Blake's 7 - 04 - Afterlife

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Blake's 7 - 04 - Afterlife Page 11

by Tony Attwood


  'I don't know really. Do I Avon?'

  'I thought you were concerned about the death of Blake. '

  Vila looked puzzled. 'Of course I am. And we all know who killed Blake. You. Kerr Avon. '

  'Are you sure?'

  'Sure? Avon, I was standing there. Three feet from you. You killed Blake. I saw the hole you made in his body. Now you're not going to tell me that I imagined all that. '

  'No. Perhaps you are right. ' And with that Avon left the control room and returned to his cabin.

  'What's all that about?' Vila asked Koreli, genuinely puzzled.

  'There can't be many explanations, ' Koreli told him. 'Now we have to decide how to deal with our friends from the Federation. At the rate we are going we shall be docking in about forty-five minutes. '

  7

  As designs for space stations went, it was unexceptional, functional rather than luxurious. As locations for space stations go, it was bizarre in the extreme, circling a burned-out red giant with not even the remnants of a planetary system showing. The station, situated at a distance of fourteen light minutes from the star, travelled its eliptical orbit in splendid isolation. No space captain in his right mind would consider wandering near such a wreck of a sun, and its lack of planets would keep away everyone, from mining engineers to criminal exiles. The space station was as safe from detection as if it had been outside the Galaxy itself.

  Inside the spinning station life was more predictable than outer appearances might have suggested. Federation guards stood at every corner; with black helmets, black uniforms, black hand rifles, black boots. Only the commanders were allowed to push their helmets up, revealing faces and personalities. This one, noticed Vila, played the game of friendship. Yet he had the same insanity deep down inside that all the Federation officers had instilled into them through their training; the ruthlessness that would allow them to destroy whole populations if their military strength was threatened in any way.

  'I am Chief Commander Rodin, in charge of operation D5. Kindly tell me who you are. ' He remained seated looking up at the three, making no attempt to invite them to sit. Nor did he seem worried by the convention that the psychological advantage is with the person looking down. He had little time for games.

  Avon replied. 'I am Style, this is Jorma and Avalaan. ' He pointed to Koreli and Vila and spoke in a mild, unthreatening way. 'We have just completed a journey from Skat through the centre of the Galaxy..

  'Shut up, ' barked the Chief Commander. 'What are you thinking of speaking in front of others? Give the code series, man. '

  Avon looked confused and worried. 'That's just it. Something seems to have gone wrong. Everything was fine as we entered the hole... '

  Rodin sprang to life. 'Guards, leave the room, ' he shouted. 'No one is to enter without my personal command. Treble die guard on the door. Seal the base. Full alert. '

  The guards rushed out, and the door slid shut after them. From beyond it the sound of running with orders being shouted could be heard reverberating down the corridors.

  'Tell me what happened, ' said Rodin finally, regaining his calmer attitude.

  'We gathered material as required. Or at least I think we did because everything seems a bit vague now. Then we headed for the hole, and entered dead centre, applied reverse thrust, but it seemed to take too long. The vibrations built up and we all blacked out. We were still trying to sort out what had happened when you contacted us. '

  'But is the cargo safe?'

  'Cargo?' said Vila, to whom the question seemed aimed. 'Cargo?' he repeated.

  Rodin pressed the console on his desk. 'Send in Stora, ' he barked.

  Stora turned out to be a fellow officer, dressed in full uniform. He stamped to attention. Something about him puzzled Avon; he averted his eyes. 'Stora, search the ship that has docked. Check the hold particularly. '

  As Stora left Rodin turned back to the crew. His voice softened and his manner changed as he looked at Korell. 'Jorma, you say your name is. And what was your role on this mission? Or can't you remember that either?'

  'Pilot Sir, ' Korell replied formally.

  'Good. ' Rodin stood up. 'And do you remember what you are doing, or what is going on? Do you even know who you are working for?'

