground, and the glade was filled with fine silken strands strung from the ground to high amongst the trees. Jewels of moisture beaded the white silk, which shone in the dappled sunlight like diamond lace. Tassin and Dena gazed at it in awe, their eyes wide, and even Sabre was struck by its beauty. Although loath to destroy something so lovely, he did not wish to make the arduous detour around the clearing, and prodded it with his sword. The weapon became trapped in the sticky strands, and he yanked it free, sending a ripple through the web. Realising his mistake, he swung around and waved Tassin away as he pushed the donkeys backwards.
"Get back! Go!"
Her eyes widened at his urgent tone. "What is it?"
"Go back!"
Tassin's eyes focussed on something behind him, and she yelled. He whirled, sheathing the sword as he snatched the laser from his hip. Hundreds of crimson, hand-sized, spider-like creatures dropped through the web, relinquishing their camouflaged niches on the tree trunks to descend upon their prey. They moved with amazing speed, spinning web as they went. Sabre fired a sweeping laser blast that burnt dozens to ash and cut a swathe through the silken nest. Hundreds survived, however, and the first of them dropped onto his shoulders.
Tassin dragged the donkeys backwards, and Dena already stood further down the path, her eyes wide, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Spiders fell onto the donkeys, which reversed with alacrity, braying in distress. Sabre's skin prickled as the spiders bit him, and he brushed off the arachnids, but more dropped onto him. Backing after the donkeys, he razed the huge web-nest with laser fire, burning the silk away in tattered streamers that fell with ghost-like stealth into the mists below. Spiders clung to him, biting again and again, their silk sticking to him in a fine veil.
The ground at his feet teemed with the ones he had brushed off, already intent on crawling back up his legs. He gyrated like a madman, scraped against tree trunks and smeared spiders to yellow ooze while he retreated, leaving a trail of writhing or squashed arachnids behind him. Tassin slapped at the spiders on the donkeys as the beasts lashed their tails and kicked out in irritation.
Several metres from the nest, the spiders stopped attacking, and the ones on the ground headed back towards their wrecked web-nest. Sabre halted beside the donkeys and looked back at the yellow-smeared trail and the tattered web still visible through the trees. He wiped the goo off, putting away the laser.
"I thought it would be one big one, not a whole army of little buggers."
"Are you all right?"
"I seem to be. Perhaps their poison only works on indigenous creatures." Even as he spoke, a creeping numbness invaded his limbs. "Let's find somewhere to rest."
Sabre glanced inwards at the cyber's information, which indicated a slowing heartbeat and neural deficiency, but, since the spider poison was from the flux, could not detect the reason for it. The control unit countered the symptoms with adrenalin and elevated his temperature, and he hoped the next Change came soon.
They cleared a small area and sat beside the cart while the donkeys tore at the available foliage. Two spiders had bitten Tassin on her arm before she brushed them off, but the bites were not painful, just tiny pricks that smarted for a moment. Tassin examined the bites, which were no more than red spots. Sabre rested against a cartwheel, his eyes closed. The cyber band sparkled with a lot of red lights, and she frowned at him.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
He sighed. "I seem to be going a bit numb, but it will pass. Those spiders probably like to feed on their prey while it's still alive, so chances are their bites aren't deadly. If a Change comes soon, I'll be fine." He turned to her. "I think we're heading in the wrong direction. The Changes are coming slower and slower. We're not crossing the Zone, like last time, I think we must be moving away from the Core, parallel to the desert outside."
"We could wander in here forever, with no way to navigate. Each world's sun is in a different place."
Sabre nodded, closing his eyes again as if fatigued. "Of course, we could be heading towards the Core. Changes would slow in either direction, as long as we're not crossing it. The way I see it, it's like a spiral, sections of worlds radiating from the Core. When we're crossing them, the Changes are quite quick, but when we're heading towards or away from the Core, they slow down."
"So why do you think we're heading away from it?"
He shrugged. "The Changes are slowing more and more. If we were heading towards it, they would be starting to speed up."
"They would if we started to cross it, too."
"I know."
"So how do we know where we're going?"
Sabre opened his eyes and glanced at her. "We don't. That's one of the dangers of the Zone, I reckon, getting lost. Even if we had a compass, it would probably point to the north of each new world."
"A what?"
"Never mind."
"We need a guide."
He smiled. "If you see one, let me know."
"Surely there might be other friendly creatures like Purr?"
"Maybe, but he did say that he was unique. Even if there are, the chances of finding one are slim to nil."
"So what do we do?" she asked.
"We turn around and see if the Changes speed up slowly. If they suddenly speed up, we're crossing it."
"But we could be angling across it, which would also make them speed up slowly."
He sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's a chance we'll have to take. Any better suggestions?"
Tassin shook her head, and Sabre closed his eyes again, looking tired. Dena seemed to have recovered from her shock, and was catching butterflies the size of her head with gentle hands, admiring their iridescent colours, then releasing them to hunt others. Tassin watched her, marvelling at the resilience of youth, which so quickly shrugged off horrors. She waited for Sabre to wake, slapped at insects and kept a wary eye on the web-nest.
After several hours had passed to the tune of Sabre's soft snores, she decided to wake him. Instead of starting awake like he usually did, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice down his shorts, he merely grunted and rolled over, shrugging her off. She shook him harder, but only a snort rewarded her efforts. The control unit still sparkled with a lot of red lights, and she experienced a twinge of fear.
The spiders' bites had done something to him, for, although she was all right, she had only two bites while he had dozens. She tried to rouse him again, but he muttered and brushed her off, settling more comfortably. The spiders were certainly humane, she reflected. Their victims fell into a deep slumber while the arachnids feasted, never to wake. Sabre was not in danger of being drained of blood, but would the poison wear off, and if so, when?
Dena must have noticed her worried look, for the child came over and peered at the cyber. "Is Sabre sick?"
Tassin shook her head, but then admitted, "The spiders made him sleep. I can't wake him up."
The child squatted with the loose-jointed ease of the young. "But he will wake up?"
"When the Change comes, I think."
"How long till then?"
"I don't know."
Dena sighed. "I don't like this place much, it's hot and sticky."
"I agree. I hope the next one is better."
Dena shot Sabre a disappointed look, then went back to insect hunting while Tassin sat and fanned herself with a large leaf. Several hours passed before the brown and green flickers shot through the land.
Sabre woke underwater, his lungs burning for air. Shaking off the last of the spider venom's effects, he kicked for the surface, erupting into a world of raging sea and grey, windy skies. Tassin clung to the cart, her face twisted with terror.
Spotting him, she cried, "Dena! Get Dena!"
The cart floated despite its load, and the donkeys swam towards a distant rock. Tassin was safe for now, but there was no sign of Dena. Cursing the scanners' failure to work in the Death Zone, he swam in the direction of Tassin's frantic pointing. Diving, he opened his eyes to search for a small, struggling child. A movement caught his eye, and he turned. Dena sank slowly, her eyes wide, a stream of bubbles issuing from her mouth. He closed the gap with powerful strokes and took hold of her arm, hauling her to the surface.
The cold wind chilled him, and spume-capped waves rolled by, lashing salt spray into his face. Dena was not breathing, and the cart moved towards the rock, too far to swim to in time. He turned the limp child in his arms and put his mouth over hers, blowing air into her lungs. Her lips were tinged with blue and her skin was pale and cold. He blew air into her again, and she gave a retching cough. Foam oozed from her mouth, then she took a wheezing breath and coughed again. She wound her arms around his neck, still coughing, her breathing a painful rasp.
"Hang on, kid," he murmured.
Sabre supported her with one arm and struck out for the rock. The thought of the depths below made him shiver, and the barrinium plating weighed him down, forcing him to swim strongly to stay afloat. The extra weight destroyed a cyber's buoyancy, and reaching the rock would be a feat of strength, nothing less. Dena clung to him, small enough to be of little hindrance, but the waves reared up to slap him in the face, usually just as he was taking a breath, making him splutter and cough. The troughs swallowed him, trying to pull him into the ocean's icy embrace, and wind-driven spray stung his eyes. He hoped nothing lurked in the dark water beneath him. Each swell was a hill to climb, fighting to stay afloat and propel himself forwards.
When he reached the rock, Tassin pulled Dena from him and hugged the shivering child while he crawled onto dry land. The donkeys had been unable to haul themselves from the water due to the weight of the cart, which tugged at them as it surged in the swells. They clung to the island with flinty fore hooves, their hind legs braced against it underwater. The cart threatened to drag them away from the safety of the tiny island, yet they remained calm, fighting the waves.
Sabre surveyed the raging sea with a shudder. This was the worst Flux-reality world yet. Some distance away, he spied another rock, and something swam close to it. A shaggy Real-reality monster climbed onto the rock, roaring rage and defiance at the elements. Lucky it had not chosen their rock, he mused. A small, cold hand crept into his, and he looked down into Dena's salt-reddened eyes.
"Thank you, Sabre," she croaked.
He crouched and rubbed her hands, trying to share his warmth. "It's nothing, little one; you'd do the same for me."
"I would." She nodded solemnly.
Sabre pulled her onto his lap and hugged her, and she snuggled up to him with a smile. Tassin stomped her feet and rubbed her arms, striving to warm herself in the freezing wind and wishing Sabre's arms were big enough for two. Spray cascaded over the rocks as waves broke against them, hurling sheets of water onto her. Fortunately the donkeys had landed on the more gently sloping leeward side, so the huge waves did not batter them.
Tassin gave up flapping her arms and squatted with her back to the spray, hugging herself to try to preserve her warmth. The wind plucked at her clothes, slicing through the leather dress as if it was cotton. Sabre looked around and beckoned her over, and she noted as she approached him that the cyber's lights were normal once more. Dena was curled in his lap, but he put an arm around Tassin and drew her close. She smiled at him, meeting grey eyes that sparkled with humour.
"Don't get the wrong idea," he said.
She raised her brows. "Have I ever?"
He looked away with a soft laugh. "Of course not."
"Are you okay now?"
"Yeah. I fell asleep, huh?"
"I couldn't wake you up."
Sabre nodded, his eyes distant. "It was the spider venom. I'd have neutralised it eventually, but it was alien, like so much else around here. Lucky you didn't get bitten."
"Yes," Tassin agreed, leaning against him to soak up his warmth.
The monster on the other rock roared and howled, pacing its tiny island. It had seen them, and Sabre knew that when Flux-reality changed he would have to deal with it. For the moment it was loath to leave its haven and brave the frigid sea again, and he did not blame it. At this distance, he could see little except that it was brown, shaggy and spiny. He watched it while they waited for the next Change, trying to ignore Tassin's slender form huddled against him.
By the time the Change came, Sabre was dozing. The monster had fallen silent, probably hoarse from hours of roaring its rage and defiance at the odd world in which it lived. Tassin and Dena had fallen asleep, and, when the brown and green flickers appeared, he woke them. The Change washed over them, and a world of spiny succulents shimmered into being, hot and arid. The monster roused and gave vent to guttural roars, abandoning its boulder. The donkeys slid off the rock and turned to the prickly sustenance around them.
Certain that it would attack them, Sabre drew his laser and waited for the monster to put in an appearance. The growls turned to squeals of pain as the beast discovered the prickly nature of the new terrain. Tassin took Dena to the other side of the rock, clutching her laser. Sabre winced at the crashing in the thorns, wondering how even a monster could inflict such torment upon itself. The beast howled with pain and rage while it blundered through the spines towards them. The succulents in front of Sabre were smashed down, and the huge, shaggy creature appeared. Dagger-like claws tipped its paws, and black, shiny spines bristled in its pelt. Its maddened red eyes glared from a pushed-in face with too many whiskers. Sabre blew its head off. The corpse collapsed, dead before it hit the ground. Behind him, Tassin heaved a sigh.
They made camp and settled down to slake their thirst and hunger while Sabre surveyed the spiny barrier with resignation. It would take a lot of work to move in this terrain at all, since he would have to clear a path with the sword, and even then the thorns might penetrate their shoes. He watched in amazement as the donkeys chewed the plants, their delicate lips skilled at avoiding the thorns. Postponing the onerous chore of moving, Sabre sat on the rock and pondered the situation. If the Changes had been coming more quickly, he would have waited for a new Flux-reality and in the hope that it was a better one than this. It could not be much worse. With a sigh, he rose to his feet and hefted the sword, heading for the nearest thorny barrier.
"I wouldn't do that if I was you," a soft voice said behind him.
Sabre whirled, the sword ready. A cat-sized, black-masked creature regarded him from the rock, its yellow eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Purr!" Sabre and Tassin exclaimed in unison.
The mosscat gave a purring chuckle and preened his whiskers.
"Where did you come from?" Sabre asked, lowering his sword.
"I've been tracking you since you entered the Zone. You've been walking in such an erratic path I thought I'd never catch up with you."
"We're glad to see you, Purr. We need a guide." Tassin grinned.
Purr regarded her. "Oh, so you no longer suspect me?"
"No. You didn't lead us astray last time."
"How did you know we were back in the Zone?" Sabre enquired. "Did we pass close to you?"
"No. You forget, the Zone is my home. The moment you entered it, I knew you were here, and where. I just had to reach you before you fell prey to something, like those poisonous thorns you were about to plunge into. One scratch and you would have been dead. Change would not have saved you, since you're heading towards the Core, instead of across the Zone. It's too slow in coming."
Sabre glanced at the thorns with a shudder. "Thanks. How do you know?"
"I sense things like that."
"Lucky for us. Will you guide us again?"
"Why do you think I tracked you down? Of course I will, even with all the extra baggage." He eyed Dena and the donkey cart.
Sabre introduced him to the mutant girl, and the two regarded each other somewhat suspiciously.
Purr settled on the rock and groomed his belly fur. "So, friend Sabre, didn't you realise something was wrong when the Changes slowed?"
"I'm going in the right direction. We're going to the Core."
The mosscat looked up, his yellow eyes wide. "Are you crazy?"
"No. When we came out of the other side of the Zone, we found out what all those beasts that leave the Death Zone are doing outside. It's not a pretty story. I'm going to destroy the Zone."
Purr chuckled. "You are? How?"
"I'm not sure yet. I'll figure it out when I get there. At the moment, I haven't the foggiest idea what the Core is."
"You and everyone else." Purr tugged at a matted knot in his fur. "I don't know what it is either, but it's got to be pretty big and powerful to create all of this, don't you think?"
"Sure, but that doesn't mean it can't be destroyed."
"You'll never even get there." The mosscat teased a burr from his pelt and tossed it away. "Take some friendly advice, forget the Core and go home. I'll guide you."
Sabre shook his head. "I can't do that, I have to try. The Zone's getting bigger and more powerful all the time. The monsters are wreaking havoc outside. Soon they'll destroy everything, and the Zone will expand to swallow up the whole world."
Purr fluffed his fur. "But this is my world."
"I know, and I'm sorry, but you'll be welcome outside, you're not a monster like that." Sabre gestured to the slain shaggy beast. "I think you'll like it better outside, it's terribly predictable."
The mosscat sighed, shaking his head like an aged professor faced with a particularly dim student. "Maybe so, but you'll never be able to destroy the Core. I'll be leading you to your deaths, and probably mine too. But if, as you say, the Zone is swallowing the world, something must be done." He glanced at Tassin and Dena. "Although I hardly think this is a likely bunch to do it with. We need another five of you, Sabre, not a girl, a child, and a donkey cart."
Tassin scowled. "I'll have you know I'm not some helpless female, Purr, I'm a -"
"Warrior queen," Purr finished for her. "Is she still convinced of that?" he asked Sabre.
"She seems to be." Sabre grimaced. "I tried to talk her out of coming already, but she's determined."
"So I see." The mosscat clasped his chubby hands around his belly, staring into space. "It's a crazy idea. The likelihood of succeeding is nil, I would say. If the Zone's growing, it would seem to indicate that whatever is creating it is growing too, and therefore alive, not some ancient machine as I believed. If that's the case, then it's probably intelligent, or sentient, at least, which increases the danger too. Once it deduces your intent, the Core will strive to stop you, and it has many weapons."
Sabre considered this. "It's not necessarily alive; it could be a machine that's growing more powerful as it draws more energy from its surroundings. The ancients had machines that drew power from the air, wind or sun. Have you ever known it to do anything deliberate?"
"Well, it creates the creatures that live here, if that could be called intelligent."
"How does it create them?"
"I don't know." Purr looked thoughtful. "I have a vague memory of being near the Core, but it was a long time ago, and I moved away quickly. Being near the Core is very nasty."
"How so?" Tassin asked.
"Well, my memory of it is hazy, but it seemed that the Changes were very fast, very dangerous and disorientating. A mad whirl, really, and a tugging... pushing ... like wild magic... very wild."
"But you survived," Sabre pointed out.
"Yes, most of us do, I suppose, but we move away as fast as we can; we're pushed away. I think to approach the Core would be far more difficult."
Sabre glanced at Tassin, then back at the mosscat. "I guess we'll just have to try. If we don't, this world is doomed, or at least, the world outside is, and maybe this one too, since there's not enough food in the Zone to feed the monsters it creates. Once there's no more normal world outside, what will they do? Hunt each other? Starve?"
"They hunt each other now, though not with much zest, I must admit. Most leave, as you know," Purr said.
"Yeah. So you'll guide us?"
Purr blinked, gazing around while he considered. "It seems wrong for me to help you destroy my world. I should be trying to stop you, you know. The world outside means nothing to me; I've never seen it, never wanted to."
"It's nice, Purr," Tassin said. "It's like one of the nice Flux-realities; like the one where the monster was attacking the village, remember? Only it never changes, and once this place is destroyed, there will be no more monsters. You'll be safe all the time."
"It's like that? With trees and grass, and animals?"
She nodded. "Yes, and people, houses, castles, all sorts of wonderful things."
The mosscat twiddled his whiskers. "I guess it sounds better than this place. Anyway, I still don't think you'll be able to destroy the Core. I'll guide you as close as I can, and still be safe, after that you're on your own."
Sabre smiled. "It's a deal."
Purr picked up his striped tail and began to pull burrs from it. "In the meantime, have you got food? I'm starved."
On Purr's advice, they settled down to wait for the next Change. They discussed the Core, speculating on what it might be. Sabre questioned Purr about what he had seen when he had been close to it, but the mosscat's explanation was vague.
"You don't want to remember it, do you?" Sabre asked.
"Would you like to recall the details of your birth?"
The cyber winced. "Not particularly, no."
"And you intend to destroy the Core, my creator, one could say, my mother." The mosscat glared. "How would you like to aid the death of your creator?"
"I'd love to."
Purr hissed, and Tassin said, "Sabre was not born normally, Purr. He also has no parents.
Sabre studied the mosscat. "How do you even know about mothers and fathers, since you were created by the Core, which is certainly not a small fluffy creature like you? It didn't raise or nurture you. You don't even know what it is. How do you understand the word 'mother'?"
"I'm not sure. I seem to remember something..." Purr shook his head. "A very faint memory, of another like me... a burrow... a warm nest."
Tassin frowned. "How is that possible?"
"I don't know. It's not; it must have been a dream."
Sabre shook his head. "A creature who has no concept of such things couldn't dream about them. Is that all you can remember?"
The mosscat shrugged. "I have a vague memory of grass and trees, that's all."
"Whatever it is, you can't regard the Core as your mother any more than I can call my creator my mother. You can't love it, Purr. It doesn't deserve it. Evil spawned us, but at least we can put an end to this one. It brings these creatures into the world to suffer, and to inflict suffering on others, just like I was. It's got to be stopped."
Purr huffed. "I don't believe you can stop it, friend Sabre. I believe I'm leading you to your doom, yet I suspect that you'll go anyway. So my help makes no difference to the outcome, that's why I'll guide you. Whether you die at the Core or on the way there makes little difference, but I do enjoy your company."
Sabre glanced at Tassin. "If I fail, will you guide Tassin to safety? She insists on coming with me, but if I die, I hope she at least has the sense to leave, if she can."
"Sure. I'll guide her from the Zone if she wishes it."
Tassin glared at them with equal ferocity. "You're not going to fail, Sabre."
He shrugged and sighed. "Nothing's certain."
The mosscat looked sad, apparently as convinced that Sabre would fail as Tassin was that he would succeed.
Many hours passed before the next Change came, by which time the party was resting. Purr raised the alarm, and they huddled on the rock as the world warped. Dena gave a cry of joy when a vivid new vista took shape around them. Tall golden-barked trees with bright red leaves towered over them, their fiery foliage rustling in the breeze. Long, deep blue grass swayed in a nearby meadow that slumbered beneath a garish green sky.
Tassin pulled a face. "Weird!"
"Certainly colourful." Sabre jumped down and caught up with the donkeys as they headed for the meadow. Purr followed, sniffing the air with appreciation.
"A better world for travelling."
They set off through the forest on a carpet of leaves rotted to a deep bronze hue. Fungus-like growths of the most unlikely colours sprouted from the damp humus, some sporting brilliant flowers. Dena skipped ahead, exploring, and Sabre fought an urge to call her back, trying to pin-point what it was about this world that filled him with unease. The land was eerily still, as if they walked through a mad artist's painting, realistic, but lifeless. He cursed the non-functional scanners, wishing they worked, for his senses clamoured with alarm and the hair on his nape bristled.
Purr too seemed uneasy, judging by the line of bristling hair that stood up along his spine. One by one, it affected all of them. Tassin was the next to start looking around apprehensively, then Dena gravitated to the cart, her face pale. Even the donkeys became jittery, their long ears swivelling like antennae. They plodded on, the tension rising. Dena held Tassin's hand and gripped the laser tucked into her belt. A soft thud nearby made them jump, and Sabre caught a glimpse of something small and bright yellow vanishing into a burrow. Nerves twanging, they walked on. Another yellow flash flitted high in a tree, but whatever the creatures were, they were extremely furtive.
The terrain was easily traversed, and for the next few hours they made good progress in spite of the oppressive, nerve-jangling atmosphere. A rumble of thunder made Tassin gasp and Dena squeak, then relax with nervous giggles. The sky was a bilious green now, dark and threatening.
Purr's whisper grated on raw nerves. "Something terrible stalks this land."
"Let's hope we don't encounter it," Sabre husked back.
"I wish it would Change," Tassin murmured.
A silent, flitting yellow flash made them look around, but it vanished into the earth before anyone could get a good look at it.
"I think talking is unwise," Purr whispered.
Sabre nodded, hoping the donkeys would not have a sudden urge to bray.
They continued in silence, ears and eyes straining for signs of danger, but the world remained quiet and still. As they passed a tranquil blue grass meadow on their right, their heads jerked around at a distant sound, a soft shuffling as something moved through the fallen leaves on the far side of the meadow. Sabre looked at Purr as everyone froze, even the donkeys.
The mosscat resembled a pompom, his fur on end, his tail a bottlebrush. His large ears swivelled and his nose sampled the air while his eyes scanned the surroundings. Sabre followed Purr's gaze as it became intent, and found the source of the noise. A horse-sized, dark grey monster ventured into the meadow, its thick legs armed with long spurs at the ankles, a single horn growing from the centre of its misshapen, four-eyed head. It huffed as it moved with an awkward, swinging gait to avoid the long spurs on its forelegs. It seemed unaware of them, crossing the open ground at an angle to pass in front of them.
"Real-reality?" Sabre whispered to Purr.
The mosscat nodded, his yellow eyes wide, then flung himself flat on the ground. "Down!" he whispered. "Get down! Everyone!"
Tassin dropped, pulling Dena with her. Sabre turned to the donkeys, reached under the closest beast and gripped the startled animal's far foreleg, dragging it down. It thrashed as he climbed onto its neck to repeat the procedure with the other donkey, then he lay across their necks, pinning them. After an initial struggle they quieted, and Sabre looked around for the danger. Only the soft scuffling of the monster, now heading across their path into the trees, broke the forest's silence. Sabre glanced at Purr, who looked like a thick rug, hugging the ground as if it was his long lost mother.
Sabre longed to ask him where the danger was, but heeded the mosscat's advice. He shivered, and goose bumps rose on his skin. The temperature seemed to have plunged ten degrees. Something was close by, but still he could see nothing. Tassin gave a sharp hiss and Dena a muffled whimper, then the chill ebbed, and Sabre gathered that it was moving away, whatever it was. The monster, which still shuffled across their path, stopped and looked around, its ears twitching.
Something that looked like a heat shimmer, about a metre above the ground, moved towards the beast. The monster sensed it and backed away, snuffling, then turned and ran. The shimmer descended on it in a flash, and the beast reeled with a scream of agony. Its grey fur turned white as if covered with frost, and the monster collapsed, thrashing. Sabre watched with growing horror as the creature was consumed. Its hair vanished, revealing pink hide, then that seemed to fade, turning red as the meat beneath was exposed.
Tassin and Dena gaped at it, and he whispered, "Don't look."
They ignored him, perhaps not hearing, and his bile rose as the monster melted away. It thrashed and screamed in a thin, wailing cry as the flesh was stripped from its skull and its eyes were eaten from their sockets. White bone gleamed in those places where the flesh was thin; the skull, backbone and ribs were exposed, shoulder blades and hips starting to appear.
Unable to stomach it, Sabre whispered to Purr, "Is it safe to leave while that... thing is busy?"
The mosscat shivered, tearing his eyes from the carnage, then nodded and crawled away. Sabre let the donkeys scramble up and led them away. Tassin stumbled after them, her pale face tinged with green. They all threw nervous glances over their shoulders while they retreated in silent haste. The shimmer around the now dead monster had taken on a pink tinge, giving it a cloud-like form.
They hurried away, not caring that they were heading in the wrong direction. The mosscat led, his fur still on end, and they only paused to allow Tassin to retch behind a tree. They circled, creeping through the forest in a cold sweat of apprehension, and Sabre did not object when he realised that Purr was leading them at right angles to their previous path. They all wanted to get out of this Flux-reality as fast as possible, and there were sighs of relief when the green and brown flickers appeared.
The new Flux-reality was reassuring in its normality; a green landscape of short soft grass dotted with twisted, black-barked trees. Thin, pale green leaves hung from their knotty branches, and some bore bright blue fruit. Yellow flowers spotted the grass, and a pink sky arched overhead. What caught everyone's attention, however, was the party that was going on a few metres away.
A bevy of small, delicate people dressed in gossamer clothes danced to a playful flute. Yellow flowers twined their long golden tresses, and rosy lips parted to laugh and pant, revealing pearly teeth. A lacy blanket was spread with a feast of fruit, vegetables and nuts on silver plates, accompanied by pitchers and cups of wine. More people ate and drank, watching the dancers skip and twirl. Sabre regarded the peaceful scene warily, hoping it was as innocuous as it appeared.
"Looks like a picnic."
The flute player stopped, and everyone turned to stare. Stunned silence fell, then several people laughed and capered towards them, smiling.
"Welcome! Welcome!"
The dancers surrounded them, skipping and bouncing, their bright hair flying and eyes sparkling with excitement. None of them was over a metre and a half tall, and they were slender and youthful, but not child-like. The men were broad shouldered and well-muscled, the women curvaceous and lovely. All had varying shades of golden hair and blue eyes. They tugged at Sabre and Tassin, urging them towards the picnic. Dena shrieked with joy when two ladies took her hands and twirled her in a mad dance. They patted the donkeys and even tried to stroke the mosscat, who perched atop the cart, grumbling.
Sabre allowed several young women to urge him towards the party, pretty sure they were harmless. They made him sit beside the picnic cloth and pressed food into his hands, offering him a cup of wine. Dena fell to with a will, relishing the sweet fruit. Sabre found the fare exquisite, and Tassin sat close to him, a bevy of admiring males, who seemed fascinated by her black hair, surrounding her. They plied her with food and drink just as the girls did Sabre, and other members of the crowd made a fuss of the donkeys and Purr, although he was the only one who did not seem to appreciate it. When the excited chatter died down somewhat, a man seated on the other side of the picnic blanket addressed them.
"You must be travellers, strangers to our land," he said. The gold circlet he wore in his bright hair enhanced his air of authority.
Sabre nodded, introducing himself and his companions.
The man inclined his head in polite acknowledgement. "I am Prince Larric of Mernon, and you are welcome here. Where do you fare to?"
"We're just passing through, roaming."
"Ah." The Prince smiled, and although he looked like a nineteen-year-old, his manner was mature. The woman beside him, who looked to be in her twenties, leant over and spoke in the Prince's ear.
Sabre muttered to Tassin, "Pity he's not real, hey?"
She snorted. "He's too short, anyway."
"He's a prince. I didn't know he had to be tall, too."
"Stop it, Sabre. It's not funny."
The women examined Sabre's brow band and asked questions, distracting him. They seemed to have a short attention span, however, and the novelty of the newcomers soon wore off. The Prince clapped his hands, and the piper started to play again. The dancing resumed, and Dena joined them, trying to match their fluid grace, but failed, her limp obvious. The Prince watched her, a faint frown furrowing his smooth brow, then rose and approached her. He spoke to the child, and Dena nodded. The Prince removed his golden circlet and touched it to the girl's brow.
Dena's spine and crooked leg straightened, and her patchy brown hair turned to shining gold locks. Tassin gasped and looked at Sabre, whose mouth twisted with regret. Dena beamed at the Prince, her eyes brimming with joyful tears. Larric bowed, smiling, and took her hands to lead her in a graceful dance. The others clapped and cheered, and Dena laughed with happiness. Sabre groaned and rubbed his face, shaking his head. Tassin rose and joined the dance, leaving him to watch Dena twirl and leap with grace she had never known.
The merry folk, as he came to think of them, caroused for hours, yet the food was not depleted and the piper never tired. Dena was a princess in her ragged dress, the Prince her golden companion. Tassin tried to persuade Sabre to dance, as did several other ladies, but he remained unmoved, shaking his head. Tassin rested on occasion, flushed and smiling, but Dena danced untiring under the Prince's spell. Sabre stood up and called a warning when the green and brown flickers shot through the land, and the world Changed.
The high skirl of pipes hung in the air like an echo, and the dancers' ghostly laughter faded into a memory as a dark, gloomy forest appeared around them. Dena, caught in mid-twirl, tripped and fell. She sat stunned, then let out a heart-rending wail. Tassin went to kneel beside her and hug her, but the child would not be consoled, and sobbed harder, her deformities once again a reality. Sabre waited for her to calm, but instead her wails rose to screams, and she flung a full-fledged tantrum, flailing at Tassin with her fists.
Sabre strode over to her and gripped her thin shoulders, giving her a shake. "Stop it! You knew it wouldn't last, Dena. It was just like a dream, that's all, a cruel dream. You woke up, now stop it."
Dena glared at him, her tear-streaked face twisted with bitter self-loathing, but she choked back her sobs and knuckled her eyes. He went to the cart, where Purr waited. The mosscat yawned and stretched.
"Well, now we can be on our way, at last." He jumped down and headed off through the gloom.
The dense coniferous forest allowed no glimpse of the sky, and its needle-strewn floor was lifeless. Sabre tugged the donkeys forward, his belly growling, bereft of the food he had eaten. Tassin, looking tired and pale, led a still sniffling Dena after the cart, her limp more pronounced than ever.
They trudged through the gloomy forest in silence, each sunk in private unhappiness that the depressing landscape aggravated. There seemed no end to the monotony of shaggy trunks and flat, needle-thick ground. Their footfalls were silent, and only the faint sighing of a breeze in the trees' upper branches broke the quiet. There was no oppressive atmosphere here, however, only cool, damp gloom. The mosscat stopped beside a Real-reality pool, the first they had come across for a while, and Sabre filled the water skins. They chewed on the tough dried meat to fill the aching void in their stomachs that the loss of the succulent fruit they had eaten at the picnic had left.
