Archangel

by Scott Harrison

  Bercol says, ‘But what good would Blake’s lot be? I would have thought that they’d be quite useless.’

  Servalan says, ‘Don’t underestimate the sheer tenacity and resilience of Blake and his team. I’m sure that Blake, if asked, could provide us with quite an impressive list of names of all those people who have underestimated him over the years. It shames me to admit it, gentlemen, but I feel that both my own and the President’s name would be on that list.’

  Bercol says, ‘But they’re far from indestructible. That little demonstration at Control proved that. Apparently they left their friend’s body where it fell, which sounds like cowardice to me.’

  Servalan doesn’t agree. ‘Not cowardice, Councillor, but the ability to adapt. We’ve always seen Blake as a sentimentalist, a man both driven and trapped by his own emotions, but we were wrong. If it suits him he is quite willing to turn his back on a friend, and this makes him a dangerous man—for both his enemies and his friends. And as for not being indestructible—that can only be seen as a strength, surely.’

  Bercol says, ‘A strength? In what way?’

  Servalan says, ‘It proves that he is human and that will only make him loved all the more. Present the people with someone that cannot be hurt or destroyed and they will call him a monster; give them a mortal man who will stand up and fight for them in the face of pain and death, yet still find the courage to carry on fighting with each new day, and they will proclaim him a hero!’

  The three fall silent for a moment.

  Rontane is intrigued. ‘And what would be the point of all this? Turn Blake into some sort of puppet to exert pressure on the dissident worlds? Control Blake and you will control the people, is that it?’

  Servalan throws back her head and laughs. ‘Oh, Secretary Rontane, if only it were that simple. What we need to do is start treating Blake as though he were an illness: a malignant and rather aggressive form of cancer that is spreading itself through the body of the Federation, simultaneously infecting and destroying all the good work we have built up over the years.’

  Rontane grimaces. ‘A rather unattractive metaphor, but apt. And what do we do with this cancer of ours?’

  Servalan says, ‘Why, cut it out, of course. Remove it from the body and we remove the infection.’

  Bercol says, ‘Surely that would make Blake a martyr?’

  Servalan smiles. ‘Not if he were to have a sudden change of heart, throw off his rebellious lifestyle and embrace the Federation instead. Think about it, Blake not only working for us but actually helping us track down and eliminate all the dissident groups and terrorists cells from here to the outer worlds. I need hardly tell you gentlemen that the effect would be absolutely devastating: morale would be crushed and trust would be totally shattered. No-one would know who they could trust anymore. Pretty soon all dissident activity would collapse, leaving their groups in chaos.’

  Rontane is nearly convinced. ‘But what about this electromagnetic feedback that killed the original seven, what guarantee do we have that this won’t just happen again?’

  Servalan holds up a hand. ‘The electromagnetic feedback did not strictly kill the original seven, merely exacerbated the problems. Hurried them along, you could say.’ She smiles. ‘Nevertheless, I’m glad you reminded me. Excuse me, gentlemen.’ She reaches forward, operates the communicator on her desk. ‘Harmen, could you send Dr Gemill in now.’ She clicks the communicator off. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I asked Dr Gemill to stand by, just in case. It would seem that he’s developed a neural inhibitor serum called Neurotek 50 that could be the answer to this very problem.’

  Rontane nods. He is not fooled for a second. ‘What an amazing coincidence that we should be talking about this now at exactly the same time as a new serum is developed quite independently.’

  Servalan smiles, displaying a set of very white, very even teeth. ‘Yes, isn’t it just!’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘You’re insane, do you know that?’

  It wasn’t the first time someone had told her that and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Servalan smiled. Those words always amused her: people usually said them with the implication that she was somehow different to the others, that everyone else (including themselves) were quite sane and completely normal.

  ‘Show me someone who claims not to be and I’ll show you an idiot and a liar,’ Servalan told him.

  Blake frowned. ‘You’ve got to see that what you’re planning to do is just…’ he scrabbled for the word.

  ‘Insane?’ Servalan suggested.

