Read Online The Cyber Chronicles Book III - The Core by T C Southwell - Free Book Online

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?

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    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.