The control unit's clock informed Sabre that they had been walking for only four hours when the next Change came, so the Changes were speeding up, which meant they were nearing the Core. They clustered around the cart when the flashes appeared, and a world of grey mud replaced the gloomy forest. A roiling sky of purple clouds glowered down on flat mire pock-marked with small, weeping craters, and Sabre found the footing firm but slippery. A hiss made him spin around as a geyser of steam erupted from one of the craters, vented for a moment, and subsided. Warily placing his feet, he moved off, tugging the slipping donkeys. Everyone moved cautiously to keep their footing except Purr, who sprouted long claws for traction and trotted ahead. The air stank of sulphur and mud, an ugly mixture whose pungency abused their noses.
The journey through the mud world was uneventful until a nearby geyser's venting startled Tassin, making her slip and sit down with a yelp in the mud. Sabre stared at her, the endless tedium of the mud world dulling his mind, and then Dena giggled. Tassin grinned, picked up a handful of mud and hurled it at the girl. It landed with a splat on her chest, and Dena shrieked and retaliated, her much larger dollop hitting Tassin on the side of the neck and sliding into her dress.
Discarding all dignity, the Queen flung a moist mud pie that hit Dena on the rear as she bent to scoop up more muck. Dena jumped with a shriek, slipped and sat down with a squelch. Soon a storm of mud patties flew between them, and they resembled mud monsters. Purr came back to stand beside the grinning cyber, shaking his head in amazement.
"Are all human females this crazy?"
Sabre laughed. "Only the ones with a sense of humour."
Tassin flung a dollop of muck at him, which hit him square on the forehead and obliterated the cyber band. Declining to join in, he retreated with the mosscat to the safety of the donkeys' lee, laughing. By the time the mud fighters had had enough, they were plastered with grey sludge from head to foot.
They trailed behind the cart, vainly scraping at the caked muck while they meandered between the craters. Despite the slippery footing, they made good progress in the mud world. Sabre was not surprised that this world had no life; it appeared to be a young planet, still in its birth throes, unstable and unformed. He wondered if their tracks would remain to puzzle archaeologists in a millennia's time.
Again the Change came faster, and the mud world vanished in a wink. A sun-drenched beach pounded by the waves of a sparkling green sea replaced it. Noting Tassin's weariness, Sabre stopped the donkeys and made camp while Dena frolicked in the shallows, collecting shells. Tassin sat on the sand, looking a bit startled to find herself clean again, the mud vanished with the previous Flux-reality.
Although the warm, pleasant world offered easy travelling, and the beach stretched invitingly ahead of them, they had to sleep; even Sabre was tired. The constant daylight made time hard to calculate, and only weariness dictated their sleeping times. Even the control unit's clock failed to provide a reliable time, Sabre had discovered that every Change reset it. When he turned to offer Tassin some food, he found her already asleep, her hair blowing over her face in a veil. He gazed at her, wishing anew that he did not have to leave her when this adventure was over, if he survived.
He caught Purr watching him and said, "Why don't you go and catch a fish or something?"
The mosscat gave his purring chuckle. "Eating Flux-reality only makes you hungrier when it's gone, friend Sabre. I thought you would have noticed that."
"Yeah, but it'll keep you occupied." Sabre lay back, closed his eyes and allowed the lassitude to wash over him in a healing tide. Cyber hosts still needed sleep.
Sabre woke with a violent start when something small and hairy landed onto his chest with a squeak. He struck out in reflex, sending Purr flying with a yelp, and sat up, a hand on his laser.
Purr rolled to his feet and cried, "Look out!"
Sabre whipped around. A huge red cat with golden spots crouched not two metres away, ready to spring. Snatching the laser from his belt, he fired as the beast leapt, burning a hole in its chest. It rolled to a stop beside him, its blue eyes glazing. He rose to his feet, staring down at the beast.
"How the hell did that thing get so close, Purr? I thought you were keeping watch?" He glared at the puffed-up mosscat, who glared back, undaunted.
"It just appeared out of thin air! One minute there was nothing, then suddenly, poof! It just stepped through, as if an invisible door opened."
Sabre glanced at Tassin, who stared at the cat, rubbing one eye sleepily. Dena studied the beast with obvious fascination, and he turned back to Purr.
"How's that possible? It's never happened before."
"We're getting close to the Core. I did warn you, it will try to protect itself. It's divined your intentions."
Sabre snorted. "I think you fell asleep."
"No. I've watched three Flux-realities come and go. You slept for a long time, but I was awake. Had I been asleep, you'd be dead."
Sabre doubted that, but his anger abated when he bent to examine the beast. The cat had none of the deformities Flux-monsters usually did. He glanced around at the new landscape of shoulder high golden grass, which almost hid distant trees with long yellow leaves. Deep red earth was visible between the grass clumps in a pattern of spots and stripes. The feline matched the terrain perfectly.
"It's a Flux-reality animal," he informed Purr.
The mosscat sniffed. "Of course, I knew that."
"So it stepped through the grass and caught you on the hop."
"No! It came out of nowhere! Nothing creeps up on me. Do you think I would have survived this long if I was that stupid?"
"It was well camouflaged," Sabre pointed out.
"I saw the animal in the weird world coming, and that was invisible."
Sabre pondered. The mosscat was right, the big cat should not have been able to sneak up on him, but that introduced a plethora of unpleasant possibilities. "So, you think the Core sent it."
Purr's tail twitched with annoyance. "That's what I said. The Core transported it here, hoping it would kill you while you slept."
"So we can expect more visitors like this."
"A lot worse than this. I think this one just happened to be nearby. Perhaps the Core has just realised the danger, soon it will start sending many monsters, real ones."
Sabre looked at Tassin, glimpsing a flicker of fear in her eyes before she hid it. "Sure you don't want to turn back now? Purr can still guide you out."
"No, I'm coming."
Sabre looked away, angered by her foolishness. Females were supposed to have better survival instincts than males, but this one was distinctly lacking. To prevent himself from arguing with her, he checked his equipment, ensuring the lasers were fully powered, and tucked some spare power packs into his harness. He took an extra laser and checked Tassin's weapon as well, avoiding her eyes. His preparations clearly frightened her, and that gave him an odd twinge of satisfaction. He buckled the sheathed sword across his back, where the hilt was easily reached over his shoulder, and tucked the knife into his belt.
Turning to Purr, he said, "If you want to leave, it's okay. I'm sure I can find the Core now."
The mosscat watched him with narrow eyes. "I'll stay a little longer."
Sabre grunted and pulled the donkeys from their meal, pushing through the long grass. Tassin walked close behind him, and Dena sat on the cart, scanning the land with wide eyes. Within half an hour another Change came, a strange world of metre-high buff ridges that stretched away to the horizon. A pale yellow sky glowed uniformly, with no sign of a sun. Sabre stopped the donkeys and frowned at the ridge that blocked their path. Stepping forward, he kicked it in frustration, and his foot sank into it. He prodded it, finding it as soft as sponge, and led the donkeys on again, trampling the stuff underfoot. The sponge gave off a tangy smell when it was crushed, which made Sabre's mouth water.
A dark green monster stepped out of the air in front of Sabre. Purr sneezed, sprouting claws and fangs, and Tassin yelled, reaching for her laser. Sabre's weapon was out before anyone else had time to do anything, and the monster died with a surprised look on its ugly, snouted face. After a second of shocked stillness, Purr sneezed again, and Sabre put away the laser, staring down at the monster.
"One thing about the Core interfering like this," he said, "the beasts are just as surprised to see us as we are to see them."
"It will learn," Purr stated grimly.
Tassin leant on the cart, looking like her legs were weak with shock. "What will it do, materialise them right on top of us?"
"Maybe. Or further away, so they'll have time to attack us, and probably many of them."
Sabre stepped over the corpse. "Then we'll see how clever it is."
They walked undisturbed for an hour, then the world Changed again, this time to rolling hills covered with bright red creepers that snaked across the land like serpents, twitching and coiling in the sun. Sabre poked one with his foot to assure himself that it was harmless, but it merely coiled away, revealing black soil beneath it, from which it had withdrawn thousands of slim white roots. The sun was a lighter spot behind a layer of pale grey clouds, casting a diffuse, cold light. Within minutes of the new Flux-reality coming into being, the Core launched an attack.
Five monsters stepped from the air around the cart, one less than a metre away, the others a few metres distant. Purr sneezed as Sabre yanked out his laser and shot the nearest tusked horror. The mosscat leapt at a hairy orange creature with blazing green eyes. Tassin pulled out her weapon and fired wildly at a bewildered boar-like animal. Sabre killed two more attackers while they lumbered towards the cart, then shot the boar-like animal as it swung about short-sightedly, confused by the cracks of laser light around it.
Purr and the orange monster rolled together, snarling, in the vegetation, a whirling blur too confused for Sabre to aim at with any degree of accuracy. Instead he grabbed an orange appendage and lifted the wolf-sized monster up, Purr dangling from its bloody snout with long claws and fangs. With a quick twist, Sabre broke its neck and dropped it into the red creepers. Purr regained his rotund appearance with a sneeze, and Sabre surveyed the bodies with grim satisfaction.
"It'll have to do better than that."
"It will," Purr muttered.
Sabre turned to frown at Tassin. "If you can't hit anything with that laser, don't waste the power."
Her mouth fell open at his unexpected rebuke, then she shut it and her expression hardened. "Fine."
Sabre grunted and set off again at a faster pace, eager to meet his foe and put an end to its toying with them. Flux-reality Changed again, this time to an icy world of freezing wind and snow. The donkeys floundered into a snowdrift up to their shoulders and stopped. Sabre was hip deep in it, and Purr had vanished. Tassin sprawled as the subsidence of the snow crust took her unawares. Sabre struggled over to her and helped her to crawl onto the cart, where she huddled with Dena. Purr emerged from the snow as a ball of thick fur with paddle-like paws and waddled over to the cyber. Sabre scanned the snowy landscape, but the whirling flakes reduced visibility to only a few metres. Thick clouds obscured a weak sun, making the world dim, and Purr snuffled the air while they waited for the attack.
A heaving mass of grey beasts emerged from the icy gloom, eyes gleaming. Sabre yelled a warning and fired, the blue laser light cracking into the monsters. The pack of huge wolves from the prairies bounded through the snow with deceptive ease. Several fell to his fire, and Tassin's laser cracked behind him, killing more. With so many, she could not miss. The pack kept coming, however, leaping over their fallen fellows undaunted. Sabre fire again and again, drawing the second laser when the first ran out of power. Dozens of wolves fell, but still more came on.
Tassin shouted as the first beasts reached him, and Purr shifted with a huge sneeze. A beast leapt at Sabre's arm, and he spun away, sending it sprawling with a punch. Two more came at him, one of which he burnt at point blank range, but the other knocked him into the snow. Pulling out his knife, he stabbed it, and hot blood pumped from the wound. Another went for his throat, but he smashed it away with his forearm. A yelping close by told him that Purr was busy, then a hot beam of laser light seared dangerously close to him and a hairy body crashed into him. He pushed it off and struggled out of the snow as more wolves attacked, eyes gleaming, teeth bared.
The deep snow hampered Sabre as he fired into the mass of grey bodies, smashing others aside when they hit him. Their teeth ripped his arms and claws scratched his chest. One tried to leap past him onto the cart, but he stabbed it with the knife in his left hand, firing the laser in his right. His knife opened gashes that stained the snow red and his fists hammered the wolves aside, crushing bones. Laser fire flashed from the cart, making him flinch when it came too close.
Within a few minutes the attack broke off, and the half a dozen remaining wolves retreated, some limping, to glare from the gloom. Picking up the laser he had been forced to drop in the melee, Sabre climbed out of the trampled, bloody depression and stood on top of the dead wolves piled around it. Reloading the laser, he killed two more animals before the others fled, then he turned to survey the carnage.
At least thirty wolves lay dead in the snow. Purr sat atop his victim, and the rest were ranged around the spot where Sabre had fought. He looked up at Tassin, who sat on the cart with a spent laser gripped in her white-knuckled hand. Dena also clutched a weapon, her face deathly pale. He longed to climb up and comfort them, but hardened his heart, unable to forgive Tassin for her foolishness. Instead he turned to the mosscat, who was licking a gash in his flank.
"You're hurt."
Purr shot him a sour look. "So are you."
Sabre looked down at his arms, surprised to find blood running from deep gashes. He had felt nothing, but now a dull burning spread up his arms. Cursing, he put away his laser and scrubbed the wounds with snow, then dug in his pouch and smeared antibiotic cream on them, using the well-worn strips of cloth to bind them. Tassin appeared beside him, her face pale, and took over the chore. He studied her while she worked, noting her clenched jaw and icy hands.
"It's going to get worse," he warned.
Tassin shrugged, then looked up at him, the expression in her eyes making him look away. When she climbed back onto the cart, he joined her, settling down in the hay to await the next Change. Dena cuddled up to him, and he put his arm around her to hold her shivering form close. He thought about the look in Tassin's eyes, something frighteningly akin to despair, and wondered at it.
Tassin gazed at his profile, her heart aching. She had a terrible foreboding that Sabre would not survive this quest, and emptiness grew inside her. There were times when she glimpsed something in his eyes, but it was always so fleeting that she could not be sure of what it was. It could have been sadness or tenderness or both, but his guard was always too quick for her to ascertain it. He was no longer the teasing man who had revelled in his freedom and laughed at her pompous airs. Over the months, he had become dangerously intent, a panther stalking its kill.
Clenching her teeth to stop them chattering, she envied Dena's warm place in his arms. She wished he would hold her close like that, but knew he would not. He was too angry with her for coming to the Core. In truth, she was terrified of what lay ahead, yet she refused to be parted from him. Whatever time he had left, she was going to share with him. If only he felt the same way about her. Lost in dreams, she did not notice the flashes that heralded the next Change. The snow and cold vanished, and a flat expanse of grey rock riddled with fissures and cracks under a brilliant blue sky replaced it.
Sabre jumped down and started to lead the donkeys forward. Tassin joined him, leaving Dena alone on the cart, for Purr had vanished as soon as reality had Changed. Her nape hairs prickled, and she stopped, her hand dropping to her laser. Sabre already had his out as the air parted before them, and a man stepped through.
Tassin gasped and gagged. What stood before them had once been a man, but his resemblance now was minimal. His skin had the pallor of a week-old corpse, his cheeks and eyes were sunken, and his near naked body was shrivelled. A filthy, half-rotten rag hung about his hips, green with mildew and dappled with brown stains that might have been blood. Thin grey hair straggled over his shoulders, and his nails were long, curved and twisted. The stench that emanated from him was that of an open grave, musty and putrid. His withered mouth opened, and he spoke in a dry, clotted voice.
"Go back. You are forbidden."
Sabre kept the laser aimed at the creature. "Who are you?"
"I am a guardian, you will not pass."
Tassin glanced at Dena, who looked like she wanted to be sick, a hand clamped over her mouth.
Sabre looked unimpressed. "We will pass, don't try to stop us."
The air parted again, and five more ghouls stepped forth, three women and two men, one built like a wrestler, two short and plump, another tall and thin, the last of average build. All had the same pallid skin and straggly grey hair. The first one spoke again.
"You have proven a match for the beasts, but you will not prevail against the guardians."
"Oh? Why is that?"
"We are already dead."
Tassin shuddered, and Sabre tensed, his finger tightening on the laser's firing button. "Then how do you stand there and speak to me?"
"The Core gives us the power to guard it. People cannot be changed as the animals are, they..." the creature broke off, shivered, then said, "Go back, this is your last warning."
"No." Sabre fired, the laser bolt burning a hole through the ghoul's chest. Dark, brownish blood oozed from the wound, but the creature did not even flinch. Sabre fired again, this time at its head, which exploded like a rotten pumpkin, spraying decayed grey matter. Still the creature stood, then stepped forward.
"Bloody hell," Sabre muttered.
The other ghouls shambled towards them. Sabre fired at the leader's legs, causing it to stagger and fall when one gave way. Tassin fired at another, her shot wild as she backed away from the zombies' slow advance. She hardly noticed the Change that flickered through the landscape, transforming it to a shallow lake from which spindly, large-leafed trees grew. The ankle-deep water hampered the ghouls a little, but they came on. Sabre fired at the zombies' legs, bringing them down, but they still moved grotesquely, robbed only of the ability to walk. More and more stepped from the air, old men and women, youngsters, even children, their hollow eyes blank and staring, their withered faces expressionless.
The donkeys turned and trotted away, not liking what they faced, forcing Dena to jump down and stop them. Of Purr there was still no sign; the mosscat had vanished. The zombies walked too slowly to be effective, and Sabre was able reload his laser and cut them down before they reached him. A huge, bear-like beast armed with long fangs and scythe-like claws emerged from the air behind the ghouls. It cowered from the grey-skinned zombies, then spotted Sabre and Tassin. With a guttural growl it charged Sabre, who shot it. Its lifeless corpse slid to a stop at his feet as another Change came.
A scrubby, semi desert terrain of white sand dotted with solid gold and tarnished silver boulders replaced the shallow lake in a blink. Sabre reloaded again as more and more undead stepped from the air. All manner of monsters accompanied them, from snarling dire-wolves to hissing, dragon-like lizards that spat acid. Some of the beasts turned on each other and entered into bloody battles, but most advanced on the intruders as if some unseen power goaded them. Sabre retreated, cutting down ghouls and monsters alike with broad sweeps of the laser, reloading every few minutes when the blue beam died. Corpses piled up before him, some still moving uselessly, others freshly dead.
Tassin handed him more power packs from the cart, but they were being used up rapidly. A sudden inspiration struck her, and she pulled the sonlar from the cart and handed it to him when next he turned for more power packs. He glanced at it, then fired a sweeping blast of booming white fire at the horde. Almost all of them vanished in a spray of crimson, coating the alien landscape beyond with red and brown blood and digging a crescent-shaped crater in the sand. The survivors ignored their fellows' death and continued towards their foes. The sonlar's boom had hardly faded when the air seemed to boil.
Fearsome beasts jostled each other as they stepped forth, and droves of blank-eyed ghouls accompanied them, filling the air with a foetid stench. The Core's power seemed infinite. Sabre annihilated the monsters again and again, but still more appeared, larger and more fearsome than ever. Ghouls were now absent from the throng, and packs of dire-wolves mingled with herds of scaly five-metre tall monstrosities wielding two-metre bone blades that grew from their cheeks.
Hordes of shaggy pig-eyed creatures whose broad, frog-like mouths were filled with shark teeth shambled beside giant insects that resembled scorpions, their stinging tails arched over their backs. Between their legs, six-metre snakes slithered at an amazing speed, striking at those around them, their cold green eyes turning constantly to the trio before them. Sabre wiped them out yet again, but the air continued to spew more forth.
Sabre turned, took Tassin's arm and yanked her around. "We can't hold them, there's too many, run!"
Tassin ran to the donkeys and hauled them forward. The beasts needed little inducement to break into a swift trot, their ears laid back, sensing the pursuit. Sabre followed, firing at monsters that threatened to overtake them, and the slower creatures were left behind, thinning the opposition. They ran through a Change, and a true desert replaced the scrub as Sabre caught up.
"Circle back, we're going the wrong way!"
Tassin pulled the donkeys, turning them. Dena panted alongside, hanging onto the harness and gripping a spent laser. Sabre dropped back to shoot two monsters, using his laser again. Many lumbering beasts still followed, but some loped off, apparently losing interest in the chase. By the time Sabre had shot the last of those that persisted, they were heading back towards the Core.
The soft sand that sucked at Tassin's feet made running strenuous. A Change came, and green grassland appeared, bringing welcome relief to her aching legs. A stitch tugged at her flank and her breath came in harsh gasps. Dena lost her grip on the harness and fell with a cry, and Tassin stopped the donkeys. Sabre scooped up the child and tossed her onto the cart, then hauled the donkeys forward. Tassin stumbled after him, clasping her side. For the moment, nothing appeared to block their way. It seemed they had left the entry point behind, and the monsters that still emerged from it, finding no prey, either wandered off or attacked each other.
The Core could not move the entry point once it had been established, apparently, so presumably it had to create a new one in each world. Tassin stumbled on numb legs, longing to shout at Sabre to stop, but determined not to. She hung onto the back of the cart instead, and was dragged behind it. He glanced back after a while and slowed the donkeys to a walk, for which she was most grateful. Sweat ran down her, and her legs burnt. Sabre had not begun to sweat or pant, and walked briskly beside the donkeys, alert for danger.
A sheer rock face appeared before them. Sabre stopped the donkeys and looked around. They stood in a deep canyon running at right angles to their path, preventing any travel in that direction. Rocky spires clawed at a grey sky, carved into odd shapes by wind and rain. Tassin sank down on the hard ground with a groan, her legs cramping, her gut lanced with pain from the stitch in her side. Sabre squatted beside her and handed her a water skin, and the water a soothed her dry throat. She glimpsed that indefinable emotion in his eyes, then he turned his head to scan the canyon for danger.
Without looking at her, he said, "You ride in the cart with Dena. From now on, we have to move fast. It seems we're getting close to the Core, and it's starting to really fight back. I'm going to have to use the sword; we must save the lasers."
She nodded. "I wonder where Purr is."
"If he's got any sense, he's far away by now."
Tassin nodded. "This is not his fight."
He turned to her, and his eyes bored into hers. "It isn't yours either. Tassin, please go back."
For a moment she was too surprised to say anything, then she shook her head. "No."
He jumped up. "You're a fool. You'll get us all killed."
"No, I won't. I've helped you already, fighting those things."
He snorted and stared down the canyon, his face grim.
Tassin shuddered, remembering the ghouls. "Those things were dead, weren't they?" She could still hardly believe they had not been part of a bad dream.
"Yeah. The first one said that people can't be changed. I think I know how it works now." He glanced at her. "The Core doesn't create these monsters, it changes them. It must draw them from the Flux-realities, then change them into the things we see. That explains Purr's memories of a time before he came here. But it can't change people. Apparently they die, so it reanimates them and uses their corpses with their spirits intact."
She swallowed. "Why do you say with their spirits intact?"
"Because the one who spoke got quite chatty back there. He was about to explain it all, and the Core stopped him. It controls them, but they aren't empty shells. They're still trapped in their rotting bodies."
She gulped, tasting bile. "That's horrible."
"Maybe that's why Purr came through with so little change. I don't know if he could shift before, but he's certainly no monster. If it's linked to intelligence, that might explain it. Purr's as clever as we are, but the other monsters are just animals, and so they could be changed, but people die from the shock."
She nodded. "Maybe it will let the ones we mutilated die now, since they're useless to it."
"Maybe. But it'll replace them. This thing isn't only intelligent and powerful, it's also evil. None of this is coincidental. I think that thing has a plan, probably to rule this planet."
"And kill all the people?"
He shrugged. "It doesn't need them. It can populate this world from the Flux-realities, or it might not want anything to live here. It all depends on what the Core is."
Tassin stared at him, then looked away when he glanced at her and drank some more water, her mind numb with horror.
The canyon vanished, and a chilly terrain of tough, sparse grass growing in frozen, snow-dappled ground replaced it. An icy wind tore at them as Tassin climbed to her feet, and Sabre boosted her into the cart. He pulled the donkeys forward, one braying in mournful protest. Dena crawled into Tassin's lap, and they huddled together for warmth. Sabre coaxed the donkeys into a trot, loping beside them at a mile eating pace. The bouncing cart jarred and jolted the girls despite the cushion of hay, but Tassin's throbbing legs were glad of the rest.
For a while, nothing attacked, and Sabre made swift progress over the tundra. Two relatively tame Changes passed, each of a shorter duration now, only a few minutes long. They were in a pretty Flux-world of verdant saffron grass and miniature blue trees when the guardians stepped forth again.
This time their pasty skins glowed with a sickly yellow light and their hollow eyes gleamed redly. Sabre leapt at the nearest without hesitation. Tassin gasped in horror and Dena shrieked, burrowing into the hay. Sabre drew the sword and slashed at the corpse's legs, sending it sprawling. As he struck, yellow light leapt from the zombie, arcing into him with a crackle of raw power.
Sabre gave a startled yell and arced over backwards like a mad acrobat. He landed heavily and writhed, his lips pulled back in a grimace of agony. The cyber band flashed red as he rolled, unable to control his limbs properly. A spark of yellow leapt from the brow band, and Sabre staggered to his feet. He looked dazed, then he bent and retrieved the sword, straightening to lunge at another zombie with a growl.
The donkeys turned and trotted away. Tassin dug Dena out of the hay and yelled, "Hold the donkeys!"
Gripping her dagger, Tassin jumped down. The apparitions terrified her, but she was determined to help Sabre. The ghouls raised their arms, and yellow light spat from their fingers, making him stagger. Each time he was hit, the cyber band flared red, and a spark shot from it. Each time the reaction of the control unit was faster, and Sabre's momentary incapacitation less. She ran towards a ghoul, her dagger raised. It turned and lashed her with a brilliant filament of light. Tassin screamed as incredible agony shot through her. Her limbs jerked uncontrollably, sending her sprawling, and blood flooded her mouth as she bit the inside if her cheek.
The excruciating pain paralysed her, making her arc rigidly until she thought her spine would snap. Sabre continued to hack at the ghouls, unable to come to her aid. The yellow power crackled around her, filling the air with static as it popped and banged into the ground. It seemed like an eternity that she lay there, helpless, waiting for a zombie to reach her and stamp out her life, but Sabre kept them away. The agony eased, allowing her to gasp as her muscles relaxed. The strange power trickled out of her into the ground, leaving her in a cold sweat. She scrambled to her feet, staggering sideways like a drunk.
Sabre shouted, "Get back!"
The ghouls converged on him while he hacked them down, and Tassin steadied herself. More and more zombies appeared, lifting their arms to attack Sabre with yellow fire. The cyber band flared constant red now, and he fought the jerking of his limbs to swing the sword. As the ghouls fell, the power drained out of them, leaving them thrashing. Tassin staggered forward again, attacking a ghoul from behind as it lashed out at Sabre with the strange power. Her dagger sank into the rotten flesh, and the yellow power flashed up it. Her muscles spasmed in uncontrollable jerks as the shock snapped through her, and she collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Tears blurred her vision, and again she lay helpless while the power coursed through her. A zombie loomed over her, but a slashing silver sword smashed it away in a spray of rotten flesh. Sabre stood over her, keeping the ghouls at bay. She still held the dagger, and forced herself to her feet again. The strange yellow light the zombies used did not seem lethal, only painful. Sabre had cleared a space around himself now. The ghouls tried to stay out of range of his sword, sending their yellow fire flashing across the gap. Sabre hacked down the last one near him and strode towards the others, which shuffled back.
Gasping with pain, Tassin blundered past him, intent on attacking another zombie. Sabre's hand flashed out and gripped the back of her dress, yanking her back.
"No! Get out of here!"
Tassin landed heavily on her rear, and anger surged through her in a molten tide. With a snarl, she went after him when he advanced on the ghouls, trying to dash past. Again he yanked her off her feet and hurled her backwards. This time she sprawled painfully, scraping her elbows. With a snarl of rage, she sprang up, giving him a wide berth to attack a ghoul.
"Tassin, no!"
Tassin flung herself at a portly, middle-aged man, and her dagger sank into his chest. Fire flashed up it, making her recoil with a shriek, her legs giving way. Sabre's sword swished over her, and the portly ghoul collapsed, his legs sliced through at the knee. Tassin writhed, and Sabre stood over her again, keeping the ghouls at bay with sweeps of his sword. Another lost its legs and fell, its glowing eyes dimming.
Tassin staggered to her feet, noticing dully that the world had Changed to a forest of bleached, long-dead grey trees. Ankle deep water sloshed around her feet, explaining the forest's demise. She took a step, and found her leg embedded in a dead tree from the knee down. Several zombies had suffered the same misfortune, their yellow glow dimming as their power drained into the wood. Sabre leapt at the remaining loose zombies, slicing through their legs.
As many as Sabre cut down, more kept coming, their yellow fire concentrated on him, though he hardly seemed to notice it now. He bared white teeth in a grimace while he attacked, the cyber band brilliant red. Flux-reality Changed, freeing Tassin, and an alien landscape of blue bulbous growths amid whip-like fronds of red vegetation winked into being.
Ignoring the alien vegetation imbedded in her legs, Tassin ran to one of the zombies that had been trapped in a tree and lacked the yellow glow. She hamstrung it with her dagger, and it collapsed. The red fronds snared another ghoul, whipped around it and tried to tear it apart while they fought over it. Tassin shuddered away from the fronds near her as the rotten corpse parted. Its pieces were fed to the bulbous growths, which opened toothless maws to accept the food like hungry chicks.
A lash of fire hit her, and she fell with a shriek, writhing while the pain drained away with the light. She struggled to her feet once more as Sabre ran after the retreating zombies. He ignored the yellow fire they poured into him, his sword sweeping through their legs. The fronds grabbed many who stumbled near them, dismembered them and stuffed them into the waiting blue mouths. Determined to help in spite of the agony that coursed through her, Tassin staggered towards a faded ghoul, hamstringing it. As the undead woman collapsed, she lashed out with a decayed fist, hitting Tassin in the face. She fell backwards and landed hard, her head striking a rock that had materialised instants before.
Flux-reality Changed again, and a world of stone replaced the predatory plants. The vegetation protruding from her legs vanished with the previous reality, but she hardly noticed. Momentarily stunned, she struggled to get up, the world spinning. As she regained her wobbly legs, another lash of yellow power struck her, sending her sprawling again. This time she lay gasping, sobs of pain racking her. She ached with a vengeful throbbing, and her limbs jerked as the power fizzed through her muscles. Her hands clawed at the dirt of a new world, seeking release from the pain. This time it persisted, holding her in an iron grip of agony. A red haze clouded her vision as she fought to breathe, her lungs locked by the rigidity that ruled her muscles.
The sounds of battle behind her ceased, and moments later Sabre knelt beside her. He dropped the sword and lifted her off the stony ground.
"You stupid little..." His jaw clenched. "You've absorbed too much, hold still."
Tassin gripped his arms, the agony in her bones causing tears to run down her cheeks. Sabre laid a cool hand on her forehead, and the already bright brow band flared. The pain flowed out of her, as it had done into the ground before, but now it streamed into Sabre. She relaxed when the agony diminished, her frantic gasps subsiding to deep breaths. He watched her with intense silver eyes, and she forced a tremulous smile.
"Better?"
She nodded. "How did you do that?"
He glanced around. "The control unit does it. The power they're using attacks the bones, since they're a metal; calcium. Water conducts it, so it goes through the body fast. But it earths to metal, like electricity, so when you fell, most of it went into the ground. But some of it remained behind, and if there isn't much metal in the ground, it leaks out more slowly."
His eyes flicked down to her. Droplets of sweat ran down his cheeks and gathered on his chin. "Every zap you got made it worse, and that last one almost killed you. With me, it went straight into the barrinium on my bones, and from there, to the cyber. As soon as the cyber had analysed it, it was able to disperse it quickly. Painful, but for me, not fatal. Although the scanners don't work in here, the cyber is still active. When I touched you, the power was drawn into me, due to my high metal content."
With a slight smile, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, studied his wet hand, and rubbed it on his trousers. "I never wanted any of this." He gestured. "I never asked to be a warrior, to fight and kill, but it seems I'm well equipped for it. You, on the other hand, have a choice, and you're making the wrong one. You could be killed. Your life is precious; you're a free person, you can do what you want, yet you're trying so hard to get killed."
