Blake's 7 - 04 - Afterlife

by Tony Attwood

  'You don't know what Avon is planning. '

  'That's right. I have a problem. Avon. It's always Avon. '

  'Then, Sir, solve the problem. Avon won't expect you to know, so you will always be one jump ahead of him. '

  Vila was suddenly wide awake. It appealed. And besides it wouldn't be hard work. The computer would do it all. Vila turned to Blake. 'I want you to solve a problem for me, ' he announced. 'Define the problem, ' said Blake. 'Avon is taking us into the fifth sector. He must have a plan, and I don't know what the plan is. ' 'Why must he have a plan?' asked Blake. 'He always has a plan, ' Vila told him. 'Very well. We assume he has a plan. Since the directional computers are locked onto a course which leads into the fifth sector we can also assume he is telling the truth. We can also assume that the ultimate destination lies somewhere along our current flight plan. '

  'Good: so what lies along that flight path in the fifth sector?'

  'Several thousand planets. '

  Vila groaned. He knew it wouldn't work.

  He had a brain wave. 'Do any of them have minerals orcrystals or products that Avon might want to use to build teleport facilities?'

  'No, ' said Blake.

  Vila forced his mind into something resembling action. 'Are any of them likely locations of white holes?'

  'No, ' said Blake.

  'Well what else can it be?'

  'Sadly there is not enough background information on Avon in my data banks to answer that question. '

  'Why not?' Vila was shocked. 'You seem to know all about me. Why not about Avon?'

  'I have widely available data on a lot of Avon's background. But he is habitually secretive, and that makes it much harder to work out what is on his mind. The only solution is for you to have a look at the list of planets and see if any strike you as being of interest to Avon. '

  'Two thousand you say? Well maybe, maybe tomorrow. ' Vila was losing enthusiasm fast.

  'Sir, do it now!' KAT commanded. 'You will be angry with yourself if you let yourself down again. Do it now. You have to stay on watch, and there is nothing else to do. Blake, that esteemed custodian of the ship, Sir, will tell you if there is any danger. I will feed the list onto the screen at your position. When we have the answer then you can reward yourself with a drink, and at that stage perhaps I too may be permitted to partake of a little sustenance, Sir. Are you ready?'

  Vila gave in. 'Even the computers tell me what to do, ' he said.

  Despite himself Vila worked his way through the list of grid references and planet names, along with alternative names, local names, official Federation names and slang names for precisely one hour forty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds at which moment he stopped reading, looked up and stared blankly at the master screen in front of him for a further three minutes. Eventually he looked back at the list. 'Not again. ' Vila looked at Blake. 'He can't, can he?'

  'He can do what he wants, unless you stop him. ' Blake announced calmly.

  'You lost him. No, I must be precise - that is a virtue. I should have said, "I presume you lost him". '

  There was silence.

  'I said, I presume you lost him. Am I right?'

  Few people were able to speak to Servalan in that way and survive. Daareen was one of the few. Her mother had been a High Councillor who had backed Servalan in her bid for the Presidency and had suffered the inevitable loss of office that followed the defeat of Servalan's forces. But she had retained many friends and was virtually the only ally that Servalan kept who was by and large indispensable. Now, finding it politically expedient to remain hidden from public gaze, she used her daughter as a proxy, and gave her free reign. The girl enjoyed the experience.

  Servalan regarded Daareen impassively. She was in her late teens and showing much of what had been noted as her mother's combination of great beauty and rock hard resolve. Her cropped black hair matched Servalan's own. Indeed, beyond the confines of their own headquarters the similarities in the appearance of the pair were already being remarked upon. In one or two quarters it was suggested that their hair style combined with the flowing, revealing, highly decorated and totally impractical dresses was becoming the new fashion. If Servalan and Daareen recognised the effect they were starting to have on high fashion (and they most certainly did) they didn't acknowledge it. They tended to have slightly more important things on their hands.

  'It was Kerr Avon, wasn't it, right inside operation headquarters?' said Daareen. She emphasised the past tense and retained only the pretence of the interrogative. It was really an accusation of failure, that highest of crimes.Servalan gave up the act of silence and banged her hand on the table; but recovered and picked up the single blue rose on her desk, holding it to her face, affecting to smell the perfume. Eventually she put it back down slowly and looked up at her ally, attempting through her slowness and deliberation to regain the psychological advantage. 'He got away because our security system is designed to maintain the lowest of profiles and to keep information secure. We do not issue pictures of the criminals of the galaxy to all the guards. '

  'Perhaps, ' Daareen said, in an equally measured but emphatic voice, 'that is where you go wrong. Avon may be a criminal to the Federation but to us he could be immensely valuable. Do you realise how much information that man must have locked up in his head? Apart from being brilliant with computer hardware he has experience of stardrives working at above TD12, he has worked with at least two quite separate teleport systems, and from what I know of Avon he has probably worked out what makes them tick. And I hear he is starting to develop quite an ability in redesigning software too. '

  Servalan stood and paced around the office. It had become more decorative than she would have liked - Daareen would never agree to stand whilst Servalan sat, so the room had a visitor's chair. It was that one extra chair that made Servalan feel the room was 'over decorated. ' The chair interfered with her pacing, forcing a slight detour each time she marched across the golden floor. She looked at Daareen. Her pure black dress contrasted vividly with the pure white walls. 'Of course I know all that, ' she exclaimed. 'But if you are suggesting that Avon would ever willingly agree to work with us you are mistaken. ' Servalan looked exasperated. 'He trusts no one, not even his own crew. Besides we have Orac now, which, if I can remind you, is how we got the Skat project into full production. '

  'Then why didn't Orac tell us about Avon?'

