Chapter Five

 

Sabre looked up as Kole entered the hospital, his brows drawing together. Ten hours had passed since he had wrecked the exercise room, and Estrelle had persuaded him to let her tend to the cuts on his hands. He sat on a stool beside her workstation, and she used medical supplies from the first aid kit she had found in one of the hospital’s cabinets. She had sprayed his bloody knuckles with anaesthetic and then antibiotics, although the latter was unnecessary for a cyber. His destruction of the exercise room had restored some of his calm, but none of his peace, even with all the emotional crap shoved into his mind’s darkest corners. It still shouted its concern, anguish and despair from the back of his skull. Estrelle raked Kole with a quick glance, then resumed bandaging Sabre's right hand, which had suffered the worst damage.

The hacker flopped down in a chair, grinning. "Wow, Sabre, you sure know how to get yourself from the pot into the fire, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

Kole gestured. "You're on an enforcer ship, for god's sake!"

"In command of it."

"Ah well, of course, until they find a way to drug you in your sleep or knock you out with gas or something. At which point, Estrelle and Martis, and maybe even I'm going to be in a world of shit."

"They won't disobey Fairen."

"Of course they will; they're enforcers. They just have to make sure you can't send him a message, and you'll vanish without a trace, I guarantee it. This time they'll make sure no sympathetic techs can free you. How did you do that, by the way?" he asked Estrelle.

"On a drone ship."

"Oh, that must have been fun."

"Yeah, it was a barrel of laughs."

Sabre shook his head. "They can't drug or gas me."

"There are how many enforcers on this ship?"

"About a hundred and fifty."

"And four cybers."

"I have their overrides."

Kole snorted. "You'd better get command privileges too, just in case. Or give them to me, in case they find a way to knock you out. Cybers can be knocked out, can't they, Estrelle?"

"Very difficult to do, but it's possible, yeah."

"You see?"

Sabre sighed, flexing his hand as Estrelle finished bandaging it. "All right, if it'll make you feel safer."

"It should make you feel safer too."

"I don't feel threatened."

Kole eyed him. "Sure you do. You're as tense as an acrobat's high wire, old chum."

"What did you find out on Omega Five?"

"Not much. Just what I already told Overlord Fairen. They're a bunch of peasants, that lot. So what's the plan?"

"I need you to hack into the local network and plant some information."

The hacker smiled. "What sort?"

"There's a new outfit in town, selling cybers, repair equipment, drugs and repair services. We also buy and sell high-quality slaves."

"So you're after Tarl. I wondered how you'd find Tassin. Good plan. It might even work."

Sabre looked away. "There's a chance it will."

Kole's gaze dropped to the cyber's bandaged hands. "What happened to you?"

"I vented some frustration."

"Wow, what does the poor slob look like? A red smear on the floor?"

Estrelle shot him a sharp look. "Sabre didn't hurt anyone."

"More's the pity. These enforcers give me the willies. All scowls and glares. You should rip off a few heads, get them in line."

"Sabre's tense because his brain block has failed, so don't antagonise him, okay?" she said.

Kole's eyes flicked over the cyber. "And what does brain block failure do?"

"It means he's got feelings now. A lot more than he's ever had before, and stronger."

"Really?" Kole leant forward. "So he's not a cool dude anymore, huh? He's what, a hothead?"

"He's very angry, yeah."

Sabre said, "And he's getting angrier the longer you two discuss him like he's part of the furniture."

"You seem calm enough to me, old pal."

"It's an illusion."

"Ah."

Sabre eyed the hacker. "So how long is it going to take you to get off your backside and get to work?"

"You know, a little civility wouldn't go amiss here, old chum. I don't have to be here, or help you. I already did you a big favour getting you off Eden Five, and, while I admit it was fun for the most part, it doesn't mean I work for you."

The cyber nodded, ignoring Estrelle's anxious look. "You're right. If you want to piss off, then do. If not, start hacking."

Kole glanced at Estrelle. "He doesn't seem any different to me."

"Are you trying to make him angry?"

"Just pushing buttons."

"Well, I don't advise it. He's got a lot of boom buttons now."

Kole's brows rose. "Boom buttons?"

"Yeah, the kind that you really shouldn't push."

Sabre bowed his head and gazed at his hands. "He's right, Estrelle, he doesn't have to help."

