by Tony Attwood
Avon appeared relaxed, acknowledging the call and stating that he would be ready in one hour with instructions. He then ran at full speed to the flight deck, touched a dozen controls to bring Blake back on line and commanded a full report from the machine. A long series of numbers appeared on the main screen which Avon studied intently. To Vila they meant nothing; to Korell their importance became rapidly apparent. As the number sequence ended Avon turned and noticed Korell. 'That should make interesting reading for you, ' he said.
'It's the locations of the various items that you listed as essential for the building of the teleport. Half of them at least are not the slightest bit necessary. Why did you send them on a wild goose chase?'
'To find out where they got the items. '
'But you knew exactiy where they were available. '
'And so did they. At least they found out very quickly. And in some cases they went straight to Federation strongholds, removed substantial amounts of infinitely valuable materials and brought them back here. How did they know where to go? How did they manage to find what they wanted so quickly? How is it that there are no panic buttons being pushed on every single Federation planet within a hundred light years of here?'
'I presume, ' said Korell coolly, 'that those are rhetorical questions. '
'They are in as much as I know the possible answers. One is that they are allies of the Federation. Another is that they do have powers far beyond what we have yet imagined - powers to subdue whole planets with their sound waves for example, without the authorities knowing that anything untoward is happening. Or last, someone tipped off the Federation what was happening and the order was given to let the Ghammarans have their bits and pieces. Now which one is it?'
'What wonderful logical imponderables you do set up, ' Korell replied. 'You have no way of knowing as things stand, since you have two suspects and neither can verify or deny anything since you distrust both suspects. You daren't tell the Ghammarans how to build the teleport because you still don't trust them. You are also unsure of me, and yet if you decide I am the traitor you are still not sure if the Ghammarans can be trusted, even if they are not working for the Federation. ' She laughed out loud. 'This is the best yet. Avon, what are you going to do?'
Avon turned and let out a smile. Vila saw it, and leapt to the ground. Both Avon and Koreli turned to him in amazement. After a few seconds Vila raised his head slightly and looked up. Seeing that he was not threatened he rather sheepishly got to his feet. 'Sorry, ' he said. 'It's that smile of yours, Avon. Last time I saw you look that way you had just shot Blake. I thought it was going to start again. '
'You can relax, ' Avon told him. 'What Koreli says is true. She could be a spy in our midst, the Ghammarans could have great powers, or they could be working for the Federation. '
'So what will you do?'
'On Koreli, I reserve judgement. '
'Thank you Avon, ' she replied mockingly. 'Most magnanimous. '
'As for the Ghammarans, I think there should be a modification in procedure. ' He punched the controls in front of his position and the leading Representative of the Ghammarans came on the screen. 'There has to be a slight change of plan, ' Avon said. 'I shall build the teleport here on Revenge. '
There were no objections from below. 'Send up a ship, ' Avon continued, 'with all the materials on board. It can dock with us and we shall transfer everything into the hold. '
The Ghammaran agreed instantly and happily. Shortly, a ship took off from the surface carrying the materials. Docking and offloading went without a hitch and Avon was left to work on the teleport project. If the Ghammarans harboured any concern about Avon's change of plan they showed not the slightest sign.
Once more with time on his hands Vila conversed with the now liberated Blake. The computer's view was that the lack of concern from the planet below was not surprising. They could have no knowledge that KAT was able to counteract their operations and so would feel safe to let Avon continue his work. 'But, ' added Blake, 'there is one thing you should know. With the equipment Avon has and the knowledge he has of teleport, (which although virtually unparalleled is none the less limited) it will take him around four and a half years to construct even a working model. Then assuming that no faults are discovered in the model system it will take a further three years to develop a full scale operating teleport. '
Long before Blake's convoluted sentence had ended Vila had spat his drink out in surprise.
'Do the Ghammarans know this?'
