by Tony Attwood
‘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 Korell. ‘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 Korell 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 Korell, ‘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 Korell.
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 taking 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 Korell 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 and 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 Korell 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.’
‘We seemed to be haunted by people trying for faster food production,’ said Vila. Korell looked up cur
iously. ‘On Skat the original settlers were trying to develop better crop yields before they found the black hole. The Ghammarans said they used space travel only to secure food supplies they needed from a few underdeveloped planets, and now this place. I can tell you that no one in their right mind would grow a single pack of food concentrate down there.’
‘Vila, you’re a genius.’
‘I know, I keep telling everyone, but no one ever believes me.’ Despite his quick retort Vila wondered what on earth he had said. One thing was certain, he wouldn’t spoil the spell by asking. Korell was quiet; Vila looked at her intently, but she just smiled and said nothing. Up on the screens the first, and probably only, man made planet was gradually getting larger.
As orbit was established Avon made a reappearance on the control deck. ‘What have you built down there,’ asked Vila at once, ‘an escape capsule?’
Avon ignored the jibe. ‘Korell, I want you to take the ship in and land at the grid references fed into Blake. When we land I shall unload the items that I have in the hold and you will be free to take off again.’
‘This is insane,’ Vila told him. ‘You are re-running exactly what happened with Liberator. The only difference is that this time we don’t have a ship that is falling apart at the seams.’ Vila looked around nervously. ‘At least, not yet.’
‘So you will be able to take off again.’
‘But what keeps bringing you back here? And what keeps you insisting that you always do it alone?’
‘Does it matter?’ asked Avon. He had the air of a man too tired to bother with debate.
‘Yes it does. Last time we had to drag you out of the mess you created by deciding to go wandering about on that iceball down there.’
‘Did you say ice?’ Korell asked.
‘Well not exactly ice, but it was windy and cold,’ Vila acknowledged.
‘There’s no ice down there now. No wind and no cold. The planet is hot – in some places very hot. Its orbit must have changed dramatically...’
‘What does that matter?’ said Vila frantically. He turned back to Avon. ‘If you had told us what was going on we might well have been able to save you without losing Cally.’
‘So you should have left me and done what I told you. Then Cally would still be alive.’
Vila was struck by a sudden thought. ‘You’re not going back because you think Cally is alive? We didn’t find the body, but she couldn’t still be there... Not after all this time.’
‘If I find the grave I’ll lay a wreath from you.’
‘Were you close to Cally?’ asked Korell.
Avon spoke rapidly. ‘Cally was a good fighter, intelligent and moderately unemotional. Those are qualities that can be admired. In as much as I admired such qualities I was close to her. But what I am going to do has nothing to do with Cally’s death. She is dead Vila, and reminding me of the fact is a waste of everyone’s time. Now will you put us down on the planet Korell, or do I have to do it myself?’
‘I think the safety of the ship, if nothing else, demands that I do it,’ she replied, and the descent began.
Even Vila had to admit the planet had changed dramatically since he was last there. According to Avon they had landed close to the spot where they teleported on their last mission. The cold biting wind was gone and there was no sign of any of the creatures they had met before. The foliage had also disappeared. Instead they now found themselves on a sandy soil. In the distance there was water – a huge lake, possibly even a sea. The sun shone down warm but, at least at this latitude not unbearably hot. The ground retained the uneven quality Vila had found before, but even that seemed to have modified and evened out.
Avon took care of his own unloading. The equipment that Vila had last seen sprinkled around the hold was now packed into two crates. Whether it was still in parts or now unified into one working machine couldn’t be seen. Vila once more tried to persuade Avon to explain, but met with no success.
As Avon continued preparing for his departure, Vila walked disconsolately back to the control room. Finding himself alone, he asked the computer for an analysis of the situation.
‘Avon is unloading silicon-based equipment onto the planet’s surface,’ said Blake.
‘I know that, you useless pile of junk,’ Vila retorted. ‘What I want to know is, why is he doing it? What is his plan?’
‘I cannot answer that question owing to the disconnection of certain functional levels of my operating system,’ said Blake.
Vila was stunned. He had been under the impression that the ship’s computer was now restored to normal, with the single exception of viewing facilities to the hold. Vila ran through the ship, out of the airlock and onto the planet’s surface, and immediately confronted Avon with his discovery.
‘The ship’s computers will operate perfectly adequately for the purposes of controlling the ship,’ replied Avon stiffly.
Vila turned to Korell standing close by. ‘Is he still sticking to the plan to go off into the sunset and leave us?’ he asked.