She shot him a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing.”

All the fight had drained out of Sabre, taking with it his resolve to find Tassin. The emotion Estrelle had named earlier had taken hold, and he could not shake it off. Despair. He was not meant to be in charge, and he was not good at it. As had happened on Triumphant during the Corsair attack, he did not want to be in charge of such a hopeless situation. He was plugging holes in a boat that had already sunk. Despair, he discovered, was an oddly numbing emotion. It took away his hope and gave him permission to give up. The situation was hopeless, anyway. Who was he trying to kid? His machine-trained mind had calculated the odds of finding Tassin and returned a decimal so small he did not want to count the zeroes in front of it. She was lost, and he would never find her.

After all they had been through, fate had dealt a final, crushing blow. A small voice nagged him that Tassin had not given up when Manutim had taken him, but she had had the sword, which had found him and brought her to him, while all he had were his wits, an enforcer ship full of men who hated his guts and a bunch of annoying, argumentative companions. He was just a broken killing machine, and now he was a broken killing machine with a shitload of really crappy emotions he did not know how to deal with. It was so unfair, and he was tired of all the struggle and strife.

Estrelle turned to Martis, who adjusted some instruments, and he looked up at the same time. "Martis, get those command privileges, now."

He jumped up and trotted out, and Estrelle faced Sabre again, her brow furrowed with worry.

Kole straightened, frowning. "What is it?"

"He's withdrawing."

"What does that mean?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. I've never had to deal with a free cyber before, have I? But he's not himself, that's for sure."

Sabre stared at the floor, his mind blank. Kole rose and followed Martis. Estrelle sat down and peered at Sabre's face.

"What are you feeling?"

He sighed. "Nothing much."

"Come and lie down, please." She held out her hand.

Several moments passed before he raised his gaze to her hand. He took it, allowing her to tug him over to the padded examination table that would be used to repair injured cybers. He lay down on it and stared at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. Within the darkness of his mind, he scanned the cyber’s scrolling data and found no answers in it. He flinched from the emotional storm going on in the dark corners where he had stuffed all the useless feelings, unable to deal with them. He wanted out, just as he had done when Ravian had made him step out of the airlock and Tisha had tried to seduce him. He was not designed to deal with this shit. He let the peaceful darkness in the centre of his being wash over him with soothing waves of sorrow.

 

 

Estrelle waited, chewing her nails, for several minutes until Kole and Martis returned, looking cross but triumphant.

"We got them," Martis announced. "How is he?"

"Not good."

Martis approached the cyber and gazed down at him, placing a hand on his brow. "He's cold."

"Oh, god," Estrelle muttered.

"What?" Kole demanded. "What the hell is going on?"

Martis frowned and went to lock the door. "He's withdrawn from reality. He's trying to shut down. It's almost as if he's going into cold sleep."

"Why?"

"It's a way of avoiding the situation, and his feelings. It's the stress."

Kole looked alarmed. "But without him -"

"We could be in danger, yeah. But the enforcers don't know, and we have to keep it that way."

"For how long?"

Martis shook his head. "I don't know."

Estrelle glared at Kole. "You did this. You pushed an off button."

"How the hell did I do that?"

"By telling him that you didn't have to help him. It was the last straw, I think. Without you, his plan fails."

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it!"

She nodded. "But he was on a razor's edge, and a bit of reluctance on your part was all it took to push him off."

"He could do the hacking himself."

"That's not the point. Right now he needs your support, even more than ours. He's already deep in despair, now he's either given up, or he just can't cope with the situation anymore."

Kole muttered, "I thought he was a tough guy, not the sort to wimp out when the shit hits the fan."

"Yeah, well none of us really knows what he's going through, but try to imagine this: he's lived his entire life controlled by a computer, unable to make any decisions at all, not so much as when he can go to the toilet. He gets free, and suddenly he can do what he wants, but what does he do? He does what Tassin wants, maybe partly because he likes her, maybe because he has no purpose of his own, and probably partly because she was his owner and the control unit punished him if he didn't. So he was still taking orders, just not from the control unit anymore.”

Estrelle paused, shaking her head. "Then he gets to go back to Myon Two, and is put under cyber control again. He gives up. He thinks it's all over, but Tassin frees him again. Wonderful, right? Sure, but again he does what she wants. He protects her, so he has a purpose. But this whole time, he has very few emotions, some vague feelings of love, some anger, a bit of hatred, nothing serious. He still has a cool, analytical mind.

