Blakes 7 - Afterlife

by Tony Attwood

  The Interrogator was unimpressed. ‘Everything runs on tarriel cells. You cannot bypass everything. The prisoner is obviously lying. I must protest at my official territory as SCI Scanbase being overturned in this way.’

  Korell ignored the protests. ‘The Ghammarans have little in the way of weaponry, since they don’t need it. They use their sound controls to disable and then they walk in and takeover. If one major weapon system could be converted to work without tarriel cells it could blast them from the skies.’

  The Interrogator looked at Avon, at Korell’s authority card and scowled in disbelief. ‘Very well. Avon, you will convert one of the central defence complex computers. Chief Commissioner Korell will show you how.’ She rose. Korell remained standing by the door where she had been throughout the interview. ‘Then Avon will be returned to me for further interrogation.’

  ‘Well now,’ said Avon slowly. ‘That does not seem much of a bargain to me.’

  ‘You are in no position to bargain,’ said the Interrogator.

  ‘Your first offer was living-death. Your second offer was to defend your Administration, and then death. I don’t like either.’

  ‘What do you want?’ asked Korell.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ asked Avon. ‘I had gained the distinct impression that you knew me inside out.’

  ‘I give you the pleasure of telling us.’

  ‘I want what I came for. Credit discussions with Finance-7 and safe passage away from Earth.’

  The Interrogator stopped Korell replying. ‘Chief Commissioner, I protest. It would be insane to accept terms from a criminal.’

  ‘If you don’t think the Administration is worth safe passage...’

  Korell took a quick look in the Interrogator’s eyes and stepped forward. ‘Under the special powers invested in me by the President of the Federation and Sovereign Power of the Inner and Outer worlds I must overrule any feelings you have, Senior Consultant.’ She placed a second small card on the desk in front of the Interrogator. It had the a desired effect. ‘With your permission Interrogator,’ she continued, emphasising the words, allowing the older woman to regain as much of her dignity as she wanted, ‘I shall take this man to begin work on the central defence computer complex. In return for the successful completion of the mission he shall have all he asks.’ Korell turned, opened the door with a slight pressure of her right hand on the pad and let Avon step in front of her. As they walked Avon sensed rather than felt the gun pointed at his back.

  They proceeded down a drab grey corridor past unmarked doors. For Avon it was a helpful walk, adding to his knowledge of the local topography. At the third intersection they turned into a narrower passage and Korell told Avon to stop. She pressed her hand onto a control panel, spoke her name into a box and the door obediently opened for her. Within the room five men were gathered around a main frame computing unit. Parts of the casing had been removed and various components lay scattered on benches. Above, a large screen showed the location of the forces – the Federation in white, Servalan in red, the Ghammarans in blue. Avon glanced casually at where he knew Terminal to be. There were ships all around the area but the planet itself did not register. Korell showed her authorisation card to the technicians. They stood to attention.

  ‘This man is Avon. He has knowledge of the attacking forces and of computer systems,’ she announced. ‘He will be in charge of the repairs of the defence system. Borrn,’ she turned to one of the computer workers. ‘Inform Avon of the current situation.’

  But before the man could speak Avon stepped forward, his right hand slightly raised, his fingers pointing. He spoke in a relaxed calm manner. ‘There’s no need, I can see what you’ve been up to. The fact that you are still working on the system shows that the Ghammaran weapon has range problems. At this distance it can affect equipment but not people.’ He turned away from the men and looked at Korell. ‘I shall need to have some equipment.’

  ‘Of course. I shall arrange it.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ Avon replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘You seem to have influence in the highest of places.’ He looked at her eyes, trying to read them, but she looked back with a carefree relaxed smile that was becoming irritating.

  Avon wrote out the list of computer items he needed and Korell left with it. He then turned back to the analysing data banks through which he guessed much of Earth’s defences were channelled. He gave instructions to the five men on parts of the system he wanted dismantled and then turned to the master control board amplifying the signal from Ghammar and watching the results.