'Probably. '
'And... '
'And they are prepared to wait. If they do believe they have the Revenge and its crew captured then they have all the time in the world. They can leave us up here, forget about us if need be and carry on with their normal day to day activity. '
'Is Avon really building a teleport then?'
'Yes. But that does not appear to be his main priority. '
'What is he building then?'
'That I cannot determine. But between us we could solve the problem, Vila. '
There was a change in the machine's voice that made Vila uneasy as Blake continued. 'Simply go into the hold where he is working and observe. Then come back and let me know what is going on. I will then deduce the solution. '
Reluctantly Vila agreed. He started making his way through the narrow corridors of the ship towards the hold when a sudden thought struck him. He touched an intercom pad on the wall. 'Blake, there are computer monitors throughout the ship. Why don't you monitor Avon yourself?'
'Avon has turned the monitors in the hold off to stop me observing. He is becoming dangerously secretive. I must know what is going on. For the safety of the ship, Vila. '
Vila let go the pad and walked on towards the hold. The main door refused to open to his touch command. He banged on it and shouted for Avon.An opening appeared just wide enough to let Vila enter. All around him was electrical circuitry, computer panels and silicon wiring. It was difficult for Vila to make any sense of the mess: virtually the whole floor was covered.
Avon looked at Vila impassively. 'Yes?' he asked.
'Er, I just came down to make sure you were all right. '
'Very kind Vila, yes I am. '
'Good. Nothing I can do for you?'
'Yes. '
'What?'
'Go away. '
Vila did as he was told, taking a final look round but knowing it was going to be impossible to give a true impression of what the room was like. It had also struck him that the deal with KAT meant he was going to have to go without access to the finer liquids of fife for seven years.
Blake however was able to make more of it than Vila had guessed. As Vila described the mess and confusion the machine disengaged other functions, analysing the information and comparing it with existing data. At the conclusion it gave a courteous 'Thank you Vila, ' before apparently shutting down. Vila however was not so easily appeased. He demanded an answer. After a moment the machine condescended to reply. 'Avon is up to something Vila, but I need time to consider his actions, and the materials he is using. I will report back to you as soon as I possibly can. '
10
Vila awoke with a start. KAT was talking to him. He thought about that for a moment. The machine's behaviour seemed to be getting more and more odd each day. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. KAT was still speaking; Vila decided to listen. The machine was chattering about directions. That seemed odd too. Vila took a leap into the unknown and opened his eyes. It didn't take long - at least not very long - to realise that something was wrong. Lights were flashing on Blake's console that should never have been flashing, unless they were in low orbit about to land. But they weren't. They were in high orbit. Vila checked the data on the screens in front of him and swallowed hard. They were about to land.
'Blake, abort landing. Take us into orbit again, ' he shouted.
'No, ' replied Blake unexpectedly. 'We must land. '
'What do you mean, no? Take us into orbit, ' co
mmanded Vila.
'Avon is building a machine that will destroy this ship, and trick you, ' said Blake. 'We must go to the Ghammarans for help. '
For once Vila acted with a certain degree of efficiency. He pressed the ship's intercom and called Korell and Avon to the main control room. Then he turned to KAT. 'Can you override Blake?' he asked.
'Sir, I can, and indeed Sir I shall be delighted to have the opportunity, ' said KAT, 'but I regret Sir, that I cannot fly the ship. That is why Sir, I sought to wake you. '
Korell and Avon emerged into the control room at full speed. 'Korell take the controls, ' Vila shouted. 'KAT take over from Blake. 'The surprise on Korell's face at being given firm orders from Vila barely had time to register before there was a sharp jolt as KAT relieved Blake of its responsibilities. Carefully she eased the ship back through the atmosphere. As she did so Blake began transmitting sounds of a type they could all remember.
'KAT, block out the sound, ' called Avon with hands firmly planted on ears.