"Then he's taken to Myon Two again and tortured, but we free him. Wonderful, and he has a purpose, to return to Omega Five and be with Tassin. Now she's been taken, and there's an excellent chance he'll never find her. When he hears that, he suddenly gets a shitload of full-strength emotions that he doesn't know how to deal with dumped into his mind. He tries to vent it, and that helped a bit, then you come along and tell him you don't have to help him. God, Kole, wouldn't you want to cop out? His only purpose now is finding Tassin, without that, he has no reason to live, and he's not used to being in charge, either."

Martis nodded, gazing at Sabre. "He's checked out. He can't cope."

"He said he couldn't," Estrelle agreed. "I guess he's had enough of trying."

Kole scowled at the recumbent cyber. "I don't buy it. He's a take-charge kind of guy. He revels in dangerous situations; that's when he starts kicking butts, barking orders and taking over. This isn't like him."

"That was before he had to deal with all the feelings as well. If his block hadn't failed, he'd be fine, but now... he can't cope with the despair of losing Tassin, or the anguish of not knowing if she's alive or dead."

"So isn't there a way to make him snap out of it?"

"What do you suggest?"

Kole threw up his hands. "I don't know! Smack him around a bit, maybe he'll get angry enough to defend himself."

"Are you volunteering?"

"Then try talking to him."

"And tell him what?" she asked. "That we've found Tassin? That's the only thing that would bring him out of it I think, but only if he could hear it, which, right now, I doubt. And all your talk about the enforcers drugging him or gassing him or knocking him out didn't exactly help his stress levels either, did it?"

Kole swung away, running a hand through his hair. "Without him, we're in big shit."

Martis looked up. "We've got to stop the enforcers from finding out what's happened, and we can't move him. You need to get cracking on the hacking, Kole, and send two cybers down here to guard the door. We just tell the enforcers that Sabre's staying here so he doesn't have to be around them because he doesn't trust himself not to break a few heads. I reckon they'll be happy to leave him alone. All orders will come through us."

"Right," Kole said. "We need to find Tarl. He can fix him."

"How's he going to do that?"

"You don't know Tarl. He's a whizz with cybers. You're just researchers; he was a repair tech for fifteen years. You two are fresh out of the academy, aren't you?"

Martis raised his chin. "I have two years’ experience."

"Big deal. Tarl was the one who restored his memories."

"And I was the one who reprogrammed him so he could deal with the brain block failure."

"Well, you didn't do a very good job, did you?" Kole retorted.

"If I hadn't he'd be much worse than -"

"Okay!" Estrelle raised her hands. "Cut out the pissing contest! Kole, we're in a hurry, so please get to work."

The hacker glared at her, then turned and strode to the door, letting himself out. Martis pulled an analyser over to the table and plugged it into the brow band's port. Estrelle sat beside the table, gazing down at the cyber.

"At least he's at peace now."

"I think that was the idea. I thought Kole would make him angry, but this is even worse."

She stroked Sabre's hair. "I wonder how he did it?"

Martis shrugged, studying the information that scrolled up his screen. "Took a swan dive into the darkest pit in his mind he could find."

"But that's not normal. We can't do that."

"Stress can make a person pass out."

"This isn't a simple fainting spell. It's way more."

Martis typed on his keypad. "I'm sure he found lots of ways to escape from reality when he was cyber controlled, and who can blame him? He's almost in a cold sleep now, brain function minimal, heart rate at ten beats per minute. The control unit's fully functional, but useless, since it's not in control."

"He must love her very much."

"Yeah." Martis turned to her. "I'll hook up a drip to keep him fed and hydrated."

 

****

 

Tassin wielded the scrubbing brush, slowing her efforts while no one was watching, since she had discovered that the harder she worked, the more tasks she was given. For a week her life had been one of endless drudgery and vile food. Blisters had formed on her hands and burst, leaving painful sores, her back ached and her head pounded. There seemed to be no end to the work. Endrovar had parties almost every night, and she had to clean up the mess.

The sound of footsteps made her speed up her scrubbing, and she glanced up as a shadow fell on her. Ashmond stood there, looking smug.