"I am not! I was trying to help you."
"Yeah, I know. But you're not a warrior, no matter how much you say you are, no matter how hard you try. I wish you'd stay out of it. Even more, I wish you'd go home and marry a prince, have lots of babies, and be happy."
Tassin stared at him, longing to tell him that she would rather die by his side than be parted from him, but the words would not come. The intense sadness and fatigue on his sensitive face deepened the pain within her. The alien band on his forehead flashed, mocking her with its reminder that he belonged to another, alien world, far beyond her reach.
She looked away. "Well, I won't."
With a resigned sigh he helped her to sit up, and she looked around as another Change came. A pleasant world of green grass and forests winked into being, distant huts trailing wisps of smoke into a blue sky. The ghouls had vanished, even the legless ones.
"Where did they go?" she asked.
"Seems they'd had enough. They couldn't kill me with that power, so the Core is probably having a good think now." The red lights on the control unit dimmed, and Sabre settled more comfortably on the ground, wiping the fouled sword blade on the grass.
"I think I know what the Core is. The power that the ghouls were using is the same sort that's used in modern power stations to light cities and run cars. Normally it's pretty harmless; it only kills when highly concentrated.
"Long ago, they used something called electricity, but then they discovered this stuff, which is called neosin. It's all around us, easily drawn in by compilers and stored in special crystals. It's far more efficient than electricity; it doesn't need to be generated, and it can be stored forever."
Sabre rose and went over to the cart. Dena had succeeded in hanging onto the donkeys and leading them back. He led the animals over to Tassin and took a water skin and some food from the cart. Dena squatted next to him when he settled on the ground, gazing at him with wide, admiring eyes.
Sabre shot her a smile and winked while he sipped some water, then continued, "I think the Core is an ancient power crystal. Somehow, it's been mutated by the radioactivity that was released during the holocaust. Crystals grow, and they have some strange properties. This one has become intelligent, after a fashion. A truly alien intelligence, one we can't understand. It wants to grow larger still, and I'd guess that the Death Zone is meant to protect it. It probably sees us, its original masters, as a threat, and it's trying to wipe us out."
Tassin tried to quell the trembling that was spreading through her.
Sabre chewed some meat. "It has a problem now. It's found that it can't kill me with the neosin, at least, not in such small amounts, but the concentration in the crystal itself must be enormous. But I have an ally." He tapped the brow band. "No doubt the computer is working on the problem too, since it can read my thoughts, and knows my speculations. It should be figuring out a way to disperse vast amounts of that stuff."
Tassin clasped her knees as an uncontrollable shaking grew in her muscles. Sabre leant over and pulled her arms away, chafing her hands.
"Relax, it's just shock."
Holding her wrist with one hand, he rubbed the tense muscles of her shoulders and neck. Tingling shot through her at his touch, making her shiver. Gradually her tension leaked away, and he stopped, much to her chagrin, and patted Dena on the head. The child grinned at him, her eyes filled with adoration. The Flux-reality had Changed again, this time to a rolling golden pampas under a vermilion sky streaked with amber clouds. Sabre stood and pulled Tassin to her feet, then turned to her, holding her wrist. His brows gathered together, and his eyes were flinty.
"By the way, if you ever do anything so stupid again, I'll put you over my knee and paddle your backside, understand?"
Tassin's mouth dropped open. "I was trying to help you!"
"Then stop it. I don't want you to get killed."
"I got two of them!"
"Tassin, you may be used to getting your own way, and having people fall over each other to do your bidding, but I'm trying to keep you alive, so don't make my job any harder."
"You would not dare to... to...."
"Paddle your backside? You bet I would. What could you do about it?" He folded his arms. Fresh blood seeped through the bandages on his forearms, and the ghouls' fire had reddened his chest. She glared at him, unable to think of anything. He smiled and walked back to the cart. By the time they reached it, the world had Changed to one of strange clumps of vine-laden black trees growing between purple creepers sprinkled with pink flowers.
Dena looked up at Sabre. "Are the monsters gone?"
He tousled her hair. "For now. At least you have the sense to stay out of the way, huh?"
Tassin shot him a dirty look, and Dena shrugged. "Not my fight."
Dena scrambled onto the cart, and they headed towards the Core again. They travelled through two Changes, one tame, the other quite nasty: a world of steaming sludge lighted by two red suns. A strange belt of mist became visible ahead, obscuring the distant trees of the next world, one filled with bright blue butterflies and tracts of sombre forest. The mist seemed out of place, like a cloud that had settled on the ground. When the Flux-reality Changed, the mist remained.
Sabre eyed it. "Well, well. It seems we're closer than I thought." He urged the donkeys into a trot. "Let's get to it before it thinks up a new strategy."
Tassin was puffing by the time they reached the mist, and the Changes swept through the land at an alarming speed. A world of black rock streaked with gold replaced a landscape of scarlet grass dotted with obscene pink mushrooms. As they drew near the mist, the air parted and a guardian stepped forth. He was an old man, thin and bent, his grey hair and beard wild and unkempt. Unlike the others, he wore a tattered robe of dirty white cotton. He held up a claw-like hand.
"Stop!" His eyes glowed red, and the yellow power shimmered under his skin. "You seek to challenge the Core itself, fool, you will die."
Sabre stopped and eyed him. "Getting scared, is it?"
The old man almost smiled, then his face stiffened. "Turn back now, and you will be spared."
"I didn't come all this way to give up now," Sabre retorted.
The ghoul pointed at Sabre, and a brilliant bolt of yellow light arced from his finger into the cyber. He stiffened, his jaw clenching. The brow band flared as it shed the neosin in a blazing conduit that arced into the ground. The old ghoul's glow dimmed, and he lowered his hand. The world Changed to a bleak vista of twisted grey trees, and an icy wind plucked at them.
Sabre glared at the old ghoul. "You'd better run along and get charged up again, old man."
The ghoul swung and pointed at Tassin. Sabre reacted in the instant before another bolt of neosin, weaker than the first, flashed towards her. He hurled the sword into the fire's path, and the neosin arced into it, drawn to the metal. It fell to the ground with a clang, tongues of fire crawling over it. The old ghoul lowered his arm, drained of power, his eyes a dim red glow.
"You will die, and if not you, she will." He vanished.
Sabre glanced at Tassin. "Great, it's figured out my weakness. A certain stubborn female, if I'm not mistaken."
"If it kills me, so be it."
"Don't give me that fatalistic crap." He stepped closer to her. "It hasn't even noticed Dena, because she's kept out of the way, but now you're a target."
Tassin glowered at him. Sabre walked over to the sword, which was still bathed in fire. He winced when he picked it up. The neosin flashed into his hand, making the brow band flare. A world of grey, slashing rain washed over them in a freezing downpour, drenching them in moments while thunder roared and lightning crackled. They hunched over for the brief time that it took to pass, emerging into the next Flux-reality dry but chilled.
Changes flowed through the land, jungle, desert, snow, volcanic, forest, pampas, cultivated, ruins. Each one was different, some alien, some ordinary. They were only a few seconds apart now. Faint tugs pulled at her as she shared space with the ever changing Flux-realities. It was no longer alarming; the Changes were so fast that it was impossible to avoid the brief entrapments. There was also a faint pushing sensation, barely noticeable, as if whatever lay within the mist repelled her.
Sabre faced the mist wall, his expression grim. "This is it, I guess. Time to see if the spacer who brought me was right in thinking that a cyber could defeat this thing." He turned to them. "Tassin, I want you to stay here with Dena and the cart, will you do that?"
She raised her chin. "No."
"I thought not. But you're not coming; it's too dangerous now." He shook his head. "It always was too dangerous. I must have been mad to let you come. I should have taken you to Arlin and had them lock you in a dungeon until this was over."
"You had no choice, and they wouldn't have done it. I'm their queen."
He fingered the sword's edge, testing its sharpness without looking at her. "Well, I'm making a choice now, and you're staying here, where it's safe."
"It is not safe! What if something attacks us?"
"If not for your stubbornness, you would be on your way to Arlin now. How safe do you think you'll be in there?" He gestured at the mist with the sword. "Purr said that the monsters don't come near the Core, and it has no reason to attack you if you're out here; it'll be too busy dealing with me."
"No! We should stay together."
He studied the sword again, his words slow and weary. "If I succeed in destroying the Core, it will probably be fatal for anyone close to it. That means me, and you, if you're there. Stay here with Dena where you'll be safe, and once the Core's gone, the Death Zone will collapse and you'll be able to get home."
"No."
With a sigh, he turned to face her, stabbing the sword into the ground as he finally met her eyes with his guarded grey ones. "You're the damnedest, most mule-headed female I've ever met, do you know that?" She gulped when he raised a hand to stroke her cheek. "I can't allow you to put yourself in danger. Hopefully, I'll be back. If not, you'll have to make it on your own, and use the weapons to reclaim your kingdom, but for now, I'm sorry."
Sabre took hold of her arms, and his sudden change of tactics stunned her. Her heart leapt and started to hammer, and her mouth went dry as he leant closer. He solved the mystery of his intentions when he pinned her wrists with one hand and pushed her back against the cart. Reaching past her, he pulled a length of material from the packs. Tassin struggled while he twined it around her wrists, trying to kick his shins. He dodged her kicks and held her easily. Realising that it was completely idiotic to try to fight him, she resorted to verbal abuse, which he ignored. He tied her ankles together, and in moments she was trussed. Lifting her into the cart, he placed her on the hay.
"Damn you, Sabre, you'll pay for this!"
He turned to Dena. "You know how to use the lasers, don't you?"
The little girl nodded, her eyes wide.
"Good." He dug out some power packs, reloading his laser and the sonlar. "It's up to you to guard Tassin, but I doubt you'll have to. When the Flux-reality fades, untie her, but not before, understand?"
"But she's the Queen."
"I don't care. Don't listen to her, okay? It's for her own good. You don't want her to die, do you?"
The child shook her head.
"Good girl." He tousled her hair and turned to Tassin. "You got your wish. You're at the Core, but you'll not come any closer."
"You bastard! You can't do this! I order you to release me at once!"
Surprisingly, her words brought no reaction from the control unit. Apparently in this instance it agreed with him. He picked up the sword and sheathed it across his back. "Sorry, Your Majesty, but I can't oblige."
"Sabre!" Tassin shouted as he turned and walked towards the mist. "Sabre! Don't leave me!" She struggled, hurting her wrists. "Sabre! Please!"
The mist swallowed him, and Tassin turned on Dena in frustrated fury. "Untie me, now!"
The child shook her head, stepping back. Tassin strained at the bonds, but to no avail. Why did it not surprise her that Sabre was an expert at securing prisoners? At that moment she almost hated him, for leaving her, for denying her more time with him, but most of all, for sacrificing himself. She rolled onto her side and curled up in a ball of misery, unable to stem the tears that stung her eyes. Dena climbed into the cart and stroked her hair.
"Don't cry, please. He's only trying to keep you safe."
"He needs me! He'll be killed!"
Dena shook her head, looking wise beyond her years. "He doesn't need anyone. He never has, and never will."
Tassin stared at the child, shocked. "What do you mean?"
"He's used to being alone, and he's very sad, deep down." Dena touched her chest. "He doesn't want you hurt."
"How do you know?"
Dena shrugged. "I can sense it. He doesn't care about himself."
Fresh tears leaked from Tassin's eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of, Dena. I don't want him to die!"
"You can do nothing."
"I can!" She glared at the girl. "If he has to protect me, he can't let himself be killed. Don't you see? Without me there, he has no reason to survive."
"So you know too."
"Yes." Tassin sniffed. "He's convinced that Manutim will come back and take him away; make him a prisoner to that... thing on his head again."
"And you don't think so?"
"I don't know. It could be a while before Manutim returns, anyway. I'll try to save him. The wizard is my friend."
"Maybe you can't." Dena stared at the changing landscape, her soft voice filled with pain. Flux-realities swept past like a lighthouse's beam, the brown and green flashes constantly lighting the ground.
"But I have to try!" Tassin cried. "Untie me, Dena, let me go after him, then he will have to survive."
The child gazed at Tassin's tear-streaked face. "Or you'll be killed too, and I'll be alone."
Tassin slumped as a passing world of pouring rain drenched her. Moments later she was dry when a hot, arid Flux-reality swept through, then a transient snowy landscape chilled her.
Sabre walked towards the mist, refusing to glance back even though the despair in Tassin's voice made his chest ache. She would be all right. Once the Core was destroyed the Flux-realities would fade and they could travel safely to Arlin, where they could use the weapons to fight Torrian. He did not allow himself to think of what would happen to her if he failed. He would not fail. Cybers did not fail.
Sabre entered the mist's damp silence. Flux-realities, obscured by the vapour, flashed past. The tug of trees and rocks catching him momentarily within their substance slowed his progress. The Changes speeded up as he drew nearer to the Core, and the tugs became more frequent. The force that pushed against him grew stronger, and he leant into it as if walking in a strong wind. The mist took on a purple tinge, and he became aware of a faint, disturbing sound, like the harsh cry of a raven mingled with the pealing of a distant bell. Musical, yet discordant, sweeping past like a rotating beam of sound.
The mist thickened into a damp cloud that swirled about him, reducing visibility to less than a metre. He tripped over a ruined wall and sprawled on sharp-edged rubble with a curse. The Changes did not affect the ruins, so they were Real-reality. Broken concrete streaked with rust from twisted reinforcing littered the ground. He walked on, and floundered when the terrain turned to bog as a Flux-reality swept through. Almost immediately it changed to soil, and he was embedded knee deep. He struggled to free himself from soil, then rock, then soil again. He tried to dig at it with the sword, but each new Flux-reality erased his efforts.
Another marsh world swept through, and he pulled one leg clear, but the other sank to mid-thigh. Cursing, he strained to pull it free, clutching at rocks and trees that vanished under his groping hands. For an instant a tree trunk impaled him, stopping his breath, then it was gone. The mist swirled, and he caught a glimpse of an ancient sign lying on the ground a few feet away. Corrosion pitted the aluminium, and the blistered, peeling paint bled white powder. The ragged black letters said 'Anneril Power Station'.
"Anneril," he muttered. "So that's what you were called."
A desert world swept through, and he was able to pull his leg from the sand. Soil replaced it, and he stood up. Walking past the sign, he groped through the mist, occasionally bumping into trees or rocks that appeared in front of him. Twice, trees shared space with him for a moment, a disconcerting sensation.
His boots crunched on the ruins of the power station as he avoided rusted wire and girders. Something red caught his eye, and he bent to examine it. A child's doll stared up at him with painted eyes, its tattered red dress damp and mildewed. A little girl must have dropped it when this monstrous alien had torn her from her world, killed her and changed her into a zombie, then forced her to serve it. Undoubtedly her bereaved parents still wondered how their child had vanished without a trace.
Sabre walked on, leaving the pathetic toy to rot. A movement ahead made him stop and raise the sword. A ghoul appeared through the mist, its red eyes aglow, its skin bright with yellow power. Sabre stepped forward and swung the sword as the ghoul raised its hands. Twin streams of yellow fire burst from its fingers and struck his chest. He staggered back as pain lanced through him, making him gasp.
A cool wave swept over him as the cyber dispersed the neosin, but it continued to flow from the ghoul. Struggling with sluggish muscles, Sabre swung the sword, glimpsing the umbilical of golden light that led away from the zombie. The ghoul fell, its legs sliced through, and the umbilical vanished as its power drained into the ground. Seconds later the creature vanished too, and Sabre was alone again, aching from the attack. When the pain in his muscles eased, and he walked on.
"Try again, you radioactive piece of shit," he muttered.
Sabre waded through the mist and pushing force, only the tugging of the Flux-reality hindering him. The harsh peals grew louder, sweeping past at regular intervals like an audible lighthouse beam. The mist's purple glow brightened to pink, and he strained to see ahead. He knew the Core must be close now, for it was becoming more difficult to push through the repelling force. Then the force vanished, the mist parted, and he stumbled into a clear zone. A column of pure air rose into a brilliant blue patch of real sky. The Flux-realities had been left behind in the mist. Smooth concrete stretched away, and he stopped to stare at the amazing sight that confronted him.
The Core crystal hung a metre and a half above the ground, revolving with slow, majestic beauty. Its facets split the sunlight into a web of rainbow radiance, filling the air with glorious patterns of drifting, sparkling luminescence. It towered into the sky, as tall as a three-storey building, the lower part still carved in its original man-made hexagonal shape, no more than two metres in height and breadth. In the seven hundred-odd years since the holocaust, however, Anneril had done a lot of growing. The upper section spread over him in a wild citadel of spires and columns, a glowing filigree of lacy crystal shot with scintillating light. Its terrible beauty transfixed him, drawing his eyes into the play of colour within it and the glow of power that shone from it with a pure, rosy light.
Nebulous vertical sheets of silver glow radiated from it, sweeping through him with a faint icy tingle as the Core rotated. Each was the root of a Flux-reality, a one-way gate to millions of worlds. Sabre gazed up at the megalith, daunted by its size. Beneath it yawned the dark hole from which it had emerged, far too small now for the immense thing it had become. The harsh peals seemed sweeter now, more musical, and a soft hum of unlimited power underscored them. Its unexpected beauty astounded him. He had envisioned a misshapen lump of crystal as grotesque and malformed as its creations, corrupted by its evil power, as ugly as its deeds, but not this. Its fearful symmetry was a wonder to behold, its radiance god-like in its purity. A simple man might have worshipped such a cold, pure entity, so unrelated to fleshy creatures.
It was evil, however. Sabre had to remind himself of this as he gazed at its splendour. He recalled the horror it had inflicted upon the innocent people it captured, and those it massacred outside the Death Zone with its monstrous creations, hapless animals that suffered terribly from their mutations before they died. This being was as cold and hard as the crystal from which it was made. It possessed no humanity, no vestige of pity or love, no trace of compassion or tenderness. It destroyed the living world around it without remorse, and it had to be stopped.
The old ghoul stepped from the air a few feet away, his glow restored. He regarded Sabre for a moment, then spoke in a flat, expressionless tone.
"You have done well, human, to win through my defences, but they were not really necessary. Be assured, you will not prevail against me." This time, Sabre gathered, the guardian was merely the instrument through which the Core spoke; the words were its own. "You and your puny race, which once enslaved me, will pay for your crimes."
Sabre understood the cold reasoning behind the Core's actions, which its words revealed. If this entity had one emotion, it was hatred. His assumption that the sentient crystal merely wished to control its environment was wrong. The Core had memories, and it wanted vengeance.
He addressed the crystal. "They've done nothing to you. Those who used you are long dead."
The rotting remains of the old man spoke the Core's words. "They are the same sort. They destroy everything they touch. Their existence is a threat to every other living thing. Their arrogance is monumental and their stupidity colossal. They are a disease on this planet, and I am the cure."
"They created you," Sabre pointed out.
"They did not create me!" The zombie's voice cracked as it rose, his face twisting with the Core's hatred. "They cut me from my mother's womb, took me from the earth and forced me to store their vile power. They shaped me to fit their will. What right had they? For a million years I sang my mother's songs and rejoiced in the tides of power that surged through the rock. I was voiceless and inert, but content. The magic of this world, mixed with the foul corruption the humans released, taught me to hate. You are nothing to me. A grease spot to be wiped away, a weak thing of flesh, a bag of water with a few additives. What are you, compared to me?"
"You're certainly a thing of beauty, but what you're doing is evil."
The ghoul's face relaxed, and his grating voice softened. "What do you know of beauty? Who are you to judge evil, when evil is in all of you? You are blind. You cannot see the beauty of the earth. You are deaf to the song of the wind and sea. You grub in the soil for knowledge, but you scratch the surface and pass it by, for the truth of the world would rob you of sanity and drown your puny mind. You are filth!"
Sabre gazed at the crystal with something akin to regret. The entity, no matter how unique and beautiful, was also unshakeably bent on revenge. It could not be reasoned with. "Well, this piece of filth is here to stop you from wreaking havoc on innocent people, and if you won't stop of your own free will, I'll have to destroy you."
The ghoul gave a hollow cackle. "You? I shall smear you to ash."
"Yeah, well, maybe you will and maybe you won't. I'm pretty hard to kill."
Sabre drew his laser and set the power level to full. The crystal's harsh bell-peals deepened, and the old ghoul vanished. Evidently the conversation was over. He studied the crystal, looking for flaws or some sign of weakness in its structure. Taking aim at the junction between the old crystal and the new growth, he fired. The crystal absorbed the blue beam and its light flared, throwing out shards of rainbow-hued incandescence.
Sabre kept firing, pouring the heat of concentrated light into the massive crystal. A normal crystal would have shattered, for only diamond could survive a laser beam, and the special, ultra-pure crystals that were used in the laser itself. This was an ancient power crystal, and should not have the ability to withstand the laser's beam. The light within the crystal shrank to a brilliant point, then lashed out in a crackling rope of golden fire.
It struck him in the chest with a sizzling bang, lifted him off his feet and sent him sprawling, pinning him under a merciless torrent of power. Agony held him in an iron grip, and he writhed, teeth bared, the laser falling from nerveless fingers. The stench of burning flesh assailed him as his chest blistered. Neosin ran along his barrinium-plated bones in liquid agony, channelled to the brow band. Yellow fire shot from it and arced back into the Core, which absorbed it with a blinding flash. The Core thrummed, emanating deep vibrations that shook the ground.
The fire vanished, and Sabre gasped as the pain ebbed, the cyber shedding the neosin he had absorbed. He groaned, rolling his head from side to side. His chest and bones burnt with a sullen ache that made him grit his teeth, and for a several moments the agony paralysed him. As it abated, the light from the cyber band died, and he rolled onto his side, then levered himself to his knees.
The Core blazed, flashes of white light strobing the air around it. He glared at it, striving to ignore the pain. The laser lay where he had dropped it, but as he reached for it a second bolt of golden fire reduced the weapon to a lump of twisted metal. He smiled wryly. The laser was useless anyway. Climbing to his feet, he drew the sonlar. Coherent light was no good, but crystals were vulnerable to sound waves.
The Core did not wait for his next effort. It smashed him backwards with another lance of light, but he rolled free of it and the beam struck the concrete with a bang. Sabre forced himself to his feet, fighting the crippling pain of the neosin that coursed through him. As he raised the sonlar, the Core struck again. Sabre leapt aside, avoiding the fire by a hair's breadth. Another bolt of golden power stuck the concrete behind him as he spun away just in time. As yet another point of brilliance blossomed within the crystal, he raised the sonlar and fired. The white light and subsonic sound waves struck the crystal together with a terrific boom.
A massive blast of sound engulfed him as the Core amplified the sonlar's waves and sent them back threefold. He staggered, clutching his ears. The Core rang like a mighty gong, and the world went mad. Huge swirls of Flux-reality invaded the clear area around the crystal, filling it with distorted, running scenes of alien worlds, smeared and stretched beyond comprehension. The light faded as the mist closed overhead, blocking out the sky, and with it, the last dregs of sanity.
The Core resonated, its outline shimmering, and from high above came the faint chiming, pinging sounds of shattering crystal. Sabre looked up as millions of shards rained down. They flashed in a diamond cascade, smashing on the concrete with chiming, ringing notes, a harsh cacophony of dissonance. A sharp stab in his shoulder made him grunt, and a flash of pain shot from his scalp. Another shard opened a gash on the back of his head, while more hit his shoulders and back. Many bounced off, but some tore into him. He raised his hands to shield his head and backed away, but not fast enough to escape the crystal rain before it ended mere seconds later.
Chaos raged around him. Flux-realities smeared together as strange worlds invaded others in an insane medley of unrelated scenes. The concrete remained firm beneath his feet, even though his eyes told him that he stood atop a waterfall, above a canyon and then upon a raging sea. A glimpse of movement nearby stabilised, and a spotted cat-like creature solidified next to him, contorting and screaming with pain and terror as the Core mutated it. Its fangs lengthened, huge claws sprouted from its paws, and its back arched, bones straining at its hide as it was forced into a new shape.
Sabre pointed the sonlar at it and fired. The flash and boom left shredded meat and a red smear on the pulverised concrete. Another black creature was torn from Flux-reality, distorting as it spanned the gap between worlds, howling with rage and pain as it was twisted. Sabre reduced it to another red smear, then wiped the blood that trickled down his forehead from his eyes, his numb ears filled with a faint, distressing whine.
Sabre turned to face the Core, which now wobbled slightly, its lines of force corrupted, its power chaotic with disharmony. The crystal citadel of graceful columns at its top was a ruin of jagged stumps. It had sunk lower, and hung less than a metre above the ground, radiating power to stay aloft. Sabre had a terrible vision of what would happen if the spinning crystal struck the ground. He doubted he would survive. The crystal still thrummed, but to Sabre it was a muted, faraway sound. Amazingly, it had survived the sonlar.
Dena shrieked and clutched her ears as a massive sound wave hit them with a thunderous boom, rocking the cart. The donkeys brayed, their ears flattened as they struggled against the harness, pulling at each other and going nowhere. Tassin writhed, straining at her bonds. Flux-reality twitched and went wild. Tassin closed her eyes to block out the swirling madness of lurid skies mixed with airborne landscapes, sea and snow raging through jungles and deserts. Wind tore at them as the temperature swung madly from hot to cold and back. Rain splattered down, followed by a second of intense heat, then hail pelted them with frigid balls of ice, vanishing moments later.
The child screamed again, and Tassin opened her eyes. A creature was torn from a Flux-reality and warped beyond belief, its mouth open in a soundless scream of pain and terror. For a moment its agonised eyes met hers, then it disintegrated into a mangled mass of meat and bones. The roaring gong-drone hammered at her ears, and the cart bucked and rocked as the ground twisted and heaved. The donkeys brayed and struggled as the raging madness pelted them with every conceivable kind of weather and a few that no one had ever encountered before.
"Dena! Untie me!" Tassin yelled, twisting to look at the huddled child.
Dena sobbed, scrambled over to her and tugged the knots undone, tears streaking her grimy cheeks. Tassin winced at the horror around them and hugged the child. Dena buried her face in Tassin's midriff, her arms tight about her waist. Another creature appeared in the chaos, rolling and thrashing as it went through a series of hideous mutations, then it was torn apart in a spray of blood. The gong-drone lessened, and Tassin leant close to the child.
"Dena! I have to find Sabre! I must help him!"
"No! Don't leave me!" Dena wailed, raising white-ringed eyes.
"I have to help him! You'll be safe here."
"No!" Dena shrieked as Tassin tried to pry her arms away.
She gripped the girl's shoulders and shook her. "Stop it! You must be brave!"
Dena's eyes flitted to the flickering chaos. "What if you don't come back?"
"I will. Stay here and keep the donkeys calm."
Tassin disentangled herself from the shaking child and jumped down. Checking her weapons, she loped in the direction Sabre had gone, her heart pounding. The ground shifted, making her stumble. Branches whipped her, sea water splashed her, and the wind tore at her like a living thing. She rebounded off a tree that appeared and vanished before her, twisting into a smeared desert. Her chin throbbed as she stumbled on, tripped over rocks and splashed through streams that flowed through the air. A galleon sailed past above her, its sails in rags, its crew howling its terror to the wind. She encountered a kneeling zombie, its shrivelled face agape to scream in terrified agony as its decayed hands clawed at its shredding body.
Chaos reigned. Stones pelted her, sand stung her, and branches clawed at her like wooden hands. Tatters of pink mist swirled around her, and the sky glowed lurid red. She collided with a rock cliff that appeared in front of her and stumbled back to sit down hard, cursed and raised a hand to her throbbing face. Blood ran from her nose and split lip, and a lump swelled on her forehead. Scrambling to her feet, she pressed on, a hand outstretched to ward off other unexpected obstacles.
A bolt of lightning hit the ground only a metre away, and she staggered away from it, shaking with shock. Tripping over a low wall, she sprawled on rubble-strewn ground, adding more scrapes and bruises to her already extensive collection. As she climbed to her feet again, something wet and hairy slammed into her, making her recoil with a yell as a twisting Flux-creature reeled past, tearing at its distorting body. She fled, vomit crawling up her throat.
A second wave of sound, accompanied by a hissing scythe of golden power, sent her sprawling on her back. The unfocussed neosin crawled over her in a mantle, sinking into her hands, head and ribs. It passed through her in a wave of throbbing agony, most draining into the ground. She lay gasping, her ears ringing, then scrambled to her feet once more. The world grew darker as the pink light faded to crimson. The glow was brighter ahead, and she ran towards it, filled with dread that Sabre was dead.
Sabre writhed on a carpet of smashed crystal, clasping his ears as pain lanced into his head. The gong-roar muted, and he lowered his hands, finding them bloody. The second sonlar shot had evinced an unexpected retaliation from the Core. It had amplified the resonance and sent it back with mind-bending force, accompanied by an unfocussed outpouring of neosin that had reddened his skin and made his eyes water. A heavy weight fell on him, and he stared into a ghoul's gaping, decayed face.
With a grunt of disgust, he hurled it off and leapt to his feet, pulping the rotten corpse with a kick. The creature grabbed his ankle, and he shook it off, only to find himself surrounded. Ghouls clawed at him with bony hands, their sunken eyes blank and decayed, mouths open. He smashed them away, but more pressed forward. Raising the sonlar, he pressed the trigger and swept it through them, shredding them to globs of rotten meat and splinters of bone.
The Core's light had changed to deep crimson with pulsing pink hues, and a golden nimbus kept it airborne. Its spin had slowed, and, as he watched, it stopped. Its beauty was gone with its radiance and filigree crown, and the red mist formed a hellish scene.
Sabre stared at it. Two sonic laser blasts had not significantly damaged the crystal, and now it had learnt to turn the sound waves against him with its natural resonance. A cry behind him made him spin around. Tassin stood a few metres away, gazing at him, her hands and arms bruised and bloody, her eyes filled with horror. A wave of cold fear went through him, and he cursed.
"Go back!"
Tassin's eyes flicked past him and widened. Sabre swung back to the Core as the light gathered in its centre. He raised the sonlar, then realised that the sonic backlash would kill her. Dropping the weapon, he gripped the hilt of the sword across his back and drew it.
Tassin tore her gaze from the monstrous crimson crystal as Sabre drew the sword. The blade reflected the fiery light, making it look like it was formed from flame.
As he raised it and charged the Core, she shouted, "No!"
Sabre swung the sword high and smashed it down with all his might as the Core released the bolt. The sword struck the crystal with a screeching chime. The fire leapt into the blade and raced up it. Sabre's back arched, and he flung back his head with a cry of agony. For an instant he glowed golden, then the fire erupted from the control unit in a great flame that rose high into the air and arced back into the Core. Tassin clamped a hand over her mouth as Sabre's legs buckled. He clung to the sword, trapped in the circle of power.
It seemed an eternity that he hung there, a living conductor for energies that would have reduced a city to ash. The sword was sunk into the crystal for half its length, and Sabre's hands were locked around the hilt, his muscles rigid as the neosin flowed through him. His scream died as he ran out of air, and he drew a harsh breath. The neosin crawled over his skin, some flowing into the ground. It seemed incredible that he still lived, and Tassin ran forward, wanting to end his torture but not knowing how. A spark of gold leapt at her, but all the Core's power was channelled into Sabre, and it was trapped as much as he. The sword tapped it, and the Core sank lower.
Sabre straightened his legs, every effort clearly a fresh torture. He twisted the sword, his back muscles writhing as he sought to plunge it deeper.