Within an instant Blake was silent, and the ship continued its climb. 'When you get up there head into deep space, reference 99 37 81. No orbit, just keep going. '
For a while there was no conversation. Blake had relinquished all controls of the ship, including life support. KAT worked overtime reinstituting fail-safe procedures that the master computer had disengaged. All airlocks were sealed and much of Revenge depressurised, but the ship was maintained in working order. Avon made adjustments to Blake to bring back in basic controls whilst keeping higher functions off line. As the crisis lessened, Avon turned on Vila. 'And what the hell were you up to during all that?' he shouted. Vila was taken aback. He felt he needed praise not criticism for rescuing the ship, and feigned ignorance of any guilt.
Avon spoke rapidly and quietly. 'Vila you were left on watch, two and a half hours ago. Then suddenly Koreli and I are called in to find the ship about to land and the only apparent solution to the crisis being to shut down the master computer. I would have thought that even you would recognise the need for some sort of explanation. '
Vila admitted guilt only in terms of a brief snooze. 'When I woke up Blake had gone crazy. It said it was taking us in to land because you were endangering the ship. '
'And I suppose you took it upon yourself to tell that broken down heap you call Blake what was going on in the hold. Didn't it strike you as worth noting that I had shut down all the links between the computer and the lower regions of the ship?'
'All right all right Avon. Why don't you just tell me what
you are up to instead of playing games all the time? Hasn't it ever struck you that by letting me know a few more things we might end up in fewer jams?'
'If I thought it safe to tell you I would, ' said Avon.
'Vila's got a point though, ' said Koreli. 'If he had had more information from you he would have been less likely to believe whatever lies Blake was making up. '
Avon calmed down slightly and asked for a report on Blake's actions. Vila gave a quick run down, causing Koreli to frown.
'That makes little sense Avon, ' she said. 'Unless Blake was passing all the information back to Ghammar and awaiting instructions. That would mean that the Ghammarans were letting you get on with the work whilst interfering with Blake. But why? They knew that as soon as you got firm evidence of their treachery you would refuse to work for them. '
'None of this makes any sense, ' Vila said sadly. It seemed to be his reflection upon the whole human race, and most alien races too.
'No sense at all, ' said Koreli, 'unless you assume that Avon wasn't building a teleport after all. '
Vila's eyes brightened. 'That's right Avon. Blake said that it would take seven years to build a teleport. I can't see you happily working on your own for seven years. '
'Well now, you've both worked it out so well this far, are you going to tell me what I was doing?' There was no smile on Avon's face. He was tiring of the game, but still unwilling to disclose any more bits of information.
'It could have something to do with Terminal. '
Avon was for once impressed. He turned to Vila in complete surprise.
'I checked out the list of places we were heading for before the Ghammarans got in the way. The only one that I recognised was Terminal. But why you want to go there is beyond me. '
'Is anyone going to let me in on the secret?' asked Koreli.Vila gave a rapid explanation. 'Avon took us there on one of his previous wild goose chases. It was while we were on Liberator, and he wouldn't tell us what he was up to then either, just kept talcing the ship towards the planet, even to the extent of flying straight through a cloud of space liquid which totally destroyed the ship. He thought he was chasing Roj Blake, but it was just a trap by Servalan. She caught us, the ship was destroyed and it was only a brilliant move at the last moment by me that saved Orac. '
'So is it Terminal again?'
'Yes. '
'What was the reason that you went there last time?'
'To find Blake, as Vila said. '
'But that never made sense, ' said Vila. 'The chances of Blake really being there and sending the messages about having found some vast store of wealth was so unlikely it couldn't be true. And it doesn't make sense for the man who always claims to be so logical and clear in his actions. '
'So my guess, ' said Korell, 'is that yet again it has something to do with MIND. Your continual return to it is walking proof MIND exists. You are suffering from machine induced neural deviance. '
There was a tense pause. Avon stood up and paced up and down the flight deck. Neither Vila nor Korell risked speaking for fear of deflecting Avon from an explanation. Eventually they got it. 'I took Liberator to Terminal because of the message that seemed to come from Blake. But I also held the suspicion that MIND was involved. And having discovered Terminal was involved I could see a possible use for the planet. Now the question of MIND does not arise any more, but I can still see a use for Terminal. '
'How do we know that MIND is not involved?' asked Korell.