  He hesitated, trying to hide his obvious annoyance. ‘It won’t work. No-one is ever going to believe that I betrayed them. No-one.’ Blake pointed towards the cadavers. ‘And what do you imagine will happen when they see us looking like that? Don’t you think it’ll give the game away, with us walking around like patchwork dolls?’

  Servalan threw her head back and laughed. ‘Oh, come on Blake, these were made five years ago. Don’t you think our expertise has moved on a little since then? We’ve had time to perfect the procedure, to iron out the wrinkles. As if I would just walk away and leave all this.’

  ‘When the Administration began its mutoid programme, twenty years ago, the President stood up in front of his people and assured them that this would not be the first step towards genetic engineering,’ Blake said, his voice echoing around the Cradle room. ‘He swore that the aim of the Mutoid Development Programme was to replace humans in extreme or hazardous conditions where human life would be in danger, such as asteroid mining and terraforming.’

  ‘There’s a very simple explanation for why he said that,’ Servalan said.

  ‘And what’s that?’ asked Blake.

  ‘He was lying.’

  Blake decided to try a different tack. ‘Did you know their names? Their real names?’

  Servalan wagged a finger at him in mock chastisement.

  ‘I know what you’re trying to do, Blake, and it’s not going to work.’

  ‘I take it you wiped their memories. Isn’t that what you do with mutoids?’ Blake said, refusing to give up on his chosen course of action.

  ‘These were much more than mere mutoids,’ said Servalan. ‘Much more. These were supposed to be the future—Homosapiens Point Two, if you like. Where human and technology finally converge, until one cannot exist without the other.’

  ‘And what about them?’ Blake nodded towards the nearest body. ‘Did they get a choice in all this? Did anyone stop to ask them if they wanted to be a part of this?’

  ‘Guinea pigs, that’s all they were,’ Servalan replied. ‘Does a scientist care about the opinions of his lab rats?’

  Blake looked angry now. He stepped towards her, his hands raised, fists clenched. The troopers reacted immediately, swinging their rifles up to cover him, but Servalan indicated for them to lower their weapons.

  ‘These were not rats, Servalan,’ Blake shouted, his eyes blazing. ‘These were people, and you tortured and killed them!’

  His words delighted her. ‘Such anger, Blake, such passion. I must try and preserve that when your personality has been erased.’ She turned to the trooper at her side and he snapped smartly to attention. ‘Section Leader, take them to Dr Gemill. Tell him that he now has the first batch of new test subjects with my compliments.’ Servalan thought for a moment, before adding. ‘On second thoughts, leave the girl with me. Let Gemill know that he will have the rest of the rebels by the end of the day.’

  The trooper saluted smartly, then Blake and Vila were led quickly from the room, leaving Cally alone with the Supreme Commander.

  *

  ‘Right, you two, up. On your feet, let’s go.’

  Kodyn jabbed the muzzle of his gun at the two rebels as he leant against a nearby console. Avon had been right about one thing: whatever he’d done to himself to get the transmitter working again had almost killed him. His skin was deathly pale, his face gaunt, his dark eyes sunken and hollow. The front of his tunic was dre
nched with blood as though there was some kind of fresh, gaping wound beneath, and it clung to his emaciated frame like a second skin.

  He waved the gun again, this time in the direction of the power room door. ‘I said up, now. We’re going back to the flight deck.’

  ‘We’ll only move if you tell us what you’re doing, why you’ve dismantled the power conduits,’ Jenna told him stubbornly.

  Kodyn bared his teeth; it took Jenna a second or two to realise that the man was actually attempting to grin at her. ‘I could always just shoot you here, it doesn’t really matter to me one way or the other. I only need one of you, but I would prefer it to be you rather than your friend.’

  ‘It’s a bomb, isn’t it?’ Avon said, getting Kodyn’s attention. ‘You’re turning the Liberator into a giant bomb.’

  Kodyn shook his head even though it was obviously painful to do so. ‘No, no, no! We’re not doing this here. If you want to start playing guessing games you can do it on the flight deck. Now move!’