  ‘Vila!’

  Vila turned in a hurry. ‘Hello,’ he said quickly. ‘I thought you were dead. I mean I thought you were dead before, and then I thought you were dead just now, I mean...’

  ‘Vila you are babbling, which is good because it means you really are here. I would hate to think I’d started dreaming about you.’

  ‘I know I’m here, but what I can’t make out is what you are doing here. I thought you were dead...’

  ‘Don’t start that again. Let’s take this step by step. Are you here alone?’

  ‘For the moment, yes. Avon’s on Earth.’

  ‘Avon! I don’t believe it. You are still with Avon. I thought after Gauda Prime you’d have parted company with him for good, or failing that shot him.’

  Vila looked at Tarrant as his erstwhile friend and sometime enemy eased himself off the bed. Tarrant had joined Avon and Vila soon after the battle to save the Galaxy from invasion by the Andromedans. From then on, with Blake seemingly lost forever, Avon and Tarrant had battled for the leadership of the survivors of Blake’s original seven. Tarrant was a good pilot – possibly better even than Korell, but he lacked Avon’s computer knowledge and his impetuosity hampered his ability for self preservation. He had been seriously injured on Gauda Prime as the ship has crashed, but had made it to the control room. Vila had thought him shot by the Federation guards.

  ‘Not quite shot,’ Tarrant told him. ‘I’d lost a lot of blood, it was as much as I could do to get into the base. Once there I collapsed. The next thing I knew I was still lying on the floor but the place was deserted. I went outside, found an old freighter and got her into the air on my own.’

  ‘You must have been unconscious for two days,’ Vila told him. ‘I watched you take off.’

  Tarrant was staggered. ‘Where were you?’ he demanded.

  ‘In the next ship.’

  ‘I went through agony on that freighter and all because I had no one to dress the wounds or to keep watch while I rested. And all the time you were skulking in a ship next door. What made you come out? Rain damage?’

  ‘The food ran out.’

  ‘So Avon came and rescued you!’

  ‘No he did not,’ said Vila. He began to get angry. ‘And if you’ve just come inside to tell me off for not popping in to your space freighter when you wanted me...’

  ‘No Vila,’ Tarrant told him. ‘I came inside to get away from a ten foot tall red and grey creature out on the surface that certainly wasn’t around last time I was here.’

  ‘So what brought you here?’

  ‘There’s a full scale war going on out there – or hadn’t you noticed?’

  ‘And whose side are you on?’

  ‘Perhaps I should ask you that. We had a three-cornered fight going between Federation rebels, Servalan’s troops and Loyalist Administration troops when suddenly another fleet of ships come out of nowhere and immediately all our computers stop working and most of the crew go gaga. Fortunately, after the initial attack whatever it was that was affecting people diminished in power. I managed to stay conscious and get the ship under manual. I saw this place looming up out of the nothingness and tried for a landing. This is Terminal.’

  Vila agreed that it was.

  ‘Once I recognised the shape of the place I tried to land close to where the hatches were. I reckoned that control system that was interfering with the computer could start up again at any t
ime and get me too, but with a bit of luck might not work under the ground. I also presumed the Links would all be frozen to death this far out from the sun. I didn’t reckon on those monsters you’ve been breeding out there.’

  ‘We don’t breed them, they mutate.’ Vila told him. He took a look at the scratches that Tarrant had received and plugged in the automatic medical scanner built into the couch. As it worked, scanning and treating the wounds, Tarrant continued with his story. Injured and alone, drifting through the outer reaches of the Galaxy, Tarrant had finally brought his freighter to a fringe planet which existed mostly to enhance trade between the Federation and the small number of worlds that survived outside its sphere of influence. There he gained employment as a pilot on a small freighter running between Federation and non-Federation planets. His nose for illegal involvements and adventure quickly led to his becoming involved in a series of off-the-record runs exporting cargoes which the Federation would rather never have had imported, and importing some that they would rather never have seen. As his talent as a pilot became recognised, Tarrant moved up through the ranks until he pushed his luck too far trying to offload herculanium from outside the Federation onto Earth itself. However, before his trial could take place, word passed around that Servalan was about to attack, that many of the armaments supplied in recent months were now worthless and unstable, that many Federation troops could not be relied upon to fight for Earth, and that all in all the situation was desperate. Faced with the option of being tried for what was now defined as a treasonable offence, or working as a pilot for the Administration at a suitable rank and suitable pay Tarrant had chosen the obvious route. He was now recognised as one of the best Administration pilots.

