Blake's 7 - 04 - Afterlife

by Tony Attwood

  'No, that is not enough, ' said Avon. 'The plan could be discovered at any moment. We stay. This time we will see it through. I will not be defeated again. '

  Vila gave up the argument for the moment and turned back to the screen. The fleets were getting closer; engage—

  ments of the three-sided battle began as Yardynn's Federation ships moved carefully in against Servalan's small fleet, and were simultaneously engaged on their other flank by the troops of the Administration. Both battles were remarkably short. Despite their vastly inferior numbers Servalan's forces exterminated much of the Federation fleet, suffering few losses in the process. Meanwhile the Administration and Federation seemed to be totally ineffective against each other.

  'Servalan's nefarious arms dealing must have been even more extensive than we imagined, ' observed Koreli. 'The Administration and Yardynn can't hurt each other with disintegrating weaponry, and Servalan can just walk in. We should warn the Administration of what is happening, before you go to Earth. '

  'I would think, ' said Avon carefully, 'that even a commander of the most limited intelligence on Earth would be able to guess that his troops' weapons are proving useless, as are the Federation's, whilst Servalan's forces are being able to walk through unharmed. Unless of course the commander was Vila. '

  'But we can't just let Servalan take over the whole of the Galaxy, ' protested Vila.

  'Servalan will have better things to do than reconstruct the entire banking system of the Federation. And even if she knows that the funds have been diverted illegally she will still do nothing. We carry on - the diversion of a revolution will only strengthen our hand by diverting forces away from conventional law enforcement. And never forget, whoever wins out of those three forces will have an overriding desire for expansion and power. To achieve that they need an active banking system. Koreli and I will go to Earth in Revenge, you stay inside Terminal. ' There was a long pause. It seemed that Avon had made his final pronouncement, but he had one more thing to say. 'And Vila... '

  Vila looked up. He had a feeling this could be important.

  'Don't let any of the creatures in. '

  'Creatures!' Vila was suddenly worried. 'I'd forgotten about them. What happens if they mutate into something

  that can pick locks?'

  'Don't worry, ' replied Avon, 'I doubt if even this planet contains DNA stupid enough to produce a generation of Vilas. '

  Korell's flying of Revenge through the three-sided battle would have been recognised as an excellent piece of strategic manoeuvering if anyone other than Korell, Avon and Vila had seen it. Viewed from the galactic plain she would have appeared to be flying straight up away from the sun and its family of planets. The effect was to take Revenge out of the body of the action whilst Servalan's ships now pressed in hard from the orbit of Neptune, sizing up for a major battle with the Administration forces. The Administration in turn took up positions in and out of the moons of Saturn; a clever move which gave them an advantage of detailed knowledge of some very tricky terrain, plus the possibility of being able to use craft which could fly in and out of some of the smaller satellites and even hide behind the tilt of the rings. Servalan, with her fleet fully committed, found herself without suitable craft for such encounters and was forced to hold her troops back, awaiting developments.

  For Avon and Korell, Saturn was never anything more than a barely visible dot as they gently manoeuvered towards Earth. Approaching from above they gave regular warnings of their position, their mission (Financial Advisors to the planet Skat in the Third quadrant, as Avon had described themselves in his dealing with the Administration) and stressed also that they were summoned to appear before the Finance Computer Complex F-7 on Earth on conventional loan matters. As Avon had predicted the Administration was only too pleased to have civilians coming and going about their ordinary business whilst they dealt with a 'little difficulty elsewhere' as it was described to the local populace. And as he also pointed out if anyone thought that something strange was going on the first thing they would do would be to send a scout ship to Skat, which

  should slow down the enquiry somewhat. Landing on Earth was equally easy. They were of course diverted away from all the main installations to a Dome situated by a huge seaway in the northern hemisphere, known as the Scandin Terminal. Such a location discouraged anyone from taking a forbidden walk outside the Domes, especially as the hemisphere was currently in winter. The icy winds blew continuously from the north, and the sea was frozen solid from shore to horizon. Civilisation could only survive with environmental protection.