"Well, Your Majesty, how low the mighty have fallen, hey?"

"I'd rather scrub the bilges of this filthy tub than rut with that fat pig."

"Good thing spaceships don't have bilges, or doubtless you would be. Endrovar was peeved to be forced to give up the pleasure of your company, but Tarl is proving to be worth his weight in gold. Get up, you're coming with me."

Tassin rose, rubbing her knees. "Where are we going?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

The Queen followed him along the passage to her tiny cabin, where he instructed her to change into her own clothes. When she was ready, he led her to a plush room carpeted in purple shag and furnished with white suede settees and a glass-topped coffee table. He ordered her to wait, and she sat and fidgeted, disliking the situation and wondering what the purpose of this was. After almost an hour, the door slid open and Ashmond beckoned to her, taking her elbow when she joined him in the corridor.

"Well, now I can tell you where you're going. You see, Endrovar finds your continued presence annoying, a constant reminder of what he can't have, so he just sold you. Right now we're in orbit at Forge Prime, and your new owner's sending a shuttle to collect you."

She jerked her arm from his grip. "You can't do this! Tarl won't work if I'm sold."

"He won't know. He's been asking to see you, but I just say no, and he has to accept it. And even if he finds out, it'll be too late. All he'll do is earn himself punishment. Nobody blackmails Endrovar."

Tassin glared at him. "I won't co-operate. Whoever just bought me will be demanding a refund within the hour. I'll -"

"You'll do as you’re told, and Endrovar explained your truculence to the buyers. Your new owner is prepared to deal with you. Maybe he even enjoys it. Some do, I've heard."

"Please, don't let him do this. I thought you were a decent man, a noble, not a pig like Endrovar."

He shrugged. "Alas, I do as I'm told. I need this job to support a very large and penniless family."

"Let me send a message, please! Just a minute at a transmitter; Endrovar will never know."

"Oh, he'll know, especially if whoever you call comes looking for you."

She shook her head. "You'll be safe, I swear."

"But I'll be out of a job, won't I?"

"I can take care of you and your family. You’ll never have to cow-tow to anyone again."

Ashmond regarded her with chilly eyes. "Easy to make promises, but how do I know it's the truth? No, far safer to keep the income I've got than take a gamble on your ability to make good on your promises."

"My betrothed is the friend of an Overlord, Ashmond. If you help me, you'll win his favour."

"You know, the promise of boundless wealth was easier to swallow; now you just sound ridiculous. Come on." The baron took hold of her arm again and tugged her along the passage.

"I've met Overlord Fairen. I've been aboard the Scorpion Ship."

"You'd make a fine storyteller. Perhaps you should try it on your new owners."

"I'm telling the truth, ask a cyber."

"I don't have command privileges, and I'm not going to tell Endrovar about your ridiculous claims without proof. Do you have proof?"

"How could I?” she asked. “Do you think Overlords hand out keepsakes or something?"

"They do, actually, to their friends."

"Yes, the bracelet! Sabre has one, or he had, until Myon Two abducted him. They took it off."

"An Overlord bracelet can't be removed, so now you've just proved that you're lying," he said.

"It's the truth, I swear. Myon Two found a way to remove it."

"Impossible. And why would Myon Two want to abduct your betrothed, anyway, especially if he's an Overlord's friend? They'd be signing their death warrants."

"I can't tell you that,” Tassin said, “but you and Endrovar are signing your death warrants right now, by handing me over to some brutish pig."

"You're not an Overlord's friend, so even if your betrothed is one, which I highly doubt, we're not."

"Oh, Sabre won't need Fairen's help to deal with you and Endrovar, trust me."

Ashmond snorted, pulling her through a door into a space dock, where four men in smart azure uniforms waited. "Then it's a good thing we're getting rid of you, isn't it?" He stopped and faced the men. "Here she is, full of fire and brimstone, as promised."

The foremost man eyed her, then gestured to the open airlock. "Come on, let's go."

Tassin shot the baron a last killing look and followed her new jailers into a silver shuttle with deep crimson floors and pale cream bulkheads, her head held high. The door clunked shut as one man strapped her into a seat, and the craft undocked with a slight jerk. There were no screens, and when the door opened at the end of the journey, a dim corridor yawned ahead. Her gut clenched with trepidation. Gloom was associated with dark minds and evil ways, in her estimation, and the dark ship boded ill.