  All three looked innocent. Rodin swore, and punched a button on his desk violently enough for most desks to fall apart. 'Come and get these three out of here!' he shouted. The door opened and two guards came in. 'Put them in the rest centre and let them try and sleep it off. '

  As Avon, Korell and Vila were ushered out Rodin sat back at his desk and pondered the matter. He was still thinking when Stora returned with his report. 'The hold is empty but there are signs of raw sygnum everywhere. The ship has been converted in various ways, including having the extra shielding to allow it through the black hole and the autolog shows that they have been to Skat and through the hole. '

  'This is insanity, ' Rodin told him. 'We've got so much security and secrecy around this operation that we don't even know who is doing what and where. Which is all very well until a bunch of gooks like these three appear, claiming to have lost their memories. Since I don't know if they should have been here or not I can't tell if they are telling the truth. And I am strictly forbidden to ask for further information from command HQ. '

  'Couldn't you circulate their pictures sir, see if anyone knows of them?'

  'Just as forbidden. No information goes out of here without authorisation from the highest of all levels. And I have specifically been told that information includes such things as questions. And if we detain them for months and then discover they are a crack troop of gravity-probe experts we'll get court-martialed for not knowing them. Do you recognise any of them?'

  'One of them - the one called Style-reminds me of someone, but I can't place it. It may be nothing. '

  Rodin sighed. 'What about their computer?'

  'Now that is strange, sir. I can't get at it. It won't tell me anything. ''New code word?'

  'Perhaps; or maybe it's just jamming on everything. '

  'Could have resulted from the forces in the hole I suppose. '

  'Yes sir, except if that were so, how did they receive our command to identify themselves?'

  Rodin stood up. 'We shall just have to hold them until our Leader arrives and tells us what to do. Keep the ship guarded, keep them guarded; but keep them moderately comfortable, just in case they do turn out to be great heroes of the cause. '

  'Chief Commander. ' Stora saluted stiffly, turned and left the room.

  Vila was impressed by the quarters they were allocated, by the food and drink they were given and for a moment even forgot his concerns about the plan of action Avon had led him on. Not that their surroundings could be called luxurious; but considering that most people whom Vila came across instantly threw him into prison, it seemed a reasonable approach. He made his point of view well known.

  Avon for once was willing to let Vila chatter. The room was certainly bugged, and with the Commander uncertain as to who they were it was obvious that every word would be recorded. Eventually however, Vila got tired of talking to himself. He looked at Avon for direction. Avon concluded his detailed examination of the room and brought Vila's attention to five points where the bugs were located. None of them, fortunately, was a visual link. 'I don't know about you two, but I am certainly going to rest. I feel like I've been battered from here to the other side of the Universe, ' announced Avon in the guise of his new persona. As he spoke he led Vila to the first bug, and mimed the removal of it gently. 'So let's keep it quiet, ' he said ambiguously, and delicately Vila applied his skills.

  As the final device was removed Avon went to the bathroom and turned on the water supply. The others joined him. 'There are bugs against the main door located on the outside, ' he said. 'The sound of the water should make it harder for them to hear. If they can hear nothing they'll just assume we've all gone to sleep. '

  'What are we going to do?' Vila demanded through
clenched teeth. 'We're in here, the ship is guarded, and sooner or later they are going to find out we are not on their side, whatever their side is. And if they can't find out they'll just hold us here. '

  'I thought you welcomed the luxury, ' Koreli said.

  'Not as much as I value my life, ' Vila told her.

  'Whatever they discover, ' said Avon, returning to the subject in hand, 'they will find that we have been through the black hole. So even if they do find out we are not supposed to have been through, they will quickly work out that we know one hell of a lot, and that means we are worth keeping alive, to find out what we know and how we come to know it. As long as we are alive we stand a chance of finding out what is going on. '

  'I don't like it, ' said Vila.

  'That hardly seems the point. '

  'But we can't just sit here for days on end, ' Vila objected.

