Blake's 7 - 04 - Afterlife

by Tony Attwood

  'It goes back further than that, ' Avon told her. 'The weather conditions were never right to create the grasslands. This is a very different universe. '

  Vila gave up. If this was another universe he didn't fancy it, and was sure he could create a better version. He opened & locker to the side of his position and reached in for the container of para-hyrene. He found only thin air. Turning, he saw Avon holding the small phial. Vila tried to grab it, but Avon pulled back. In his other hand Avon was holding KAT. 'When did you last use this?'

  'I haven't, ' said Vila.

  'Very well, ' Avon replied equitably. 'But you tested it on KAT. '

  'I gave KAT a drop to make sure it was the real stuff, after the first run into Skat. I didn't fancy too many more of those. ' He made another grab for the container and Avon let him take it. Without speaking Vila left the flight deck for the solitude and alternative realities of his own room. In every respect he had had enough.

  'Mysteries galore, ' said Korell after Vila had gone. 'I presume at least you solved the sygnum problem. You wouldn't have left the planet so rapidly otherwise, no matter what the threat. '

  Avon acknowledged the deduction. 'The sygnum was there all the time in the grass, ' he told her. 'It was the grass, as KAT later confirmed. We expected to find it as crystals because that is how we have always experienced it. But in its raw state it is quite different, and by and large harmless. To collect it you need a lawn mower - then you can make enough shielding to protect a fleet of ships. '

  'Or much more than that if you could drop through the white hole and find more Skats packed with lawns of sygnum. And I presume you saw, as I felt, that on walking through the doorway one is lifted off the ground. As if it were important that you don't make contact with both sides of the door at once. '

  Avon sat down and stared at the monitors. 'I took something that was from one side of the doorway - the grass - and sent it to the other side. The result was an explosion. So, ' he continued quickly, almost bored by having to restate the obvious, 'you have white holes from one time-space continuum into another. Plus all the shielding you could ever need. And then you decide not to let anyone come near you. And that leaves the question - what are you afraid of?'

  'Levarll told us that his ancestors found that they were not the first to get through the white holes. They therefore knew the story of the sygnum would get out - if not through this continuum, then through another. And the last thing their ancestors wanted was to draw attention to a beautiful planet by making it some kind of impenetrable fortress. So they just gave people a bumpy ride. Most give up, a few get through. Those who do get through can be dealt with by the gateway. Most will probably get hopelessly lost in other time-space zones. Vila and I had the good sense to jump back through the gateway in the opposite way to which we went in. You had the sense not to go in in the first place. But even so we have now ended up in another universe, which doesn't make us too great on the escapology ratings. But you do have a penchant for non-urban environments. I wonder why. '

  Avon looked away from the monitors and glanced at Koreli. He said nothing and returned to the screens typing out new instructions on the touch controls.

  'I know that withering look, ' Koreli said. 'Are you going to tell me where I am wrong, or do I have to guess?'

  Avon remained silent.

  'All right, ' the woman said. 'I'll amuse you, Avon. I'll talk through the problems. First, they welcomed us as honoured guests of the Federation, and then as honoured rebels. So who do they give allegiance to? Second, their ancestors worked for the Federation, but tried to keep information from the Administration on Earth. The knowledge of white holes is widespread, but I've never heard a rumour that their locations are known. Some people in the Federation could know about the locations, but if they do they probably use that knowledge for their own benefit. That would mean the ships you spotted were not here on official Federation business, but probably ruling Skat through the threat that if the Federation proper ever gets in life will be a lot worse. That would explain why ships are not shot down as they approach Skat, because that could attract the attention of Federation officials who are not actually in on the secret. '

  Koreli paused and thought. Avon's silence indicated that she was not on the right track. She could acknowledge that she had no proof, but the explanation itself seemed logically sound and without some evidence to disprove it she couldn't accept Avon's attitude. She was either missing a clue, or an essential piece of information. She sat down to think. Something deep in her brain told her it was to do with the ground, the earth, natural, growing things. The trees on Gauda Prime, the grass on Skat...

