Chapter Five

 

Tarl was waiting for Sabre when he emerged from the shower with a towel draped around his neck and another wrapped around his hips. The suite Fairen had assigned to him was sumptuous, comprising a massive lounge, bedroom and bathroom that would have put a planetary palace to shame. Deep crimson carpet cushioned his feet, and the bathroom fixtures were gold, as was the frame of the crystal-topped coffee table in the lounge. Recessed lighting cast a warm pink glow on pale rose walls and white leather sofas. Cloth-of-gold curtains framed the oval screens, which gave a view of deep space. Tassin was housed in the adjoining suite, and had gone there when he had told her he was going to have a shower. The technician looked determined.

Sabre eyed him. "What do you want?"

"To see your injuries."

Sabre went over to the velvet-covered four-poster bed, where his clothes were laid out. "I suppose you also want my bio-status and a systems check?"

"No, just to check your injuries."

"There's nothing you can do. They're just burns."

"Then they need ointment, but first I need to see how bad they are." He approached the cyber, who kept his back turned and picked up his vest. Tarl added, "Hey, I'm only trying to help, okay? Fairen did his bit and Tassin did hers. This is what I do."

Sabre looked down at the vest. "So you consider yourself part of the support team, huh? In the field of technical expertise, I suppose?"

"No, I'm your friend."

Sabre dropped the vest and raised his head, staring at the far wall. "Why do you think I need to be constantly reminded of that? Do you think I'm so stupid I've forgotten your claim of friendship?"

"It's not a claim, it's a fact, and I only remind you of it when you spout that bitter crap."

Sabre turned to face him. "Bitter? Is that what I am?"

"Amongst other things. I understand, but it's about time you got over it. I've proven time and time again that I want to help, and what I once was has nothing to do with what I am now."

"No, you're still a cyber tech. You always will be. But hey, you're my bud, and I shouldn't compare you to the sadistic bastard who did this to me on the enforcer ship, should I?"

Tarl shook his head, looking wary. "No, you shouldn't. What did he do?"

Sabre pulled the towel off his neck, revealing the red marks on his chest.

Tarl stepped closer, frowning. "Laser burns. Why did they do this?"

"To test my new immunity to fire. He found it quite fascinating, and gave demonstrations. I'm surprised he didn't sell tickets."

"Why don't you ask Fairen if you can decide his punishment?"

"I think Fairen is probably better at meting out justice."

Tarl examined the burns. "Clearly you're not immune to fire. Two of these are third degree."

"It took six seconds for a full power laser beam to do that." Sabre pointed to one of the red marks. "This was three seconds. This one was five."

"What were you doing while this was happening?"

"Pretending to be under cyber control."

Tarl grimaced. "So that's why the lights on the brow band indicate that it's in control again."

"Do they? I guess I forgot to tell it to return to the correct configuration."

Sabre glanced inwards at the cyber's information and commanded it. From Tarl's expression, he knew that the lights on the control unit flashed and turned red, save for a few green ones, as it had been before.

Tarl nodded. "I'll fetch ointment and dressings for those." He swung away and headed for the door.

"Tarl."

The technician stopped, his shoulders hunched, and turned. "Yeah?"

"Did you ever do anything like this?"

"God, no. I was in repairs, not research and development." He hesitated, frowning at the floor. "The things I did were bad enough, but they were done to heal injured cybers, and I didn't know it hurt them."

"Do you know a man called Grundel?"

"Yeah, he was in research and development. Rude bastard. I never liked him. Was he...?"

"Yeah."

Tarl headed for the door again. "I'll get the ointment."

Sabre donned his cyber issue trousers and boots while he was alone, then settled on the couch in the lounge to wait for Tarl to return. The technician dumped his bag on the coffee table and took out a tube of ointment and two dressings he had evidently made for the worst burns. Sabre stood up so he could smear the ointment on, and Tarl concentrated on the task, avoiding the cyber's gaze.

"Do you want a painkiller?" he enquired.

"No." Sabre cocked his head. “I could do this perfectly well myself, you know.”

Tarl nodded. “I know. I want to be useful, okay?”

“Performing a task I can do myself isn’t being useful. More like desperate for something to do.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve made it my mission to look after you. This time it’s just burns, next time it could be something you can’t do yourself, and there might not be medics around. I’m sure you don’t want Tassin to have to do it, do you?”

“No. She didn’t enjoy it when she had to do it on Omega Five.”

A short silence fell, and then Tarl asked, "Why do you still wear these clothes? I would have thought you'd hate them."

Sabre shrugged. "They're comfortable, tough and functional."

"Don't they remind you of what you were?"

"No more so than the scars, or the brow band. It's not something that's easily forgotten."

"No, but I'd have thought you'd want less reminders, not more."

"When I can get rid of the scars and the brow band, I'll stop wearing the clothes."

