The Cyber Chronicles IV: Cyborg

By T C Southwell

For three long years, Tassin has tried to find a way to travel to the stars and free Sabre. Her hunt for the sword the Core lives in has proven futile, until one day a serving boy finds a key, and she discovers where Sabre hid the sword. She persuades the malevolent weapon to take her to Sabre, and arrives on the planet Ferrinon Four. Lost in a modern city, Tassin goes to a private detective who, since she has no money, advises her to try a friendly young hacker. Kole agrees to help her look for a cyber she only knows is somewhere on the planet. Without Sabre’s serial number, all she can do is seek him amongst the many others on this world.

If she does locate Sabre, she has no money with which to buy him, and cybers cannot be stolen. Even Kole, who is the best hacker on the planet, knows it is impossible to hack a control unit. The micro-supercomputer is simply too complex, and has multiple security checks and firewalls, not to mention a lethal pair of fists. Tassin’s only source of potential wealth is the sword, an oddity that a rich mogul might pay handsomely for. Kole advertises the weapon on the Net, and agrees to loan her the money to buy Sabre if she finds him, although to Tassin, the idea of buying him is abhorrent.

First they have to find him, and then she has to find a way to free him from cyber control again. Manutim would have taken him back to Myon Two for repairs, and there’s a chance she may never be able to free him again, but at least she can ensure he does not suffer anymore. What kinds of torture has Cybercorp subjected Sabre to, and, if she finds him and frees him, will he still be the man she loves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: T C Southwell
• Release date: Apr 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458187482

T C Southwell

T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and 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 thirty fantasy and science fiction novels, as well as five screenplays. Her hobbies include motorcycling, horse riding and art, and she is now a full-time writer.

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The Cyber Chronicles IV

Cyborg

T C Southwell

Published by T C Southwell at Smashwords

Copyright © 2011 by T C Southwell

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Prologue

The cyber-bio combat unit is the ultimate hi-tech fighting machine. He has metal-plated bones and internal body armour, and is controlled by a micro-supercomputer embedded in a brow band attached to the skull plating under his scalp. The band of golden metal curves around his forehead, about three centimetres wide, three millimetres thick and fifteen centimetres long, its rounded ends not quite reaching his hairline. 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. He has split-second reactions and 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 Cybercorp has ensured no cyber will ever gain a sense of self, with all the ramifications that stem from it.

One cyber, however, is freed from his control unit by a freak accident and befriends Queen Tassin Alrade on the post-holocaust world of Omega Five.

Chapter One

Tassin leant on the battlements and gazed across the forest that stretched away to the horizon, beyond which the sun sank in a medley of red and gold. Below her, peasants rattled past on rickety carts packed with produce or firewood, calling greetings to the guards on the ramparts. Life went on as it always had, but for her it no longer had any joy in it. The gusting wind ruffled her hair, carrying scents of wood smoke and flowers. She still missed Sabre with every iota of her being. His memory haunted her. She recalled his gentle strength and teasing smile, the way he had taken care of her and how safe she had been with him. She longed to have that again, but knew she never would. The laser cannons on her battlements were a constant reminder of him, what he stood for and where he had come from.

Manutim had taken him back there, beyond the stars; somewhere out in the heavens, lost in the void. She had not seen the spacer she had thought was a magician since then. If she had, she would have begged him to bring Sabre back, or take her to him. Anything to be reunited with him, for being apart from him was too painful to bear. Desolate dark blue eyes stared back at her when she looked in a mirror now, lacklustre and sorrowful in a pale face whose youthful innocence had been tempered by grief and bitterness, even though she was only twenty-one years old. Her maidens styled her sable hair in the latest fashions, and she wore the graceful gowns her dressmakers made, but she had no interest in the young lords who had come a-courting. Her heart belonged to Sabre.

There had been no parties, feasts or celebrations at Castle Alrade since she had returned after that fateful night, cold and bereft. She had wept for weeks, missed him and cursed the cruelty of his strange origins that had taken him from her. The despair in his eyes in the instant before Manutim had pushed the button that had robbed him of his freedom would haunt her forever. She recalled his peaceful face as he lay in the casket, his skin cool, unaware of her tears when she had kissed him goodbye. He had wanted to die, and she had sworn to find and free him.