The men took her to a spacious sitting room, where she waited for an hour, then one returned to usher her into a significantly dimmer adjoining room. Soft golden lights glowed from recesses in the walls, which appeared to be hung with dark cloth. A slender man with a gaunt, narrow face and short dark gold hair looked up from where he reclined on a huge black sofa. His cobalt jacket and trousers were unadorned, yet tasteful and expensive. Putting down a vidbook, he raked her with golden eyes and gestured to the settee opposite.

"Have a seat. Are you thirsty or hungry?"

Tassin sank down on the couch, shaking her head. "Thank you, no."

"I am Tarvin. Be at ease, you have nothing to fear."

"Why did you buy me?"

"Ah, right to the point, I like that." He studied her, tilting his head. "I haven't decided yet. I heard that you claim to be royalty, and I was intrigued."

She nodded, hiding her blistered hands in her riding habit’s skirts. “I am Queen Tassin Alrade of Arlin, Omega Five.”

He seemed unimpressed, so either he did not believe her, or he did not care. “I was also told that you're truculent, and a bit of a handful, is that true?"

"Aren't all slaves truculent?"

"Not so much. I’m sure they are resentful, but usually they're too scared to betray their resentment, lest they jeopardise their lives. Slave owners seldom tolerate a rebellious slave, and they have ways of ensuring obedience."

Tassin chewed her lip, her tension increasing. "I’ll repay whatever you paid for me if you'll let me go."

"That’s a sizeable sum. I got into a bidding war with that uncouth primitive, Daone. He should have known better than to bid against me, so he's now licking his wounds, I would imagine."

"Was it just a matter of proving that you have more money than him?"

"Not at first,” he said, “but towards the end, I must admit I was growing annoyed with his persistence."

"Endrovar probably planted him to push up the price, then."

"Perhaps."

“So if you weren’t looking for a slave, why were you even at the... What was it, a Net auction?"

“Yes. I was invited.”

"I just want to go home," she said, wondering if it was possible to appeal to his better nature, if he had one.

"Of course you do."

Tarvin touched a keypad on the arm of the sofa, and a few moments later the door opened to admit a uniformed servant with a tray of assorted drinks. Tarvin selected a beverage and gestured at Tassin.

"The lady will have something, too."

The servant offered her the tray, and she chose a glass at random. When the door shut behind him, she tasted the concoction, finding it quite pleasant.

"Will you consider my offer?" she asked.

"I’m afraid not. Tell me how you came to be in this unfortunate predicament."

Tassin settled back, relaxing somewhat, since he seemed friendly and sympathetic despite his refusal to consider her offer. It seemed odd that a slave owner would entertain a slave he had just purchased, and she hoped he might be sufficiently moved by her plight to help her. She related the entire tale, from the time she had been taken from Omega Five, including Sabre’s disappearance as the reason she had contacted the alien space vessel, although she did not mention what he was, or her suspicions about who had taken him and why. Tarvin listened intently, sipped his drink and interjected an occasional question, clearly fascinated. She wondered if he bought slaves just so he could listen to their woeful stories, and, if so, whether he might return her to Omega Five when she had told hers. The manservant brought fresh drinks when their glasses became empty, and a plate of tasty finger food, which she nibbled. At the end of the tale, Tarvin cocked his head and smiled.

“You have indeed suffered a terrible mishap. Most unfortunate; I sympathise.”

Tassin nodded, wondering at Tarvin’s stillness. He had not moved since she had come in, and his position on the sofa looked a trifle uncomfortable. Silence fell, and stretched, becoming awkward, and she tried to think of something to say to dispel it before he grew bored and dismissed her. "So do you own planets, like Endrovar?"

"Ah, well, whether what he owns could be called planets is debateable. Most of them are barely habitable, and only one is actually inhabited. Large moons might better describe them."

She sipped her drink, which was the same sort as the first one she had chosen, since she had decided that it really was tasty. "Why is it so dark in here?"

"I prefer darkness."

"Why?"

"I find it soothing."

Driven by a nagging suspicion, Tassin rose and went over to his sofa, settling on the end of it.

He watched her with a frown. "Please return to your seat over there."

"Why?"

"I would prefer you to sit over there."