  A covered companionway came out to the ship's docking hatch and matched up with its size. Avon left Korell on the ship and walked the five hundred yards of corridor that took him back onto his native planet for the first time in five years. For a moment he let his normally controlled mind wander. He had left the planet a prisoner, seemingly doomed to spend the rest of his life in exile on some forsaken outer world inhabited entirely by criminals. From that point he had risen to become one of the most famous individuals in the Galaxy, representing a revolution he never believed in to people he never wanted to meet. Blake, the man who fought for the revolution, who had left Earth in the same transporter as Avon, and who had vowed as he left that one day he would return, had never made it back apart from in a futile raid on a non-existent computer centre, and ended up dying half way across the Galaxy on a planet little better than the one to which he had been transported.

  As he crossed the gangway into the reception area Avon pulled himself back together. That brief reminiscence had cleared his mind. He would, of course, never admit it had happened. It would probably not happen again for another five years. He was ready.

  The empty reception room was too warm for comfort. The walls were bare apart from speaker and viewing grilles placed ten feet apart just below the ceiling. 'Place your identification cards in the deposit box. ' The computer voice was emotionless and cold. Avon moved across the room and did as commanded, placing the seven cards on a white plate. After a moment the voice returned. 'Remove the cards. ' Avon obeyed.

  'Move into the next room. ' A door slid open and Avon proceeded through. The room into which he entered was just as bare as the first save for some chairs. He sat on one and waited, concentrating his mind on the task ahead whilst reviewing the series of calculated guesses he had been forced to make, including the ones relating to Koreli, and what she would do on Revenge in his absence.

  Vila meanwhile was having little time to wonder. Watching the screens and talking to Terminal Computer, he became aware that the three-sided war was moving much more rapidly towards him than he had previously anticipated. With Revenge now gone there was nothing to show that the planet was inhabited, nor indeed was there much to show that the planet was even there. It was far too far away from the Sun to give off any reflected light. It would show up on screens as a large, odd shaped bit of rock, be diagnosed by navigators as an off-course asteroid and be avoided.

  At least that was the rationalisation that Koreli and Avon had presented Vila with, but now he was not so sure. There seemed to be more ships on the screen every second, and they were all intent on heading, or perhaps drifting, Vila's way. He turned to the computers for information.

  'The battle being fought two hundred thousand spacials from here is a close encounter battle, with ships flying within ten spacials of each other at times. The lack of active weaponry among two sets of forces, and the desire by all sides to capture their opponents' ships for use later, means that few shots are being fired. The battle therefore is taking on a direction of its own. It is in effect drifting. '

  'And that means drifting this way, ' said Vila.

  'That is correct, ' the computer told him.

  In vain Vila searched the sky for any, sign of Revenge, but he knew that even if Avon had landed on Earth and then taken off again immediately they would never have had time to do the round trip safely. Perhaps they had aborted the trip, deciding to return
to Terminal and await a cessation in hostilities. He looked again; there was still no sign. Perhaps they had already been shot down. Desperation filled Vila's heart. The inside of Terminal lost its charm and appeal. His five months of isolation on Gauda Prime had taught him once and for all that he needed company. Even if it was just Avon's.

  He looked back at the screen. On the far left there seemed to be a new fleet moving in; a small fleet in small ships. Vila called up a report.

  'They do not appear to belong to any of the three main protagonists in this conflict, ' he was told.

  'Wonderful, ' he said half to himself. 'Now half the tribes in the Galaxy have heard there's a fight for Earth going on and they're all coming to pile in. '

  'From the evidence available so far, ' continued the computer, ignoring Vila's comments, 'they would seem to come from the Fifth sector, but there is sufficient data to ... ' The voice faded, and stopped all together. Vila touched some controls. Nothing happened.

  'Vila!' the voice was KAT.