An impossible promise she had been unable to keep. She raised her eyes to the sky, her heart aching, as usual. Since he had left, a tale had sprung up of an invincible magical warrior who dwelt in the forest. She had started it and fostered it, wishing it was true. Sometimes, she allowed herself to dream that it was true, and would imagine she glimpsed a sun-burnished golden warrior standing in a glade when she was out riding in the forest. The legend kept her safe from the kings who had tried so hard to annex her kingdom through marriage, greedy for her verdant land and prosperous towns. Sabre was gone, however, packed away in a grey casket, more dead than alive. Three years of grinding misery had passed since then, especially since about two years ago, when her last hope of finding him had been snuffed out.

For the first year, she had had hope, although it had dwindled over the months of fruitless searching for one thing that might make journeying to the stars possible: the sword she had brought from the Death Zone. It contained the Core, the evil entity that had created and ruled the Death Zone, which had become trapped in the weapon Sabre had used to destroy it. The Core could twist time and space; that was how it had created the Death Zone. Although it had lost most of its power, she knew it could help her. It had transported her and Sabre to the skifgar world and brought them back. If only she could find it. Sabre, she was sure, had hidden it, for he had hated it. She had practically torn the castle apart looking for it, and there was still a handsome reward for its location or any information that led to its discovery. Sabre’s hiding place remained a mystery. Perhaps he had buried it in the forest, or thrown it in a lake. He might even have bricked it up in a wall. There was just no way to know. Tassin sighed and rubbed her stinging eyes.

A polite cough made her turn. An auburn-haired lady-in-waiting in a pale blue gown trimmed with white embroidery stood a few steps away, looking apologetic.

Excuse me, Majesty.

What is it? Tassin disliked being disturbed during her sunset retreat.

This boy… The woman reached around and drew a shock-haired urchin from behind her skirts. …Says he has found something you might want.

The lad looked about ten years old, and was covered from head to foot in soot, probably a chimney sweep. He also looked terrified, and clutched something in a grimy hand. She smiled at him and softened her tone. What did you find, boy?

A key, Missus, he said.

The lady-in-waiting cuffed him. Majesty.

He cringed. Majesty.

The lady-in-waiting grimaced and drew out a lace handkerchief to wipe her hand.

Tassin shot her a frown and then smiled at the boy again. A key? Where did you find it?

In the chimney in the room where the star warrior stayed… Majesty.

Tassin’s heart leapt and thudded. Show me.

The boy opened his hand to display a small copper key, the sort that fitted cupboards and wardrobes. Her heart sank a little, but she kept her smile in place. Could it be that simple? Sabre’s quarters had been searched many times, however. There could not be a locked cupboard in them.

She held out her hand. May I have it?

The boy gave it to her, and she studied it. Verdigris made it almost entirely green, so it had been hidden somewhere for a long time. Perhaps three years. His rooms had been empty since he had left, so no one had swept the chimney, until now.

Let’s go and see what it opens, shall we? Tassin swept past them towards the stairs.

In Sabre’s old rooms, memories rushed back thick and fast. Apart from supervising the searches in the days after he had left, she had not braved all the memories they brought back. She had hardly entered them when he had been at the castle, but somehow his presence lingered. She could almost see him leaning against the wall beside the window, smiling, his gentle grey eyes twinkling. In the lounge, two brown sofas faced a low wooden table and a sideboard held a few knick-knacks. Nothing had been moved. In the bedroom, the bed stood against one wall, a bedside table next to it. The wardrobe still contained his clothes, and dusty blue curtains framed the windows. She turned to the boy and lady-in-waiting.

There is no cupboard.

‘Scuse me Missus, but there is, the boy said.

The lady-in-waiting raised her hand.

Strike that boy again, and you will forfeit your post, Tassin said.

The woman lowered her eyes. Sorry, Majesty.

Tassin asked the boy, Where is the cupboard?

He pointed at the darkest corner of the room, where several old portraits were stacked against the wall. Behind them.

Tassin wondered how he knew that, but shrugged it off. It did not matter. She went over to the portraits and pulled them away, and the boy stacked them against another wall. All she found behind them was a small corner and a musty curtain. The boy, however, brushed past her and drew aside the curtain. There behind it, in a nook made by an overlapping wall that some architectural bungle had created, so grey with dust that it almost matched the stone walls, was a small cupboard. She bent and fitted the key into the lock. It resisted a bit, then turned, and she opened the door.