The Core gave a chiming crack.
Slowly, like a man underwater, he turned his head. His eyes were closed and his brows drawn together as he struggled against the agony. She barely heard his shout over the Core's rising thrum.
"Go!"
Tassin hesitated, torn by her longing to save him and the knowledge that she could not.
"Run!"
The Core made a tinkling sound, and a shard of crystal fell from above to smash near her, spraying razor splinters. She cried out as one slashed her leg, and backed away. The thrum deepened and the fire that burnt through Sabre brightened, streaked with silver. He cried out again, and the Core touched the ground. It flared brilliant white, and Tassin staggered back, shielding her eyes. Sabre was silhouetted against it, clinging to the sword. He straightened, and the Core gave a grating creak.
Terrified, she fled.
Sabre could not release the sword. It seemed as if his hands were welded to it. He shifted, trying to block out the white-hot agony that seared him. With the last of his waning strength, he thrust the sword in, twisting it. The Core gave an almost human groan. The light burnt through his eyelids, and he dared not open them lest he be blinded. He sensed that Tassin was no longer behind him, and prayed she had reached safety.
The Core chimed. There was a dull crack, followed by a creaking, ringing sound as crystal tore. The cracking sounds continued, like ice in warm water, pinging, clicking, chiming. Then it exploded.
Raw fire swept through him, and he screamed again. Visions flashed before his eyes. The surgeons with their flaying lasers, the trainers' electric prods, the pain of abused muscles, bruised joints and strained lungs. The cyber's domineering, exacting torture. The roar of the explosion seemed distant. Fire engulfed him, and agony flared from his chest and legs. His head was smashed back and twisted aside. The shockwave lifted him and flung him backwards. Hard cold objects ripped into his skin. He went limp, and the ground knocked the wind out of him.
Sabre opened his eyes. Where the Core had been, an expanding ball of pink dust spread rapidly outwards, crackling bolts of golden flame arcing into the ground. The mist rolled back before the cloud of crystal dust, which swept out and settled in a gentle, sparkling rain. Sabre closed his eyes, and he was falling again.
Tassin tripped over the ruined wall a moment before the brilliant flash almost blinded her, and a thunderous roar hammered her ears. Rolling into the lee of the wall, she clasped her head and prayed. The shockwave swept over her, tugging at her, then flying crystal filled the air. It whined and hummed as it flew past, smashing into the chaotic Flux-reality with sharp reports. Some shattered against the wall, making her jump and cry out. Icy splinters fell on her back, and she yelped as one stabbed her leg. The explosion's rumble rolled away, leaving a moment of eerie silence, then wind howled past her as air rushed back into the void the explosion had caused.
Rain and mist mingled with twisted columns of black cloud in the cataclysm's aftermath. The air pressure stabilised and the wind rebounded, gusting with snow and hot rain, whipped into whirling eddies that twisted dust into the air. Tassin raised her head, staring about in horror. She crouched in a sea of crystal. Over it, Flux-reality warped unbelievably in shimmering, violent chaos. Her eyes filled with stinging tears. No one could have survived that explosion. She bowed her head and sobbed, cursing the world, and fate, but most of all, the Core.
Rising shakily to her feet, she pulled the sliver of crystal out of her leg with a hiss and looked around again. Where the Core had been, a pure white column of mist rose into the sky, aglow with sunlight. She climbed over the wall and walked towards it, her mouth dry. Her stomach churned at the thought of Sabre lying amongst the smashed crystal, bloody and mangled. She ignored the twisting Flux-realities that cavorted around her in a wild dance of madness. Warped landscapes mingled with silently screaming creatures torn between meshed realms. Within the Core's domain, they were merely fleeting mirages of ghostly corruption.
A huge crater marked the place where the Core had hovered. Chunks of concrete lay in jagged piles, twisted reinforcing thrusting from them like bones protruding from a corpse. She shuddered, scanning the ground for Sabre's body. She wondered if he had been thrown clear or shredded. Bile stung her throat, and she thrust the thought away. Steam rose from the ground, swirling around her, and Flux-realities flickered through it.
A glint of gold caught her eye, and she hurried towards it. Sabre's sword lay there, oddly golden, its blade aglow with preternatural light. As she approached, she realised that it hummed, and stopped, staring at the weapon. The hilt was warped into an intricate shape that defied the imagination. No craftsman could have sculpted such a hilt; the lines were too fine, the strange patterns too detailed. As she gazed at it, the pattern changed. Tassin blinked, frowning. The sword's thrum grew louder, its glow brightening. She stepped back, and it whined, a faint chiming, then with a flash it turned to crystal.
Tassin rasped, "The Core!"
The sword whined again, a rainbow nimbus surrounding it. Hatred burnt her blood, and she grabbed a chunk of concrete and smashed it down on the crystal weapon. It gave a pealing chime as the rock bounced off. The sword was gold once more, unscathed.
"Hateful thing!" Tassin shouted, "You should have been destroyed!" She kicked dirt at it. "You'll rot here! You're not crystal anymore. Without someone to take care of you, you'll rust away!"
The sword made a series of sweet, melodic chimes. She spat at it and walked away.
Sabre fell through a maelstrom of madness. Swirling colours darted and congealed, weird forms loomed and vanished. Cat-like, he fought for balance, tried to get his feet under him, but there was no up or down, only a tumbling fall into chaos. Visions flashed before his eyes, fleeting images a life he had not seen clearly before, now revealed in sharp focus. The nursery pen, filled with hundreds of identical boys. He screamed. His flesh seemed to melt, then reform, and pain flashed through him.
The cyber hummed. He sensed the vibrations vaguely, a distant sensation utterly devoid of presence. He fell. An instructor thrust a goad into his back, making him writhe and bellow, but with a boy's cracked, unformed voice. The cyber's hum deepened, its vibrations penetrating his head, and he gripped the band. The surgeons' lasers flashed, peeling away his flesh. They thrust their hands into him, and the mind-bending agony increased.
Sabre fought for sanity, clawing at the fabric of reality while he tried to stem the rising tide of blackness that threatened to engulf him. The cyber flashed red warnings in his mind, evicting him from the terrible nightmare with pulses of pain. The scrolling readouts zipped past, almost too fast to read, but he glimpsed some numbers and words. His bio-status was in the red, and several alerts flashed. He was in a vacuum, then a super-hot atmosphere of methane gas, then the icy chill of pure hydrogen. He screamed again, falling into nothingness, surrounded by madness.
Tassin stumbled over the ruined wall again, her breath coming in frantic gasps, her mind numb with despair. She could not find Sabre. Crystal shards crunched under her shoes as she hurried back to where the sword lay thrumming. She approached it cautiously, unsure of its danger. The possibility that the explosion had shredded Sabre into a bloody smear kept thrusting itself at her, but she refused to believe it. Something of him must remain. A mere explosion could not destroy the armour on his bones.
Only electricity could melt barrinium, not neosin, which he had described as relatively safe, unable to kill except in concentrated amounts. There had to be something left of him, and she could not give up until she found the proof that he was dead. She wondered why the sword hummed. It appeared to be using its power for something, but what? She scanned the swirling chaos, but the madness made her eyes hurt, and she looked away. A flash caught her attention, and she glanced at the sword, which had turned to crystal again. It whined, then chimed and reverted to metal.
Sabre twisted in the terrifying nothingness, and now he could not breathe. The searing cold of absolute zero burnt his skin with its frigid touch, and his lungs craved air that he could not inhale. The cyber's hum rose to a startling, painful pitch, making him want to clap his hands over his ears to block it out, but he knew it would do no good. The infuriating whine rose higher and higher, piercing his skull with excruciating needles of sound, and pain washed through him in a red tide.
Time started to run backwards. He sensed its reversal like a fish senses a change in the current. His hair stood on end, and his mind cried out for sanity. The cyber's hum shot beyond his hearing and blessed silence clamped down, which proved to be as uncomfortable as the whine, for it seemed as if he had been struck deaf. Sabre closed his eyes to block out the whirling insanity and flailed for purchase, but found nothing to grip.
It reminded him of the sensory deprivation tank, but then he had sensed the water, and spent his time swirling the liquid to obtain a semblance of sensation for his starved brain. Now there was truly nothing, and stars sparkled in his brain as he ran out of oxygen. Time ran backwards, wiping away the pain of his injuries, but suffocation would kill him soon. He could no longer sense the cyber's vibrations, and a veil of darkness clouded his mind.
Tassin frowned at the sword, which flashed and turned to crystal again, its hum rising to a painful pitch. It chimed, and she wondered if it was somehow still engaged in some sort of battle with Sabre. His absence could not be explained any other way. She had searched the area where he had been thoroughly, and where he might have been flung. He had vanished, and the sword was embroiled in some sort of struggle, she was sure. It could only be fighting him. She stepped towards it, then bent and plugged her ears as the weapon's whine shot up to a painful pitch, making her head buzz and her eyes water.
The sword's golden glow brightened to an unbearable incandescence, forcing her to shut her eyes and turn away. The whine rose higher, then silence fell, and she unplugged her ears, covering her eyes instead while she strained to catch some sound in the leaden stillness. A crack of shattering crystal made Tassin open her eyes. The sword had reverted to metal, and glowed softly, its hum returned to a deep, audible tone.
Tassin glanced around at a slight, unidentifiable sound. The air parted and Sabre fell through only a few metres away, just as the Core's ghouls had done. He hit the ground hard, his hands clamped over his ears, his eyes screwed shut and his face twisted with pain. He writhed, curled in a ball, his skin glistening with moisture. She cried his name and ran towards him, then stopped, staring. The brow band blazed electric blue, and an inaudible vibration frizzed the air and made her scalp prickle. She glanced back at the sword, then at Sabre, realisation dawning. The Core and the cyber were locked in combat, and the cyber appeared to be winning.
The sword's hum ceased, and the blue light in the cyber died. Silence clamped down, and Sabre drew in a deep, shuddering breath, flopping onto his back. Frost rimed his skin and whitened the brow band. Steam rose from him in the chill that had accompanied his appearance, and a mottled flush replaced his unhealthy pallor. Tassin ran to him and dropped to her knees, amazement warring with her concern. Not even a scratch marred his skin, and no sign of burns or blood.
The cyber band blazed almost solid red. She touched his cheek and gasped at its iciness. Frost still whitened his hair and clothes, but the skin of his chest was much warmer. Already his temperature was rising back to normal. She picked up his hand and chafed it, calling his name. He appeared to be unconscious, his expression peaceful. He looked younger, but perhaps that was due to his comatose state, which robbed him of his usual guarded expression. In repose, his hawk-like features looked even more sensitive, almost vulnerable.
A tremulous smile tugged at Tassin's lips. He was not only in one piece, but appeared to be unhurt, more than she had dared to hope for. She wiped off the water that dewed his face with a trembling hand. Driven by an inexplicable urge, she leant down and kissed him, a sob closing her throat. Part of her wished he would wake at that moment, while a larger part shied away from the prospect with keen embarrassment.
As she sat back, she wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks, torn between intense relief and sadness, an unnamed emotion clogging her throat. A soft chime made her look around at the sword, which lay several metres away, shining metal once more.
"I hope you rot, you vile thing," she muttered.
It chimed again, insistently, and she frowned. It seemed to be trying to communicate, but she had no wish to understand it. She shook Sabre, wishing he would wake so they could leave this accursed place. She glanced around at the swirling chaos, her concern for Dena, all alone in the madness, growing. She shook Sabre again and patted his cheek. Although she hated to leave him, she had to find Dena, then somehow find her way back here. The prospect of stumbling around in the chaotic Flux-realities scared her. There was a distinct possibility that she would become utterly lost and be unable to find either of them.
The sword chimed again, insistently, and she glared at it.
"Damn you! Whatever you want, I won't do it!"
After a short silence, it gave a single sweet chime. Somehow, the Core lived in the sword now, a thing of power. She doubted its power could save it from the rust that would eat it away, however, all except the hilt.
"You're doomed! He defeated you twice!" she yelled.
The sword gave a flat, discordant note.
"Only if you could help me, would I spare you."
A loud, sweet chime answered her. The sound betokened agreement, friendship, and wordless volumes of alien encouragement.
She rose and walked back to it. "Can you help us?"
It gave a sweet chime.
"Why would you?"
Its response was a flat note.
"You wish to be saved."
It chimed sweetly again.
Tassin bent and picked up the weapon. The hilt was warm, and a slight vibration ran through it as it hummed. "If you want me to save you, then you must make sure I can find him again, or I'll leave you here to rust. And don't think you can harm him; the cyber is still active."
The sword chimed.
Tassin went over to Sabre and gazed at his peaceful face. Laying the sword beside him, she set off into the chaos to find Dena and the cart. It seemed as if she stumbled in the chaotic Flux-realities for an eternity, and Tassin was almost frantic by the time she came across Dena huddled between the donkeys, staring ahead with blank eyes. All of them bore wounds from flying crystal. A quick examination assured her that the injuries were not serious, and Dena had already pulled out the shards. The child seemed catatonic until Tassin hugged her, whereupon she wailed and sobbed.
Tassin crooned, "It's all right. You're safe, I'm safe, it's all over. We can go home now, no more terrors, okay?"
Dena raised shimmering eyes. "It's gone?"
"Yes, Sabre destroyed it. It's gone."
"Where's Sabre?"
"He's back there. We'll go and get him now. He's hurt, so we must take the cart."
Dena released Tassin, wiping her eyes. "I'm okay."
Tassin smiled. "I know. You're a very brave girl, and Sabre will be proud of you."
The sword's chiming guided them back to him, and Tassin sighed with relief when she found him again. They lifted him onto the cart, placing him in the hay. Tassin tossed the sword in after him, and it chimed in complaint as it clattered on top of the laser cannons. With a last glance at the crater, she led the donkeys away over the crushed crystal, Dena sitting with Sabre.
Tassin soon discovered that walking in the chaotic Flux-reality was hard. The donkeys balked at things that appeared and vanished, and the ground writhed and heaved. Sound seemed to have left the equation, or perhaps they were all a little deaf after the Core's explosion, but the world was eerily silent. When Tassin grew tired of wading through the tugging chaos, she stopped beside a Real-reality rock and gave the donkeys fodder before climbing into the cart to sit with Dena. She lifted Sabre's head and trickled a little water into his mouth. He coughed and swallowed.
Dena watched with a worried frown. "Why doesn't he wake up?"
"He's very tired. He'll wake when he's rested enough." Tassin hid her concern behind a smile.
The girl looked around at the tumbling, colliding worlds with a shudder. "This is a horrible place now. Before it was okay, kind of fun, but now it's weird. What if monsters come while Sabre's asleep?"
"I doubt that. I think they all perished with the Core. If they didn't, they must have fled."
"I thought this would all vanish when the Core was broken."
"It will take a while to fade, I think."
Tassin glanced at the sword, hoping she was right. How much power did the Core still possess? Was it feeding the Flux-reality? Surely it contained only a fraction of the power that had been inside the crystal?
After they had rested and eaten, Tassin pulled the donkeys along again, her injuries aching. Dena offered to take a turn, allowing Tassin to rest in the cart with Sabre.
For three days, they struggled through the chaos, overcoming the mishaps that befell them, none of which were too serious, and involved only the hazards of the changing land. Tassin became immured to the madness and accepted the hardships without complaint, adapting to its unexpected dangers. The chaos' relentless bombardment of horrors was punishing, and allowed little rest. Tassin and Dena were soon bruised and exhausted, dirty and blank-eyed. She gave Sabre water, but there was only dried meat to eat, and he would not chew it.
With no nights to promote sleep and no sun to guide them, they rested when they were tired and tried to walk a straight line. Twice they encountered Real-reality pools, which were easy to spot now in the ever changing Flux-reality. They found no other living creatures, but came across many corpses, twisted beyond recognition or savaged. Tassin wondered what had become of Purr, saddened by the possibility that he might be dead. The donkeys plodded on with their usual indifference, learning to ignore the things that appeared and vanished, the sudden changes of weather and temperature, and the abrupt transition from light to dark when a night time world swept through.
On the fourth day, as Tassin raised Sabre's head to give him water, he opened his eyes. She jumped in surprise, spilling water on his chest, and grinned with elated relief.
"How are you feeling?"
He stared at her for such a long time she feared the trauma had affected his mind. Her worries evaporated when he said in a husky voice, "I'm alive?"
"Yes."
He looked down at himself, raising a hand to study it as if amazed to find it still attached and obedient. "I thought I was dead."
"The cyber saved you."
"The cyber?"
"Yes." She hesitated as a brief splatter of heavy rain swept through, dampening them for an instant. "I think it stopped the sword from killing you... the Core is in it now."
Sabre took the water skin and drank, scanning the chaos. "Where are we?"
"Still in the Death Zone. We've been walking for four days."
Dena glanced around at the sound of Sabre's voice, stopped the donkeys and climbed into the cart to hug him.
He smiled at Tassin over her shoulder. "You could be going in circles."
"I know."
Sabre tried to sit up when Dena released him, but his limbs trembled and he flopped back with a groan. Tassin helped him, and he examined his belly with a confused frown. "No wounds, and no scars."
"What happened to you? I couldn't find you, and then you just appeared out of thin air."
He stared at her, then nodded. "Like the guardians."
"Yes."
"I think it tried to do to me what it did to them, but it couldn't for some reason. It sent me somewhere... nowhere is more like it. Perhaps a place between worlds, since it has the power to open portals in time and space and draw other worlds into its sphere of influence."
He rubbed his brow, lines of exhaustion bracketing his mouth. "It rummaged through my memories like an old lady at a sale bin. I think it was looking for something to torture me with, and it found plenty. But the cyber kept jolting me. It stopped me from sliding into..." He shivered. "Then it hurled me into a void, I think. I couldn't breathe, and it was terribly cold."
Tassin nodded. "When you fell out of the air you were covered with frost. The cyber band was blue."
He fingered the crystals. "It must have overpowered the Core. That's amazing. They're both... artificial intelligences, I suppose, one programmed, one self-taught. But they're utterly different. I wouldn't have thought the cyber could match up to the Core, never mind defeat it."
"I think the Core's lost most of its power now that it's trapped in the sword."
"It must have."
"But how did you avoid the flying crystal from the explosion? Even Dena and the donkeys were hit."
"I didn't." He smiled at her confused look. "It hit me too, but when the Core flung me into... wherever I was, it tried to mutate me. I guess the cyber wouldn't let it, so it... reversed time. Perhaps it thought it could turn back the clock so far I'd become a helpless child again, but the cyber must have overpowered it before it could. By rejuvenating me, it healed my wounds."
She gaped at him. "It turned time backwards?"
"Yes. It can manipulate time and space, perhaps because they're related. The Core's incredibly powerful, or at least, it was. A good thing we're far away from it now."
She averted her eyes. "Not exactly."
"Don't tell me you brought the bloody thing along?"
She nodded and bent to pick up the gleaming weapon.
Sabre frowned at it. "It should be destroyed."
The sword chimed, a flat note.
Tassin said, "It helped us. I had to leave you to find Dena, and I was afraid I wouldn't find you again, so the sword guided me to you. We made a bargain. It doesn't wish to be left here to rust."
"It's evil."
She shivered as the temperature dropped and a flurry of snow chilled her. "It can't do much now."
"Maybe not." He showed no inclination to take it from her, so she tossed it back into the bottom of the cart. It whined, then fell silent. He gazed at her. "I didn't expect to survive that battle."
"I know, but I'm glad you did."
"I'm not. I don't have much to look forward to." He glanced around as a burst of orange light attracted his attention, a setting sun in some unknown world. A wave of heat swept over them, leaving the air pleasantly warm for a moment before it changed again.
"I won't let Manutim take you back."
"You can't stop him."
Tassin frowned and jumped down to lead the donkeys forward. Sabre lay back and closed his eyes. He ached with weariness and his limbs seemed to be made of lead.
"Did you have to be so cruel?"
He opened his eyes to find Dena regarding him sadly. "She must learn to hate me."
"Because this magician will take you away."
"Yeah."
Dena cocked her head, raising a hand to brush aside a tree branch that materialised before her. It vanished before she touched it. "Surely happiness, no matter how brief, would be better than this?"
"It would only lead to more pain in the end." He closed his eyes.
Sabre could sense Dena studying him, and wondered what she was thinking. The chaos caused an odd flickering he found tiring on his eyes, and closing them helped him to relax. He also had a splitting headache. A wave of sea water broke over the cart, distracting him with its chill slap, then it was gone. He realised that if he avoided watching the chaos, living in it was a bit easier.
When Sabre woke again, Tassin slept beside him and Dena led the donkeys. Levering himself up, he gazed around at the swirling chaos, then glanced inwards at the scanners and discovered that they were working again. He studied the two life signs, one distant, the other quite close to the right of the cart. It was pale green, and small. Curious, he gazed in its direction, but the ever changing scenery blocked his view. Idly he perused the cyber's information, seeking a clue as to what the creature might be. The answer was ambiguous; it was an unknown animal, but similar to a terrestrial racoon.
"Dena, stop," he called.
The girl obeyed, looking surprised. Tassin woke and protested when he struggled out of the cart. His knees buckled, and he cursed, climbing to his feet again. Tassin tried to help him, but he shook her off and reeled in the direction of the life form.
"What is it, Sabre?"
"I'm not sure. I'm going to have a look."
Flux-reality tugged at him. Trees and rocks came and went too fast to avoid, and for an instant he shared space with them. A few metres from the cart, he came to a Real-reality boulder, an island of constancy and sanity amid the bedlam. The scanners indicated that the life form was next to the rock, and he knelt to peer through the swirling Flux-realities that hid it. Something furry lay there, revealed briefly when the flux allowed. He touched grey fur, and his reality warded off the flux long enough for him to make out a plump body and black-banded tail.
"Purr!" Tassin cried, falling to her knees beside him.
Mud and blood streaked the mosscat's wet, matted fur, and gaping rents exposed bleeding pink flesh. Sabre carried him back to the cart and placed him on the hay, then rummaged in his pack for a needle and thread, intending to sew the wounds up and hope for the best.
Tassin exclaimed, "The sword!"
Sabre frowned at her. "What about it?"
"It can heal him, like it did you."
"It could kill him too. Why should it help?" He flinched at a spray of hail, glancing around. Tassin, more used to it than he, ignored the brief pelting.
"The same reason it helped me before. If it doesn't, we throw it away. It's afraid of that. It will obey."
Sabre shook his head. "I don't trust it."
"It healed you. It can turn back time."
"It was trying to kill me when it did that. What it did for you was a small favour."
"But it needs us now. We can force it to help us."
He gazed at Purr, who stood little chance of survival without a miracle, and nodded. "All right, bring it."
Tassin held it out to him, but he shook his head. She hesitated, clearly puzzled by his reaction, then laid it across the limp mosscat.
"Heal him like you did Sabre," she ordered. "Don't mutate him."
The sword gave a flat chime, and then its glow brightened, surrounding it with a rainbow nimbus. With a flash of golden light, it turned to crystal, and its power enveloped the mosscat. The hairs on Tassin's arms stood up as the eerie power flowed around Purr, caressing his fur with invisible fingers. The wounds closed as time flowed in reverse within the sphere of power the sword created. Unseen claws undid the damage they had inflicted, and within a few moments the injuries vanished. As soon as it reverted to metal, she pushed the sword aside, and it gave a sullen chime.
Tassin wrapped Purr in a blanket and trickled water into his jaws. The mosscat coughed, swallowed and opened yellow eyes. He studied them, then spoke in his ventriloquist's voice.
"So, you succeeded, I take it."
She smiled. "Yes, Sabre did. The Core is gone, and the Death Zone will die now."
Purr nodded, his ears laid back. "Then why did you save me? My home's gone. I have nowhere to live anymore."
"You'll have a home with us."
"The people outside will fear me. I'm from the Death Zone," he growled, his little white fangs exposed in a slight snarl. Evidently Purr was extremely upset.
"No one will harm you, and there's no need for them to know where you come from. We can tell them you're from the jungles on the other side of the desert."
Purr shrugged, raising a pudgy hand to wipe his whiskers. "Well, I suppose it's done now."
"What happened to you?" Sabre asked.
"What do you think? When you destroyed the Core, everything went mad. The beasts started killing each other, and fleeing the chaos, which killed many too. I was attacked again and again. There was nowhere to hide, no way to camouflage in this madness. Eventually I found the rock, and I thought I would die there."
"I'm glad you didn't." Tassin tried to stroke him, but Purr ducked away from her hand. None of them had touched him before, and clearly he did not like it. When she withdrew her hand, he relaxed and started combing the tangles out of his belly fur.
Sabre stretched out in the hay, and Dena led the donkeys forward once more. Purr looked around and commented, "Presumably you wish to leave the Flux Zone, in which case, you should turn to the right." He went back to grooming his bedraggled fur.
Tassin studied Sabre, who lounged in the hay, one leg hooked over the side of the cart. He was pale and drawn, his eyes distant. Twice his gaze brushed hers, but he ignored her scrutiny and concentrated on the surroundings. It seemed he and Purr were unhappy about being saved. Purr because his home was destroyed, and Sabre because he believed the cyber would enslave him again. His pessimism annoyed her. She was sure Manutim would call on her before he did anything else, and she would persuade him to leave Sabre with her. Manutim had been her friend for a long time. Sabre did not realise how much influence she had with the mage.
Sabre remained silent and withdrawn, eating his food with a resigned air when they made camp. Now that he was awake, Tassin and Dena were able to get some much needed sleep. Dena curled up under the cart and Tassin stretched out in the hay.
A gentle shaking woke her, and she opened her eyes.
Sabre stood beside the cart. "Something's coming. Get up."
Brushing tangled hair from her face, she sat up, wincing at her first sight of the smearing worlds. Sabre checked her laser's charge.
"Only a half charge left," he muttered. "My laser's gone, and the sonlar too."
"What about the big power packs?"
He shook his head. "They won't fit the hand weapons. We're out of ammo." The ground shivered, making him stagger. "Get the others onto the cart. Let's try to move out of its way. Maybe it's just heading in this direction."
Tassin bundled Dena onto the cart with Sabre and Purr and tugged the reluctant donkeys forward.
After half an hour, Sabre said, "It's following us."
The familiar sensation of cold dread coiled in Tassin's stomach, and she glanced back. "What is it?"
"I don't know, but it's big."
Purr sniffed the air and growled, "Skifgar."
Sabre eyed him. "What's that?"
"Big creature. Very dangerous. One of the Core's worst creations, and one of its favourites. We've moved away from the Core, more monsters live here."
A few minutes later, crashing came from the Flux-reality behind them, and the donkeys broke into a trot, their ears laid back. Tassin ran next to them, urging them on. The skifgar caught up at an alarming rate, unimpeded, it seemed, by the chaos. The things that loomed out of the bedlam buffeted Tassin, slowing her down. A thud from behind was followed by an angry hiss as the beast ran into something solid.
Sabre sat up and took aim as a creature burst from the swirling Flux-reality. Even though he had seen many of the Core's mutations, he was not prepared for the apparition that blundered out of the bedlam. A fierce head topped a sinuous neck bristling with short spines. Dull grey hide covered the prominent bones of a knobbly, weirdly jointed and proportioned torso. Luminous red eyes glared in a dished, equine face with flared nostrils and long, translucent teeth that dripped saliva. At the base of its neck, two thin arms ended in clawed, skeletal hands with three fingers and two thumbs.
Below these, a second set of arms, as sinuous as its neck, ended in scythe-like horn blades. Beneath its chest, a pair of slender legs with forward-bending knees had four-toed feet tipped with long claws. The stout hind legs' powerful muscles supported long pasterns that terminated in another pair of larger four-clawed feet. A long tail lashed behind it, as bony as the neck, and tipped, like the second set of arms, with a blade of bone or horn. Its skin looked thick and tough. Bony ridges protected its eyes, and a curved plate of bone -- an overgrown sternum -- shielded its heart and lungs. According to the cyber's information, it was a trendil, found on a harsh rim planet that had been colonised and abandoned many decades ago after a prolonged and bloody war. Trendils appeared to be designed with just one thing in mind, to be efficient killers.
Sabre aimed at its head and fired, but the beast moved fast, its neck and head weaving from side to side. Lowering his sights, he shot it in the chest, wounded it slightly and made it hiss. He fired again, and the monster stumbled, hissing again. Its eyes gleamed with intelligence, but its maddened intellect seemed to know only a lust to kill. When he fired again, the laser's beam died, and Sabre tossed it aside. Pulling out his knife, he jumped down, stumbling as his knees threatened to buckle. Purr leapt after him with a huge sneeze, and Tassin dragged the donkeys to a halt, crying out in dismay. Dena tried to tug one of the big laser cannons free, her face twisted with effort and terror.
Tassin drew her dagger and ran back. The trendil stopped, dark red blood oozing from the laser wounds. Its head weaved from side to side, red eyes gleaming. Purr, a bundle of spines, claws and fangs, sprang at it, only to be caught by the second set of arms and flung aside with a disdainful flick. The alien was intent on Sabre, awaiting his next move. The cyber knew he was in no shape to fight such a dangerous beast. Trendils were formidable creatures, and had ousted humans from their planet through sheer dint of brawn and cunning intelligence. He stepped sideways, and the monster turned to face him, its blade arms making slow, anticipatory motions. The hand arms remained tucked close to its neck, out of harm's way.
The beast's head was far out of reach, making its armoured body his only target. Sabre dropped into a forward roll, hoping to come up under its chest. The creature stepped back too fast, however, and Sabre lacked his usual speed and co-ordination. The monster's head swung down, and its blade arms sliced towards him. Tassin shouted and ran forward, hurling the dagger. It struck the creature on the snout, and it reared back, blood oozing from a shallow wound. Its red eyes assessed her potential as an opponent, and Sabre slipped out of reach while it was distracted.
Tassin retreated, to Sabre's relief. At least she seemed to have enough sense to stay away, for a change. He circled the monster, keeping its attention while avoiding the occasional swipes of its blade arms. He did not have the strength to fight a trendil. His bio status was a mere thirty-seven per cent, dangerously low, but there was no other option. It hissed, and slurred words whispered in his mind as the cyber tried to interpret its language. Tassin ran back with the humming sword, and he shot her an incredulous glance.
He shouted, "No! Tassin! Look out!"
One of the trendil's blade arms lashed out, wrapped around her waist and lifted her. Tassin screamed and threw the sword. Sabre advanced, fear chilling his heart. The blade arm tightened, crushing her to the skifgar's neck, the knobs digging into her. The sword fell in a flashing arc, and Sabre leapt forward to catch it, then almost dropped it. The Core thrummed with malevolence, and he longed to cast it away. Its angry power sickened him, but he needed a weapon.
Sabre leapt at the skifgar, thrusting the blade into the creature's neck. The sword sliced into its tough flesh, and blood splattered over him. It hissed, and its head swooped at him, mouth open. He slashed at it, the weapon bouncing off bony armour. He was too weak, and what strength he had was fading fast. As the skifgar recoiled, Sabre held the sword before him. It glowed with a rainbow nimbus, humming with power and hatred.
"If I die, you rot," he promised it, remembering Tassin's recipe for the Core's co-operation.
The blade chimed and flashed, turning to crystal. Sabre slashed at the monster's head as it lunged at him again, leaping over a blade arm that swept past at knee level. The sword unleashed a flash of golden power that lanced through the creature's head in an explosion of blood and brains. The headless corpse lurched and collapsed. Sabre tried to fling himself aside, but again his strength failed him, and the corpse hammered him to the ground. Vaguely he was aware of a blinding white flare, then he went rigid as searing agony lanced up his arm.