Tassin leant closer, studying him. "Is there something wrong with you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You sit too still, and the darkness..."

"Please return to the other sofa,” he said.

"Are you paralysed?"

"If I answer your question, will you return to your seat?"

"All right."

Tarvin looked down at his glass. "Yes, I'm paralysed."

"An accident?"

"The other sofa?"

Tassin returned to her former seat. "So was it an accident?"

"Yes."

"And you don't want to talk about it."

"Would you, if you were me?"

"I suppose not."

Tarvin sipped his drink. "It was one of them." He pushed a button on his keypad, and soft lights came on in floor to ceiling recesses all around the walls. Standing under each one, his golden control unit glinting in the light, was a cyber. Tassin’s nape hairs prickled as her eyes swept around the room, counting them; fifteen, all clad in dark blue trousers and short jackets.

"You were attacked by a cyber?"

"I fought one."

"Why?"

"I thought I could win, obviously."

"You're lucky to be alive."

He shook his head. "Perhaps death would have been more merciful."

"Why do you keep them?"

"A reminder, perhaps, but also protection."

"What possessed you to fight a cyber?"

“I didn’t know what he was,” Tarvin said. "Ten years ago, cybers were unknown in this quadrant. I was... a fighter, the best in these parts by far. Unbeaten, and unbeatable, I thought. Not crass wrestling matches, you understand, but highly skilled combat. I spent my youth in training with the masters, and it was considered a sport for heroes, kings and warriors. I was dedicated to it. It was my life. One of them took it away."

The lights above the cybers dimmed, consigning them to the darkness again. "You can't blame them,” she said.

"No, I don't. I blame the man who used cybers in the combat arenas, disguised as normal men."

"Emperor Endrovar."

He snorted. "Emperor nothing, he's a thug."

"Oh, I know that."

"He was a mediocre fighter at best, and he couldn't beat me. I was the champion."

"So do you use your cybers to fight now?"

"No. I would never do that,” he replied. “It would be an insult to them. They are peerless fighting machines. I have nothing but respect for them."

"And you must be rich to own so many."

Tarvin inclined his head. "I am heir to Tor'Sharlin, rulers of the Estron System, masters of the combat creed of Sharlin, founder and master of high combat." He gestured to the shadows. "Him."

She glanced around in confusion. "Who?"

Tarvin touched the keypad, bringing up the lights over the cybers again. "Him."

"The cybers?"

"They are his clones."

"He's the man Myon Two cloned?"

"Yes,” Tarvin said. “He was the greatest fighter to ever live. The most perfect physique ever born; a peerless balance of size, weight, strength and speed, unrivalled agility and split second reflexes."

"So... you're related to them?"

"He was my ancestor. Sharlin vanished from this quadrant when he was only thirty-seven. Fortunately, he already had five sons. Everyone assumed he had gone in search of fresh challenges, and perhaps he did. How Myon Two got his body I don't know. Perhaps they killed him; perhaps he died some other way. After a cyber beat me, I bought one and tested his DNA. That's how I found out he was Sharlin."

"You don't look like them."

"No, but I'm told that my father did. He died when I was an infant, killed in a combat match that went awry through treachery. I look like my mother."

"Did you tell Myon Two who you are?" she asked.

"Yes, I travelled there after I found out. I demanded recompense for my injury and their use of my ancestor's DNA. That's why I have so many cybers. These are just the ones who are on duty in here. Myon Two sends me one every year. The best, according to them."

Tassin frowned. "But if this happened ten years ago..."

"Yes, well, when I travelled there, they gave me thirty as my compensation, so I now have forty-one."

"What happened in the fight?"

Tarvin smiled. "I hit him twice. I'm told that was unheard of. He moved like lightning. After about four seconds in the arena with him, I knew I was going to lose. But I had stubborn pride on my side. It was not a fight to the death, he had been ordered to defeat me. He hit me three times in the head, glancing blows, but I wouldn't stay down. Then he broke my arm, and my wrist. Still, I wouldn't stay down. Finally he broke my back. With one blow, like that." He snapped his fingers. "Like snapping a twig. The fight lasted thirteen minutes."

"You know they're not entirely human."

He nodded. "The people at Cybercorp told me. They cited it as a reason why they shouldn't have to pay compensation, but ninety-nine per cent of the DNA is human, and it's all Sharlin's."