In the gloom within, an old towel was wrapped around a long narrow object propped against the side of the cupboard. She fell to the knees, uncaring of her silver-grey skirts or the white lace that edged them, and reached in to draw out the bundle. The cloth fell away to reveal a gleaming sword with an intricate gold hilt that she instantly recognised. Her throat closed as the sword whined, and her fingers tingled when she stroked it, her breath catching.

I found you… she whispered.

The sword chimed and turned to crystal with a flash of ruby light. The lady-in-waiting gasped and the boy gaped.

Is that the sword, Majesty? the woman asked.

Tassin nodded. It is. This is the sword. The chaos weapon. The Core. I found it. She clasped it to her breast, her eyes stinging. How had they missed it? Had the searchers not bothered to try to open a locked cupboard? Had they not seen it behind the portraits and curtain? Had the portraits been stacked in front of it during the search? It did not matter. She had hope again. The sword chimed and reverted to metal. Tassin held it away to inspect it, rubbing spots of rust off its blade. The cupboard was dry and sealed, so the sword showed few signs of corrosion. She wanted to laugh and cry. After three years of hunting high and low, it had been right here all along, under her nose. If only it had chimed when the searchers had been in the room, they might have found it. If only Sabre had not hidden it in the first place. None of that mattered now, though. She stood up and smiled at the young chimney sweep.

You will be rewarded.

The lad grinned, his black eyes sparkling. She ordered the lady-in-waiting to give him the bag of gold that had been offered and headed for her study to start making arrangements. She had much to do and no time to waste. Sabre must not remain a slave a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. What had he said about the sword? She recalled his words, spoken in his soft, husky voice. It has the power to open portals in time and space and draw other worlds into its sphere of influence. She picked up her skirts and almost ran along the passage towards her study, startling guards and servants.

Tassin stood in the centre of the empty room in the upper battlements where she had chosen to begin her journey. She wore a tough silver-studded black leather jerkin and a matching riding skirt over silk pantaloons and a royal blue blouse. Strong boots shod her feet, and a bag of jewels and gold hung from her belt beside a dagger and the scabbard that would house the sword she now held. One thing she had learnt on her journey with Sabre was to dress appropriately.

Dena stood a few paces away, chewing her lip. She had grown into a pretty young woman of about fifteen years old, with maturity far beyond her years. Her brown hair was arranged in a fetching coif of curls and ringlets that framed her gamin face and covered the bare patches on her scalp. Her bent back was far less noticeable, and Tassin’s best healer had fashioned a brace for her crooked leg, so her limp was much improved. A few young noblemen had paid court, but Dena was too shy to accept their invitations to balls and hunts. Tassin hoped this would change as she gained confidence. Dena ministered to the poor, providing succour for the destitute and food for orphans, as well as shelters for the homeless, which had made her popular, and she enjoyed helping people.

Tassin’s nobles and advisors had objected strongly to Dena’s elevation to Regent in Tassin’s absence, but she had overruled their arguments. She had no time to debate the matter. Dena was a princess and the Queen’s adopted sister, and she would be Regent. Tassin would only be gone for a few weeks or months, at most, and she trusted Dena above all others. She was perhaps the only person who was utterly loyal to Tassin. Dena was a little worried about the arrangement, but had accepted it. She wanted Sabre back, too. After he had left, she had suffered nightmares of him drowning in dark water for months. At the time, Tassin had wondered if the mutant girl was not a little bit fey, and had some sort of connection to the man she loved so much.

As the time of her departure had drawn nearer, Tassin had grown increasingly nervous about venturing into the unknown on the crazy quest, but her resolve remained unwavering. Trusting her life to the alien entity in the sword was madness, Dena had pointed out several times. Well, then she was mad. She knew only a little of what to expect out there, beyond the stars, and it frightened her. Hell, the whole plan frightened her. Only her longing to be reunited with Sabre drove her on, yet she had no idea if he was even still alive. She had to believe that he was, however.

Dena came forward to embrace Tassin, who returned it, hampered by the weapon. Dena released her and retreated to a safe distance, and Tassin raised the sword. She was not sure this would even work, but she had to try. It was her only chance. Her palms were clammy and the sword seemed awfully heavy. She wiped one hand on her skirt and took a firmer grip on the weapon, shifted and licked her lips, gathering her courage.