  For five days the ship stayed in orbit around the barren rock that Skat had become. Avon moved from the control cabin into the ship's cargo bay and set up a workshop which would convert the grass-sygnum into material that could be used as part of the new shielding. The cargo bay on Revenge was large, some two hundred yards square, designed to carry the cargo that the freighter ship would have plied between the planets. Set in the roof were four single lamps which gave out strong, but not glaring light - very much to Avon's liking. His suit got dirty again, but he didn't change1. He cut back on the sleep, knowing that every moment the ship was without shielding was another moment of vulnerability. He also cut communication down to a minimum.

  At first the floor of the hold seemed to Vila, who did much of the fetching and carrying, to be covered in dirt and grass. But as time went by the amount of grass diminished and the small containers that Avon had put on the metal shelving around the edge of the hold began to be filled with a fine white powder. Avon worked without machines, for there were none on board that would suit his purpose, and could be seen grinding the grass into pulp in trays with a makeshift pestle and mortar, before taking the containers carefully down to the drive room where the fusion process engines continued at the lowest level, providing just enough power to keep the ship in its orbit. That power was also just enough to generate the heat that Avon needed to turn the paste into crystals.As the process developed Vila began to find that, apart from the occasional bit of clearing up and physical labour, he was required less and less in the hold. Having had one bout of para-hyrene he refrained from entering that other world again. He talked with KAT but the talk got boring. Even the cocktails KAT suggested were beginning to pall a little. At length, with no other conversation around and no other tasks to perform Vila began to talk to the main ship's computer. The machine answered always without any sign of personality - giving responses in a flat monotone. That was to be expected - no one would bother to give a freighter computer a personality. But it didn't stop Vila.

  'You're boring, you know that, ' Vila told the machine. The computer did not reply, as he knew it would not. It only gave specific information on specific requests. It did not even seek to explain itself. 'Worse than Orac, ' Vila concluded. As he explained to the machine, 'Orac had opinions - even if they were pompous. You have nothing. You don't even have a name. ' The machine remained silent, its fights showing only the standard red 'alert' light. 'I'll give you a name, ' Vila told it. The computer did not seem impressed. Vila leaned across and pressed the 'learn' contact. A second red light appeared. 'From now on you will respond to the name... 'He paused. What name? How do you go about naming a computer? Vila tried hard to focus his mind, but no thought sharpened up. He took another sip of his drink. His mind wandered. He thought of Korell, currently resting on her bed. He thought of Avon endlessly slaving away to get the ship prepared. But for what? His thought drifted uneasily through the five turbulent years since he had been found guilty and sentenced to deportation for life on Cygnus Alpha. He thought of all the people he had been with since then. Gan, Jenna, Cally, Tarrant, Dayna, Sollin, and of course Blake. Blake: the great champion of the Freedom Party dedicated to fighting the Federation's overwhelming power. Eventually even the official vidnews broadcasts recognised their existence, frequently reporting that 'one of the infamous, so-called "Blake's
Seven" had been captured' - or arrested, killed,

  maimed, destroyed, eaten alive or whatever suited their propaganda purposes that day. Blake's Seven, and in five years there had been seven deaths. Now there was nothing but the memory of seven dead friends.

  An idea came into Vila's head followed by a smile. 'Computer, my old friend, ' he said, ignoring for the moment the previous names he had called the machine. 'I have a name for you. You will only respond to this name, and not to any other name in future, and that order cannot be countermanded. You have a name. Your name is - Blake. ' And that, thought Vila, should cause a bit of anguish to pass through Avon's mind, next time he had to ask the computer for help.