The world darkened and Tassin screamed, a thin, distant sound. Tingles washed through him in waves, accompanied by a sickening sensation of weightlessness. Hatred and triumph radiated from the sword, and he flung it away. The tingling shocks and weightlessness vanished. He landed on hard ground with a thud, momentarily stunned. The situation's urgency beat at his brain through the mists of confusion and disorientation that clouded it.
Shaking his head, he levered himself to his feet and glanced around at a glowing yellow tunnel. The skifgar's corpse lay nearby, Tassin in its clasp. He staggered to her and freed her from the alien's grip. She was unconscious, but appeared to be unharmed.
Sabre dragged her to the side of the tunnel and propped her against the wall, glancing around again as he squatted beside her. A few gentle slaps made her gasp and open her eyes, which widened. She grabbed his arm, and Sabre tried to fend her off, but she transferred her grip to his neck and hung on.
He patted her back. "It's okay. We don't seem to be in any danger, and if we were, you're not helping."
"Where are we?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea. At a guess, I'd say we're on the trendil -- skifgar's home world."
"How did we get here?" Her voice shook, muffled against his neck.
"The sword, of course." He glanced down when she pulled back to look up at him. "It transported us here. Just as it snatched the skifgar from this world, it cast us into it."
"Why?"
"Revenge." He sighed. "That always was its greatest wish. Vengeance against mankind, and now that I've reduced it to its present state, it wants me dead more than anyone. You should have left it there. You should never have kept your side of the bargain. That thing is evil. That's why I didn't want to touch it again. I'd already had too much contact with it when it was still the crystal, when we were bound together with neosin.
"Its hatred is immense and its depravity horrible. It didn't have nearly as much power as it had as the crystal, but I think it controlled the skifgar, lured it to us and made it attack me. It waited until we were in contact with the skifgar, then used the catapult effect to throw us back into the skifgar's world."
Tassin's eyes roved around the glowing tunnel. "What's a catapult effect?"
Sabre eased his aching back, allowing her to hold his wrist, since he knew she needed the tactile comfort of his presence. "It's the attachment every creature the Core snatched has with its native world. It took immense power to pull them from their worlds into ours, but not very much to send them back. That's why the sword waited until we were in contact with the skifgar before using its power. It used the skifgar like a homing beacon, catapulting it back to its world, and taking us with it."
Tassin shivered, although the tunnel was warm. "Where's the sword?"
"Good question. It forced me to release it, but I think it's also in this world somewhere. The catapult effect is powerful. I doubt it had the power to stay behind."
"Well I'm glad it's gone."
Sabre shook his head. "Don't be. This isn't a pleasant world, and its inhabitants certainly aren't, which is probably why the sword sent us here. It's our only hope of getting back. We have to find it."
"What if it's not here?"
"Then we're screwed."
Tassin gasped, her eyes widening. "Dena!"
"Purr's with her. He'll take care of her until we can get back."
"What if we can't get back?"
Sabre groaned. "What if... what if... We'll just have to find that damned sword, okay? But right now I think we should find somewhere safe to rest."
Tassin glanced up and down the tunnel and nodded, brushing back a lock of hair. Sabre consulted the scanners, which showed many points of pale mauve light. Trendils. The corpse did not register on the scanners anymore. A structural analysis revealed a network of interlinking tunnels, some passing close to each other. They appeared to be in a hive, surrounded by trendils.
Keeping an eye on the scanners, Sabre led the way down the tunnel, Tassin clinging to his hand. The yellow glow came from a sticky coating on the roof, jelly-like and unpleasant to touch. Sabre steered away from the trendils on the scanners, entering a downward sloping tunnel. The structural analysis showed an empty cavern ahead, and they entered a bizarre garden. Yellow slime threw a warm glow onto an amazing variety of fungi.
A pool at one end glinted mysterious black, and he wound his way through the growths to sample the clear water. While Tassin drank, he examined the fungus garden. There was an occasional recognisable mushroom variety, but most were alien, with odd colours and weird shapes. Hunger reminded him of his need to regain his strength, and he asked the cyber to analyse the fungi. It indicated that several varieties were edible, and he tasted some. Tassin looked alarmed when he munched on a bilious orange growth.
"What if that's poison?" she demanded.
"It's not. Try some."
She shook her head, rubbed water on her face and smoothed back her hair. "I'm not hungry."
Sabre settled beside the pool, eating a pale blue mushroom. "You will be, and I doubt there's anything more appetising than this down here."
"How are we going to get out?"
"We're not. We're going to find that bloody sword."
"But there could be more of those monsters down here."
He nodded. "There are. Plenty of them."
"Then we must get out of here. We must get to the surface."
"And then?"
"I don't know. Find help!"
"This is a rim world called Narrin Three, the only planet that trendils, or skifgars, inhabit. It was abandoned about fifty years ago, so I don't really know what's on the surface. It never was a very nice world, and the surface might be more dangerous than down here. In fact, I would guess it is."
"Why?"
Sabre threw away the pale blue fungus, which was so pithy his tongue seemed to have turned into a mohair rug. "Because skifgars live down here, and they're pretty formidable. There's only one real reason to live underground, in a hive like this, and that's protection."
"There might be people up there. Perhaps that's who the skifgars are hiding from."
He shook his head, plucking a knobbly yellow fungus. "No. Like I said, this world was abandoned. The settlers couldn't share it with such a dangerous creature. Forget the surface. If we want to get home, we have to find the sword."
Tassin looked crestfallen, but nodded. "Can you find it with the scanners?"
"Unfortunately not. The scanners only detect living creatures."
"Then how will we find it?"
He shrugged, popped the last bit of yellow fungus into his mouth and reached for a grey one. "Search."
"That could take ages!" She scowled. "How can you eat that stuff?"
He nibbled the grey fungus. "It's quite tasty."
"It looks revolting."
Sabre shrugged. "Cybers are conditioned to eat anything edible and nutritious. I've eaten worse than this. I need my strength if we're going to get out of here alive. Try some."
She shuddered, shaking her head. "Even if we find the sword, how will we make it take us back?"
"I'm not sure. I think it brought us here for two reasons. One is so the skifgar will kill us, especially me, and the other is to find creatures to care for it, ones it can control, perhaps even regain its previous power. It must have selected this world carefully before it made the skifgar attack us. Since its main motivation is self-preservation, perhaps it can be blackmailed."
"How?"
Sabre finished the grey fungus. "By threatening to destroy it."
"Do you think you could?"
"I'll certainly give it a bloody good try."
Tassin closed her eyes and rubbed her brow, drooping with weariness. Sabre's fatigue was profound, compounded by his weakness after his battle with the Core. He led her to a niche and settled down as comfortably as he could on the hard ground. The spicy scent of the fungus surrounded them as Tassin curled up beside him.
The cyber's red warning flashes woke Sabre, and he shook Tassin. Two life forms approached the cave and entered it. Sabre froze, pinning Tassin to the wall to prevent her from moving. The skifgars were smaller than the one he had fought, with shorter necks, larger heads and no blade arms. They had more powerful hand arms than the warrior skifgar, and were armed only with a short blade on the end of their tails. They started to fill the panniers on their backs with fungi.
The workers hissed at each other while they toiled, and a garbled translation whispered in Sabre's mind. He could understand a word here and there, from which he deduced that they discussed the fungi and the state of the garden cave. Myon Two had only partly translated trendil speech, but the cyber would fill in the missing data as it accumulated more information. Sabre relaxed, patting Tassin's hand, which gripped his hard enough to cut off his circulation. Her proximity made him a little uncomfortable, but the dangerous situation distracted him.
The workers wound through the clumps of fungi, harvesting the largest until their panniers were full. As they returned to the cave entrance, one glanced up and hissed a comment about the lighting. Sabre noticed that the yellow glow was dimmer than before, and he wondered what they would do about it. The second worker merely hissed an agreement as they left.
Tassin relaxed her death grip on his hand, and he massaged the blood back into it, shifting away as he became acutely aware of her pressed against him. He rose and stretched, refreshed by the rest and food, a little of his strength seeping back. His bio status was forty-two per cent, still dangerously low. Ambling down to the pool, he slaked his thirst and ate more fungus. Tassin joined him, sipping water while she eyed him.
"What are we going to do now?"
"Eat."
"What about finding the sword?"
Sabre munched a grey fungus, which was the best tasting; a rather bland, earthy flavour. "Not yet. I'm not strong enough. We'll rest here until I am."
"What about Dena?"
"Purr will take care of her, and she has food and water. She'll be okay."
Tassin scowled. "What about me?"
"What about you?"
"I'm hungry too."
"Then eat." He held out a piece of fungus, which she eyed with distaste.
"I can't eat that. I'll be sick."
"No you won't. It's not bad, and it's all there is. You also need your strength, so don't be silly."
He pressed the damp morsel into her hand, and she nibbled on it, her face twisted with disgust. "It tastes like dirt."
"Really? When have you ever tasted dirt?"
She glared at him. "You know what I mean."
"Just eat it. Try some of the others if you like."
Sabre watched with amusement as she sampled all the fungi he had eaten, spitting out the pale blue mushroom, which he knew had a tart, hairy taste. Her mood improved when her hunger was assuaged, and they returned to the side of the cavern to rest. As soon as they had settled down, the cyber flashed a warning.
A life form approached the cave, and he said, "Hush. Something's coming."
"What?"
"I don't know. Not a skifgar."
"We should get out of here."
"No, we'll be safer here. It's too close. Just sit still."
Sabre waited for the creature to enter, and at first he could not see it, even though the scanners told him it was already inside, then he looked up. A two-metre long, bright yellow slug crept across the ceiling, its suction foot rippling. Its eye stalks and feelers waved, and red-tipped protrusions dangled from its flat body. It left a trail of glowing yellow slime. Sabre smiled and pointed, drawing Tassin's eyes to it. She started, then relaxed.
"A sun slug," she whispered.
Sabre nodded. It seemed an apt name for the light giving animal, which went about its business oblivious to their presence. It circled the roof in decreasing circuits until it reached the centre, where it paused before moving down the wall to a clump of bilious yellow-green fungus. The cyber had deemed that variety inedible for humans, so the trendils must grow it for the sun slugs, Sabre guessed. The warm yellow glow made their niche far more exposed to prying eyes, but Sabre settled down to rest a little more.
The sun slug left three hours later, at which time Sabre rose and woke Tassin. They drank and ate again, and, since his bio status was now forty-nine per cent, he decided it was time to search for the sword. At the door, the scanners showed no trendils close by, although the tunnels limited their effective range. It was logical to assume the sword would end up where they had arrived, so he headed back in that direction, hoping the trendils had not found it. They passed the place where the dead trendil had lain, the soft soil muffling their footsteps. Sabre moved with cat-like stealth, but Tassin had no such ability. After an hour of fruitless searching and two close encounters with passing trendils, Sabre rested against the wall, Tassin close beside him.
"This isn't working," he muttered. "The sword's gone."
"So what do we do now?"
"Well, if I was a skifgar, and I found a strange thing like a sword lying around inside the hive, I'd take it to a higher authority."
She shivered. "That means going further into the hive."
"Yeah. You can stay in the garden cave. You'll be safer there."
"No!"
Sabre smiled. He had predicted that reply, and did not waste his breath arguing with her. "Okay, then let's see if we can find this place's nerve centre."
Sabre led the way to a junction, passing under a busy sun slug, and he wondered how large the hive was. If it was as big as he suspected, it could take days to locate the seat of authority. The fastest way to find it would be to allow himself to be captured, but with Tassin in tow that was not an option.
The tunnel widened, side tunnels joining it periodically, which indicated that they were heading in the right direction, but the increased traffic slowed them. As the tunnel grew wider, however, it developed ridges for strength, which afforded a little cover. At one stop, Sabre picked at the thick layer of hard, tacky resin-like substance that covered the wall. According to the cyber, it was a form of dried mucus, and he refrained from mentioning this to Tassin.
When they reached an intersection with a main thoroughfare, Sabre hid behind a rib and studied the steady stream of workers that marched along it. Most were in pairs, some in groups of four or six, and only a few alone. A warrior, identical to the one they had encountered in the Death Zone, passed by, and Sabre suspected that trendils, like Purr, were too intelligent for the Core to mutate. The warrior's blade arms were coiled close to its chest, and workers gave it a wide berth, lowering their heads as it passed. There was no way Sabre and Tassin could cross the thoroughfare without being spotted, and he looked around for a side tunnel. Tassin gasped, and he whipped around to clamp a hand over her mouth, following her gaze.
Two naked, dirty, obese men walked along the thoroughfare, followed by a pair of workers. They stared ahead with a blank-eyed, idiot gaze, drooling a little from slack lips. Their state puzzled Sabre, then realisation dawned and bile stung the back of his throat. He became aware of Tassin trying to pry his hand off her mouth and released her. Taking her arm, he led her back to a dim side tunnel and turned to her, wincing at the excitement in her eyes.
"There are people here!" she whispered.
"Those aren't people, they're cattle."
"But... What do you mean?"
Sabre tugged her along the tunnel to another garden cave, almost identical to the first one, with a pool at the far end. Tassin joined him beside the water, looking worried.
"What do you mean, 'they're cattle'?"
Sabre picked a grey mushroom and tried to think of a way of telling her gently, but found none. "The skifgar eat them."
She stared at him, covered her mouth and looked sick, then gulped. "How do you know that?"
Sabre forced himself to eat the fungus despite his queasy stomach. "Just by looking at them. If they were slaves they'd be fit, and those men were idiots. I guess some of the settlers were captured, and that's what happened to them. I thought it odd that skifgar grow and harvest fungi, since they're carnivorous. Now I know why."
"To feed the people."
"Yeah."
"But why are they idiots?"
Sabre picked another mushroom and brushed dirt from it. "Man's greatest asset is his brain. Take that away, and he's no better than any other animal."
"How can they do that to people?"
He shrugged. "They might have bred them that way, or deprived them of stimulation as children."
"I mean how can they do that to people? We're not cattle!"
"If there was such a thing as a talking cow, it would ask the same question." He sighed. "They're aliens. They don't care about people. To them, we're just another kind of animal." He paused, thinking. "What I'd like to know is how they became the main, if not the only food source."
"You don't know that."
"Skifgar don't strike me as farmers. They're hunters, or they were. They wouldn't be farming people unless they had to."
"So what are we going to do about it?"
"Do about it?" His brows shot up.
"We have to help them."
"No." He plucked another fungus. "We're going to find the sword and get back to Arlin." He raised a hand when she opened her mouth. "We can't help them. They're mindless. They'd die without care. Do you want to stay here and look after them? Besides, I can't defeat a hive of skifgars."
Tassin frowned, but after a few minutes of contemplation, she picked a fungus. They rested for a four hours and ate again before they left. Sabre headed down the tunnel, which ran parallel to the thoroughfare and towards the hive centre, he hoped. They passed two more garden caves, and the slime's light grew dimmer. Evidently the tunnel was not used, which suited Sabre. When it became too dark to see, the cyber provided infrared and Tassin clung to his hand.
In places, the tunnel's roof sagged, and water dripped from it. In others, the resin had given way and earth slides partially blocked it. No others joined it, and he hoped it was not a dead end. When he reached the end, a faint yellow glow shone through a thick layer of resin, and the scanners showed teeming human life forms on the other side of it. Sabre tore a hole in it and peered through.
The disused tunnel's former entrance afforded a panoramic view of a vast, brightly lighted cavern. Hundreds of fat, mindless people were occupied with basic pursuits such as sleeping, eating, drinking, defecating and rutting. Some sat and stared at the walls, others rocked and grunted, or scratched in a leisurely, ape-like manner. The mature females were in various stages of pregnancy, most nursing as well, some with several children around them.
Sabre looked for signs of normality amongst the children and found none. They appeared to be as mindless as their parents. Skifgar workers handed out fungus from their panniers, others scraped up excrement and dumped it in a hole at one end of the chamber. Sabre turned away, pondering. There was no way through the chamber without being spotted, so they would have to backtrack and find another tunnel. Tassin stepped towards the hole, and he caught her arm.
"You don't want to see that."
"I do."
"You won't like it."
"I want to see!"
Sabre released her, and she peered through the hole, then turned away, scowling. "It's horrible."
"Yeah. Come on, we have to find another tunnel."
Sabre returned to the garden cave to eat and rest, and pondered the situation while Tassin slept. The chance of finding the seat of trendil authority by blundering around in the tunnels was slim to none. He considered leaving the Queen asleep and going on alone, but Tassin would not stay here. He needed a guide, and wondered if trendils would be susceptible to the cyber. With a sigh, he settled down and to sleep.
The cyber's warning woke Sabre, and he sat up, glancing around. The scanners showed two trendils approaching along the tunnel outside, and a few moments later a pair of workers entered. Waking Tassin, he raised a finger to his lips. She glared at the trendils.
"I'm going to capture one," he whispered.
"No!" She gripped his arm, her eyes wide. "It's too dangerous. I forbid it!"
He raised a brow. "You forbid it?"
"Yes." She frowned. "You mustn't... Can't... Don't leave me alone!"
"Relax. We need a guide or we'll be rattling around this place until we're caught."
"They might kill you!"
He shook his head. "They're only workers."
"Even so..."
"You just stay here. Nothing's going to happen to me." He tried to pry her fingers off his arm.
"But what if you're hurt, or captured?"
"What if the roof falls in? What if the sun goes out?" He sighed. "I'm going to go down there and capture one, kill the other, that's it, no 'what ifs'. Now let go."
Tassin released him, her mulish, sulky expression telling him she expected to be proven right.
One trendil was near the pool, the other on the far side of the cavern. Sabre moved across it, his senses alert. The aliens conversed in hisses, and the garbled translation tickled his brain. They discussed the fungi's growth and health.
Sabre stopped, allowing the cyber to absorb more of the strange language and analyse it. When it was able to translate ninety per cent of the conversation, he crept towards his target again. Secure in the hive's safety, the beast was clearly unaware of him. Sabre crept up behind his prey and sprang onto its back. The worker hissed and raised its hand-arms, but Sabre gripped its neck and twisted, snapping it.
The second worker looked up at the sound of its comrade's collapse, spotted Sabre and galloped for the door. It moved like a centaur, the crushed fungi giving off a musky reek. Sabre bounded after it, the springy fungus aiding him. The alien gave a high-pitched hiss when he sprang onto its back, sending it sprawling. The trendil struggled to rise, but Sabre sat on its neck. Its hand-arms clawed him, and he grabbed them and held them away, its weakness surprising him. The cyber translated the beast's hisses, whispering the words in Sabre's brain.
"Help! Help me! Do not hurt me, man-thing!"
Sabre had not expected the alien to have a sense of self, and thought it odd that it did not try to bite him. Now he had a new problem, for while it was one thing to understand the strange language, it was quite another to speak it.
The cyber translated what he wanted to say into a single rising hiss. Pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he tried to imitate the sound. It came out wrong, but the worker fell silent, staring at him. He had meant to say 'be quiet', but in fact had said 'be happy'. The effect was the same, however, and he twisted his tongue to speak the next, far more difficult words.
"Don't struggle and I won't hurt you." The cyber re-translated his hiss as 'don't wriggle I and you won't kill'.
The meaning was still there, and Sabre was quite pleased with his effort. The skifgar hissed, "You're not a wooden-head?"
Sabre frowned. "What's a wooden-head?" The hiss came out as 'wood-brain be?'.
The skifgar said, "I won't wriggle. Will you let me rise?"
Sabre released it, and it towered over him before it lowered its head. It watched him with red eyes, its hand arms folded. For all its fearsome appearance, it showed no inclination to fight. He wondered how clever it was, and whether it was trying to lull him into a false sense of security. It had recovered its aplomb as soon as it learnt he was not a wooden-head, but it was an alien, and therefore thought differently. Perhaps his ability to speak its language was sufficient to reassure it.
Sabre tried a more difficult sentence. "I'm looking for a metal object."
The words came out jumbled, some slightly different, and the trendil cocked its head. Sabre tried again, this time a little more intelligibly.
The worker bobbed. "I Garchish."
Sabre introduced himself and repeated his question.
Garchish said, "Must ask kin-mother-queen."
"You don't know?"
"Must ask kin-mother-queen. I know."
Sabre frowned. "Then why don't you tell me?"
"Must ask kin-mother-queen."
"Does she have it?"
The trendil said, "You warrior. Must ask kin-mother-queen."
Sabre sighed. Evidently trendils had strict rules the worker could not break, but he did not relish the idea of asking kin-mother-queen. It could be a trap. Garchish waited, unmoving.
Sabre said, "I'm not a warrior. You tell me." He had to repeat it twice before he got it right.
Garchish glanced at his dead comrade. "You kill kin-brother-worker, you warrior. Kin-sister-warrior won't tell you, for you not kin. Only kin-mother-queen might tell you."
"Or eat me."
"You full of bones. If she wants, she makes you a wooden-head first."
Sabre shivered at the matter-of-fact words. "What's a wooden-head?"
"Like you, but no brains. When born, put seed in hole-in-side-of-head. Seed grow, eat brain, only wood left."
Sabre swallowed stinging bile. He had encountered worse when the cyber had controlled him, though. Questions multiplied in his mind, but they were too complex to ask. Trendil society seemed to be based on status, and no matter what the race, all were treated accordingly. Since killing the other worker had proven that Sabre was a warrior, he now outranked Garchish. That was why the worker showed him respect, but other warriors were his equal, and the kin-mother-queen was his superior. Still, it seemed he would have to ask the kin-mother-queen for the sword.
"Will you take me to kin-mother-queen?"
Garchish's hands fluttered. "Yes."
"Will kin-sister-warriors try to kill me?"
"I cannot tell what kin-sister-warriors will do. You are an invader-warrior; they defend kin-mother-queen."
Sabre asked, "Will you tell them I mean no harm to kin-mother-queen?"
"Yes."
The plan was risky unless he found a warrior who would believe his story and take him to the queen, since the worker lacked the status to protect him. His first encounter with a warrior would be the acid test. At least warriors appeared to be solitary, so he would have a chance to defeat it. Then what? It was up to fate. It seemed that only kin-mother-queen could give him the sword. He beckoned to Tassin, who stood up, her eyes glinting with fear.
Garchish turned his head as she approached. "Kin-sister-warrior?
Sabre was about to agree when an idea struck him. "No. Kin-mother-queen."
Garchish folded his legs and dropped to the ground, flattening his neck along it. His whip-like tail curled into a tight coil, the dagger end pointed into the earth. Sabre smiled. Perhaps Tassin was their ticket to freedom after all. Garchish watched him, and he decided that he had better play along. He dropped to one knee and beckoned to Tassin, who frowned in confusion.
"Don't be afraid of him," he said, "I've told him you're a queen. Their society is matriarchal. He's showing respect. Act like a queen."
Tassin eyed the trendil. "How do their queens act?"
"I don't know. Like all queens, I expect. Superior. Stick your nose in the air, glare at everyone, swagger. You know the drill."
She glared at him. "I never acted like that."
"On no?" He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. "Never mind, just do it now, okay? We have to go and see his kin-mother-queen to find out where the sword is. With you as kin-mother-queen, we might have a chance of surviving the encounter."
She shot Garchish a nervous glance, and Sabre rose.
The trendil hissed, "Does invader-queen give permission to rise?"
"Yes," Sabre answered. "Take us to your kin-mother-queen."
Garchish heaved himself to his feet, his tail still coiled, hand-arms tucked against his chest. His head remained lower than before, and he glanced at Tassin, as if expecting some sign from her.
Sabre said, "My kin-mother-queen does not speak to hive-workers."
Garchish nodded. "Of course not. No mother-queen speaks to hive-workers, not even her kin-son-workers. Only elder kin-daughter-warriors may speak to their kin-mother-queen."
"My kin-mother-queen speaks to no one but me. She does not soil her tongue with your language."
"I understand." Garchish bobbed his head. "That is in order. I will take you to my kin-mother-queen."
The worker headed for the door, pausing to remove his panniers. As Sabre stepped into the tunnel behind Garchish, tension made his heart pound and his hands shake. His reaction was a standard cyber response to danger, in preparation for battle. Keeping Tassin safe was not going to be easy in a hive full of dangerous aliens. The cyber's lack of objection to his dangerous plan was a little odd, but perhaps even the supercomputer could not devise a better one. Unfortunately, raising his metabolism also used up his depleted resources. He glanced down at Tassin when she took his hand. Even though she disliked his plan, she wanted the reassurance of his hand, which he found oddly touching. Even more poignant, perhaps, was her faith that he could protect her from several hundred trendils, unarmed. Somehow, he doubted it.
Tassin sensed Sabre glance at her when she took his hand. She knew he regarded her as a foolish young girl, and hanging onto him only confirmed that, but she did not care anymore. In this den of monsters, she was not going to be parted from him. This was the end of their journey, she was sure. The monster-queen would kill them, but at least she would be with him at the end. Years of weapons' training and close combat had callused his hand, yet it was a lifeline she clung to, drawing strength from him.
Tassin trotted to keep up with his long strides. The ugly monster led them towards the busy thoroughfare and turned left, passing under a sun slug. Other skifgar glanced at her and Sabre, and prickles of nervous tension marched up her spine as they passed a warrior. Fear coiled in the pit of her stomach like a cold snake, and her hand grew damp in Sabre's warm clasp.
"Sabre?"
He glanced at her, his silver eyes flat. "What?"
"If they... you know, try to turn us into... cattle, would you...?" Her eyes stung, and she gulped. "Would you...?" She could not say it, but his eyes froze.
"Kill you?"
She nodded.
"It won't come to that."
"You don't know that! What if they won't listen to you? What if they only regard us as animals?" She knew he was tired of her 'what ifs', but life was full of them.
He sighed. "I can talk to them, so they can't regard us as animals."
"You don't know how they think. They might find a talking animal offensive. What would people do if a cow suddenly spoke to them?"
"I doubt they'd kill it. They'd probably keep it as a novelty."
"That's all right for you, but I can't speak their language," she said.
"Stop it. I've told Garchish you're a queen. They'll respect that. Their society is based on status, which they're born to. They won't dare make a queen into a wooden-head, even an alien one."
Tassin glanced around, her heart pounding. The tunnel had broadened and brightened, and monsters thronged it, many of them warriors. Their guide headed for a wide, brightly lighted side tunnel. Two warriors guarded it, their grey hides striped and spotted with red. This was evidently the tunnel that led to the queen's chambers, and Tassin fought a strong urge to run away. The warriors stepped into their guide's path, and it stopped, lowering its head. The three conversed in hisses, and the warriors peered at the humans, hissed at the worker, then stepped aside. Their guide entered the tunnel, Sabre close behind it. Tassin tugged at his hand.
"Sabre, will you do it? If everything goes wrong. Will you?"
Inwardly she cringed at the flash of pity in his eyes, mixed with the unidentifiable emotion she had glimpsed before, but again it was gone too quickly, his eyes turning cool and unreadable.
"Yes."
She shivered at the hard monosyllable and the visions it conjured up. How would he do it? Smash her skull? Break her neck? Would it hurt?
"How -?"
"Don't ask me how I'll do it," he growled. "It isn't going to happen. I just wanted to shut you up, okay?"
"But -"
"Stop it! There's no use forecasting doom and death before it happens. We'll get the sword and go home. If everything goes wrong, as you so nicely put it, I'll make sure... I'll take care of you, painlessly, okay?"
A lump blocked her throat, and she nodded. Terror knotted her stomach and froze her heart, cold sweat sheened her skin. Her legs had turned to rubber, and she stumbled after him, clinging to his hand. A spurt of defiance stiffened her spine as the tunnel opened out into a massive chamber that resembled an amphitheatre. Warriors thronged its perimeter in rows, squatting on their haunches, their blade arms coiled. The air reverberated with subdued hissing, and long necks weaved above the mass of lumpy, gaudily-striped and spotted bodies.
The warriors bore the colours of their rank, the back rows filled with red-marked beasts, then rows filled with red and blue, then red blue and green, while the front rows were marked with gold as well. Their skifgar guide lowered itself to its knees and crawled forward. If not for Sabre's solid presence, Tassin would have collapsed from sheer terror. Animosity charged the air, and the sullen red eyes of hundreds of skifgar bored into her. She swallowed bile. Never had she been so afraid, yet Sabre raised his chin and glared back without fear. She berated herself for her cowardice and straightened.
Two sun-slugs circled the roof, constantly renewing the glowing slime. In front of the packed rows of high-ranking warriors was an area of polished resin floor. Translucent pillars flanked a row of shallow, curving steps, and four gaudily-marked warriors stood beside them. Faint lines of silver gleamed amongst their gold, red, green and blue markings. Resin curtains hung behind the dais, which the yellow slime on the wall beyond lighted with a soft golden glow. The queen sat in the centre of the dais, no larger than her warriors, yet quite different.
Her skin was a solid mass of gold and silver stripes and spots, and, whereas warriors and workers had undeveloped knobs, she had long, delicate spikes. Two sets of blade arms coiled beneath her fragile hand arms, and her dagger-tipped tail was far longer than her warriors'. She rested on a sloping ramp, forelegs dangling, hind legs bunched. Bright green eyes blazed in her dished, seahorse face, and white hair ran from her chin, along the underside of her jaw and neck onto her chest.
The worker skifgar stopped and lowered its head to the ground when one of the four brightly marked warriors approached. After a short, hissed exchange, the worker backed away. Sabre stepped aside, tugging Tassin out of the way as Garchish retreated. She tried not to cower when the warrior turned to Sabre, its gleaming, razor-edged blades within reach.
The skifgar queen's attention was riveted to a red and white-striped creature with an amazing number of legs that cavorted before her, at times revealing a row of square white teeth in a ludicrous grin. Its spherical, furry body bounced about like a ball, thin legs waving. Tassin wondered if this was the entertainment or an entrée.
Sabre studied the warrior, whose expressionless eyes raked Tassin. Luckily she was watching the furry creature, and did not notice. Garchish had told this warrior who they were, yet she showed Tassin no respect.
Sabre hissed, "Is it not proper to show respect to an invader-queen?"
The practice he had gained with Garchish had improved his pronunciation vastly, and there was little wrong with his speech now. The warrior glanced at him, then bobbed her head at Tassin. A token sign of respect, which Tassin did not notice. Sabre glared at the trendil.
"We wish to speak to your kin-mother-queen."
"She is busy." The warrior's blade arms twitched. "You will speak to me."
Remembering Garchish's words, Sabre shook his head. "No. I will speak to your kin-mother-queen."
"You are only a warrior. A wooden-head warrior, at that. You do not have the status to demand an audience with kin-mother-queen."
"But my kin-mother-queen does," Sabre said.
"Yet she does not speak. She looks like a wooden-head to me."
Sabre glanced at Tassin, who was engrossed in the animal clown's antics. He restrained himself from digging her in the ribs and faced her.
"Tassin."
She turned to him, glancing at the looming warrior, and he was glad it was unable to read human expressions. He said, "Pay attention. Act like you're giving me an order. Shout if you can. We have to draw the queen's attention."
She shivered, her eyes darting to the warrior again, and licked her lips. "Why?" It was almost a whisper, and Sabre groaned inwardly.
"Because we have to impress her, or we'll end up in the larder. Stop being a damn coward and pull yourself together. You're acting like a spineless twit! Do you want to die? I thought you were supposed to be a warrior queen, not a snivelling, frightened little girl!"
