Free The Cyber Chronicles IX - Precipice by T C Southwell

blank. "Sabre."
    "What brings
you to this den of destruction?"
    "I want to talk
to you."
    The cyber
hefted a dumbbell and hurled it at the wall. It bounced off with a
clang, leaving a dent. "What about?"
    "Your penchant
for pandemonium?"
    "I'm angry."
Sabre hurled the second dumbbell.
    "I can
tell."
    The cyber
turned and strode towards her, and she backed away, bumping into
the wall. Reaching her, he slammed his hands on the wall on either
side her head with a terrific double bang, making her ears ring,
and she gasped.
    Sabre thrust
his face close to hers and bellowed, "I hate these feelings!"
    "I know, of
course you do, you don't understand them," she gabbled, her heart
doing a fandango in her throat.
    "I don't want
to understand them. I want them to go away!"
    "Well, they
won't. You're going to have to learn to deal with them."
    Sabre swung
away, walked a few paces and sank down in a heap, bowing his head.
Estrelle hesitated, then went over and knelt beside him. Sweat
sheened his skin and ran down his face, and his chest heaved. She
reached out to him, then snatched her hand back, recalling Martis'
warning. Sabre turned his head slightly, glaring at the floor.
    "Don't touch
me."
    He did not need
to look at her to see her, she knew. He was either using the
scanners or the optical inputs, and she wondered why. "Okay. But
you need human contact now more than ever. You need comfort."
    "Not from
you."
    "Then who?"
    He shook his
head. "Tassin."
    "We will find
her."
    "The chances of
that are -"
    "No, don't go
into machine mode on me now. I want to talk to the new Sabre, the
one who's just been unleashed from his cage."
    "The
beast."
    She nodded.
"Yes. The one with all those feelings, who doesn't know how to
cope."
    "I can't...
cope."
    "You can. We
all do it. I know what you're doing. You're venting, and on
inanimate objects, which is good, although if you carry on you'll
wreck the ship. Enough is enough."
    He raised
silver eyes filled with anguish. "I can make myself calm, but it
doesn't stop the shit in my head. This helps."
    "Yeah, it
would. Tell me what you're feeling."
    "Anger. Lots of
that. Hatred, for those smug bastards out there, who look at me
like I'm a deformed toad they just found in their shorts. And
others. I might never get her back, never find her again."
    "Despair."
    He nodded. "And
what must she be going through now? Is someone hurting her? Is she
all right?"
    "Anguish."
    "And why did
this happen? Why her? Why now?"
    "Bitterness."
    "I want her
back, more than anything. I want to see her again, hold her..." He
shook his head, bowing it again.
    "Love."
    "That I know.
I've felt it before, but not this strong."
    Estrelle edged
closer, shifting into a more comfortable position. His eyes
followed her movement, but he did not raise his head. Instinct told
her that if she touched him now, he would lash out, yet he did not
understand why.
    "You're also
finding it difficult to control yourself, aren't you?" she
asked.
    He nodded.
"You're not safe. You should leave."
    "Do you want to
hurt me?"
    "No."
    "But you think
you might?"
    He tilted his
head, looking away. "Say the wrong thing... or touch me, and I
think you'll be sorry."
    "Yeah, I think
I understand. You're an alpha male, dominance is part of your
nature, and right now I'm encroaching on your private pity
party."
    "You're playing
with fire."
    "But if I shut
up and go away, no one will help you. You have a right to some
self-pity. It's natural, you've been through hell, and now you're
going through more hell. You've lost that pure, logical reason that
the control unit gave you. That's got to be really shitty."
    "You have no
idea," he murmured.
    "Yeah, probably
not. I grew up with my feelings, and children throw tantrums before
they learn to deal with them, even adults get hysterical sometimes.
It can be overwhelming, so you're not alone."
    "I don't want
to be like this."
    "No, much
easier to feel nothing, to be numb and logical, cold and
analytical, untouched by ugly,