  Having completed his story Tarrant relaxed in the recovery couch and listened to Vila’s tale in silence. At the end he stretched himself carefully, and feeling no more pain stood up. As Vila led the way to the central control chamber Tarrant summed up the situation.

  ‘Neither of us know what happened on Gauda Prime after Avon shot Blake, and if Avon is telling the truth, he doesn’t know either because he was in prison. Added to that you still haven’t discovered why Avon shot Blake in the first place. You haven’t learned much in your time with Avon.’

  Vila was defensive. ‘I didn’t want to push him too hard. You saw how he was. He could have pointed a gun at me –and fired it. I was biding my time.’

  ‘But he certainly knew what he was doing coming here. And he obviously knew what was going on when he refused to work for the Ghammarans. And now on top of everything else he wants to pull off his famous million credit fraud.’

  Suddenly Vila realised the implication of telling Tarrant everything. ‘You wouldn’t split on him would you? I mean you wouldn’t report what he’s up to to the Administration? We were together a long time Tarrant, you and I. You can keep quiet can’t you? I saved you out there...’

  ‘Yes you did Vila, and I’m grateful,’ replied Tarrant. ‘But I wouldn’t shop you anyway. The Administration is simply my employer, and when this little emergency is over they may not even want to be that.’

  ‘But who is going to win?’ asked Vila. ‘The Ghammarans have got everyone guessing. No one can fly except us.’

  ‘So why don’t we fly?’ asked Tarrant.

  ‘Because I’m waiting for Avon. Without him we’ve no credit. Besides, he’s the only one who really understands the computer system here, and I’m not sure even he could get it going with everything being bypassed into KAT.’

  ‘But I am a pilot, you forget that Vila.’

  ‘No, Tarrant. I just don’t see where we could go. The money is the important part of the plan. Without the credit we’ll just be on the run yet again. I’ll sit here and wait for Avon. You can stay too if you like.’

  Tarrant looked at Vila and then around the control room, as if making up his mind. ‘Well I can’t fly my ship and I don’t want to spend much time outside, so I might as well keep you company Vila,’ he said finally. ‘At least for the time being.’

  Avon handed the com-plate over without a word.

  ‘Will it work?’ asked Korell innocently.

  ‘Oh yes it will work. The problem is, what will come back in return?’

  Korell looked at Avon curiously. For once the smile passed from her face, but she held back from any further questioning, preferring to get on with the task of installing the new device. As she turned to the door Avon called her back.

  ‘You’ll also need this,’ he said, holding out a plastic card. She took it without recognition.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The program for the com-plate.’ Korell’s frown turned to irritation. Avon allowed a brief smile across his face in suitable ironic contrast. He had, he hoped, annoyed her sufficiently for her to forget, at least for the moment, what he might do when left alone in the defence control room. Korell’s job was now to duplicate the plate along with its programme so that it would work on not only this but also the five identical computer defence rooms situated in the other major domes on Earth. In theory all six defence computers should act in the same way, but in practice there were always small differences in the speed of operation and the route taken through the complex programming. The operators would ignore such small deviations. A few small additions of Avon’s own should also go unnoticed.

  Avon finished his final amendment as Korell walked back into the room. He turned to face her.

  ‘What will it do?’ she demanded.

  ‘Rework the calculations without tarriel cell interfacing. It will take longer but it still works.’