Tarl stuck a dressing onto one of the third-degree burns. "I think Tassin will want you to wear something different when you get back to Omega Five."

"The last time she dressed me up in fancy clothes, I split the trousers."

"That must have been fun." Tarl chuckled.

"It was fairly embarrassing."

Tarl stuck the second dressing on. "What else did Grundel do to you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I want to pay him a visit, and I'd like to know how badly to beat him."

Sabre smiled and raised his brows. "I'd like to see that."

"You're invited."

Sabre looked down and fingered the dressings. "He was trying to figure out how the shiny girls gave me control of the cyber unit. He ran a bunch of tests while I was paralysed, then he boosted the control unit's power and tried to shock me into submission so the cyber could take control again."

Tarl sprayed a layer of plastic skin over the second-degree burns and tossed the can back into his bag. "That should do it."

He turned away, but Sabre caught his shoulder and yanked him back. "What are you feeling right now?"

Tarl frowned. "Angry."

"Why?"

"Because of what that bastard did to you."

"You hide it well,” Sabre said. “That's the sort of thing I'd expect from Tassin, not you."

"Tassin loves you... and so do I."

Tarl’s bald statement surprised Sabre, who tilted his head with a smile.

"Don't get me wrong,” Tarl added, “I'm talking about brotherly love, bud. Good friends feel it too. It's just different."

"I'm glad to hear it. So I should feel it for you as well?"

"I'd like you to, but it's not... something I'd expect from you. Not yet, anyway. I'd say it's probably a little harder for you."

Sabre nodded, releasing him. "I'm not sure how I feel about you. Sometimes I think I still hate you."

"You're conflicted. That's normal. I represent all that you hate, yet I'm your friend."

"Do you think my feelings are real, or imaginary?"

"Oh, they're real," Tarl assured him. "Did they tell you that you weren't capable of true emotions?"

"Yeah."

"They're lying bastards. I hope Fairen condemns the whole lot of them."

Sabre picked up his vest and pulled it on. "It wasn't Grundel who told me that, it was his commander. Grundel didn't want to talk to me at all."

"No, he wouldn't.”

The cyber looked Tarl up and down, amused by the prospect of the mild-tempered, middle-aged tech trying to beat someone up. It should prove to be entertaining, he thought, and he was curious to see it. "Come on, let's go and see him."

"We're supposed to meet Fairen for drinks in his suite."

Sabre headed for the door. "This won't take long."

It took almost half an hour of tramping along apparently endless stretches of black, velvet-lined corridors and two trips in high-speed lifts into the bowels of the ship to find the place where Fairen kept his prisoners. The Scorpion Ship was extremely well maintained, Sabre noted, and its interior bore no sign of wear and tear, despite its age. That was not really surprising, with its population of over a hundred and fifty thousand, quite a few of whom, he guessed, worked on maintenance crews. The two black and red-uniformed guards outside the confinement area eyed Tarl and Sabre when they arrived, having found their way through the massive ship with directions from various crewmen.

"We want to see the prisoners," Tarl said.

"Do you have Overlord Fairen's permission?" one guard asked.

Tarl glanced at Sabre. "He'll give it."

"But he must be consulted."

"Then do it."

The guard went over to a communications link on the wall, keyed it and spoke into it. A few minutes passed before it beeped, and he listened to the reply.

He faced them once more. "Overlord Fairen gives his permission, but he will be joining you. You must wait."

Sabre smiled. "He doesn't like to miss anything, does he?"

Ten minutes later, Fairen arrived, accompanied by Commander Shrain, Cyber Two and four soldiers. The guards bowed low, as did Tarl.

Fairen's vivid eyes sparkled with excitement, and he cast Sabre an accusing look. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to confront your tormentors?"

"It wasn't my idea. Tarl wants a word with the technician."

Fairen looked at Tarl. "Just to talk to him?"

"No."

"Ah. Good, let's go in." Fairen donned his veiled hood and led them past the sentries into a long corridor lined with glass-fronted cells, where another guard patrolled. He stepped aside and bowed as Fairen swept past, and the Overlord led them to a cell at the far end of the passage. Sabre recognised Commander Barrin, Grundel, and the two technicians who had been in the examination room. The other three were strangers. The door slid aside at Fairen's gesture, and Tarl entered the cell, Sabre following. Grundel, who sat on the bench at the back of the room, stood up, eyeing Sabre with deep unease.

Tarl approached him, drawing his attention. "Don't worry about him. He's not going to do anything to you. It's me you should be concerned about, Grundel."

Grundel looked him up and down. "Tarl Averly, isn't it? Repair tech?"

"That's right. I'm surprised you remember my name; you R and D guys were always so damned snooty."

"What do you want?"