  Vila pondered his action and took another drink. He looked at the machine - at Blake - and pulled his thoughts together. One of KAT's better ideas for sifting out wine that tasted intoxicating but didn't impair judgement seemed to be working. Vila should have been half drunk, but felt only inspired by the alcohol. 'Blake, ' he announced. 'You need a personality. I can't give you Blake's personality, or else you would send us tearing around the Galaxy trying to defeat the Federation all over again. And, ' he added realistically, 'because I don't know that much about programming, I'll give you the instructions verbally. You will obey the instructions I give you on how to behave on all -1 repeat all - future occasions. No contrary instructions can be given. ' Vila was starting to enjoy this. He began to stroll up and down the empty flight deck. As he gave instructions he gestured with his arms, his voice getting more lyrical, his language more flamboyant. Soon he began to feel a sense of real power, but his brain was clear enough to instil a sense of realism. He knew if he went too far Avon would find ways of bypassing the instructions, and all would be lost. Vila had to take the matter carefully, add a little day by day... He warmed to the idea.

  Avon wasted no time resting once he had finished the main work of preparing the sygnum. He banged on Korell's door, demanded her presence in the control room with him. He was covered in a mixture of grass and white powder. 'You look terrible, ' Vila told him. 'Still, I suppose you have the consolation of knowing that if anyone fires a plasma bolt at you it will bounce off. '

  Avon ignored the remark and turned to Koreli as she entered. 'What have you found, or have you been sleeping the past five days?'

  Koreli was unruffled. Vila looked at her afresh. It seemed that whatever clothes she wore they looked as if they were exactly the right choice for her. Today she appeared in a velvet jacket and faded blue trousers. 'I have a galaxy with some communication traffic but not as much as there should be. A definite increase in communications towards the first sector... '

  'Earth!'

  'Quite probably, Vila, although in this universe nothing is certain. '

  'There's virtually nothing around here. No sound of the normal Federation computer talk. Very little sign of interstellar movement generally, and absolutely nothing on Skat. '

  'Good, ' announced Avon. 'Take the ship down and land. Vila and I will need about three hours outside the ship to fix the shielding completely. '

  'Not again, ' pleaded Vila. 'Not down there. I know it was all clear last time, but I don't really want another buffeting. Can't you fix the thing in orbit?'

  Avon smiled, and turned gently towards Vila, one hand raised, a finger pointing. He hesitated for one moment, and then spoke. 'Vila, you're right. '

  'Am I? If you say so I must be wrong. '

  'We shall fit the shield in space. Get a suit on. '

  'A space suit?'

  'You could try an underwater diving suit, but I'm not sure it would work. '

  'I'm not putting that space suit on again, and that's final. '

  Avon took on the attitude of a kindly uncle dealing with a rather unintelligent nephew. 'Vila, if you go outside into space, in orbit, without a suit, you will not be able to breathe. '

  'I know that. That's what I am saying. I'm not going outside. '

  'Fine. Sit down. Koreli, take us down. '

  'Computer, ' announced Koreli. 'Give me a descent path to an open plain on the planet's surface. '

  There was silence. Vila coughed. 'I, er, gave the computer a name, ' he said diffidently. 'It seemed a shame not to have a computer with a name. '

  'What name?'

  Vila told him. Avon's face remained blank. It was impossible to read his thoughts. Koreli just laughed, and repeated the order. 'It is on your screen, Koreli, ' the computer replied.

  Avon and Koreli looked up at the computer simultaneously. Vila tried to look the other way. 'You can take over controls yourself, or you can return the ship to my control and leave yourself free for other tasks. '

  'And I gave it a bit of personality. Just to make it more friendly. '

  'Any other bits of the ship you've decided to play with in the last few days?' demanded Avon. 'Navigational instruments only responding to the Galaxy's known gambling dens? Monitors only showing the outside environment when they think it is pretty?'

  'Nothing especially, ' Vila announced.

  Koreli came to his rescue. 'Do you want this ship down or do you want to have a row with Vila?' she asked Avon.

  'Put us down, ' came the terse reply.

  'Blake, ' said the pilot.

  'I know, ' replied the computer.