She cast the Princess a brittle smile. Look after my kingdom.

Dena nodded. I will. Be careful; and good luck. Bring Sabre home.

I won’t rest until I find and free him.

I know.

Tassin looked at the shining blade and took a deep breath, steeling herself, then commanded, Take me to Sabre.

The weapon gave a flat chime, which she interpreted as refusal.

She frowned. After everything she had been through, she would not allow the sword to cheat her of her quest. If you don’t obey me, I’ll have you melted down. I’ll send you to the blacksmith. You hear me? If you want to be cherished, you must be useful. Take me to Sabre, now!

The sword flashed to crystal, and Tassin held her breath. Its light flared, shimmering with rainbow colours, and enveloped her in blinding brilliance that forced her to shut her eyes. Intense cold prickled her skin and her hands tingled as she seemed to fall into nothingness. The sickening weightlessness lasted only a few moments, then solid ground hit her feet. She staggered sideways, her head spinning, and sprawled. The sword clanged on a hard surface beside her. As the dizziness ebbed, she opened her eyes and raised her head.

Tall glass spires shone in early morning sunlight, and streams of gleaming, multi-coloured vehicles swept past close by and overhead. People wandered past, clad in bright, fine clothes, the men and most of the women wearing trouser suits, with a few women in short skirts.

Tassin blinked, hardly daring to believe her eyes. She levered herself to her knees, lingering vertigo making her sway. A man stopped beside her and bent to peer at her.

Are you all right? he asked, his words heavily accented.

She nodded. Yes, thank you.

The stranger smiled and continued on his way, and she took in the vista of buildings and streets as more people thronged them, disembarking from flying vehicles that swooped down to drop them off. Skyways spanned the gaps between many of the tall buildings, and bright signs flashed alien messages. It resembled the ancient, ruined city she had visited on Omega Five with Sabre, only this one was intact and inhabited. She climbed to her feet, using the sword as a prop. The whizzing vehicles unnerved her, so she moved closer to the nearest wall, wondering what she should do now. There was no sign of Sabre, so she could only assume that the sword had brought her to the right planet, but had not been able to deposit her at his side.

Now what? She sheathed the sword and set off along the street, hoping to find some clue as to what she should do next. How was she going to find Sabre in this massive metropolis? She did not think the sword could help her further, and she was reluctant to use it again. Perhaps it could not pinpoint him any better, but it might also have brought her somewhere far from him, where she would waste her time in fruitless searching. The Core hated Sabre, and she did not trust it any more than he had. She passed vast, glass-fronted shops that displayed all manner of clothes, jewellery and strange mechanical devices, towering buildings clad in shining steel and glass, and massive inns with marble foyers full of plants and well-dressed people.

By the afternoon, she had walked for kilometres, she estimated, but all that had changed was the streets had become a little less crowded and the buildings were not quite so tall and imposing. The city seemed endless and her quest doomed. How was she supposed to find a cyber in such a crowded place? A man who was clone, one of thousands, she guessed, and who did not even have a proper name. Only the one she had given him. She turned into an alley to escape the throngs of pedestrians. Now she wished she had brought some provisions. Her stomach growled and her mouth was dry. Sabre would have brought supplies. He would have known what to do, too.

This was his world, but to her it was a strange and frightening place populated by uncaring people. She missed him more than ever, and she had not thought that was possible. Tassin sat down beside a wall in the dim alley, where scraps of paper scuttled along the pavement in the wind, and rested her aching legs. Soon, dusk would fall, and she was lost. Despair drained her resolve, but she refused to give in to it. She was a warrior queen. She would find a way. What she needed was someone who knew how to locate a cyber. After resting for half an hour or so, she rose and went back to the busy street. Just up the road, she approached a liveried flunky who stood outside a gleaming inn, and he smiled at her.

Excuse me, she said. Do you know the best way to find a person in this city?

You could look up their name in the city database.

She shook her head. I don’t know his name.

The man’s eyebrows rose. Okay, then you probably need an investigator. There’s one just around the corner, in Limewell Street. There’s a sign outside his building.

Thank you. She set off in the direction he indicated.

Tassin found the sign, which said ‘Private Investigator Horral Horwin, 5th Floor, Suite 14’. Reaching the fifth floor involved climbing a lot of stairs. She wondered how the people who lived or worked in the tall