"To give you what you so richly deserve, and I so want to dish out. For what you did to my friend. The shocks and burns. The humiliation, too." Tarl glanced at Commander Barrin, whose silver-trimmed uniform indicated his rank. "Although your commander had more to do with that."

"You're the traitor. The one who sabotaged fifty-seven artificial wombs."

"That's right."

Grundel glanced at Sabre. "You call him your friend?"

"Yeah, and he's a better man than the whole lot of you put together."

"I see he's freed himself again. Or did you help?"

"He was never under cyber control," Tarl said.

"So, you've come to show him how much you care? Trying to win him over?"

Tarl snorted. "I wasn't going to make it a public occasion, but it seems they all want to watch."

"And you think I'm just going to let you beat me up?"

"I hope not."

Grundel noticed Fairen's hooded figure in the corridor and bowed. "Forgive me, My Lord, I did not see you there."

The rest of the prisoners shuffled back and bowed, and Fairen tucked his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe. Grundel hesitated, then added, "Are you going to permit violence against your prisoners, My Lord?"

"Yes."

Grundel stared at him, clearly disappointed by his monosyllabic answer. "This hardly seems like justice. What about a trial?"

"Your guilt is not in question."

"But how can we be punished for following orders? Surely the guilty ones are the men who gave us the order to capture the rogue cyber?"

"I am not going to debate this with you. You knew you were disobeying me when you captured him."

Tarl stepped forward. "And I didn't come here to argue with you, either."

Grundel turned his attention to the ex-cyber tech again. "So you're resorting to violence, as he would." He nodded at Sabre.

"He's not the one threatening you, is he? That just shows how little you know about him."

Grundel eyed Sabre, who sighed, folded his arms and leant against the wall. "I'm sure he finds it fascinating that you, a cyber technician and a free man, would want to harm another on his behalf."

"Why don't you ask him?"

Grundel shook his head. "I'm not interested in the inner workings of a cyber host's mind."

"You should be. You would find it amazingly similar to a free man's."

"Who are you trying to fool, him or yourself? Or perhaps both? You'd do anything to prove your stupid theory, even to the extent of convincing that poor dolt he could ever pass for human."

Tarl punched Grundel on the chin and sent him staggering back into the officers behind him, who caught and steadied him. Tarl grimaced and wrung his hand, cursing. Grundel rubbed his jaw, then advanced on Tarl, raising his fists. Tarl did the same, and the two squared off, eyeing each other. Grundel took a swing at Tarl, hit him on the cheek and knocked him sideways. He ducked under Grundel's next swing and punched him in the solar plexus. Grundel doubled over with a coughing grunt. Tarl followed up his advantage, punching Grundel in the ribs. Grundel kicked him in the shin, making him grunt and hop.

 

 

Sabre watched the fight with growing amusement, marvelling at their ineptitude. Clearly the cyber techs possessed some rudimentary fighting skills, probably learnt as a pastime, but neither could be called a fighter. They did manage to inflict bruises on each other, and a well-aimed blow from Tarl bloodied Grundel's nose. The rest of the officers moved back to give the combatants more room, and they continued to circle and punch.

A touch on his elbow made him glance around at Tassin as she slipped her arm through his, gazing at the fight with amazement.

"I was told there was a fight here, but I thought it was you."

"A logical conclusion, but wrong, for a change."

"What on earth is Tarl doing?"

"Fighting?"

She snorted. "I meant, why is he fighting that man?"

"That's the cyber tech from the enforcer ship. Tarl wants to beat him up for injuring me."

"How noble of him. Who's winning?"

Sabre shrugged. "Neither, at the moment."

Tassin winced as Grundel landed a hefty blow on Tarl's chin, sending him reeling back. Grundel followed it up with two punches to Tarl's midriff, doubling him over. Tarl gaped for air, and Grundel hit him on the side of the head, spinning him around, then kicked him, sending him staggering into the wall.

Sabre sighed. "Now Tarl's losing."

Grundel kicked Tarl’s leg, buckling it, and he went down on one knee. Fairen turned his head towards Sabre, his silent question obvious. Grundel kicked Tarl in the face, sending him sprawling, and then booted him in the ribs. Tarl tried to get up, but Grundel kicked him again, knocking him flat. Sabre pushed himself away from the wall, slipping from Tassin's grasp. Grundel was intent on his fallen foe, kicking him again and again as Tarl curled into a defensive ball.

Sabre closed the gap in a few strides, and Grundel whipped around as the officers behind him shouted a warning. Grundel's face went slack with terror as Sabre grabbed him under the arms, lifted him and hurled him against the wall. His knees buckled when his feet hit the floor, and he sprawled. The cyber bent and gripped his neck, dragged him back to his feet and pinned him to the wall. Sabre thrust his face close to the technician's.

"It's not nice to kick a man when he's down."