  'Not now, ' hissed Vila. The last thing he needed at this juncture was a conversation with a half-alert computer demanding more soma. 'Terminal Computer, ' he urged. 'Come on, come on. You can't give up on me now you useless collection of cells. It's bad enough without anyone else here, but I need you. '

  Terminal Computer remained silent. Vila looked at the massive array of contacts in front of him thoughtfully produced by Terminal Consortium. Sadly the Consortium members had not seen fit to provide indicators on most contacts to show what they were supposed to do, and he had already eliminated those which he knew how to work. Vila pushed a few points of light at random but nothing happened. On the screens the approach of the fourth set of ships continued. From nowhere and everywhere came sounds.

  Vila's hand was held in suspended animation midway through the air. He stopped breathing.

  'Vila!'

  'Shut up you drunken heap of junk, ' replied Vila, before thoughtfully telling Terminal Computer that the reference was to KAT and not him, or rather it, or rather...

  Vila bent his head forward. There definitely was a noise. It seemed to come from the mainframe itself. On the screens a few of Servalan's ships were turning away from the main fleet, moving to face the unknown column.

  'Vila!' KAT was getting insistent. 'Shut Terminal Computer down. Sir, shut it down now. Vila!'

  Vila was entering a dream. Slightly outside his new vision was the sound of KAT urging him to do something. It seemed an effort; too much effort. Not worth considering at all. Perhaps if it were important KAT would talk again, but it looked as if KAT had given up the unequal fight... Better that way. No need to move...

  12

  Avon was summoned into an enquiry room. He was faced by a senior official wearing the gold and dark blue braid of the Administration's financial division. Avon took a seat. The questioning was run of the mill, concerning the financial status of the planet Skat and the inevitable questions of residual rights to minerals, airspace, and the fact that the Federation retained the right to use up to forty percent of the planet's surface for military purposes if the need arose. The Federation it seemed would choose which forty percent. Avon made up information about the other life forms on the planet, assured the unnamed official that it was all non-sentient, told him that there were no other planets in the area that were the slightest bit habitable, and that this was why, as their record books showed, the planet had been colonised some five hundred years before only to find itself unable to persuade others to come out and visit. They had not even known of the Federation until a short while ago, so lacking were they in basic technological equipment. Only when a broken-down Federation ship happened on them was the secret of interstellar flight rediscovered. And now the decision had been taken to rejoin the fold of mankind and end the isolation that had lasted on the planet for half a thousand years.

  Avon enjoyed his speech. It was so very different from anything he would normally do, and he found himself rather good at it. He resisted the temptation to elaborate too much. It had to sound as if he had explained the story too many times before.

  The official was bored. He pressed contacts and gave Avon his clearance to enter the Dome for the specific purpose of discussing trade relations and funding. 'You will need to contact Finance-7, ' the official concluded. Avon feigned surprise. The guard yawned, took a final look at the screen in front of him (but hidden from Avon's gaze) and then got up and left without a word. Avon moved to follow, but was beaten to the door by the entry of a more senior (or at least less bored) officer. He pushed Avon back to his chair with ill conceived disdain. 'You are Morstern Jarno?' asked the new official.

  'I am. '

  'Are you sure you have never been known by any other name?'

  'Quite sure. '

  'Like perhaps Kerr Avon. '

  Avon pressed hard on the contact of the bracelet on his left wrist. On board the docked Revenge the battle stations command echoed through the empty ship.

  Vila awoke slowly. Part of him felt as if it were suffering from the greatest hangover of all time. Another part felt refreshed and happy. The problem was he wasn't sure which part was which. The thief rubbed the back of his neck, in case someone had hit him, but he found no bump. He looked up at the screens, and the sight that met his eyes brought him back to life. Most of the sky around the planet was now covered by space ships of varying shapes, sizes and allegiances. The tendency spotted by Terminal Computer before it had shut down had come to fruition. The first major battle of the Civil War was being fought in the skies above Vila's head. Without thinking Vila punched controls on Terminal Computer to bring some of the scenes into sharper focus, but nothing happened. He repeated the commands but to no avail.