  With great difficulty Kodyn cut their bonds, then stepped quickly away while they got to their feet. Despite the pain, he was keeping a remarkably clear head and Avon found that he had no other choice but to be impressed with the man.

  They wandered out of the power room and Kodyn followed, keeping three paces behind them all the way up to the flight deck. Once they were there, Kodyn ordered Avon to go to the seating area while he lead Jenna across to the pilot module, prodding her in the back with his gun to hurry her along.

  As she slid into the module Zen sprang into life, as though its sensors had registered their sudden appearance on the flight deck.

  ‘INFORMATION: A MALFUNCTION HAS OCCURRED IN THE POWER CONDUITS RESULTING IN A DANGEROUS BUILD UP OF TRALLION ENERGY. REPAIR CIRCUITS ARE NON-RESPONSIVE, IMMEDIATE ACTION IS ADVISED.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Jenna asked.

  Kodyn waved a dismissive hand. ‘It doesn’t matter what it means, just keep your eye on those controls.

  ‘It means that when we hit that facility down there the explosion will be at least five times as big as normal,’ Avon shouted over his shoulder.

  Kodyn flicked the muzzle of his gun in Avon’s direction. ‘Shut it!’

  Avon jumped to his feet, spinning on the spot until he was facing Kodyn. ‘Crash this ship onto the surface of that planet and you’ll have a pretty impressive explosion, but by dismantling the conduits you allow trallion energy to mix with the oxygen inside the ship and the molecules become massively unstable—the result, an explosion so spectacular it will make the asteroid strike that killed the dinosaurs on Earth look insignificant by comparison.’ He stared across at Kodyn. ‘Tell me I’m wrong.’

  ‘You don’t have to sound so impressed,’ Jenna snapped.

  Avon smiled. ‘Well, you have to admire the simplicity of it.’

  ‘And while you’re admiring it we all die.’

  The gun swung back to Jenna again. ‘It will be worth it to rid the Federation of that evil down there. End it now before they can start it back up again, erase every last shred of data from existence. Don’t you see? She’s down there, I have to destroy her now while I still can, destroy her for good!’

  Jenna asked, ‘Destroy who?’

  ‘Servalan!’ Avon shouted. ‘I might have known she’d be involved.’ He smiled grimly. ‘You know, it might be worth sacrificing our lives and the ship just to deal with her once and for all. It’s only a pity we won’t get to see her face when she realises.’

  But Kodyn was shaking his head. ‘No, not Servalan. I don’t care about her. Tala’s down there.’ He gave an anguished moan. ‘She was part of the experiment. I made her into a monster.’ He looked from Avon to Jenna then back again. ‘I had no choice—you must understand that. I had to do it to protect Katri. If I hadn’t done it, they would have taken her as well.’ His eyes were wide, his breathing fast and panicked. ‘They promised me Katri would be safe, unharmed if I used…But I can’t let Tala remain like that, you see, I love her too much.’

  ‘Who are Tala and Katri?’ Avon asked.

  When Kodyn Tam replied, his voice was just a whisper. ‘My daughters.’

  *

  Servalan was smiling, which was always a bad sign.

  ‘There is a herd of creatures on my home world of Auron called the Goethi that live in the dry, waterless areas of the northern hemisphere. They say that before one attacks it will grin at you, not simply bare its teeth or growl, but actually grin at you, as though it wishes to be your friend.’ Cally pointed a finger at Servalan. ‘That is what I think of every time you smile.’

  The words had no effect whatsoever on Servalan’s smile, if anything they just made it that little bit wider. ‘That is a lovely story, Cally, thank you.’

  ‘There is no point continuing with this conversation.’ Cally shook her head stubbornly as if to emphasise the point. ‘I will not call the Liberator, no matter what you do or say.’

  Servalan sighed somewhat theatrically, as though this news saddened her. ‘Oh, Cally, you disappoint me. I chose to speak with you over Blake and the coward because I have always considered you to be the most reasonable, the most intelligent of Blake’s crew.’

  ‘And flattery won’t work either,’ Cally snapped. ‘Empty words, Servalan. They always are with you.’