  6

  'There are only three ways back into our ovn time and space, ' Avon announced. 'First, through a white hole. The trouble is that a white hole is the point at which material sucked into a black hole emerges, and that's difficult to find without the right equipment, which we don't have; and impossible to enter, unless held stable by a six-mile-square building created by technology which we certainly do not possess, and which is also not widely available even to the upper hierarchy of the Federation. ' He looked at Korell. She wondered if he was giving her a clue. 'Then there are stable black holes and rotating black holes. '

  'I thought all black holes were things to be avoided, ' said Vila.

  'What you think and what is, are normally two different things, ' Avon retorted. 'Non-rotating black holes lead to singularities at which matter is stripped to nothingness, before being spat out through a white hole. And apart from that the tidal forces on a stable black hole would tear the ship apart before we even got near it.

  'Spinning black holes, however, lead to wormholes connecting up all possible universes. They are the links between past, present and future in each and every one of the eleven dimensions. '

  'So we go looking for a rotating black hole, and dive in, ' Vila announced. Then he frowned. 'How do we find one if it's a black hole against a black sky?'

  'For a start, ' Korell told him, 'we can't just find any spinning black hole. This is all outside my field but the little astro-physics I do know suggests we need a black hole that is big enough not to tear us apart. '

  'The tidal force of a spinning black hole is inversely proporuonal to the square of the mass of the hole, ' said Blake.

  'Eh?' said Vila.

  'That will teach you to go round handing out gratuitous personalities that offer information, ' Korell told him.

  'Well I only did it because Orac kept refusing to talk to us. '

  'The bigger the black hole, Vila, the lower the gravity field output, which is the main danger of the ship being torn apart, ' the computer continued. 'So go and look for the biggest black hole you can find - one that is at least two thousand times larger than the Earth's sun. There is only one such object. '

  'Oh. Where?'

  'At the centre of the Galaxy. ' Korell and Blake spoke simultaneously. All travellers knew about that black hole; and knew about avoiding it, too.

  'There is just one other possibility, however, ' continued Korell. 'We don't have to go back to our own universe. '

  'Why not?' asked Vila.

  'The question should be "why?"' Korell told him. 'I don't seem to recall us having vast hordes of valuable riches stashed away there. Nor yet some loved ones who need to be returned to. '

  Avon wa
s guarded in his reply. 'But there is the question of unfinished business, ' he said.

  'Perhaps you would care to give us details?'

  'The business is private, ' Avon told her.

  'Since it involves risking everything to enter a black hole, and risking everything again to come out in the right time and the right place, and since I don't recall having heard that the insides of black holes are covered with signposts pointing the way to each reality, it seems quite a risk without a full knowledge of why. '

  'You would like to stay?' asked Avon.

  'Possibly, ' Korell replied.

  'And what do you offer us if we stay? Life on board this freighter until we grow senile and can't work the controls;

  or until we get so mad with each other we end up locked in our own rooms never daring to come out for fear of being talked to by a computer programmed by Vila? Is that what you want?'

  'I offer nothing, Avon. What do you want? The chance to settle old scores?'

  'But in this reality, ' said Vila, 'there are parallels to our own galaxy. ' Koreli confirmed the supposition. 'Then there might be another me. '

  'That seems a good enough reason for going back, ' said Avon.

  'And Blake might still be alive in this reality. '

  'And working as a farm hand on a frontier world having never had a revolutionary thought in his life, ' Koreli added. 'What's the point of this line of thought, Vila? People may exist, or may not. If you want real parallels you've got to get into that black hole and find a reality closer to the one we know than this one is. If you choose to stay it is to make this reality into what you want it to be. You create your life here, and be glad of it. '

  'There is another factor. ' The voice was from Blake.

  'Yes Blake?' said Vila intently, anxious to calm matters down, and to maintain his affiliation with the computer.

  'The ship, and all of you, are in a universe from which you do not originate. Although this position is stable at the moment, you cannot stay here indefinitely. '