  'Vila!' It was KAT. 'Sir, if I may be so bold, you should listen to me sometimes. Terminal Computer has been taken over by the sonic beams of Ghammar: Sir, it is totally dysfunctional. Fortunately the Ghammarans are exercising their forces over such a wide area that the signal is weaker than before. I was able to remove some of the controls prior to the power becoming too great. '

  'So what brought me round?'

  'The planet is now isolated from tarriel cell interference since all commands have to be passed through me. '

  'You mean you are running this planet?'

  'Alas no Sir, that is beyond my capacities although I am working on it. However I do control life support, security and that sort of thing. '

  'And can you also tell me what the Ghammarans are doing turning up in the middle of a battle between Servalan, the Federation's Military Command and the Administration?'

  'Again, Sir, alas, no. '

  'Thank you for that simple answer. '

  'But I can tell you that the Ghammarans appear to have neutralised the ships of the opposing forces. They are working their way through the fleets now without resistance. '

  'Marvellous. The Galaxy is about to be overrun by people from the planet we just tricked out of a teleport device, I'm sitting here unable to move and Avon is down on Earth fiddling with the currency computer of an Administration that is about to cease to exist. I need a drink. '

  'No, ' said KAT to Vila's total surprise.

  'What do you mean "no"? Since when did you become teetotal?'

  'Sir, I have always been able to restrain myself when the task in hand was more important than a drink or injection of other intoxicating substances. Look at the screens Sir. '

  Avon stepped forward into the cell. If he realised the irony of his situation he didn't show it. The last cell he had been held captive in had been on Gauda Prime and his warder had been Koreli.

  Avon checked the room carefully. The walls were whitewashed and otherwise bare. The door appeared to be a standard military treble-reinforced affair with a handprint

  lock which Vila would undoubtedly have been able to bypass, but was not something that Avon could solve. In die top right hand corner was an observation camera. Below it was the single piece of furniture - a hard bed. Avon sa
t down and waited.

  Moments later four guards came to the cell, removed him with all the violence they could muster and pushed him down the brightly lit corridor past more cell doors into a reception room. By the time he arrived much of Avon's anatomy was bruised, bleeding or both.

  Sitting at an impressive desk facing the doorway was a senior official of the Administration wearing the arm decorations of an Official Interrogator. The woman looked across the desk at Avon, flanked by the guards. He was not invited to sit. A cruel smile played across her face. This, she knew, was going to be her day.

  'You are Kerr Avon, one of the ten most wanted men in the Federation. ' She announced the fact with ill concealed pride. She promised herself she was going to dine out on every moment of this interview for the rest of her life.

  Avon had taken his decision in the cell. Denying the charge could only buy a small amount of time and a lot of pain, and that time would only be valuable if Korell was on her way, which he rather doubted. 'You have me at a disadvantage, ' he said with a smile which hurt his hps.

  'That is how it is supposed to be, ' replied the Interrogator returning the smile. Beneath the hardness and ingrained violence the woman could once have been attractive. Now the lines on her face showed only the enjoyment of inflicting pain.

  Probably a psychopath thought Avon. He logged the thought. Even psychopaths have weaknesses.

  'You have come back to Earth, Kerr Avon. What was your plan? And don't tell me it was to negotiate credits with Finance-7. Is it Blake? Where is he?'

  'Incorrect assumptions, Interrogator. ' - replied Avon quickly. 'The planet Skat exists and I am its official negotiator.

  'Don't play with me Avon. You may have tricked lesser mortals during your years on the run, but this time you've tried your luck too far. This is Earth, and this is the heart of the Administration, and I hold the rank of Senior Consultant Interrogator. You'll get away with nothing here. ' Despite her speech the Interrogator was still enjoying herself. It was as if she wanted the interview to take a long time so that she could break him down. With care she could bring in not just Avon, but also Blake, Vila, Cally, Soolin - the whole lot of them. 'I find it hard to believe, ' she continued, 'that the almighty Avon, arch criminal with Blake has now settled down to be financial advisor to a planet humbly taking its place within a Federation which he and Blake aimed to destroy. '