  ‘Have you known about that possibility long?’

  ‘Since I first found Orac. Ensor never made his basic research findings available – just the finished result. So I took the finished work and progressed backwards, and finally found an alternative system possible using Dorian Data.’

  ‘But is it just as effective?’ For once Korell looked unsure.

  ‘Dorian Data has very little practical use since the tarriel cell is quicker, cheaper and more accurate. And now that I have completed my half of the bargain it is your turn to complete yours.’

  ‘Your freedom to return to Terminal?’ As she spoke Korell looked away from Avon and up to the monitor camera tucked away in the roof of the room. ‘You shall have it Avon, but before we allow Revenge out of Earth space we need to be satisfied that your com-plate works and that your ship can pass through solar space safely. In fact – ‘and here her old radiance and smile returned – ‘both will happen at once. If the Dorian Data works then the battle with the Ghammarans will be over. The Federation and Servalan forces will be unready for a resumption of fighting and we shall mop up resistance very quickly. The duplications of the plate and programmes will be completed by now. Shall we stay here and watch them work?’

  Avon sat passively and watched as the plates were inserted and the program run. At once the tell-tale sound that had dominated the machines since the Ghammarans’ attack disappeared. As they watched the Administration ships responded to orders and reopened fire, attacking in sequence the ships of Ghammar and Servalan, although the rebel Federation forces of Yarddyn were left alone. Lights on the screen flared, blinked and went out as ships were destroyed. As the moments passed the ships of Servalan’s fleet and those of the Federation reorganised themselves and recovered from the effect of the Ghammaran interference, resuming the attack although so out of position and so seriously depleted they made little of their opportunity. Only the Ghammaran fleet failed to respond as projected. Instead of cutting and running, having found their prime weapon overcome, they started moving at growing speeds towards Earth.

  Korell turned to Avon. ‘Your doing?’ she asked. There was no malice in her voice, no anger. It was as if she had expected a trick.

  ‘Something like that,’ Avon told her. ‘And it can be undone. Just as tarriel cell technology can be inverted to produce beams which inhibit everything from weaponry systems to the simplest programming, so
can Dorian Data. And the inversion can be used to draw people towards you. The defences are drawing them in.’ Avon paused as he saw Korell move to switch the defence shield off. ‘Do that and you open the way to tarriel interference once more. I will remove the inversion once I am safely on board Revenge and on my way back to Terminal. You, Korell, will come with me to ensure my good conduct.’

  Showing no surprise, Korell agreed. Senior officials were informed and passes issued. Under armed guard Korell and Avon were escorted back to the ship.

  ‘Defence Killer 7 to pilot.’

  Tarrant picked up his communicator in surprise. It was about five inches long and less than half an inch wide; holding it registered his presence and allowed his communication back to the ship. In the hands of anyone else it would have refused to work. ‘Pilot to Defence Killer 7. Meritt, have you got control back?’

  ‘Yes sir and the battle has been resumed. We’re wiping Servalan off the face of the Galaxy. The Rebel Federation forces are fleeing, but the Ghammarans are advancing on Earth. We are ordered in sir. Can you return to the ship?’

  ‘Yes... No.’ Tarrant removed his hand from the contact and spoke to Vila. ‘Are those creatures out there all the time?’

  ‘They’ve probably mutated into something else by now,’ Vila told him solemnly. ‘You’ll be safer here. I should stay if I were you.’

  ‘Not a chance,’ Tarrant told him. ‘This whole affair smells of being one of Avon’s tricks. Avon goes to Ghammar and the Ghammarans attack with a disabling weapon. Avon goes to Earth and the weapon is turned off so that we mop up the opposition. The Ghammarans then move in on Earth.’

  ‘You mean Avon did a deal with the Ghammarans after all?’

  ‘Wake up Vila,’ said Tarrant tersely. ‘He never told you what was going on in the past and he hasn’t started yet. He uses you, just like he used all of us on Liberator and Scorpio.’