  'One, because Avon is using some new device which generates non-tarriel random wave emissions, and two because he seems to be fascinated by this MIND myth. Avon is supposed to be the great logical thinker, but he is acting out of type following a myth, so even Orac has problems trying to work out what is going on. And third,

  Avon told Orac a lot of things but he rarely gave Orac reasons, and Orac never asked. Now all this may give credence to your view on his brilliance. And I know all the incredible things he has done. ' She lingered on the word 'incredible' and spread her hands. 'But there are more important things in the Galaxy than Avon. He is human, and he is vulnerable, but he is still not our top priority. Becoming transfixed with Avon is not an error your mother would make. '

  As the speech continued so Servalan's voice had become more mocking, pushing Daareen about as far as she could be pushed. The girl had more patience than Servalan, but inside she contained the same viciousness and pure brutality. Each knew the other would kill instantly. But for the moment each needed the other.

  Daareen was persistent. 'Who were the two with him?'

  'One was Vila Restell. A good thief but otherwise harmless, useless and stupid. One of the originals - the least effective. ' '

  'And the other?'

  'A girl, Korell Maarn. One of my agents. She stays with Avon, watches, monitors, and when I'm ready she'll come back and report. '

  'And you don't doubt her integrity, letting Avon into the station?'

  'She didn't know about this operation any more than Avon did. She helped us get Orac - I would think that is quite a recomm
endation for the time being, wouldn't you?'

  'Very well. ' Daareen seemed appeased for the moment. 'But one question remains. What will Avon do now?'

  'Spend time working on ways to use whatever information he found out here. From what was gathered when he reached the station he didn't know much about what was going on, and his ship, although fast, showed no signs of any modifications beyond the drive and the defence mechanisms. He can't take the information to the Federation since he would be recognised instantly and killed. And there's not much he can do with the knowledge of how touse the reality distort on Skat - at least not much to our disadvantage. '

  Daareen looked unimpressed. She walked across the room, and inserted the key into the translucent box of spinning lights on the table.

  'Orac, what do you deduce Avon will do now?'

  'It is obvious, ' the machine said. 'As Servalan has pointed out already, he will try to use the information he has on your project for his own advantage. '

  'How will he do that?'

  'By extrapolating the logical sequence of events, and working out what you intend to do. That will lead him to the conclusion that you want to take over the Federation. Avon thrives on confusion. Where there is confusion in administration he can act best of all. He will work out a plan which will come into operation as and when you attempt to take over control of the Galaxy. '

  'What form will his plan take?'

  'It will involve computer-based fraud. Vila's skills will enable Avon to steal any documents he needs and also open any locked computer entrances. His own skills are more than enough to pull off something very large. At least ten times bigger than his last attempt. '

  'Which failed, ' said Servalan.

  'Because he relied on others. This time he relies only on Vila - who is ultimately expendable. '

  To Daareen it seemed for a moment that Orac was ready to say more, but nothing further emerged. She took out the key. 'I wonder where he will make his base?' she said, but Servalan did not answer.

  9

  Vila's newly acquired information left him with a problem. Most of the knowledge he had gained in recent years had been either passed on to Avon, or in moments of crisis used immediately. But Vila knew that going to Avon's cabin and confronting him with the discovery would probably end up with little more than a closed door in his face. It would certainly not bring about a democratic vote - and even if it did he had no idea which way Koreli would vote, nor that Avon would actually abide by any decision taken.

  Vila returned to KAT, told him of the answer he had worked out and asked the computer for advice.

  'Sir, I don't have the necessary background to give that information, ' KAT told him, which as Vila replied, was not the sort of answer he was looking for.

  'Then, Sir, I suggest you do nothing, ' advised the machine. 'Avon's actions will either confirm or deny your assumptions. If you are proved to be right you may still have time to put your knowledge to good use, and if not, you will at least be well prepared if Avon chooses not to share his secret with his crew. Confronting him with the knowledge now will do no good. '

  And since that was the conclusion that Vila had already reached he decided to go along with it. Together, man and machine chose a drink.

  For three further days the ship continued its dull routine. Each of the crew took an eight hour watch followed by eight hours of research (or in the case of Vila fun and games with KAT) and then eight hours sleep. It was not a routine that made for friendliness, conversation or jollity.

  But eventually the routine was broken. The problem started with Blake.'I am sustaining interference, ' the computer announced.

  'What?' asked Vila, on watch at the time.

  Unhelpfully Blake repeated itself.

  'What sort of interference?' demanded Vila.

  'My primary circuits controlling the directional computers are malfunctioning. Each time overrides are implemented the override itself is broken. '

  'You mean we are going off course?'