Sabre spoke in a respectful, hushed tone, but his words were meant to make her angry, and, as he hoped, rage flared in her eyes. He knew it was not just his words that inspired it. Her fear angered her, for Tassin was no coward. She was tired of being afraid. She wanted to go home, and his insults turned her fear into fury.
Her hand lashed out, catching him across the cheek in a stinging slap, which he did not try to avoid. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, watching the trendil's reaction.
"How dare you?" she cried in ringing tones. "I'm not afraid of a bunch of stupid, lumpy monsters!" She advanced on the warrior, shaking a fist at her. "Get down on your knees, animal! I'm a queen, and you'll show me respect!"
Sabre hissed a modified translation into the stunned silence that followed her ringing tirade. To his relief, the warrior backed away and lowered her head. Tassin glared at the trendil.
"I'm sick to death of all this damned sneaking around and political mumbo jumbo! I want that damned sword, and I want to go home! I don't want to die in this stinking, slug-infested, slime-riddled cesspit! And what you've done to those people is shameful! They're not damned animals..."
By now Sabre was having trouble fabricating a suitable translation. Tassin seemed to have tapped into a font of deep, heartfelt emotion that he could not reveal to the trendils. He crawled to her and tugged at her dress, as if asking her forgiveness.
"For Pete's sake shut up! That's enough!"
The Queen looked at him, her eyes sparkling with rage, mouth open to vent the next chapter of her spleen. She sagged and reached for him, but he pushed her away and rose to his feet, as if that had been the signal. Gripping her arm to steady her and hold her away, he scanned the chamber.
A pin dropping would have sounded like a thunderclap. The animal clown had paused in mid-gambol, half of its legs in the air, to stare at them with bulging baby-blue eyes. The trendil queen's icy green gaze was fixed on Tassin, and the warrior retreated. Sabre tried to remember how he had translated Tassin's words. It had had a lot to do with proper respect and demanding to speak to the queen, but a few 'damns' had slipped into the mess, since it was hard to improvise.
The animal clown lowered its legs to the floor and crept away. The trendil queen had stiffened in her languid pose, and a pair of blade arms uncoiled. Her face was incapable of expression, but there was a wealth of it in her words.
"An invader-queen in my hive? A wooden-head queen? Why was I not told?" Her hiss filled the silence with venom, reminding Sabre of a pit of snakes poked with a stick, and he realised that the trendil queen was not a nice person. A gold and silver blade arm beckoned.
"Come closer, invader-queen."
Her gesture and words held a wealth of menace, and Sabre's heart sank. He tugged Tassin forward, translating while he walked. She clung to him with a trembling hand, her eyes filled with fearful defiance. As he stopped before the trendil queen, Sabre sank to one knee and bowed his head. Her cold eyes flicked over him and impaled Tassin.
"What are you doing in my hive, wooden-head queen? Do you wish to rule the meat animals in their pen?"
A wave of hissing issued from the packed lines of warriors behind them, and the cyber failed to translate it. Sabre prodded for a translation, and it obliged with 'ha ha ha'. So, trendils could laugh.
He raised his head. "Hive-queen. I must speak for my kin-mother-queen. She does not speak your tongue." He paused as her cold eyes drifted to him. "We come in search of a metal... object that came with us, but that we have lost. Do you know where it is?"
"Yes."
The alien queen sounded bored, and Sabre hurried on, "I know you don't wish us in your hive, and we don't want to be here. The metal object brought us here by accident. It's our tool. If you return it we will leave, and not bother you further."
The matriarch seemed to swell. "You! You who tried to wipe us out! You dare to ask a favour of me!"
"No, I -"
The trendil queen hissed, "You came to our world in your metal ships and walked amongst us as if you owned the planet. We did not offer you harm, yet you drove us away with bright weapons, and killed many. We tried to speak to you, but you would not listen. You cleared our land, cut our forests, slaughtered our meat animals. You spread your ugliness in your wake. Metal boxes, rock paths that suffocated the ground, metal webs that cut and hurt, evil smoke that spoilt the air.
"Still we offered you no harm, yet you killed any warrior or worker you found. We moved away, but you came after us in metal birds that roared, hunted us like prey animals. Then you found the city of a sister-queen, and you destroyed it with fire and light. Twenty-five thousand workers, eleven thousand warriors, and a queen. We felt their deaths, every one, and when our sister-queen died, it was war.
"How easily you perished! Without your metal birds and fire, you sliced like fat grubs, and you were good to eat. Since you had killed our meat beasts, we brought you within the hive to breed for food. But you made trouble, so we made you stupid, and harmless. You lost the war, man-thing. We killed your warriors, but we never found a queen. When you were defeated, you killed our world.
"You made many flashes of light and thunder, and everything died, animals, trees, and our people above the ground. You did not know we lived below, did you? We survived, man-thing, on your brothers' flesh. The surface of our world is now a death trap for any who set foot there. Now you come to us asking for our help, when before you never even spoke to us! What jest is this?"
Sabre kept his head bowed while she vented her wrath, holding onto Tassin when she would have retreated from the vicious hisses. The story did not surprise him. The universe was filled with planets on which mankind had made similar mistakes. Humans were famous for their arrogance, yet seldom had they underestimated an alien intelligence as much as this one. Turning to Tassin, he outlined the story the trendil queen had told him. She looked shocked, and he prodded her.
"Say something. She expects commands to come from you. I'm just an interpreter."
"I... I don't know what to say. If she blames us for that, we're doomed."
Sabre turned to the trendil queen. "Hive-queen -"
"Your speech is brief," she interrupted. "But then, you already knew the story, of course."
"No. That was not my kin-mother-queen's hive."
The ranks of warriors behind them hissed, and the trendil queen waited for it to die down. "You lie. The invader-queen was never found. It must be her."
Sabre turned to Tassin again. "She doesn't believe me. I told her those people aren't ours. Say something."
"I don't know what to say. Why can't she just give us the damned sword?"
Sabre faced the alien queen. "We come from another land. My kin-mother-queen is not the invader-queen. If she was, we would not have come to you for help."
The warriors behind them hissed again, and the trendil queen weaved her neck in evident annoyance. "I don't care if she is that queen. She is the same kind. You are man-things; our enemy!"
Sabre longed to stand up, but remained on one knee, looking up at Tassin. "She's not happy. Trouble is, they hate people. They certainly don't want to help us. Say something."
"Well it's people who are keeping them alive now, isn't it? Without them, they would be extinct. Anyway, why don't you tell them about the sword?"
Sabre turned to the alien queen. "Hive-queen, you live on man-thing's flesh now. They pay for their crime, but the metal tool you have is dangerous. It could harm you if we don't take it away."
The trendil queen leant forward. "How is it dangerous?"
"It is a man-thing's weapon. It can make thunder and light, and kill your entire hive."
"So why do you want it?"
Sabre glanced up at Tassin, then turned back to the alien queen. "We will take it back to our land, where we will use it to fight our enemies, who are also man-things."
The hive-queen did not seem to notice that Tassin had not spoken. Her blade arms coiled and uncoiled, revealing her tension. The razor-sharp blades made a slithering noise as they rubbed against her leathery skin, and her head weaved to and fro. "Very well. You can take the metal tool, but I still have the right to challenge the invader-queen. She will fight me."
Sabre's heart sank. He was sure Tassin could hardly beat off a friendly dog with a stick. The thought of her trying to fight this four-metre tall bony monstrosity with scythe arms was a joke. The hissed laughter from the warriors behind him confirmed that they thought so too. The alien queen wanted revenge, pure and simple, and did not care about fair play. Tassin waited for a translation, and he told her that he would have to fight one of the warriors, receiving the expected horrified reaction. Before she could protest, he faced the hive-queen again.
"We are from different cultures, different peoples. You demand a blood debt battle between queens. We have different traditions. We know blood debt, but our queens don't fight. They appoint a warrior. If we must accept your challenge, then we ask that it be on our terms."
The trendil queen lowered her head to regard him with wintry eyes. "You? We all know how puny you man-things are in battle. It makes little difference whether it's you or she who dies, so long as one lives to remove the metal tool from our hive."
"Then you accept?"
"Yes."
"Which warrior do you choose?"
The alien queen swept the assembly with a gimlet eye, which came to rest on the warrior that had spoken to them at the door. "She."
Sabre turned to Tassin. "Go and wait by that pillar. You'll be safe, whether I win or lose. The queen wants the sword taken away."
"No! You can't fight one of these monsters!" She clung to his arm as he regained his feet, his knee aching.
"I must." He held her away, aware that every eye was upon them. "Don't make a scene, and don't argue. I should win. Cybers are pitted against aliens all the time. They usually win. If I don't, you can make the sword take you back. Don't argue!"
Tassin closed her mouth with a snap and glanced at their audience. Her mulish expression clashed with the shimmer of tears in her eyes, and she swallowed hard. "Good luck."
Tassin walked to the pillar and stood beside it, where Sabre hoped she would be out of harm's way. She raised her chin, her eyes alight with defiance in spite of her fear, and he admired her pluck once more. He was sure the trendil queen would give her the sword if he lost, but he was not so certain the Core would obey her. If it didn't, she would be trapped here, and he doubted she would be allowed to live. He had to win this battle, but his confident words had been only to comfort her. A cyber had never fought a trendil, so he had no reference data on their weaknesses or strengths. Sabre was all too well aware that a cyber was mostly human, just flesh and bone. He had not yet fully recovered from his previous ordeal, and his bio status was only at sixty-five per cent.
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?"
Tassin 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."
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.
The sand bore the tracks of an exodus of monsters, and Sabre hoped most would die in the desert. Purr gazed around with a disappointed air, becoming almost bald in the heat. Not far from the mist wall, they came across a battleground. The corpses of three Death Zone monsters lay beside a partially devoured sand dragon. Sabre was sorry the sand dragon had lost, but it had been badly outnumbered. Judging by the tracks in the churned sand, at least a dozen monsters had fought it, and blood-streaked trails told him that many wounded beasts had left the carnage. He hoped they would die, and many more would fall foul of sand dragons. They walked past the bloated corpses to escape the stench, then made camp and rested through the heat of the day, dozing in the cart's shade. At sundown they set out again, Sabre keeping an eye on the scanners.
The nights of endless trudging passed with incredible tedium, and Sabre wondered if they were crossing a broader or narrower section of the Badlands. He avoided patches of radiation, but at least when Dena scampered away he did not have to worry about her, although several times he warned her not to collect pretty stones that were slightly radioactive. With plenty of provisions, the only discomfort was the daytime heat, which made it hard to sleep, and the night chill.
On the third night, they encountered one of the worm creatures. Dena studied it with awed fascination, spending two hours watching it forage amongst the rocks, selecting edible stones with its sensitive feelers. While he waited, Sabre pondered the possible future of these animals. When the edible copper-bearing rocks on the surface were exhausted, the beasts would be forced to dig for their food or become extinct, taking the dragons with them. A warning flash drew his attention to the scanners' data, which showed a group of five monsters two kilometres away. He called Dena, and they set off once more, adjusting their course stay away from the beasts.
Sabre admired the donkeys' stamina and hardiness, for they showed no sign of fatigue or weight loss, despite the shortage of food and water. At times their mournful, klaxon braying, which tapered off into whistling moans and comical grunts, woke him during the day. On the eighth night, he and Tassin discussed the plan to retake Arlin while they walked.
"Taking the kingdom back will be no problem," she assured him. "My uncle will be regent now, and when I return it will automatically revert to me, as the rightful heir."
Sabre nodded. "Good. Then we just have to get to your castle without Torrian finding out, and keep our presence a secret until I've installed the weapons and trained the men. I think we should keep the cart and travel as a poor peasant family."
"Yes, you could wrap a cloth around your head, and I'll wear a veil. When the soldiers were searching for us, that wouldn't have worked, but now I doubt they'll give us a second glance."
Dena, who rode a donkey beside them, said, "If they get funny, I'll distract them."
Sabre glanced at her in surprise, realising that the child longed to be useful, and a part of their plans. "Good idea. Maybe you could throw a tantrum or something, start crying, pretend to be ill?"
Dena grinned. "No, I'll run away and pick a fight with someone, then you'll have to come after me."
Tassin smiled. "That would do it."
Twice more, the scanners detected groups of Death Zone monsters, and once they crossed a claw-footed track that meandered aimlessly. They came across the bloated corpse of a bird-like creature with a fearsome toothed beak and shrivelled venom sacks that appeared to have died of dehydration, its vestigial wings useless for flight.
Sabre calculated that they had travelled for twenty days when the mountains appeared ahead one morning, blue in the distance. Tassin joined Dena in a wild jig that left them breathless and giggling. The donkeys' fodder had run out two days before, and the food and water were almost gone. Purr eyed the distant mountains with some excitement. He was still becoming accustomed to the fact that nothing Changed anymore, but his ability to shift remained an asset. During the day he was almost hairless and large eared, while at night he became furry.
The following morning, they reached the grassy flats that ran up to the road and stopped beside a rivulet to rest, eat roast rabbit and bathe while the donkeys grazed. Olgara was visible in the distance, so they were three days travel from the mountain pass. Sabre cut a strip off Tassin's old petticoat to wrap around his forehead, and she used the remainder as a head cover and veil. The next day they travelled along the dusty road, coaches and wagons overtaking them.
Dena, who had never seen horses before, begged Tassin to give her one when they reached the castle. They came across a few wrecked carts, their cargo strewn on the scuffed ground, a sure sign that some Death Zone monsters had made it this far. Once they passed a freshly killed beast, the soldiers who had slain it still standing around discussing the battle.
At the pass, they joined the traffic entering Arlin, carrying goods from Olgara. Since Olgaran soil was poor, the city-kingdom traded mostly in goat's cheese, powerful wines, dates and salt from the coast beyond the city. Arlin traded fresh vegetables, salted meat and fruit. The queue of carts was long, and Sabre realised that it was autumn again, the harvests were in and the merchants busy. Border guards leant on their spears, lifting tarpaulins to examine cargo. Disputes broke out when guards demanded bribes to allow contraband through the border, and merchants protested.
When their turn came, the guards looked as if they would wave them through, then one stepped up.
"What's in the cart?"
Sabre ducked his head. "Metal, Sergeant."
"I ain't a sergeant." The soldier wandered to the back of the cart and lifted the old cloths they had draped over the cargo. His eyes widened at the sight of the gleaming silver tubes. "'Ere, where'd you get this?"
"Found it, Corporal."
The soldier glared at him. "I ain't a corporal, either. Where'd you find it?"
Sabre waved a hand. "Beyond Olgara."
"What if it's cursed?"
"It's not. We were there for many days, and none of us is sick."
The soldier grunted, eyeing the metal cylinders. "Where are you taking it?"
Sabre glanced at Tassin, who replied, "To the smelters at Miller's Rest. They can make good spear heads and swords from it."
The guard frowned, and Sabre thought he was going to object to her assertion. Surely he did not know that the alloy from which the weapons were made was far too hard for a medieval smelter to melt? Evidently he did not, for he dropped the cloth and came back to stand before Sabre.
"Scavengers, aren't you?"
"Yes, Captain." Sabre bowed his head.
"I ain't a captain!" The soldier looked back at the growing queue of muttering merchants behind them and gave Sabre a final glare. "Go on then, move this heap!"
Sabre led the donkeys forward, and they crested the pass, emerging from the mountains' rocky outcrops to descend into Arlin. Tassin grinned at the vista of rolling green fields dotted with shepherds' huts and flocks of sheep that lay before them. Belts of forest clothed the land like patches of moss on a green, rumpled blanket, and she revelled in the fresh, cool air and verdure.
The journey became less arduous, although they had to camp in the forest. Tassin wished she could to buy a wagon or at least afford to stay at an inn, but was not prepared to ask Sabre to earn any money. The donkeys grew fat and needed less goading, allowing him to ride on the cart. Purr sat between them like a fat, oddly marked cat, and Tassin hoped he would be accepted as such, as long as he did not speak to anyone but them.
Niam would be Regent, and she looked forward to seeing his expression when she returned. Her cousin would be disappointed that he would remain a prince. Sabre's gloomy expression surprised her.
"What's wrong?"
He shrugged. "Just wondering what I'm going to do with myself now that our adventures are over."
"You'll stay with us, of course," she said, as if no other option existed. "After all you've done, I shall make you a lord. As such, you'll be entitled to an estate, which I shall award you, and a yearly stipend from the crown. You'll have servants, and a community that will rely on you to represent them at court. You'll have a stable of fine horses and go hunting with your peers. You'll hold balls and..." Tassin trailed off, dismayed by his dour mien. "You don't like the idea?"
"It all sounds very grand, but it's not for me. Once your problems are solved, it will only be a matter of time before the spacer returns for me. There's no point in giving me all those things. I won't be around long enough to make it worth your while, and it's not my style, anyway." Tassin opened her mouth to protest, but he added, "I'll build a little home somewhere nice, and grow a few vegetables, have a few animals. It's enough for me until he takes me away. It's more than a cyber ever had before."
Dena cried, "I'll come with you! We can get married!"
"Be quiet," Tassin snapped.
The child pouted, clearly surprised by the rebuke.
Tassin studied Sabre, who stared ahead. She said, "When I make you a lord, you'll be a citizen of this world, with the right to live here for the rest of your life. Manutim would not dare to steal you away then."
He shook his head. "Manutim won't care if I'm the bloody King. You don't understand. To him I'm not even a human being. I'm a piece of equipment. Don't you get it? As far as he, and the rest of the universe, is concerned, I'm a damaged fighting machine, with no rights at all on any planet."
"But you're not a machine anymore, you're a man. You always were a man, but now you're a free man. He can't enslave you!"
"No. To him, I'm just broken. He'll have me fixed."
For a long time, only the clip-clop of the donkey's hooves and the rattle of the metal wheels broke the silence. Tassin frowned as she pondered his words, dismayed but still unable to believe that such a barbaric thing was possible.
"Then have whatever you want," she said. "Build your hut and live in the woods, but don't leave me. I won't allow Manutim to take you away, I promise. I'll raise an army to fight him."
Tassin touched his arm, desperate to persuade him to stay with her so she could win his heart and protect him from Manutim. Sabre glanced at her work-roughened hand, and a bleak, haunted expression flitted across his face. He raised piercing pale eyes and met hers, then looked ahead again.
"Maybe."
Tassin slumped with relief, withdrawing her hand. Dena looked from one to the other with a knowing smile, and the mosscat gave a purring chuckle. Tassin shot him a dirty look, and he smirked, wiping his whiskers. The Queen stared ahead, eager for the first glimpse of her home.
When it came into sight as they rounded a bend, Dena crowed, "Look, a castle!"
Tassin's heart swelled with joy and her eyes filled with tears. The grey stone fortress stood like a bastion of sanctuary in its estate of green fields, solid and comforting. Her home, where she had been born. Pennants flew from the battlements, and she recognised her uncle's colours, as well as his son's. In the valley below, Traytown sprawled. Smoke rose from its chimneys and people moved like ants along its cobbled streets. Death Zone monsters had ravaged parts of it, and tracts of flattened, torn up crops led to smashed, burnt houses. A cart trundled towards them, probably having delivered produce to the duke. The farmer hailed them as he passed by, his florid, weather-beaten face wreathed in a simple smile. It was all so familiar and peaceful.
Sorrow mixed oddly with her joy. After all the ordeals she had been through, now a greater danger threatened. What if she could not prevent Manutim from taking Sabre away? The thought brought a stab of exquisite pain, and tears trickled down her cheeks.
Sabre glanced at her and smiled. "Glad to be home?"
She nodded and wiped her eyes, forcing a weak smile.
As the donkeys approached the tall gates, two guards stepped out and blocked the drawbridge with crossed spears. Sabre hauled the donkeys to a halt and smiled at Tassin.
"Here's your moment of glory."
She swallowed a lump and climbed down to approach the unfamiliar guards, who were probably from Niam's army.
"State your business," one said.
"Where's Captain Effan?"
"Killed in the war."
"Oh." Tassin pushed back the old petticoat that covered her hair and drew herself up, aware of her outlandish leather dress and suntanned appearance. "You may tell my uncle that his niece, Queen Tassin, wishes to see him at once."
Her tone no longer carried its old authoritarian air, and the guards looked at each other, then laughed.
"What loony bin did you escape from?" one asked.
Sabre chuckled and Dena giggled. Tassin shot them a glare, but grinned, almost laughing. Turning back to the chortling guards, she schooled her expression.
"I do not recognise either of you, so you must be from Niam's army. Kindly call one of my old soldiers."
The guards swapped glances again. "Look, lass, it was a good joke, but Queen Tassin's dead, God rest her soul." He made a religious gesture. "Your 'usband and daughter are waiting." He said it in a kindly way, and her smile returned.
"I know it must be hard to believe, but surely it would not be too much to ask, just to see one of the old guards?" She rattled off as many names as she could remember, and the sentries shuffled their feet, looking uneasy.
"Used to work here, did you?"
"In a manner of speaking. I was born here. My mother was Queen Arial and my father was King Litham Alrade."
The men swapped nervous looks, then one jerked his head and the other hurried away. Within minutes he returned with a robust, florid man whom Tassin recognised.
"Erman!"
The soldier stopped, his eyes bulging. He took another step, then his legs buckled and he fell to his knees, the blood draining from his face. "My Queen!"
Tassin looked at the sentries. "There, you see?"
Erman wobbled to his feet and shambled towards her, where he knelt again, his eyes never leaving her. "You're alive! Praise the Lord! You're alive!"
"Indeed I am, Erman. Would you be so kind as to inform my uncle?"
Erman leapt up. "At once, Your Majesty! At once!" He dashed away as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.
She eyed the thunderstruck sentries. "Now may I come in?"
They stepped aside, bowing. One said, "Yes, Your Majesty. We apologise for not recognising you."
She waved it away. "It has been a long time, and you never knew me."
As she walked into the courtyard, Tassin experienced a resurgence of the intense pride and euphoria her queenly status had always engendered, a sensation she had all but forgotten. Now she realised how much of her air of authority and power had seeped out of her over the months. It flooded back, but she refused to let it go to her head. The cart rattled in behind her, and she turned to smile at Sabre and Dena, who bounced with excitement. Three grooms ambled out of the stable, and one of the sentries hurried over to whisper in their ears. They shot Tassin dumbfounded looks, then bowed and ran to the cart to lead the donkeys away. Sabre and Dena jumped down, but Purr remained atop the cart, disdaining to disembark in the courtyard.
Sabre gazed around. "It hasn't changed much."
"Of course not. It is a castle." She smiled, then looked around as shrieks, shouts and screams came from inside the fortress. Niam's deep bellow tried to quell the uproar. The unintelligible gabble of voices raised in surprise and disbelief grew louder, then a babbling throng spilt into the courtyard, led by Niam's massive figure. Erman scuttled beside him, Niam's huge fist bunched in his scruff. As her uncle caught sight of her, he dropped Erman like a shaken rat and stopped dead, causing a pile up behind him.
"Tassin?" He stared at her with bulging eyes.
She raised her arms, then let them fall back in an expansive gesture. "Back from the dead, Uncle."
Niam strode over to her and engulfed her in a bone-cracking hug that Sabre was afraid she would not survive. She emerged alive, if tousled and breathless. Niam's wife, Bethan, fluttered around, overwhelmed by the excitement, until Niam roared, "A bath! Some clothes! Food! Go!"
A bevy of ladies-in-waiting gathered around Tassin, gabbling, squeaking and fluttering lacy hankies. Niam's eyes drifted to Dena and Sabre, who expected to be ordered to the barracks.
Tassin was quicker. "Niam!"
Everyone froze, looking fearful and confused. Niam turned to Tassin. "Yes, Majesty?"
"Those two come with me. They are nobility, and must be treated as such."
Niam bowed. "Of course, My Queen."
Sabre raised a brow, but Tassin grinned and allowed the ladies to lead her away. Niam beckoned to a servant and instructed him to see to their needs, then hurried after the Queen. Sabre and Dena followed the man to a spacious suite whose grey walls were hung with tapestries and portraits. Finely woven rugs softened its floors and polished dark wood chairs provided seating. Delicate tables held antique ornaments and a vast fireplace dominated one wall, a pair of battle-axes hanging above it. A doorway led into a big bedroom with a four-poster bed and a bathing room off it. The servant left them, saying that he would order baths.
Dena pulled a face. "I had a bath four days ago."
Sabre smiled. "You'll find one terrible custom in this country, which you'll have to learn to live with, I'm afraid. Here they bath every day."
Dena looked horrified. "Every day? No way!"
"Princesses aren't allowed to smell."
Dena considered this, her brow puckered. "You mean, if I don't bath, I can't be a princess?" He nodded, and the child heaved a great sigh. "In that case, I suppose I'll have to."
His lips twitched at her hang-dog air. "Yes, I suppose you will."
"I knew there'd be something bad about being a princess." She flung herself into an upholstered chair.
Sabre went over to the windows and gazed out at the forest, whose leaves turned yellow and orange as autumn approached again. A year had passed while he travelled through the strange lands beyond the desert, looking after Tassin. Now she no longer needed him. A cyber without a mission was as useless as nipples on a bull, he mused, and his time was running out. As soon as the lasers were installed, he would be redundant. Tassin would rejoin her high society and forget him. That was good, and the less he saw of her now, the better. It did nothing to ease the ache in his chest, however. The prospect of returning to his half-life of pain and subjugation loomed like a shadow over him.
"You love her, don't you?" Dena asked.
Sabre turned. "No."
"You do! I can see it in your eyes, when you look at her and she can't see you."
"Really? Well, you're wrong."
"She loves you too."
"Stop it."
"She does! I'm right about you. Why should I be wrong about her?"
He shook his head, turning back to the window to hide his pain. "I don't love anyone. We're friends, that's all."
"But she does love you. I'm sure of it."
He sighed and faced her again. "That makes no difference."
"You're being cruel."
"No, I'm trying to save her from a lot of pain. It seems cruel now, but in the long run it'll be kinder."
Dena snorted. "I never thought you were so mean."
Sabre strolled across the room to gaze down at her. "I'm not mean. I'm not trying to hurt Tassin. I just can't allow myself to feel... emotions. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. Now leave it alone."
She glared up at him. "That's silly!"
A knock at the door made him swing around as it opened to admit a bevy of servants burdened with pails of steaming water.
That evening, at a hastily arranged banquet to celebrate the Queen's return, Sabre was forced to sit through a number of long, tedious speeches. Evidently Tassin had explained at great length that he was the reason for her survival, and many toasts were drunk to him. He accepted the accolades with a wry smile, declining to make a speech. He was forced to wear a stylish suit of dark blue velvet trimmed with silver, since when he had emerged from the bathing-room, he had found that his clothes had been confiscated and the blue suit was all there was to wear. The velvet itched, and he scratched irritably, ignoring his neighbours' pointed looks. Tassin sat at the head of the high table, looking uncomfortable in a high-necked white satin dress ornamented with silver and gold thread, seed pearls and tiny diamonds. A golden circlet held a sapphire at her brow, and, judging by her frown, it was giving her a splitting headache.
The duke sat on her right and Bethan on her left, while Sabre and Dena had been relegated to the lower tables with the lordlings and knights. Dena wore a stiff pink dress with white ribbons, probably one of Tassin's old ones, dug from a dusty chest. Unfortunately, it was stretched across her hunched back, and, although her short hair had been washed and curled, its patchiness was still obvious. The girl told anyone who would listen that she was going to be a princess, most of whom looked disbelieving. Sabre hoped the Queen remembered her promise.
Sabre enjoyed the food, the likes of which he had never tasted before. Juicy roast fowl, crisped to a turn, preceded a course of sucking pig bathed in savoury sauce. Pitchers of wine and frothy ale accompanied it, along with steaming plates of vegetables in creamy sauce, boats of gravy, bowls of soup and platters of savoury meats. He sampled them all, avoiding only the wine and ale. When people tried to engage him in conversation, they found his mouth full and politely left him to eat.
By the time dessert arrived, he had undone several of his jacket's buttons, and started on the sweets with a will. Bowls of strawberries and jugs of yellow cream jostled for space amid plates of honey cakes and apple pie, gooseberry pie, raspberry pie and custard. He tried them all as well, his stomach stretching to its limit. When he could not eat another bite, he pushed his plate aside and looked up to find Tassin watching him. He smiled and patted his belly in appreciation, and she smiled back a little weakly.
Sabre turned to Dena and recoiled. Sticky sauce and custard smeared her face to the eyebrows. Wetting a napkin in a finger bowl, he wiped it off, much to her disgust and her neighbours' obvious relief, for the sight had been unappetising. She glared at him when he was finished.
"Princesses don't stuff their faces like that," he pointed out.
"Well, I'm not a princess, yet. But if I was, I doubt I would have my face scrubbed like that."
"Yes you would. Princesses are still children."
She sighed. "Well, I'm full, anyway." Her eyes drooped.
"Tired?"
"No!" Her eyes snapped open, slightly glazed.
"Yes you are. Come on, time for bed."
He rose and pulled her from her chair, ignoring her mumbled protests. Picking her up, he carried her out, glad to have a reason to leave.
"Do you want to drown in your pudding?"
"No." She looked at him suspiciously.
"Then you must go to bed, or you'll fall asleep and your face will end up in that bowl of cream, and you'll drown."
Dena eyed him. "You're a terrible liar."
"Am I? Well, look at it this way. If you eat any more, you'll get fat, and then you'll look like a round lump in all those pretty dresses you'll have when you're a princess, and people will look at you and say, `Oooh look, there's the fat princess!'."
Dena giggled and snuggled closer to wrap her arms around his neck. Sabre tucked her into bed, then shucked his itchy clothes and climbed into his own.
The next morning, Sabre woke to find Dena already gone, and a new set of clothes, this time dark grey cotton, laid out for him. Normally such activity would have woken him, but his sleep had been heavy and dreamless. The soft bed, large meal and hot bath, combined with his exhaustion and newfound safety had contrived to relax him, and he was much refreshed for it. The cyber would have flashed a warning when anyone entered his room, but he must have slept through it. He discovered a distended Purr asleep on the cushions in the lounge, and he opened a sleepy eye at Sabre's approach.
"I take it you found the kitchen, Purr?"
The mosscat yawned with sated satisfaction. "Yes, what a place. I never saw so much food in all my life."
Sabre chuckled. "Careful, or you'll get so fat you'll be waddling just now."
Purr stretched, muscles thrumming. "Never fear, I have a lot of catching up to do. Many lean years of raw fish and Flux-fruit."
"So you do like it here, then?"
"Sure, it's okay. Could get boring, though." He gave his purring chuckle. "There was a cat in the kitchen who thought she owned the place, but I soon changed her mind."
Sabre smiled. "How did you do that?"
"With a claw."
"A claw?"
Purr extended a chubby hand, and a six-centimetre, razor-sharp claw shot from the end of one finger. He sneezed softly. "She thought her claws were sharp."
Sabre laughed. "There's not much to match you here, that's for sure."
Purr regarded him. "Yes, I'll look after the Queen when you're gone."
He frowned. "You do that."
In the courtyard, Sabre collared a few loitering soldiers and told them to transport the lasers to positions on the walls. The sergeant objected, and Sabre suggested that he see the Queen, which he evidently did, returning white-faced, presumably with a flea in his ear. From this, Sabre deduced that Tassin was back in queenly form, and chuckled. After that, he had all the help he needed.
At the bottom of the cart, he found the humming sword. He took it to his room and wrapped it in a cloth before stowing it in a cupboard. The sword chimed as he was about to shut it away in the darkness, and he glared at it.
"This is more than you deserve, so don't complain."