Grundel choked, clawing at Sabre's fingers, his face reddening. Sabre watched him for a moment, then released him and stepped back. Grundel slumped to the floor, clasped his neck and gasped. Tarl sat up, rubbed his ribs and scowled at Grundel. Sabre approached and held out his hand. The ex-tech hesitated before he took it, and Sabre pulled him to his feet and gave him a slap on the back that made him cough and stagger.

"You're a lousy fighter, Tarl. You should spar with me; I'll teach you a few tricks."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

Sabre shrugged, smiling. "I've never seen anything so pathetic."

"Hey, I'm not a trained fighter, okay?"

"Neither is he."

"He got lucky."

"Yeah, right." Sabre chuckled. "It was amusing, anyway."

Tarl glared at Grundel. "I haven't finished with him yet."

The ex-technician headed back into the fray. Sabre turned in surprise, caught Tarl's arm and yanked him back. "I think you've had enough."

"Well he hasn't."

Sabre glanced at Grundel, who sneered at Tarl, the expression vanishing when he noticed Sabre’s attention. Tarl tried to jerk free of Sabre's grip, but the cyber hung on, shaking his head.

"You're both pathetic fighters, but he's better than you."

"I don't care. I got in a few good hits, and I'm going to get in a few more before I'm finished with him."

"What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothing." Tarl hesitated. "Okay, maybe this is something I wish you'd do, but I know you won't. Why don't you want revenge? You should."

"He's just a man. I killed one like him, but not for what his kind did to me. He hurt Tassin."

"Why didn't you do it for yourself?"

Sabre frowned. "I don't matter."

Tarl groaned, shaking his head. "Of course you bloody matter. You have every right to take revenge."

"Are you trying to turn him into a psychopath?" Grundel demanded.

"You stay out of it!" Tarl tried to jerk free of Sabre again and failed, turning to him. "Why don't you matter, huh? Tell me."

"I just don't, okay? What good would it do? Do you think it would make me feel better to be as cruel and sadistic as him?"

Tarl stared at him. "Do you think I'm cruel and sadistic to want to hurt him for what he did to you?"

"No. I don't know. Did you enjoy it?"

"Hell yeah! He deserved it!"

Sabre nodded. "Good. I'm glad you did, but I wouldn't have."

"What if he'd done what he did to you, to Tassin? Would you have wanted to hurt him then?"

"I'd have killed him then, like I killed Previd."

"So why won't you do it for yourself? Why is your suffering unimportant?"

Sabre shrugged. "It always has been."

"Ha!" Tarl barked, looking furious. "That's your conditioning! Dig deeper. Find the rage and hatred you've been bottling up for years."

Grundel asked, "Are you insane? What the hell are you trying to do?"

"Give him back some of his pride. The pride you and your kind took away by enslaving and humiliating him all his life. By teaching him that he was nothing but a biological machine to be used, whose feelings didn't count. This is what you did to him. He doesn't even think he deserves the right to take revenge." Tarl turned to Sabre and gave him a shove. "You hate me for being an ex-cyber tech. Don't you hate him, too?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You're always shoving me around. Why don't you shove him around a bit? It might make you feel better."

Sabre released Tarl's wrist and gripped his collar, yanked him closer and glared into his eyes. "Because I would kill him. And that wouldn't make me feel good at all."

Tarl's fury appeared to drain away, and he nodded, looking ashamed. "Okay. You're right, damn you. I just wanted you to stick up for yourself for once. But I guess it's hard to control yourself."

"I'm not a vengeful man. I discovered recently that I can shove you around, because I like you. You can goad me till you're blue in the face, and I can just bounce you off a wall. You taught me that. But there's a line I mustn't cross, because then I'll become the thing I hate most of all... a killer." Sabre released Tarl and tugged his rumpled jacket straight. "And that, I'm not."

"But you are," Grundel sneered. "One day, when you find that the life you want as a man will never be, all that rage and hatred is going to come out, and you'll kill."

Sabre turned to face him. "If that happens, I'll be sure to travel to Myon Two and do it where it will do the most good."

 

 

Grundel blanched, and Tarl charged the portly man and sent him sprawling. Straddling him, Tarl rained blows on Grundel's face. The technician raised his arms, and Tarl punched him in the ribs several times. When he was satisfied that Grundel had had enough, he rose and glanced at Sabre, who gazed at Grundel with something akin to pity in his eyes. Most of the spectators looked satisfied and some appeared dispassionate, but no one else showed the slightest compassion for Grundel's plight.

Approaching Sabre, Tarl asked, "Why is it that you're the only person here who pities that bastard, even after what he did to you?"

"Because I know what that feels like."

"Most of us do, but we don't pity him. He deserved it."

"Then you have harder hearts than I do."

Tarl nodded. "So it would seem, bud. You're a better man than any of us here."

Sabre shrugged headed for the door. "I think we've had enough amusement at Grundel's expense for today."