'Because MIND is a myth, just like Blake's 7. If you listen to people on the fringes of the Federation, or the common herd in down and out Federation colonies you'll hear stories of the gallant Roj Blake and his merry men, dedicated to freeing the inner and outer worlds from slavery, working for each other selflessly, killing only when necessary. But the truth was totally different. There was virtually no agreement about anything on Liberator, and Blake rapidly turned into a homicidal maniac willing to kill a hundred million people that he would call innocent. The same is true of MIND. The things MIND is supposed to have done are prolific. I investigated MIND fully on Liberator, and got Orac to check out hundreds of supposed actions of MIND. Anything that could relieve the tedium of life with Vila and Tarrant was worth looking at. But Orac found just a jumble of half stories and quarter truths. There is no MIND. '
'But amid all those half stories there were still enough to keep you looking, ' said Korell. 'There was always the unexplained event, the possibility that even if the common herd were making up stories about MIND in order to give greater excitement to their mundane lives, somewhere something like MIND did exist. So you kept looking. So it is no good you now saying that the messages that you got which took you to Terminal the first time didn't come from MIND. If you followed a story that far it must have been more than one of the pathetic inventions from a Federation colony. '
'But it was a trick of Servalan's, ' Vila told Korell. 'Avon fell for it and we lost everything. '
'Well now, ' said Avon characteristically turning and looking straight at Vila, 'you would have seen through it all I suppose. '
'I saved Orac, ' said Vila defensively.
'But now you want us to go back to Terminal?' asked Korell. 'And you are saying it still has nothing at all to do with MIND. So what is so special about Terminal that you want to go back?'
But Avon had tired of the inquisition. 'Blake has enough capability back on line to give you a run down of
that. Why don't you ask?' And with that Avon retired once more to the hold. As he did Vila touched two controls but nothing
happened. Blake still had no access to that part of the ship. *No matter what Koreli had learned from Blake on the subject of Terminal, nothing really prepared her for the vision that presented itself on the screen as the ship moved into the fifth sector. The planet was grotesquely elongated rather than rounded. 'It was man made?' she asked Vila as she watched the object on the screen. Vila nodded glumly. He knew what was down there. 'So why did they build it in that shape?'
'Avon said they should go back to the drawing board when he was down there last time, ' said Vila. 'Why not ask him about it? He's the one with the fixation on the place. ' But Avon was not available for comment. He alternated between the hold where he continued to work on the materials provided by the Ghammarans, and his cabin where he grabbed short snatches of sleep.
'And it was originally put in orbit near Mars?'
Vila nodded again.
'So what is it doing here?'
'Running away?'
'And you say that evolution has been speeded up a millionfold to produce monsters called Links?'
Vila became more forthcoming. 'According to Servalan they are what mankind will become. Our descendants. '
'How did she know that?'
'How do I know?'
'Haven't you ever wondered?'
'The only wondering I've done is how to avoid going back down there. When we came here before we were eaten by space fluid, attacked by Links, ambushed by Servalan, beaten by Federation guards, Cally was killed, Avon seemed to be constantly out of his mind and we were eventually caught by a madman who wanted to feed us to his alter ego. Are you surprised I'm not excited by the prospect of a return?'
'Knowing you, Vila, ' said Koreli kindly, 'No. But I'm still struck by the number of questions that hang over the place. The data in Blake's memory concerning it is very out of date. It was built by a consortium of business interests as a sort of experiment to help develop faster food production but none of the records record what happened, why it moved, how it moved, or anything. '