  'We're certainly not going to do that. Once you have opened the door out of here I suggest we go for a walk. Since nobody seems to know what is going on we ought to get away with it, and if we don't then we just say that memories started coming back and we wanted to check them out. 'As Avon had presumed from its shape and style, the station was built on standard lines, and he was easily able to work his way round without losing a sense of direction. The outer rim corridor curved gently beneath their feet as they passed silver door after silver door. The walls too were curved and packed with cables and trunking, back-up circuits, and every fifty yards there were helpful maps of the whole location. Certain areas, however, were significantly not named. After five minutes Avon led the way down an interior corridor, and stopped outside an unmarked door. It looked the same as every other door to Vila, but he made no objection when Avon ordered it opened quickly. The lock was complex but the principle well known. It took less than a minute.

  Avon entered carefully and looked around. As he had hoped, the room was empty. Korell and Vila followed rapidly and closed the door after them. Inside they found a square room measuring no more than twenty feet each way. One wall was totally taken up by a range of computer hardware, newly installed by the look of it and clearly fixed into a locked pattern. 'Watch the door, ' Avon commanded before settling down in front of the main screen at the centre of the control panels.

  Avon, as always, worked consistently and with a clear mind. Korell, as always, remained relaxed and calm. Vila, as always, was tense, fretful and about to panic.

  At the computer Avon touched a number of keys and watched the displays respond, then touched more controls in response to the information he gathered. At one moment he called up an outline of the entire base on the screen, but after a few moments' study he returned to his questioning of the machine. Aware that every time he touched a control it would be recorded on the audit trail and eventually discovered, Avon kept the routine short and was completing the final run of questions when Vila's stage whisper told him someone was approaching. He ushered Vila behind the door and left Korell standing in the middle of the room. The door slid open and two uniformed guards came in. They looked at the beautiful lady facing them. She smiled; they hesitated. The hesitation was enough to enable even Vila the chance to render one of the guards unconscious with a sharp blow to the back of the neck. Avon dealt with the other.

  'Take the guns, ' Avon announced. 'I don't think we have too much time. '

  'What did you find out?' demanded Vila as they left the computer room.

  'Vila, if I stand here and tell you now you won't live long enough to make much use of the information. Move. '

  'Put like that, ' said Vila already on the run, 'it seems a reasonable suggestion. '

  As they moved back along the outer corridor Avon called up the ship, ordering preparation for immediate launch followed by maximum power away from the station. As Blake confirmed, Avon shut down transmission.

  The group turned a corner. Ahead were two guards who looked up in surprise. Avon, Vila and Korell slid to a halt. All eyes seemed to focus on Avon. Slowly, so as not to cause any alarm, he moved his hand to his pocket and brought out a small box. It had two slight indentations on one surface. From his other pocket Avon removed a tiny phial. Delicately, watched all the time by the advancing but puzzled guards, he dropped two minute specks of liquid into the indentation. 'Whatever you see, ' he said quickly to Korell and Vila, 'ignore it. Keep heading for the ship. '

  8

  'They were twenty feet across, crawling straight through the walls, with teeth ten feet high, covered in blue slime and smelling awful, ' said Vila. 'It's a good job I'm made of resilient stuff, otherwise I wouldn't have made it. '

  'You aren't and you didn't, ' said Koreli.

  rWhat?'

  'You are not made of resilient stuff and you didn't make it. At least not on your own. After five seconds you collapsed on the ground whimpering like a two-year-old who's been left by his mother. If I hadn't picked you up and led you by the hand you'd still be there. '

  'Wonderful, ' said Vila. 'You really know how to make me feel good. Still, you didn't see those creatures. Twenty feet across... '

  'Thirty feet actually. What I saw were translucent, thirty feet across, like eight separate snakes coming out of one central body. They were able to kill anything just by wrapping one tentacle around the neck. '

  'But mine were... '

  'Shut up. ' It was Avon, concluding work at the computer. He turned to Koreli. 'According to the station console they have five unmarked freighters going between this time space and another. They travel out via Skat and eventually come back via the black hole. Whilst they are away they are stealing arms, plasma shielding, and a dozen other raw materials that can be used apparently to stage a very very large attack on the central institutions of the Federation. '

  'And by gathering everything outside this Universe they can do it all in absolute secrecy. ' Vila was pleased with himself at his deductions.