  'Not yet, but it could possibly happen. Meanwhile... The problem is spreading. '

  Vila leaned across his control panel and pressed the intercom which worked throughout the whole ship.

  'Avon, I think you had better come here. Blake is having a heart attack. '

  Instantly awake, Avon ran half the length of the ship to the control room, accused Vila of feeding adrenalin to the ship's computers and demanded a report from the machine, before he even reached his position.

  The computer remained silent. Avon looked at the bank of instrumentation that represented the ship's functions. 'Run back the log from just before you called me, ' he told Vila. Vila did it and Avon heard Blake's last remarks. After that there was silence.

  Avon pressed the intercom and called Koreli to the control room. He broke contact before there was time for a reply.

  'We appear to have full functions as long as we operate manually, ' Koreli told him when she arrived. 'But with the auto-repair circuits out it's going to be a long job to sort out the faults. ' Avon moved across to the computer console and started to remove plates of controls, chips, and circuits. He was stopped by Koreli. 'We're moving off course, ' she said.

  'Then put us back on course. You're the pilot. '

  Koreli ignored the comment. 'There's a planetary system about twenty light years away. We seem to be slowing down and bearing away to it. '

  'Compensate, ' ordered Avon. 'Put us back on the right course, and stay with it. Call me if there is a fraction of

  deviation. Vila, start removing the alpha sections of the master computer. ' And with that Avon crawled under the main panel at the front of the system and started removing plates of circuitry. As he did so a background noise appeared to come from Blake. Vila let slip the plate he was removing. 'Dropping delicate computer equipment is not the best way to repair it, ' said Avon.

  'I couldn't help it, ' Vila complained. 'It was hot. '

  Disbelieving, Avon touched the plate, and removed his hand quickly. He turned to the main bank of instrumentation and touched it gingerly. That too was overheating. Meanwhile the background sound was getting louder, and definitely coming from Blake.

  'Are we still on course?'

  Koreli confirmed.

  'Then start shutting down all non-essential functions to get rid of that noise. '

  As Koreli obeyed the sound increased. 'It's music, ' Vila announced. 'It's Blake playing music. '

  'Not like I've ever heard, ' said Koreli. She sat back in her chair, listening intentiy.

  Avon turned to her angrily. 'You are supposed to be turning the systems off, not listening to the background. '

  Koreli regained her concentration. 'Still on course. All the circuits are responding. '

  'Good. Now keep shutting down and try and remove that noise from Blake. '

  But Korell's hands hardly moved toward the console. Vila too had stopped moving. Avon called instructions above the sounds but the others seemed not to hear. He repeated his commands. Koreli heard him but refrained from continuing the shut down. She sat, eyes wide staring impassively straight ahead. The sound seemed to be telling her something. It was nothing specific, but instead something symbolic, about way of life, about people, about how to live. For a moment she wanted to say she had more important things on her mind than symbolic theorising and sociological speculation, but the sounds were insistent. Itwas as if they were able to make a direct line for centres of meaning deep within her brain. She saw images that were not images at all, pictures with no form, stories telling her that life didn't have to be like this, that everything could be different as long as she listened. It was as if she was being invited to look beyond the horizon, over the edge of the planet, over the edge of the galaxy, perhaps even beyond the very edge of the universe itself into something beyond the curve of existence, beyond reality itself...

  Avon watched what had happened to his crew. He tried to pull himself across the floor of the ship, but the sounds were insistent.
Korell was right. It was music like he had never heard before, reminding him of things past. Of his family... Even KAT became absorbed. The small computer began to follow the lead of his larger brother. The two computers began to play together. As the sound built up Korell sat impassively watching the controls, until she eventually understood. The music needed resolving. There was more, and only if she heard more would she fully understand. She made minor adjustments to the controls; Revenge slowed and started moving off course. On the screens, fully operational but unseen by the crew, a star grew larger. It passed from the centre of the screens and a small dot grew into a blue-green planet covered in cloud. On the ship only one entity remained free of the influence. Avon sensed it. 'Avon, ' whispered KAT. 'Do not be misled. The influence is on the planet, Sir. It works through the tarriel cells, not direct into your nervous system. MIND goes straight to the neural links, and this isn't MIND. ' But Avon's consciousness had gone, buried behind the all-pervading noise rising now to a vast climax as Revenge was brought into land, in a small space port in the northern hemisphere of a planet not even marked on the ship's computer-updated star charts.

  The room was quite remarkable. Avon might even have considered it beautiful had he bothered to cultivate a sense of aesthetics. There were long wooden tables probably

  carved by hand, exquisite high-backed chairs, and tall pure blue candles burning brightiy on all sides. Above there was a balcony that those born on Earth a thousand years before might have recognised as a minstrels' gallery. That Avon saw it merely as a means of possible escape was neither here nor there to his captors.

  Gaining consciousness Avon rapidly tested his options for movement - arms, hands, legs, head, and discovered himself not to be held in place by any restraints. Moving cautiously he found he could put the weight on his legs. He raised himself - just far enough to acknowledge that there were no hidden force shields. He logged the information for future use.