‘There has been slight progress,’ Korell replied. ‘I have agreed to stay with the ship on the ground for five hours. Avon will come back within that time. If he doesn’t we can do whatever we please.’
‘Five hours,’ said Avon and with that he marched away from the Revenge in the direction of the water, pulling the two crates behind him on an improvised sledge.
‘Good luck,’ shouted Vila, and then in a lower voice, ‘whatever it is you’re up to.’
Slowly the pair made their way back into the ship.
‘Do you know what he’s doing?’ asked Vila.
‘Not exactly. But whatever has been driving that man for the past few years is here, or around here, or connected with here, or reached from here or...’
‘Thank you,’ said Vila, ‘but if it’s that vague I’d rather not know.’
Korell laughed. She wanted to explain, if for no other reason than to hear out her own theories. ‘It’s not so bad, Vila. Whatever it is that has been pushing Avon has a connection with this planet. Now it may not be that Terminal is the answer, but if it isn’t it must be a means to the answer. Just think about all the inexplicable things about this planet. Its shape, its origins, its location, its change of climate. All that means something to Avon.’
‘It doesn’t mean much to me.’
‘No, but it will do soon.’
‘You really think Avon will come back?’
‘It doesn’t matter. I made the ship’s water supply radioactive two days ago. We can follow him on the scanner.’
Vila was appalled. ‘Radio-active? You’ll cripple us.’ Suddenly Vila felt weak. He sat down heavily.
‘Relax,’ Korell told him. ‘There’s enough to give a trace, no more. It’s like putting fluoride in the water to keep your teeth healthy.’
Vila looked unconvinced but kept quiet. He wondered why he’d developed toothache. Korell put the screens on. The landscape as mapped from the air during their descent was put on the screen. A bright red pulse showed Avon walking.
After ten minutes the pulse stopped: ‘What’s he hanging around for?’ asked Vila.
‘Probably nothing,’ Korell told him. ‘He could be going underground. Look, the pulse is getting slightly weaker. Did you go underground before?’
‘What civilisation there was was underground. Servalan had her HQ there. We saw a few buildings in the distance but they looked run down – probably smashed up by the Links. I tell you something else. There were major volcanic eruptions going on at the time we left. Servalan had set charges all over the place, and as the underground tunnels began to collapse with the explosions everything else began to break up too.’
‘I doubt if they were really volcanic,’ said Korell. ‘There’s nothing at the centre of the planet that could cause that sort of activity.’ She looked back at the screen. ‘Avon’s definitely underground. Are you sure the tunnels were all blown in?’
‘We didn’t hang around long enough to
find out,’ Vila said. ‘There were so many explosions it wasn’t safe waiting. Even Orac got dented.’
The flashing dot on the screen was now progressing, but very slowly indeed. Vila remembered the scene underground as the explosions had started off the collapse. He shuddered and tried to find something to take his mind off the situation. ‘Avon thinks you are a spy of Servalan,’ he said. It seemed a fair way of opening up a new conversation.
‘He’s thought that since I first found him. In a sense he’s right – I am.’
Vila fell off his chair. Korell laughed. ‘Servalan recruited me to keep an eye on Avon a year ago. It took me months to find him. By the time I had there had been the shoot-out at Gauda Prime and Avon was locked in a cell. I must have arrived just after everyone else left.’
‘I didn’t see you.’
‘I’m very discreet.’
‘So you don’t know what happened there any more than Avon does?’
‘No.’
‘But it is only Avon that Servalan wants. She must know that Avon is the one with the brains. She won’t want to worry about me. You could just drop me off on some little backwater planet somewhere and tell Servalan that I ran away. She’d believe that. Or tell her...’
Vila stopped because Korell was still laughing at him. ‘Servalan recruited me but I’m not working for her. My job was to follow Avon and eventually find a way of reporting back on what he is up to. But once I’ve done that my life won’t be worth a credit. She’ll have me eliminated in case I’ve picked up some of the knowledge that Avon has tucked away in his head about computers, teleports, plasma shields and everything else he seems to know about.’
‘That’s a relief,’ said Vila. ‘If I can believe it.’
‘Vila, you can leave any time any place you like. You can walk out now, or wait for the next planet, or the one after that, or the one after that. But I hope you won’t. I rather like you, and you are a very good thief.’ And she blew Vila a kiss before returning to the screen. Vila collapsed back in his chair certain (at least for the moment) that never again could he leave Korell’s side.