  ‘What if I were to spare you the process?’ said Servalan, causing Cally to look up at her sharply. ‘Give you special consideration, as it were. Demonstrate my gratitude for your help?’ Servalan reached out a hand and gently caressed Cally’s cheek. ‘All you have to do is give me the Liberator—oh, and Orac of course—and the rest of your colleagues will be turned over to Gemill to undergo the Archangel process.’

  Cally reached up and swatted the hand away from her face. ‘I’d rather die.’

  ‘Oh, we won’t kill you,’ Servalan assured her. ‘We’ve got something much worse than that planned.’

  She clicked her fingers and a trooper stepped smartly forward and clasped Cally by the arms, clamping them together, holding her down. Servalan reached forward and grasped the Auron woman’s face, this time a little less gently. In her other hand she was holding something flat and metal. Light glinted dully off its sharp, angled edges.

  ‘I really didn’t want to have to do this, but you really leave me with no choice,’ said Servalan apologetically.

  ‘If you want the Liberator why don’t you just order your ships to take it?’ Cally asked calmly.

  ‘I need all of you alive and unharmed.’ Servalan glanced down at the surgical tool in her hand. ‘Relatively unharmed. If I had my fleet come in blasting away that fool Avon would only do something ridiculously heroic, like get himself killed.’ And when she smiled there was almost a hint of affection in there. ‘And I really wouldn’t want that.’ Then she shook her head and glanced up at the trooper. ‘Hold her!’

  When a man burst in through the door unannounced, Cally was greatly relieved for the interruption, even if it was soon clear that he was just another of Servalan’s lackeys. He clattered to a halt just inside the doorway, offering his Supreme Commander a rushed and somewhat untidy salute.

  Servalan stared across at him for several long seconds and the trooper blinked back at her in confusion. ‘Well?’ she said at last. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Hannes has picked up something on the detectors, ma’am. I think you’d better come and see for yourself.’

  With an expansive sigh, Servalan strode across the room towards the untidy officer, the stole flying behind her like a vapour trail. ‘I’m busy. Is there no-one in this squad with a brain of their own? Must I take care of everything?’

  And with that she stormed out of the room slamming the door behind her.

  *

  The Section Leader snapped to attention as she swept in, then quickly relaxed again.

  ‘What is this all about, Section Leader?’ Servalan asked.

  The trooper nodded towards the tracking console in the far corner and the communications
officer that sat hunched in front of it. ‘It’s Hannes, ma’am, he’s been tracking the Liberator ever since they entered the system. So far the ship’s been pretty well behaved. Fixed orbital path with minute adjustments for speed and rotation, you know, the usual.’

  Servalan nodded her understanding. ‘Yes, yes, I’m well aware of the procedures for a ship in geostationary orbit.’

  The Section Leader flushed visibly. ‘Of course, forgive me, Supreme Commander. Not long ago we started to pick up a transmission signal. At first we thought it might be coming from inside the base, so we performed a blanket level sweep.’ He glanced across at the communications officer. ‘Hannes, on speakers please.’

  Hannes reached forward and flicked a switch. At first the pulsing was barely audible, then Hannes reached forward again and dialled up the volume.

  Servalan had heard that sound before somewhere, she was sure of it. But something was different this time. The beats between the pulses were all wrong, and there was a definite up-shift in the cadence. She looked at the Section Leader, hoping that he might tell her what she was supposed to be listening to. When he didn’t take the hint she said, ‘It could be static interference from the facility’s power core.’

  ‘That’s what we thought at first, but it’s not coming from down here, it’s coming from up there.’ And he aimed a finger at the ceiling. ‘On board the Liberator.’

  ‘Orac, then.’

  ‘Unlikely. According to the results of the blanket sweep there’s an 82 percent probability that we’re picking up Tam’s transmitter signal again.’

  For the first time since entering the room Servalan seemed to take an interest in what the Section Leader was saying. ‘That’s impossible, he’s back on Dionysus. Blake left him in the infirmary.’

  But the officer shrugged. ‘Not according to the detectors, ma’am. If the data is correct, then Tam’s currently on board the Liberator.’