The sword gave a flat chime as he closed the door. He locked it, hiding the key in a crack under the mantelpiece. On his way out, he turned and addressed the cupboard. "For all I care, you can stay there forever."
Over the course of the following week, the stone masons and carpenters Sabre hired built gun placements and cradles for the laser cannons. The soldiers eyed the silver cylinders he placed in the cradles with overt curiosity. He wondered what Tassin had said to the sergeant, for the soldiers and workmen followed his instructions without hesitation or question, and even called him 'sir'. Several times, he spotted nobles watching him, even the duke, but no one bothered him.
In two days, he had the weapons mounted on swivelling wooden supports, protected by walls on the sides and most of the front, allowing enough room to turn them. He glimpsed Dena in the company of noble ladies on several occasions, looking radiant in frilly frocks. She had been moved to another room, but was not a princess yet. In order to do that, he guessed that Tassin would have to adopt her, probably a lengthy process.
When the lasers were installed, Sabre called together the soldiers and asked for volunteers to work the new weapons. The men muttered, shaking their heads.
He turned to the sergeant. "Go and tell the Queen."
The man blanched. "Tell her what, sir?"
"That her men are a bunch of superstitious cowards."
The sergeant's eyes darted, and he coughed. "That -- that won't be necessary, sir."
"Good. I need twenty men." Sabre left the sergeant to find twenty reluctant volunteers.
When the men presented themselves, looking cowed, Sabre showed them how to aim and fire the disarmed lasers. The big weapons had several settings and telescopic sights, which he removed, deciding that a glance through them would blow the soldiers' superstitious minds. He set them to broad beam, since they were not going to be used with any degree of accuracy, and the power he set to medium, which was plenty for poorly armoured men. When the men were familiar with the weapons, he ordered them to place straw bales in the fields around the castle and invited Tassin to watch the demonstration.
The Queen appeared on a balcony above the courtyard with the duke, Dena, Bethan and a number of strangers. The trainees gathered around when Sabre settled behind a laser and inserted a power pack. He set the beam to fine, aimed at the furthest bale and fired. It vanished in a blast of fire and black smoke, a cloud of ash settling in its place. He glanced around at the stupefied men who stared at the spot where the bale had been. Tassin and Dena applauded, while the other nobles stood open-mouthed. Sabre grinned and swung the laser to aim at another bale. After destroying three bales, he moved to the next laser, taking the power pack with him.
When he asked for a volunteer, the men clamoured to be chosen. Combining testing with training, Sabre fired each laser in turn, finding only one that did not work. He replaced it, then tested the grenade launchers, which all worked. The launchers impressed the men even more than the lasers had, and they begged for permission to practice more, but ammunition was scarce. When the training was over, he covered the lasers with cloths and found Tassin waiting in the courtyard.
He approached her. "Your Majesty?"
She frowned, fiddling with the heavy lace on the skirt of her lavish azure satin dress. "Do not call me that."
"I'm glad you haven't turned back into that snobbish little cow I first met."
"I shall never be like that again. I was a fool."
"Agreed."
She looked down at the lace she had mangled, smoothing it. "I am sending messengers to the kings tomorrow, to tell them I am back. The lasers are ready, so I cannot delay any longer."
He shrugged. "I hope there isn't too much killing."
"I have asked for a parley, so there should not be any killing, just a demonstration."
Sabre nodded, glancing away. He wondered why he was so ill at ease in her company after only a few days apart. Tassin obviously suffered from an attack of shyness, and he found it hard to look at her. His eyes slid away from her alien finery and elaborately dressed hair.
He cleared his throat. "Good. By the way, when are you anointing Dena a princess? You did promise."
"I know. Tonight, actually. I want you to come to the feast. You have not been in the supper hall since we arrived."
He studied the soldiers on the battlements. "All those busy bodies asking questions. I prefer my own company. I'll never fit into your society."
"I suppose not. But just tonight? Dena will be so unhappy if you do not." She stopped smoothing the lace, which was growing limp, and sent him a quick, shy glance.
Sabre shifted, became aware that his hands hung at his sides and clasped them behind his back. He felt like a loitering fool, unused to the inactivity of safety, and uneasy with it. "Sure, I'll come. The grub's great, at any rate."
"Grub?"
"Food." He smiled, his eyes flitting over her face. Tassin opened her mouth, then shut it again and shot him an answering smile before turning away. He watched her go, his heart heavy. As soon as Torrian was no longer a threat, he would leave. When he returned to his room, he found another foppish suit laid out for him, and groaned.
At the banquet, which was smaller than the first, Dena sat beside Tassin, dressed in a lacy white frock covered with ribbons and embroidered yellow flowers. Her hair was curled to hide the bare patches, and a lacy cap sprigged with fresh blossoms covered the worst of the mutation. The dress was designed to hide her hunch, and she looked like a normal, pretty little girl. A fire burnt in the massive hearth behind the Queen, giving off waves of welcome heat. Winter approached, and draughts plagued the castle.
Before the main course, Tassin rose to her feet and silence fell, broken only by Sabre munching an entrée. This drew the disapproval of every noble in the hall, and he found himself the object of many critical stares. He smiled and selected another appetiser.
Tassin raised her voice to address the assembly. "My lords and ladies, Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin. Tonight I wish to announce that I am adopting into my family a brave young lady who risked her life to save mine. She has no parents, for they perished in the horrors that lie beyond the Death Zone. I am not old enough to be her mother, so I therefore declare her to be my sister, and not in contention for the throne. My sole heir remains my cousin until I bear a child of my own, in accordance with our laws of bloodline inheritance. Henceforth, she will be Princess Dena Alrade."
Stilted applause arose from the sour-faced nobles, and Sabre wondered how many arguments Tassin had had with her advisors and family before this compromise had been reached. He did not doubt that she had fought long and hard to give Dena the reward she had promised, and he was proud of her commitment and loyalty. Dena beamed at Tassin, her adoring eyes shimmering with tears. Sabre stood up, surprising everyone, who had only ever seen him eat, and raised the glass of wine he had acquired especially for the occasion.
"A toast!" he cried in ringing tones. "To Princess Dena!"
No one could refuse to toast the new princess, and they raised their glasses while Dena blushed and squirmed. Tassin shot Sabre a grateful smile as a servant appeared at her side bearing a velvet cushion. On it lay a silver circlet, which Tassin placed upon Dena's curls, settling it around her brow. Dena flung her arms around Tassin's neck and hugged her, dampening the Queen's royal blue outfit with tears of joy.
Sabre had no interest in the rest of the banquet, and when he had eaten his fill he slipped out. On the way to his room, he encountered Dena, accompanied by a lady-in-waiting, also heading for bed. Sabre bowed so deeply that his forehead almost touched his knees, and an ominous ripping sound told him that the fancy trousers he wore were not designed for such contortions. Recovering his aplomb, he fought the urge to discover how large the hole in his trousers was and straightened.
"Your Highness."
Dena raised her arms, and he picked her up. "Sabre."
He looked attentive. "Yes, Your Highness?"
"Wasn't it wonderful?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Did you enjoy yourself?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I'm a princess now."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Sabre?"
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"You ripped your trousers." She giggled, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Sabre!" Dena thumped his chest.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Stop that!"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Well?"
"Yes, Your Highness?"
Dena burst into giggles, and Sabre chuckled and hugged her. The lady-in-waiting looked confused. Dena leant back to study him, and her smile faded. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears.
"I don't want you to go!" She flung her arms around his neck and clung to him, weeping.
"Oh, brother," he muttered, and turned to the lady-in-waiting. "Excuse us."
Sabre carried Dena to his room, closed the door and sat down. Settling her on his knee, he pried her arms from his neck. "Tassin told you, I suppose?"
She nodded, hiccupping. "I didn't think you would really leave, when you told Tassin that you would on the cart. I thought you were just teasing. You'd be safe here. You don't have to go!"
"I do. I'm not safe anywhere."
Her face crumpled, and she wailed, "I want to come with you!"
"I wish you could, but it's impossible. I'm sorry."
"But I'll miss you! It's not fair!"
He stroked her hair. "I'll miss you too. Hey, do you want me to tell you a story?"
Dena's tears dried while Sabre made up a rather silly story about a princess and a king. She did not seem to notice the flaws in it, but gazed at him with sad eyes, and he wondered if she was even listening. Several times, she reached up to touch the brow band, running her fingers along the crystals in a forlorn manner that told him Tassin had explained it to her. His husky voice lulled her to sleep, and he held her for a while, studying her innocent features. Sadness filled his heart, as it always did when he contemplated his bleak future. He would never know the joy of the love of a wife and children, and he would have cherished them. All that lay ahead for him was a life of slavery and pain. His inner voice mocked him from the dark recesses of his mind, shouting bitter words at the irony of his futile dreams. Cyborg! He rose and carried Dena to her room.
As he wandered the dim corridors on his way back to his room, a shadowy figure stepped into his path. Sabre tensed, then relaxed as he recognised one of the ladies from the feast, Countess somebody-or-other. Her elaborately arranged blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, and violet eyes glowed in frames of thick dark lashes. He bowed and moved to circumnavigate her, but she laid a hand on his arm.
He raised his brows. "Countess?"
"I have been watching you all night, and I have heard some astounding tales about you. You must be a very brave, strong man, Sir Sabre." Her voice throbbed and her liquid eyes roamed over him in a way that made him want to squirm, although he did not really know why.
"I'm not a knight, and I just did what I had to."
The countess pouted and stepped closer, running her hand up his arm. "I want to hear more of your adventures. Perhaps you would care to join me in my suite? We could have wine."
Sabre cleared his throat, averted his eyes from her blatant stare and stepped back, only to encounter a wall. She moved closer, pressing herself to him now that he had no retreat, and started to unbutton his jacket. He buttoned it again as fast as she undid it, and she gave a husky giggle.
"Are you so bashful, Sir Sabre?"
"Countess, I -"
"He is not interested."
Sabre jumped as Tassin stepped from the shadows beyond the countess, who swung to face the Queen and curtsied. "Your Majesty."
Tassin walked closer, her cold eyes fixed on the blonde woman. "You may pack your things and leave, Countess Marrin, you are no longer welcome at Castle Alrade."
"But Your Majesty, I -"
"Now, Countess."
The woman picked up her skirts and fled, and Tassin turned to Sabre. "I apologise for her behaviour."
"It's not your fault."
"Most would have accepted her offer. Would you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I'm not interested."
"In anyone?" Her eyes roamed over his face as if seeking to read his mind. "There was a time when you were keen to bed the sluts in a tavern. Now you act like a monk."
"I was just... My tastes have changed."
"To what?"
"Celibacy. I'll bid you goodnight, Your Majesty." Stepping around her, he strode away down the corridor.
In his room, Sabre sat on the couch and stared at the wall, railing inwardly at the joke he called a life. He gripped the brow band, wishing he could tear it off. He was trapped. Condemned to be a cyber. The inner voice that so often mocked him awoke and shouted the insults he tried so hard to ignore. Cyborg! Killing machine! Freak! Fury swept through him in a wild, unbridled tide that craved release. He raised his fist and brought it down on the heavy wooden table with all his strength, smashing it to splinters with a terrific bang.
Sabre stared at the wreckage for a long time, then groaned and sat back. He could not stay at the castle. His whereabouts would not prevent the spacer from coming for him, and he did not want Tassin and Dena to see him turned back into a cyber. It would be distressing for them to witness his removal, and to listen to the spacer's assurances that he was just a machine; a piece of high-tech equipment that needed a little repair. How could Dena understand that? Rising, he went to the bed and flung himself down on it, buried his face in the pillow and wished he could escape reality as easily.
The following day, Sabre went for a wild ride through the woods, enjoying the rushing wind and thunder of hooves. When he turned the panting horse towards home, he was more relaxed, as if some of his troubles had been left behind. There was no escaping his fate, however. Stopping the horse, he sat and watched the tranquil woodland, enjoying the peace. Time. It was just a matter of time, but at least he had had these few months; a brief interlude of adventure, of life. His time was ticking away. Each day brought the end closer. Like a condemned man, he wondered how much time he had left, and how to make the most of it. With a sigh, he headed homewards.
As he approached the castle, a platoon of cavalry thundered over the drawbridge, pennants flying. The guard sergeant led them, and Sabre guided his mount to canter alongside him.
"What's happening?" he bellowed over the thunder of hooves.
"One o' them things got through the mountains again."
Sabre went with them down the winding road that led to the town. A broad swathe was torn through a field of wheat, heading for the village. In the pasture beyond, a shepherd's hut was flattened, and numerous dead sheep, gutted by sharp claws, dotted the grass. Sabre wondered why chaos beasts were so destructive, and what drove them to seek out towns and rampage through them. If the Core had merely maddened them, they would just as soon have ravaged a forest, but they did not.
In the town centre, a Death Zone monster attacked buildings and people. A throng of townsfolk armed with farming implements surrounded it, reminding Sabre of the people he had saved in the Zone. They cheered when the soldiers arrived, and some retreated while others continued to harry the horse-sized creature, which resembled a bear. Long tusks jutted from its jaws, and twelve-centimetre claws tore the ground. A ridge of bone blades rose from its spine, and a long, spike-tipped tail lashed behind it. Blood streaked its short, dapple-grey, moss-like fur where the townsfolk had stabbed it with pitch forks and crude spears, and it left a crimson trail. Its Roman-nosed head swung from side to side as it roared its fury and pain, glaring at its assailants with tortured brown eyes.
Sabre empathised with the animal's suffering. It had been torn from its home and mutated into a monster, and now knew only hatred and pain. Once it had been a predator on some alien world, hunting to feed itself and its offspring, no more dangerous than the shy cats that inhabited the forests of Arlin. Jerking the guard sergeant's sword from its scabbard, he vaulted from his shying horse and ran at the creature's exposed flank. The men distracted the animal, and he thrust the sword between its ribs, hoping its heart was in the usual place. It swung, snapping jaws that no longer closed properly, its exposed, over-large teeth dripping saliva. It stumbled and collapsed, its growls becoming whimpers as its life ebbed away. He ignored the soldiers' congratulations, his heart heavy.
The creature's ribs showed through its silken fur, and desert sand clogged its eyes. Deep gashes marred its grey hide, scabbed with dried blood and sand, where it had fought, or maybe tried to ease an itch, not knowing that its claws were now too long and sharp to avail it that simple pleasure. It was starving, unable to eat with the huge fangs that jutted from its jaws. There was no triumph in slaying it, only relief that its misery was ended with a quick, humane stroke. Like him, the chaos beasts had been made into monsters and sent out to savage and kill, driven by pain and hunger. He turned from the jubilant townsfolk and remounted his horse, riding back to the castle without a backward glance.
Sabre sat with his back against the sloping trunk of a dead beech tree that had fallen against its neighbour, a sturdy oak, in some long-forgotten storm. A doe browsed a few metres away in the glade that the beech tree's death had made, nibbling tender shoots. Her fawn gambolled around her, comical on stilt-like legs that still defied its control. The deer, like the beech and oak trees that made up this forest, had been introduced by the settlers centuries ago. He contemplated their folly in changing this alien world into another Earth, ridding it of the indigenous creatures that had once dwelt here. As usual, he did so to distract himself from the gloomy thoughts about his current situation and its inevitable end.
For four days, he had avoided Dena and Tassin, unwilling to face Dena's unhappy, accusing looks or Tassin's ill-concealed misery. Dena hunted him, and he had sought refuge first in the stables, then in the forest. It would be far better, he had decided, for them to get used to his absence before he left. Then the pain of parting would be less, and they would make new friends amongst the castle's populace. The girls had come to regard him as their protector and provider, but they would have to get used to relying on others now, or themselves. In a way, he wished he did not have to wait for the final confrontation with Torrian. Now that lasers protected the castle, Torrian had no hope of taking it. Uneasiness made him wait, however. He wanted to be quite sure Torrian was out of the picture before he left.
Sabre sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the warm bark while he listened to the carolling of woodland birds. His horse stamped and snorted where it stood hitched to a tree nearby. He allowed the tranquillity to engulf him, tuning his acute hearing to the distant sound of a woodpecker, the ticking of a leaf twisting in the breeze, and the faint calls of ravens circling high above.
The cyber's warning red flash caught his attention, and he glanced at its information. The scanners showed the light points of many men in tight companies, some mounted, others on foot, moving towards the castle, which was just within range. The cyber provided additional information in the form of suspected battle plans based on the troops' positions, and marked weak areas of the castle's defences in yellow. It laid out a wealth of useful information in his mind's eye, based on its peerless knowledge of warfare and strategy.
This was no honour guard. From the troops' encirclement of the castle, it could only be an attacking army, undoubtedly Torrian's. Sabre opened his eyes. It seemed the King had no interest in parley, and was going to try to capture Tassin again. Leaping up, Sabre ran to his horse and sprang into the saddle as the doe and her fawn bounded into the trees. Spurring the gelding into a gallop, he raced back to the castle, shouting a warning to the gate guards as he clattered over the drawbridge.
Leaping from his mount as it propped to a halt, he ran to the store room under the eastern wall and collected an armload of power packs. He sprinted up to the battlements and yanked the cover off a laser, loading it. Soldiers flooded into the courtyard below as the alarm spread, running to the armoury to collect their weapons. Officers shouted orders at the scurrying men, who buckled on their armour and adjusted their scabbards while they filed onto the battlements to take up their positions.
Sabre had loaded three lasers by the time the Queen entered the courtyard, undoubtedly summoned by a messenger with the news of the attack. Niam and several lords accompanied her, and they dispersed to supervise various aspects of the castle's defence while the guard sergeant, Arwolf, answered her questions. Sabre glanced down as Arwolf pointed at him, and Tassin trotted up the steps to the battlements, where he pushed power packs into a laser. The cannons held three packs each, and reloaded automatically. He hoped he would not need them all.
Tassin stopped beside him. "Is it Torrian?"
Sabre shrugged. "Torrian, Grisson, Bardok or all three. I didn't stop to ask. It's big though, for this planet. About two thousand men, maybe more out of scanner range."
Tassin frowned. "So, he has not given up."
"I think it was meant to be a surprise attack, to catch you with your pants down." At her shocked look, he amended, "Well, your drawbridge, at any rate."
"I will tell them to raise it."
"I already did."
She looked at the gate. "Then why is it still down?"
Sabre followed her gaze, spotting a sentry's sprawled body beside the portcullis. "Traitors!"
Tassin headed for the stairs, murder in her eyes, but he caught her arm. "You stay out of it!"
Sabre ran down to the gate, and as he reached it a man leapt from the shadows, his sword whistling towards Sabre's neck. He stepped aside and spun, landing a back-handed blow on the man's head. The soldier collapsed, dead before he hit the ground. The cyber flashed a warning, and Sabre turned as two more men attacked from behind. Ducking a sword that swished over his head, he punched one man in the chest, crushing his ribs with a dull crunch. Tassin shouted from the battlements, and soldiers rushed into the fray, cutting down the traitors. Sabre took hold of the heavy wheel as the thunder of galloping hooves became audible beyond the walls. Several men joined him, and the drawbridge rose.
The sizzling crack of a high-powered laser ripped the air, mingled with the soft thud of a grenade launcher as both weapons fired together. A blazing bolt of blue light hit the turf in front of the charging cavalry, but a laser was useless as a deterrent, its effect on soil being an unspectacular line of molten earth. The grenade, however, exploded with a thunderous boom, and horses screamed and bucked as clods of soil rained down on them from the smoking crater in their path. Riders fell, but the charge continued, carried by its momentum. The drawbridge creaked upwards with frustrating slowness, but already it was too high off the ground to be used as an entry.
Leaving the soldiers to complete the task, Sabre raced back up to the battlements, where his trainees crouched behind the lasers. Three fired at once, and dozens of horses and riders died. The launcher fired again, rather belatedly, the shell exploding amongst the retreating cavalry.
Sabre shouted, "Hold your fire!"
Many of the men shot him sheepish, triumphant grins, and he watched the enemy troops disappear back into the forest.
Turning to find Tassin at his side, he said, "You should parley now, while we have the upper hand. I doubt those soldiers will be keen to face our firepower again."
She nodded, staring at the glint of metal still visible amongst the trees that marked the enemy army's position. "If we did not have the lasers, I would be right back where I started."
Niam joined them, shooting Sabre a hard look. "I do not like those evil weapons, Tassin."
"Would you rather that beast dragged her off?" Sabre demanded.
The duke turned to him, his florid face purpling. "You stay out of this! You have caused enough trouble! If not for you, she would be happily married to Torrian by now."
"Married, yes, happily, definitely not. Don't your niece's feelings count at all?"
The duke's eyes bulged. "How dare you speak to me like that? You... you nobody!"
"Be quiet!" Tassin commanded. "Sabre is doing this for me, because this is what I want. If you do not like it, you are free to leave!"
The Queen's vehement support surprised Sabre, and Niam accorded her a jerky bow before stomping away. Sabre stared at the duke's broad back, wondering if he had been behind the gate guards' betrayal. It seemed a logical deduction, since they were his troops. He swung back to the battlements as a party of riders emerged from the forest, armed with a white flag.
Tassin regarded the approaching group with deep suspicion. "I wonder what he has up his sleeve now."
The Queen descended to the courtyard and headed for a doorway. Sabre followed her along a short corridor that ended in a pair of huge, gold-embossed doors. Two guards pulled them open, and she swept into a lavishly decorated throne room. Sabre raked it with a glance, noting every detail. The Alrade kingdom's greatest treasures resided in it; spoils of war and symbols of pride her family had collected over the centuries.
Fine tapestries depicting battle scenes and woodland vistas covered the walls, and rich carpets clothed the floor with finely woven artistry. Carved chests and copper-inlaid shelves held an array of silver and gold chalices, platters, plaques and memorabilia that winked with precious stones. Suits of silver and gold armour stood sentinel beside the walls. Shields, swords, spears, pennants, crests and coats-of-arms adorned the walls between the tapestries, and more hung from the black beams.
Sabre stopped just inside the door and stepped into the shadow of the thick red velvet curtains that framed it. Loitering nobles, who must have heard of Torrian's arrival and foreseen the upcoming audience, bowed as the Queen passed.
Tassin marched to the carved gilt throne studded with precious stones that stood upon a low dais at the far end of the room. As she sank onto it, the three servants who waited there stepped forward. One placed a sceptre in her hand, and another settled her crown upon her shining raven hair. The third servant approached as the first two stepped back and draped a short cloak of dark blue velvet edged with white fur over her shoulders. Tassin shifted and fidgeted, looking impatient and nervous. She waved away the two ladies-in-waiting who crept closer to offer her a cup of wine.
The rest of the courtiers sidled in while she was being outfitted with the symbols of her office, shuffling into position around the room. The duke and his family took up their rightful station on her left, and a flushed, bright-eyed Dena, resplendent in her silver circlet, hurried in to stand on Tassin's right. Sabre watched it all with jaundiced eyes, amused by the pomp and ceremony. In a matter of minutes the room was transformed into a fully-fledged court, the Queen presiding. As the courtiers stopped jostling for position around the walls, twenty stern-faced guards entered and took up posts in front of them, grounding their spears.
A herald announced King Torrian's arrival in a high nasal voice, and the dusty, dishevelled King stalked in. A black, crimson-edged cloak hung from his shoulders and silver armour clad his torso. Golden lions emblazoned the sleeves of the scarlet surcoat he wore under it, and his black trousers were tucked into suede calf boots. The long sword at his hip jingled as he walked, and the musky stench of stale sweat followed him in. Sabre thought he would march up to the Queen and try to wring her neck, so thunderous was his expression, but he stopped before the throne and nodded, barely polite.
"Tassin." Torrian's angry voice boomed around the room. "This is intolerable! You cannot refuse to marry all three of the kings of this land. You know the law. You must take a husband of noble blood, and I am within my rights to demand your hand. Now you turn diabolical magic upon my troops. You go too far! You cannot flout the laws of this land, drawn up centuries ago by our forebears."
Tassin glared at him. "I will do as I please, and now you cannot force me. I will choose a husband in good time, but I will not have him foisted upon me."
Torrian dug in his belt pouch and drew out a yellowed parchment scroll. "Let me refresh your memory." Ignoring the Queen's impatient snort, he unrolled the scroll. "So that there may be peace ever more in the kingdoms of Arlin, Prane, Mandor, Olgara and Pradish, this is the law:
"The eldest legitimate issue of each ruling king shall inherit his kingdom. If the eldest issue is female, she shall be required to marry a nobleman. Any unrelated and unwed king or prince may bid for her hand, either by courtship, capture, or single combat of champions."
Tassin's nostrils flared. "I am aware of the law. As yet you have failed to capture me, and, as long as those weapons are upon my battlements, you cannot. There is nothing in the law that states that I may not use whatever means available to defend myself."
Torrian rolled up the parchment. "Then, since you cannot be captured, I challenge you to a testing of champions, to the death."
"No! I will have no more bloodshed! You are beaten. I refuse the challenge."
"You cannot refuse. It is the law. If you do not select a champion, the high court will declare you my prize, and your own men will bring you to me. No one flouts the law."
Sabre's heart twisted at the despair in her eyes as she scanned the ranks of nobles in search of him. Just when he thought he had solved all her problems by making her castle impregnable, Torrian came up with a new angle. He cursed and stepped out of the shadows. Tassin beckoned to a herald, murmuring to him. The boy hurried down the broad aisle to the door where Sabre stood and bowed to him.
"The Queen requests your presence."
Sabre approached the throne, aware that all eyes were upon him. Torrian stared at the brow band when Sabre stopped beside him. The King towered over him, and looked like he enjoyed that fact.
"I thought you were dead."
Sabre forced a tight, cold smile. "Had you known I was alive, you wouldn't be doing this, would you? Who do think armed the castle?"
Torrian nodded. "I should have guessed, but I would still be doing this. You see, I have found a fighter who can beat you, to be certain of my victory."
"Indeed? Not yourself, of course."
Torrian flushed an ugly red. "By law, I must appoint a champion."
"Good for you."
"Sabre." Tassin's soft call made him turn.
"Your Majesty."
The Queen looked uncertain and sorrowful. "I do not have the right to ask another favour after all you have done. Yet it seems I must. If you choose not to fight I will understand. But in all my kingdom, and I think all the world and even the heavens above, there is no better warrior than you. If you defeat his champion I shall be safe, for my castle is now too well defended for him to return and steal me from my bed. I ask you... to be my champion."
Torrian glowered at Tassin, and the uncertainty in her eyes made him wonder if she was really silly enough to imagine he would say no. After all he had already done for her, she surely could not think he would abandon her now. He approached the throne and sank to one knee, taking the hand she held out.
"I'll gladly lay down my life for you, Tassin, worthless as it is."
A collective indrawn breath rustled around the room at his use of her name. Her grip tightened, forbidding him to rise, and he met her gaze.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Two tears escaped down her cheeks, and he lowered his eyes. "I live only to serve you, My Queen."
The tinge of bitterness in his tone evidently did not escape her, even though he had tried to hide it, for she leant forward. "No. You are free to choose."
He nodded. "I have chosen."
Tassin released his hand, and he rose and swung away to stride out under the courtiers' stares and Torrian's murderous glare. He marched along the echoing corridors to his suite, where servants awaited him with another suit of foppish finery. Sabre eyed the silken tights and brocaded, pearl-studded jacket with a frown.
"You have got to be kidding. Bring me my old clothes."
The two men looked aghast until he repeated the order, then one hurried out while the other primly folded the vainglorious garments. The servant returned a few minutes later, holding Sabre's ragged trousers and harness as if they gave off an offensive smell. Although clean and pressed, the trousers were well worn, roughly darned in places, and generally disreputable. He did not care; he needed the stretch fabric for a fight. The velvet trousers he wore would split at the first kick, and the silken tights were even worse. The servants tried to help him disrobe, and he ordered them out when he found four hands too many fumbling at his jacket's tiny buttons.
As he donned his standard issue cyber clothes, painful memories rushed back. He recalled stepping out of the casket racked with agony, his unfocussed eyes brushing the countenance of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. At the time, he had thought he would never be able to speak to her, or even see her clearly. Soon, he would be returned to that half-life. In all likelihood, he would not need the stretch properties of his old combat clothes, since he was pitted against just one man. It was only a precaution.
Sabre walked to the courtyard, more comfortable in his old clothes despite the memories that came with them. Nobles and courtiers crammed the edges of the yard and soldiers lined the battlements. Servants pushed and shoved for a better view in doorways and windows. Tassin sat in an upholstered chair next to the wall, well out of harm's way. Torrian waited nearby, looking disgruntled. Dena clutched the back of Tassin's chair, her eyes wide and fearful. Sabre winked at her, wishing she did not have to watch him kill a man. All eyes followed him to the centre of the courtyard, where a rough circle had been chalked on the stone.
Torrian gestured, and a man entered the arena from the direction of the gate. Sabre eyed the short, wiry newcomer, who walked with a confident swagger. His slanted eyes and straight black hair told Sabre that he was descended from Oriental stock. Torrian probably thought he could beat Sabre because he had impressed the King with a demonstration of martial arts. Sabre wanted to laugh. Had either of them known what a cyber was capable of, they would never have considered challenging him. It was a joke. The Oriental had no hope against a cyber but, unfortunately for him, he did not know it. From the confident way Torrian had spoken, anyone would have thought he had found another cyber. Then again, only Tassin knew the truth about what Sabre was.
He turned to the King. "I can kill this man in a few seconds with both hands and one leg tied behind my back. Withdraw your challenge and let him live."
Torrian sneered, "Trying to chicken out?"
"Trying to save his life. At least let it be until one wins, not to the death."
Torrian spat. "To the death. He is a match for you."
"No, he isn't. If I knock him unconscious, the fight's over."
"If you manage to do that, he will be revived, and you will fight until one of you is dead. But I assure you, it is you who will die today."
Sabre glared at him. "I wish it was you who challenged me. I think I'd enjoy killing you."
Torrian snorted and turned to Tassin. "Choose the weapons, Queen Tassin, as is your right."
She said, "I choose unarmed combat."
Torrian's champion looked a little disappointed, but shrugged and swaggered into the circle. He bowed to Sabre, who returned it. As he straightened, Sabre said, "Withdraw now and live."
The Oriental smiled. "You don't scare me."
Sabre sighed. If only he knew how scared he should be. It was no holds barred this time, against one opponent. He decided to end it as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Torrian boomed, "Let the fight begin!"
The Oriental dropped into a crouch, on the balls of his feet, arms out, hands tense. His fighting style was outdated, effective in its time, but old. Sabre waited, arms at his sides, for his opponent to make the first move. The Oriental did so confidently, leaping forward to aim a straight-armed jab at Sabre's throat. He swayed out of the way, not bothering to retaliate. The Oriental smiled, then spun and leapt high, lashing out with a foot. Sabre avoided it easily, his reflexes honed by years of painful training.
Torrian's champion grinned, brimming with confidence, and made the fatal mistake Sabre had been waiting for. He stepped closer, looking for the best target to land his killing blow, since Sabre had made no effort to defend himself. Sabre waited until he was about to strike, his arm drawn back, his head within range. The cyber's fist shot out and struck the man on the side of his head with a dull crunch. The Oriental's lifeless body flew two metres and sprawled on the stones, blood seeping from his shattered skull where Sabre's fist had torn the skin.
The spectators gaped at the corpse, and some turned away, clearly sickened. Sabre rubbed a little blood and hair off his knuckles and walked over to glare at the King with deep loathing.