"And do you know that they're aware?"

"No, according to Myon Two, they have no higher brain function. They're born like that, some sort of genetic change they made."

"They lied."

"Why do you say that?"

Tassin hesitated, toying with the idea of telling him the truth about Sabre, but then discarded it. Not now. "The man who was abducted with me, Tarl Averly, used to be a Myon Two repair tech until he discovered the truth. Their brain function is intact, they just have no control. They can hear, and think, and feel, and see a little, but they can't move or speak, the brow band controls that."

Tarvin stared at her for several moments. "Can he prove it?"

Again she hesitated. "I don't know."

"How does he know this, then?"

"He told me that once, when he was repairing a cyber who had been terribly burnt, and whose brow band was defunct, something to do with an electomagno... something..."

"Electromagnetic?"

"That's it. Something to do with that. He was thrown through a solar wing or something... Anyway, his brow band was off, and he – the host – spoke to Tarl, asked him to kill him, then he died."

He stared at her for what seemed like a full minute. "If that's true, it's barbaric."

"Yes, and if he's your ancestor, you can stop them."

Tarvin frowned at his drink. "I gave them permission to continue using Sharlin's DNA."

"Why?"

"Because my bloodline continues in them forever, and they honour my heritage. They are peerless fighters, respected all over the galaxy."

"And they suffer indescribable pain,” she said. “They're used for horrific purposes, torn apart by alien beasts -"

"I know. But they’re not Sharlin. He lived and died, and he cannot be reborn. This man Tarl, does Endrovar still have him?"

"Yes." She leant forward, intent. "Could you buy him?"

"I doubt he would be willing to sell him. A cyber tech would be extremely valuable to him."

"Tarl could tell you much more than I can."

"About what?" he asked.

"Cybers."

"I know all I need to, or want to."

"You seem unconcerned about what's being done to your ancestor's clones. Don't you care?"

He smiled. "It's not like I ever met him."

"Would you like to?"

"What do you mean by that?"

She paused once more, torn. "Wouldn't you like to meet a clone who wasn't controlled by a brow band?"

"That's impossible, I was told. And anyway, it wouldn't be Sharlin. His spirit has passed, this is only his flesh."

Tassin put down her empty glass, struck by a sudden thought. "Tarl might be able to help you."

"Help me? How?"

"Your injury. He might be able to fix it."

Tarvin snorted. "A nice thought, but impossible, I assure you. My spinal cord was sheared off, no hope of restoring it. I went to the best surgeons and specialists."

"But cybers have all sorts of abilities; they heal faster than normal, perhaps -"

"No." He put down his glass. "I think you'll find that even cybers can't regrow a spinal cord. I've heard of them breaking their backs, too."

"But Tarl -"

"Enough, please. I'm tired. Erron will show you to a room, where you can rest and bathe." He tapped the control pad, and the door slid open to admit the manservant, who bowed. "Show Tassin to a room and make sure she's comfortable," Tarvin instructed.

"At once, Sire."

Tassin froze in the act of standing up, turning to Tarvin. "You're a king?"

He smiled, his golden eyes gleaming in the light from the doorway. "Yes."

She stared at him, stunned.

Erron murmured, "This way, Miss."

She closed her mouth and swallowed. "But then... he's..." She gestured to the darkness where the cybers stood.

"He was High King Sharlin Stargane, ruler of the Estron System and the Stargarde Marches, fifteen solar systems on the Inner Rim. But that was a long time ago."

"That's why you can't..."

"He's a legend, and he's dead. Dead legends need to stay dead. If High King Sharlin returned, it would spark an interstellar war the likes of which has never been seen, and I'd venture to say even the Overlords could not stop."

She nodded, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

Erron gestured to the door again. "Please, Miss?"

Tassin followed him, her mind whirling, still struggling to grasp what she had learnt. Erron led her to a luxuriously furnished jade and gold suite with wardrobes full of clothes and an immense bathroom equipped with scented soaps and a multitude of lotions, salts and perfumes. Running a hot bath, she stripped off and soaked in it, thinking about what she had learnt and wondering at it. What were the chances, she mused, of meeting the man whose ancestor Myon Two had cloned, and who was, to all intents and purposes, Sabre’s descendant. Now she knew why she had always felt that he was noble. One could not get any nobler than a high king.