  'Certainly this scale of operation would cause a lot of

  comment if done on the door step of the Federation. But that is not the point. '

  'No?' Vila was crestfallen.

  'No. It can't be, can it?' It was Koreli who had realised the implications. 'Blake told us that we would start to break up after we stayed too long on the other side. '

  'So?' Vila still didn't quite understand.

  'So Vila, by implication anything from the other side, like the guns and the shields and everything else they gather over there must eventually be quite unstable and useless in this universe. '

  'Maybe they haven't realised yet. '

  'They must have because they have been doing this trafficking for months. There is only one reason why they should be bothering to bring back junk. '

  'To give it to the Federation?' suggested Vila doubtfully.

  'For the people behind this operation, getting the sygnum and RT Alloy from the other side is only part one. Once here they are selling it on to Federation outposts as new supplies. In the shipments they'll probably mix up some good weapons and materials with the decaying stuff. Now they have an advantage. Blake told us we would start to decay and the ship would start to break up in a matter of days. But according to the computer on the station the smaller the object, the slower it takes to break up. By the time the recipients of the weapons find out that some of them are not working it will be long past the time these people need. The Federation will be in turmoil, half the troops will be without proper weapons, and when things like that happen the first thing the Federation does is kill off some of its senior officials. '

  'So who is behind this?'

  'Not who, what. '

  'What?'

  'Orac. ' Avon spoke the name harshly.

  'Then that means Servalan. '

  'Quite probably. '

  'So Servalan wants an all-out attack on the Federation. A civil war. '

  'And what do we do about it?'

  'Go to the fifth sector. '

  Vila and Korell looked blank.

  Avon gave them more information.
'To get as far out of the way as possible. '

  And with that he strode from the room.

  'What is in the fifth sector?' Vila asked Korell.

  'Stars, planets, comets, debris... You name it, it's all there. '

  'OK. You're not going to tell me either. '

  'Vila, if I knew what Avon was up to I might not tell you, but I would tell you that I knew. '

  'Very comforting. What are you going to do?'

  'Work it out. ' And Vila was left alone on the main deck.

  The thief sat and pondered, gave up and went and got a drink. Carefully he poured a little onto KAT's receptors.

  'What would you do in my position?' he asked as the machine considered the latest concoction.

  'Add some Syrian 72 Sir, ' KAT replied.

  'I don't mean that. I mean about Avon. And Korell. And this ship. I'm turning into a navvy. Doing odd jobs. Opening a couple of doors from time to time and that's it. It was all right when there were seven of us. But now... 'He changed the topic of conversation. 'Do you know that I really do have an alpha plus rating? That's not just a story - it's not a boast, you know. '

  'Sir, I know that. You were rated alpha plus from the age of three. You began to fake your questionnaires from the age of seven to avoid going into the Military Academy. When you got into the lower classes you found you could control those around you with your schemes, and get away with your petty thefts. So behaving stupid became a habit. But you then found that as a lower grade citizen you had few rights and fewer options in the workplace, and pushing truckloads of rubbish around the lower levels was not your idea of fun. So your thieving got more sophisticated and you learned to open locks. There are some that say you were the greatest thief of the whole second century. '

  'Do they? Really?' Vila perked up a little. 'But you're right. I couldn't get back. Acting became a way of life. Now I'm stuck with it. ' 'Does it worry you Sir?'

  'Sometimes. I mean sometimes I really do get afraid. Like really scared. I don't have Avon's hardness or Korell's coolness. But being thought of as stupid is beginning to pale a little as a way of life. Especially as I seem to be doomed to spending the rest of my life with Avon. ' 'So how do you intend to make life better?' 'By impressing Avon and Korell I suppose. Then they'll treat me with more respect. ' 'Sir, you do have a problem. ' 'Do I?'

 

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