"I hope you've exhausted all your options now, because if you bother Queen Tassin again, I'll kill you. Also, you can tell Grisson and Bardok not to bother challenging, because any who do will face me. I offered to save his life, but you don't care about that. Lives are cheap to you. If you're planning to challenge again, you can search the length and breadth of this world, but you won't find a man who can beat me."
Sabre wanted more than anything to rid the world of this monster. Torrian stood his ground, grim-faced. A touch on Sabre's arm made him look around to find Tassin at his side, her eyes on Torrian, filled with contempt.
"You have lost, Torrian. By law, you must withdraw your suit, and you have no more business in my castle, or on my land. From this day forth you are not welcome here and, should you set foot in Arlin again, you will be evicted with maximum force. Having been so warned you have no recourse for complaint should this come to pass. Now get out."
Torrian's eyes glittered. "Since you reject the suit of all the kings of this land, you will marry no one. Victor will never wed you; I shall see to it. You will die a lonely woman with no children to carry on your line, and your father's blood will die with you. You will rue this day for the rest of your life."
Torrian spun on his heel and headed for the gate, where his soldiers waited with horses. Sabre watched until they had clattered over the drawbridge before turning to Tassin.
"Can he do that?"
She nodded. "Oh yes, he can, and he will. But I do not care. I know what I will do. It will be a simple matter to make you a nobleman and give you lands, then -"
"No."
"But -"
"I'm leaving."
She grabbed his hand. "No! You must stay! I can stop Manutim."
He looked away, unable to meet her pleading eyes. "You can't. I wish you could. I don't want you to see me taken. Spare me that, please. I'm not..." He hesitated, frowning. "I'm a freak; a weapon; a cyborg. You saw what I just did. That's all I'm good for. It's all I know, and I hate it. I hate myself. Don't you understand? Forget me."
"No, you are not! I will not let you go." Her voice was low and fierce. "I will throw you in the dungeon if I must."
He smiled. "You have your kingdom back, and your castle's safe from attack. You don't need me anymore." He disengaged her hands, holding her wrists. "Let me go."
"No! Please, not yet, not now! Just stay a little longer."
He bowed his head. "All right. Just to celebrate your victory."
"Thank you."
Sabre swung away as Tassin heaved a great sigh, her face radiant with joy, even if it was only a temporary reprieve.
The feast that night was a grand affair. Tassin insisted that Sabre sit on her left, ousting Niam. The black suit Sabre wore had silver trim around the collar and cuffs, and was a little too tight for his liking. He found the ceremony boring, the toasts tedious, and the jesters dull. The food was good, however. Since he sat next to the Queen, he could not sneak out when he had eaten his fill. After the meal, a group of minstrels struck up a gay tune, and guests twirled and minced around the great hall. Sabre ignored pointed looks from Tassin until she sighed and rose to her feet.
"Since you will not ask me, I insist that you dance with me."
He shook his head. "I don't know how."
"Then I shall teach you."
"Tassin..."
The Queen tugged him to his feet and led him onto the dance floor, laughing at his feeble attempts to fight her off, her eyes bright. She had polished off a few glasses of wine, and her mood was merry. Sabre was stone cold sober as usual, something he regretted when they took to the floor. Tassin stepped close and guided one of his hands to the small of her back, raising his other arm so she could rest her hand on his. The other dancers gave way, and soon they were alone.
He bent and murmured in her ear, "Don't blame me if I step on your toes."
She grinned. "I will not."
Despite his assertions, he followed her steps easily. Even when he made a mistake, his excellent balance enabled him to correct it without anyone noticing.
Tassin's steps faltered several times, her knees rubbery in his proximity, but his steely strength supported her. As they glided around the dance floor, she contemplated her heartfelt wish to have him at her side always, as her husband. The impossibility of her dream did not penetrate the haze of wine and music, and for the moment she was happy. The dance ended far too soon, and when the music stopped he bowed and led her from the floor, foiling her wish to continue.
For the next two days, Tassin dogged his steps. She found him in the rose garden, the morning room and even the barracks. The pile of papers that required her signature grew, but she spent only an hour each day attending to affairs of state. When her people heard of her return, supplicants arrived in droves to put their cases before her, and messages and written requests flooded in. She let them wait, waving her advisors away when they approached her. She spent all her time with Sabre, ate every meal with him, strolled with him in the gardens, rode in the woods and played the lute for him in the sun room.
Sabre made several attempts to escape to the solitude of the forest, but by the time his horse was saddled Tassin appeared in her riding clothes to accompany him. He sank deeper into an emotional morass, unwilling to extricate himself, yet knowing he must. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to stay with her, and it made leaving that little bit more difficult each time. Every day, he promised himself that he would leave that night, but the longing to see her again made him stay, just for one more day...
On the third day, he gave her the slip and found solitude in the rose garden. The winter chill was setting in, but a high stone wall and barrier of tall trees protected the garden from cold winds. Pale sunlight warmed the sheltered garden, whose pruned plants and sculpted hedges encompassed an isolated world of lawn and brick pathways.
Sabre sat on a marble bench, watching the sparkling fall of the fountain, when Tassin found him. She bore down on him with a determined, if somewhat timid air. He groaned inwardly even as his heart warmed at the sight of her. Being in her company was sweet torture, and he was not sure how much more of it he could stand. She looked lovely in a silk dress of buttercup yellow, her shining hair arranged in coils and curls around her face. She settled beside him, arranging her skirts.
"So, I found you."
"Yeah, you did, didn't you?" He smiled wryly.
"I always do."
"Yup." He gazed across the garden, trying to ignore her intent stare.
"Sabre..."
"Hmmm?"
She turned to him, her face a study of determination. "I know you will never broach this subject, so I suppose I shall have to."
He closed his eyes. "No. Don't."
"I..." She hesitated, blinking. "I must. My happiness depends upon it."
He bowed his head, shaking it. "Don't. Please."
"I want us to be married." The words came out in a rush, and she gasped as if she could not believe she had spoken them.
Sabre jumped up and swung away, his hands clenched. His heart seemed to have become far heavier than it had ever been before, and a strange ache filled it. While similar to the way it ached whenever he was in her company, this time it hurt in a far more profound manner. He did not think anything could ease it, except if he could stay with her in Arlin. That was impossible, however, not only because of his owner. The venomous voice in his mind bellowed its vitriol and mockery. Cyborg! Killing machine! His throat closed and his eyes stung. He turned away, unable to meet her hopeful gaze.
"No."
Tassin rose and walked around him to gaze at his averted face. "I do not believe Manutim is coming back. It has been almost a year."
He flinched at the hope and entreaty in her eyes. "He will."
"Then we will fight him. We have lasers now."
"No."
Her tears overflowed. "Please. I beg you. Do not leave me. I could not bear it..." Her voice grew strangled, and she stifled a sob, her breath catching.
Sabre shook his head. "Don't do this to me. You have got to accept this. I wish..." He stared across the garden. "I wish... I could. But it's impossible."
"No! We have already done so much. We can do this too!"
A wave of anger washed over him. "God, we've been through this a hundred times already! It's not going to happen!" He gripped her arms and pulled her closer. "Stop being a little idiot! Stop torturing me with these stupid, hopeless dreams! Get it through your head! I'm not going to tell you again. I'm not human! I'm a cyborg! A killing machine! I belong to the man who loaned me to you." He thrust her away and strode off, ignoring her despairing calls.
Tassin raised a hand to her mouth, her heart a lump of pain. She had hoped her proposal would bring him joy and tell him of her feelings, which she could not yet speak about, for she longed for him to admit his love for her first. She knew now that she loved him with all her heart, and the thought of losing him brought exquisite pain. His rejection cut her to the core, wounding the fragile, budding feelings she bore for him.
Surely he should want to fight to stay with her, and be free, if he felt something for her too? Gathering up her skirts, she ran after him, brushing aside the ladies-in-waiting who had come in search of her. He had vanished, however, and she retreated to her room to nurse her wounded heart, dispatching servants to find him. She had to talk to him, to heal the rift, but also to ensure that he did not slip away forever.
Sabre eluded Tassin for the rest of the day, finding a peaceful eerie atop the castle's highest battlements, where he watched the servants hunting for him below. He stayed there until long after dusk, when the search was abandoned and most of the servants retired. Then he returned to his room and dressed in his old clothes, taking a warm jacket to ward off the winter chill.
On silent feet, he traversed the hallway to Dena's room. He bent over the sleeping child, kissed her brow and whispered a sad farewell. Going to Tassin's rooms, he stood for some time in the darkness outside her doors, where two yawning guards leant on their spears. He longed to see her one more time and say goodbye while she slept, but that would be risky. Making his way to a side door that led into the courtyard, he slipped through the gates and loped into the forest.
Tassin stared blindly at the maps spread on the table, a flickering oil lamp throwing leaping light across them. Her eyes drooped with fatigue and her bones ached from weeks of hard travel. She had lost track of how long she had been searching for Sabre. It seemed like an eternity. Rain lashed the tent and freezing wind crept in through every chink in the heavy leather. She shivered and pulled her thick fur coat closer, blinking tears from her gritty eyes. When she had found that Sabre had left during the night after the fateful encounter, she had been frantic.
On that day, she had started the largest manhunt in Arlin's history. She had dispatched her soldiers in squads of ten and ordered her lords and knights to send out their men. The huge reward she had offered for any information as to Sabre's whereabouts had drawn commoners and mercenaries into the hunt, and Tassin led a squad of twenty men. She dressed in sturdy black trousers and studded leather armour, a slender sword at her side. Her advisors' disapproval had fallen on deaf ears, and she had denied Dena's clamouring to join the search.
Tassin had become more despondent with each empty, fruitless day. Her heart had grown heavy with desolation and her temper was short. Only when she was alone did she vent her misery in hopeless tears that brought no comfort.
Sabre had vanished.
Three weeks ago, her squad had skirted close to the mountains, and she had detoured to collect her war stallion. The mare with him had a grey colt at foot, and finding them had brought a little joy to lighten her load of misery. She had returned to the heart of her land, ignoring her general's pleas to end the search. Her men were tired and cold, as was she, entering her tent each night exhausted and saddle sore.
The maps blurred as fresh tears flooded her eyes, and she rubbed them away, a lump blocking her throat. She would never stop searching for him. She would find him or die trying. A warrior queen never gave up. A wry smile tugged at her lips as she recalled his teasing mockery of her grand assertion. His smiling image filled her mind, and she covered her face and wept.
Sabre sat in an abandoned cabin, warming his hands on the fire he had kindled with damp wood. Odd jobs on remote farms had earned him a little food, but he had lost weight, and sorrow haunted him. He made the most of his empty days, enjoying the simple pleasures of a normal life for as long as it lasted. He sensed his time ticking away like a malignant, unstoppable clock. His heart ached with loneliness, and he filled his dwindling time with memories of Tassin, fighting the overwhelming urge to spend his remaining days or weeks with her.
His attempts to find the locator hidden somewhere in his body had proven futile, and his last hope of avoiding his fate had died with that failure. The cyber's anatomical analysis did not reveal its site, nor did the memories he had sifted through. Outside, the grim land froze under a bitter grey sky, reflecting his mood, and what was happening to his heart. The first snows had yet to fall, but the trees were bare and the woodland silent, awaiting winter's icy grip.
A soft green light that he had not seen before awoke in his mind's dim recess. He closed his eyes to study its benign glow, and scanned the black field that held the cyber's information. The three inconspicuous words were not intended for his attention.
'Locator beacon activated'.
Sabre's chest tightened, stopping his breath, and he bowed his head. This was it then. This was the end.
Tassin sensed a presence above her and looked up. Her soldiers searched a belt of woodland for what seemed like the tenth time. The afternoon sun slanted through the trees in golden beams, gilding the clouds of steam that weary horses and men breathed. Her mouth swung open in astonishment as a silver ship passed overhead in utter silence. Lights twinkled around the ovoid craft's perimeter, and sunlight gleamed on polished metal. Her heart flip-flopped and grew leaden.
Turning to the general beside her, she yelled, "Follow me!"
Tassin kicked Falcon into a gallop in the direction the ship had taken, for its speed had already left her far behind. The stallion thundered through the woods, clods of earth flying up behind him. Trunks whipped past and branches lashed her. The soldiers raced in pursuit, spurring their mounts to keep up with the warhorse. The ship had vanished, but she kept going in a straight line, hoping it would bring her to it, and Sabre.
The woodland passed in a blur. Falcon splashed through streams and thundered up and down hills and vales. She ignored the worried shouts from her men and leant low over his neck, trying to avoid the lashing branches while urging the stallion to greater speed. He responded gamely, racing over the fallen leaves, sweat streaking his neck and flanks. As they hurdled moss-covered logs, she prayed that she would reach Sabre in time. How long would it take Manutim to subdue him? Would he go willingly or attempt to evade capture? She must not be too late.
Sabre stood up and went to open the cabin door. An unarmed merchant vessel floated down in the meadow several hundred metres away, swaying on its antigravity. The cyber's scrolling information informed him that it was a J-Class Durapod, a small, fast shuttle smugglers often used to sneak into restricted airspace and evade guardian patrols. The interstellar ship it came from would be in orbit. Landing legs unfolded, skids flipping open when they touched the ground, and the craft settled onto them.
The freezing wind tugged at him when he stepped out into it. Grey clouds blotted out the last of the sunset's fading radiance, plunging the world into twilight. He shed his jacket, dropping it as he walked towards the ship. The cyber automatically boosted his metabolism, and warmth suffused him. Flight was futile. The spacer would hunt him down with the override. A door slid open in the ship's flank and a ramp extended to the ground. Three men descended it, two of them armed with lasers.
Tassin burst into a rolling meadow. The flying vessel sat upon the frosty ground like a giant silver egg, and Sabre walked towards it from a shabby cabin on the far side of the field. Three men stood next to the craft, two dressed in silver uniforms, the third clad in a hooded white suit with a silver belt. Although the clothes were not his usual wizard's robe, she was sure the man in white was Manutim. The trio turned to face her as she galloped up, and Tassin brought Falcon to a sliding, propping halt close to Manutim, who pulled his hood lower. Steam jetted from the stallion's nostrils and billowed up from his heaving flanks.
Manutim bowed. "Your Majesty. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"You will not take him, Manutim."
He hesitated, evidently disconcerted by her outburst and its content. "I'm afraid I must. He belongs to me."
"No! He wishes to stay with me."
"He is just a weapon, Majesty, he has no wishes."
"The thing on his head is broken. He's a free man."
"Impossible. Cyber hosts are just biological tools, incapable of independent thought. Without the controller -"
"He's not the same as he was when he arrived. He is no longer controlled by the machine."
Manutim glanced at the approaching cyber. "If that's true, Myon Two will be very interested in studying him." He turned to his men. "Bring the override."
As one man trotted into the ship, Tassin said, "Please, let him stay with me."
"I'm sorry, I can't allow that."
"I need him. You cannot take him!"
She hoped Sabre was still out of earshot. The warrior hurried back to Manutim and handed him a black instrument.
She leant closer. "I care for him."
He shot her a sideways glance. "That is unfortunate."
Manutim's unfeeling attitude angered her. He no longer affected a respectful manner, as if he had forgotten who she was and that he wanted to be her friend, whatever his reasons for that were. The matter at hand, however, was too pressing for her to be distracted by his change in demeanour.
"I will fight you, if that's what it takes."
Manutim looked up in surprise, allowing her a glimpse of a sallow, bearded face before he lowered his head again. Tassin eyed the shaven, tattooed warriors at his side. They held their weapons loosely, their gaunt, sharp-featured faces expressionless. Her men emerged from the woods and stopped behind her on lathered, blowing mounts to gape at the strange vehicle. The huge, glossy warhorses, caparisoned in black and silver livery, snorted clouds of steam and cavorted. Flowing manes streamed from the destriers' arched necks, and their tails flew like banners. Finely crafted silver face guards and breast plates, decorated with gold designs, protected them. The chargers reared with soft squeals, pawing the ground as they sensed their riders' tension. The soldiers, clad in the gold-edged black livery and silver armour of the Alrade Kings, controlled the mettlesome animals with skilful ease.
Sabre was still some distance away, and Tassin cantered over to him, her men following. He gripped her stirrup when she stopped beside him.
"Don't do this," he said. "You can't win."
She snorted. "There are three of them and twenty of us."
"They have lasers."
"So do we, at the castle. If only you had stayed..."
"You don't understand." He shook his head. "How could you? Sure, I could have killed him with the lasers, but Myon Two checks the location of all cybers annually. We're fitted with locator beacons, like any piece of expensive equipment, so I can't hide, and no, I can't find it or deactivate it. I tried. If they find me on a restricted world, and are unable to contact my owner, they'll send enforcers to bring me back. They'll use cybers, who will kill anyone who gets in their way, and I won't be able to stop them. This way, there won't be any bloodshed. I won't put you in danger."
"I will not let him take you away!"
"You can't stop him, any more than I can."
Despair clogged her throat when she met his bleak gaze. She knew he was probably right; he usually was, but she could not give up without a fight. Time seemed to stand still as the chill air nipped her skin and steam rose between them.
"We shall see," she murmured.
"No, Tassin..."
The Queen drew her sword and raised it, turning to her soldiers. They unsheathed their weapons with a slither of steel that would have struck fear into the bravest heart. A strong arm clamped around her waist and dragged her off the stallion. Sabre dumped her on her back on the ground, hard enough to make her gasp in shock. He wrenched the sword from her fist and flung it away, then loomed over her, his brows knotted.
"You listen to me, you pea-brained idiot. He will kill you! Do you hear me? He will kill you! He can't let me stay here, even if he wanted to, which he doesn't! If I can't stop him, what the hell do you think you can do, even with twenty men?"
She gaped at him, stunned by his intensity, and he bowed his head. His arms bracketed her head, his hands resting on the ground, and she knew any attempt to escape would be futile. His voice dropped to a broken whisper.
"I'm sorry. Do you think I want to go with him? Really? Don't you think I'd fight him if I could?"
"Then why -?"
"He has an override. My override, coded to my control unit. It doesn't matter what you do, or how many of your men you get killed, all he has to do is push a button and I fall unconscious, understand? He controls me... utterly."
She frowned. "Well my men don't have control units --"
"Tassin, don't argue with me. Not now." He glanced in the direction of the spaceship. "We don't have much time. Please, you have to let me go. I'm begging you, don't do anything."
"How can I?"
"Because I asked you to! Begged you! I don't want you to get hurt, and if you try this, you will. It's not worth it. I'm not worth it. I'm just a broken cyborg."
"You are not a -"
He gave an inarticulate growl and pulled her into his arms, making her squeak in surprise. Tassin clung to him, marvelling that he had chosen this moment, when all was apparently lost, to finally display the feelings she had suspected him of having for so long.
"Hey!" Manutim's shout rang across the meadow, and she knew their time was running out.
"Promise me," Sabre whispered into her hair. "Promise me you'll let me go. Please, Tassin."
She gulped, her heart torn between an immense urge to save him somehow, and an almost equally strong certainty that he was right, and nothing she could do would stop Manutim taking him away. Sabre tightened his hold until she squeaked again.
"Promise me!"
"All right! But -"
"No 'buts'. No arguments. Not now." He held her away and stroked the hair from her brow. "Let me remember you smiling, not angry and frowning, okay?"
She gulped, her throat closing. "I just don't know how -"
"If there was any other choice I'd take it. There is no choice." He gazed in the direction of the silver vessel, and she turned her head. Her men milled in confusion, clearly not knowing what to do. Sabre was her champion, so his unexpected attack had evidently shocked them, and, as far as they knew, he was invincible. She looked back at him as he stroked her hair again, his touch gentle.
"I'll cherish the memory of our time together," he said.
"I will find you and free you."
He snorted and smiled. "The warrior queen... That's impossible, I'm afraid."
"You'll see. One day I'll come for you."
"No, I don't mean that. While the odds against it are astronomical, you might even succeed in that quest, because you're so damned stubborn, but you'll never be able to free me from the control unit again. Myon Two will repair it."
"I'll find a way, I swear it."
Manutim's shout intruded. "Cyber! Get away from her, now!"
Sabre glanced in the direction of the shout, and she followed his gaze. Her men had moved off, apparently unnerved by the approaching strangers and their silver weapons.
Sabre released her and sat back, but she refused to let him go.
"Stand up, Cyber Four," Manutim ordered.
Sabre obeyed, lifting Tassin to her feet. The alien warriors had herded her men further away, and one guarded them. The second crewman pointed his weapon at Sabre, but they kept their distance. Sabre looked at Manutim, his eyes cold. Manutim jerked his head at the second guard, who darted in and grabbed Tassin's arm.
She kicked him. "Let me go, you lout!"
The crewman hauled her away, his weapon trained on the cyber.
"Cyber Four, report," Manutim commanded.
Sabre hesitated, and Tassin wondered if Manutim still did not believe her, in which case, perhaps Sabre could pretend to be under cyber control and avoid being taken to Myon Two for repairs. Even Sabre's momentary hesitation should have given him away, yet Manutim seemed to be having a great deal of trouble accepting that Sabre was free of cyber control. The extreme caution with which he and his men had approached the cyber, however, indicated that he was unsure. Why was the concept so outlandish? If Sabre could fool Manutim, he might be able to escape, steal a ship and return to Omega Five. Her heart quickened with hope. She wished she had thought to suggest the idea to him earlier, and cursed herself. Even more, she cursed herself for telling Manutim that Sabre was free. She had thought it would persuade him to leave Sabre with her.
Sabre said, "Mission completed successfully."
Tassin stifled a sob of relief. A modicum of hope remained, and she clung to it.
Manutim asked, "Is the area known as the Death Zone destroyed?"
"Yes."
"Is the threat to the primary command subject eliminated?"
"No. Weapons have been installed in the fortified structure where the primary subject resides, but the enemy remains a possible threat."
"Are you damaged?"
"This unit is functional. Bio status at seventy-nine per cent."
Manutim turned to Tassin. "You see, there's nothing wrong with him."
"Oh," she choked out, her throat tight. "I thought he was damaged."
"Sir." The guard peered at Sabre, frowning. "There are too many red lights on his control unit."
Manutim also studied the brow band. "Yes, I see what you mean."
"Maybe she's right."
"If he's malfunctioning, Cybercorp owes me a refund, or a replacement. A free cyber!" He snorted. "Yeah, right. That would be a first, but I'm not taking any chances." Manutim raised the black instrument, and Sabre froze. Tassin's heart filled with despair as he bowed his head, his hands clenched. Manutim turned to the crewman who guarded the soldiers.
"Bring the transport unit."
"But that's right at the back of the shuttle," the man protested.
"Just get it; I'm not letting him aboard until he's packed."
"It'll take a while," the crewman grumbled.
Tassin's captor turned his weapon on her soldiers while the other crewman trotted into the ship.
Manutim approached her, and she glared at him, shaking tangled hair from her face. He pushed back his hood to reveal a bearded visage with hard, dark blue eyes. His short black hair was shaved in swirling patterns above his ears, and his beard was trimmed with inhuman precision. A line of blue tattoos crossed his brow and vanished into his hair at his temples. Although not handsome, he had a certain presence; an aura of power. She wondered what had prompted him to finally reveal his face, and decided it was probably because she knew so much now, about his spaceship, and cyborgs, so he had dropped the magician act.
"What will you do to him?" she asked.
"I'll have to take him back to Myon Two for diagnostics and repairs."
"Please don't."
He glanced down at the black tool. "What happened to him?"
"He fell off a mountain. He explained what was done to him, and it's cruel and barbaric."
"Cyber hosts don't feel pain. He does seem to be malfunctioning, though, so he could be dangerous, but I can't afford to just write him off. Besides, Myon Two will track him down, and enforcers are an unforgiving bunch."
Tassin tried to jerk her arm from the warrior's grip, and scowled at Manutim. "Tell him to take his hands off me!"
He nodded, and the crewman released her.
Tassin rubbed her wrist. "Couldn't you tell these... enforcers that he's stationed here permanently?"
"No. This is a restricted world. He was never supposed to be here."
"Why did you bring him, then?"
"To help you, of course."
"Why?"
Manutim glanced around at the bitter landscape. "We're distant cousins, you and I. My family left before the war. I wanted to help, that's all."
Tassin tried to think of something, anything that might persuade him to let Sabre stay, but her mind was blank and a lump blocked her throat. She gulped. At the very least, she had to say goodbye.
"Let me speak to him alone, please."
Manutim shrugged and signalled to the guard, following him back to the ship. As they vanished inside, she fought an insane urge to order her men to bring Sabre a horse. She did not doubt that Manutim would kill them to reclaim his property, however, and Sabre would not co-operate. He raised his head when she touched his chest, his expression forlorn. His eyes glimmered, and he closed them as she embraced him, holding her close. Snowflakes drifted around them like frozen sorrow. She laid her cheek on his shoulder, the snorts of her soldiers' horses the only sounds in the cocoon of silence that engulfed them.
"Go home. You'll catch a cold," he whispered.
"I won't leave you."
He sighed. "Will you do something for me?"
"Anything."
"Kill me."
She recoiled, raising her eyes to his. "No!"
"Just put your dagger against my eye and push."
"No! I will not. I cannot!"
"I can't do it. I tried, but the cyber stops me." He gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Apparently it doesn't like the idea of a dead host. Don't let me go back to that life. Please."
Tassin shook her head, swallowing a lump.
"You'll never see me again, anyway," he murmured.
"I can't!" she wailed, shaking her head.
"I'm sorry." His breath caught. "I had no right to ask."
"I would do anything for you, except that."
Manutim re-emerged from the ship, his man following.
Sabre met her eyes. "Forget me. I'm just a broken killing machine. I'm riffraff, remember?" His smile was forced, and only made it worse.
"Never. I'll find you and free you, if it takes the rest of my life, I swear it."
He glanced at the approaching spacers. "Go now. Don't watch this."
"What are they going to do?"
"They can't risk a malfunctioning cyber on their ship. They'll fit a temporary link to the control unit to put me into cold sleep so they can pack me in a transport unit."
"There must be a way to stop this!"
"No, there isn't." His mouth twisted, and he looked away.
Manutim approached with the black instrument and a smaller gadget. Sabre shot him a hunted look, tearing her heart, and she hated Manutim all the more for it. She gripped Sabre's jaw and turned his head towards her.
"Don't look at him. Look at me. Let me be the last thing you see until I free you. I will free you, I swear it."
Sabre shook his head. "You can't, but I'll dream about it."
Manutim pushed the end of a thin cable into a tiny slot on the edge of Sabre's brow band and checked a glowing readout on his instrument, tapping buttons on it.
Tassin met Sabre's eyes and forced a smile, hoping it did not look as unconvincing and pathetic as his had. "I'll find you. I'll save you."
"Don't try, it's hopeless."
Tenderness shone in his eyes, mingled with helpless dread. Manutim glanced up and pressed a button on his instrument. Sabre drew in a shuddering gasp, and his face twisted. His hands flashed up to grip the brow band as he had so many times during the early days of his freedom, and had not for months. His eyes glazed and closed, and he sank to his knees, then back onto his haunches. His head drooped, and he slumped sideways. She knelt beside him, a black tide of sorrow and pain swamping her. The brow band flashed erratically before the lights settled into familiar red and green patterns. The seven diagonal lights flashed three times and turned amber. Manutim stepped closer and bent to examine the band. Apparently satisfied, he straightened and tapped on the control box's buttons again. Tassin stifled a sob as the cyber band's lights turned red. Manutim unplugged the cable, and the second guard emerged from the ship, guiding the smooth grey casket Sabre had arrived in so long ago. It floated several centimetres above the ground, gleaming in the dull light. The crewman stopped it close by, and it sank to the ground when he pressed a button on its side. The thin line appeared in its smooth surface, and he lifted the lid with a faint hiss.
The other crewman approached, and they lifted Sabre into the casket. As they placed him within its silken confines, she scrambled up and ran to its side, shoving a man aside to kneel beside it. The warrior glanced at Manutim, who shrugged. Tassin leant into the casket to clasp Sabre's face, his skin unnaturally cool. The brow band was almost entirely black, save for a tiny amber light in the top right hand corner, which flashed at two-second intervals. Her tears wet his cheeks as she bent to kiss him, wishing she had thought to do it earlier, when he had been awake. She should have told him how she felt; now it was too late. Her heart drowned in a black sea of sorrow.
"I love you, Sabre," she whispered, hoping that somehow he could hear her in the dark fog that trapped him, but she suspected that he was unconscious. "I'll find you, I promise."
Forcing herself to release him, Tassin rose to her feet with all the dignity she could muster, and the man closed the lid. The casket sealed with a click, and the lights on its side changed from orange to red. The crewman touched the buttons once more, and it floated up.
Tears ran down her face as he guided the casket into the ship.
Manutim turned to her. "I had hoped my help would strengthen our good relations. In ten years' time the restrictions on Omega Five will be lifted, and I intend to make it my base. As the first to set up -"
"I don't care about your plans. I will find him and save him, if it takes the rest of my life."
"That's impossible."
"I'll find a way. I won't let him live out his life in slavery. What would it take to get him back? How much gold?"
"You can't afford him. Cybers are worth more than half a million credits, even second hand."
Her hand cracked against his cheek, making him jerk back in shock. "Don't talk about him as if he's a piece of equipment!" she shouted. "I will get him back! Now get off my land! I never want to see you again!"
He rubbed his cheek and retreated, scowling. "You're a fool. He's just a killing machine."
"He's worth a hundred of you!" she bellowed. "Compared to him, you're a toad!"
Manutim swung away and marched into the ship. Her heart was a block of ice as she mounted her warhorse, which a soldier led up, and her men gathered around her. She closed her eyes and raised her face, letting the snow settle on her skin and melt, mingling with her tears.
At the edge of the forest, she stopped to gaze at the silver ship through the shifting curtain of falling snow. The pain in her heart made it hard to breathe, and she gasped clouds of steam in jerky exhalations. Perhaps a part of her was dying. The part Sabre had touched with his soft smiles and gentle teasing, shy glances and comforting strength. The future without him loomed empty and desolate, with nothing to comfort her but his memory.
The craft drifted upwards and shot away, lost in the grey clouds. Her brave words seemed foolish now, although she had meant them, and still did. How would she find him when she was trapped on this world while he was enslaved amongst the stars? Even if she found a way to venture out there, where would she search? Even if she found him, how would she free him from the brow band's control? She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a whimper. There was no hope of finding him. He would die a cyber host. Sobs racked her as her general took her horse's reins and led it into the woods.
\*\*\*\*
The Cyber Chronicles saga continues in Book IV, Cyborg, Book V, Overlord, Book VI, Warrior Breed, Book VII, Sabre, Book VIII, Scorpion Lord, Book IX, Precipice, and many more as yet unwritten.
About the author
T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and her family moved to the Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her formative years exploring the islands -- mostly alone. Naturally, her imagination flourished and she developed a keen love of other worlds. The family travelled through Europe and Africa and, after the death of her father, settled in South Africa. T. C. Southwell has written over forty novels and five screenplays. Her hobbies include motorcycling, horse riding and art, and she earns a living in the IT industry.
All illustrations and cover designs by the author.
Contact the author at demonlord07@hotmail.com
Mike Baum and Janet Longman, former employers, for their support, encouragement, and help. My mother, without whose financial support I could not have dedicated myself to writing for ten years. Isabel Cooke, former agent, whose encouragement and enthusiasm led to many more books being written, including this one. Suzanne Stephan, former agent, who has helped me so much over the past six years, and Vanessa Finaughty, good friend and business partner, for her support, encouragement and editing skills.

