azdak

Absence of Information Part 2


7.

Bloody hell fire, that'll teach me to start drinking so early in the evening. I'm still not totally sure it wasn't an alcohol-induced hallucination. Yes I am. I knew I had to keep a clear head for the card game, I can't have had that much. No, she was real, all right. Soolin. Bloody hell, who would have thought it? How can somebody do that to you, rise up from the dead and walk into your life and just say "Hi, Vila," as cool as a cucumber? I must have looked a right Charlie, flapping my arms and hissing at her, not the welcome she was expecting at all, but really, anyone could have been listening. You'd think Soolin of all people would know about akas and pseudonyms and whatnot. Still, it was good to see her again, really good, and of course part of me, a little tiny part of me, got all hopeful when it saw her and thought that maybe if she'd survived and I'd survived, there might be a couple more missing-in-actions floating about the galaxy. Not Cally, of course. Or Gan. I knew there was no hope of them turning out to be alive. Or Blake either, come to that. Not after - well, anyway, she did have some good news, really really good news. I'm so pleased for Dayna, somehow I never thought of any of us having kids, but I suppose she's hardly more than a kid herself, she's got her whole life ahead of her. Whereas I can't help feeling that mine's, well - not that I'm that old, but still. Of course, I can't go and visit her now, not when she's found a bolthole - and I thought they were just an illusion! How often did we talk about finding one and giving it all up, the whole resistance thing? Never happened though. And now Dayna's been and gone and done it. A husband and a farm and everything. Good on her. I hope there are a few wild animals that come down from the hills and menace the cows occasionally, she'll get bored if there's nothing to kill. It would have been nice to see her again, though; I was fond of Dayna. She had such a good bum. But it wouldn't be fair. Better not take the risk of attracting attention, and anyway, she might not want to see me. She might want to put it all behind her, like me. So why can't Soolin? She never struck me as the obsessive type before, but I guess it just goes to show, you can never tell what someone's really like. Which I knew already. Frankly, I find it a bit unhealthy, brooding over the past like that. Much better to put it all behind you and move on. She hasn't got a hope of getting him out of Central Interrogation, even if that rat in a bloody box thinks it's found him. The security there is tighter than a warg's arse, and I don't care how nicely she asked, I am not getting involved and that's that. As far as I'm concerned he can moulder in Federation custody for the rest of his life, and the shorter that is, the better. The galaxy'll be a better place without him. No, I am not bitter! And even if I was, I've every right to be. Even after Malodaar I might have agreed - I never wanted to see him again, but I wouldn't have wanted to leave him to Central Security. It was bad enough what they did to him last time. But not after he killed Blake. That really opened my eyes. I'd thought it was just me, that he would have chucked me out of the airlock because I'm basically worthless, because if only one of us could survive, it was better for everyone else if it was him. I didn't like him for it, but I understood. But Blake, he was another matter. Blake was worth more than the rest of us put together, and Avon got narked and shot him. Just like that. He dragged Cally all the way to Terminal and got her killed trying to find Blake, and then when he did find him - ... No, there's no way I'm helping to spring that bastard. He can stay there till he rots, as far as I'm concerned.


8.

I drew a complete blank with Vila. I must say, the intensity of his reaction surprised me. I'd always thought of him as rather a gentle soul, and he certainly had to be the forgiving type to stick with a bunch of people who constantly made him the butt of their bad moods, but I suppose resentment must have been festering away inside him. And I was the surgeon who lanced the boil, judging by the spew of invective that spurted out of him. I could understand him up to a point, given that he clearly still felt loyalty towards Blake, but on the other hand anyone with half an eye could have seen that Avon didn't shoot the man out of malice. I'd have shot him myself, if he'd kept walking towards me when I had a gun aimed at him. But Vila didn't seem to see it that way.

Which put me, frankly, into a bit of a dilemma. I couldn't see any way of getting into Central Interrogation without Vila, and Vila had made it quite clear there was no way I was going to talk him round. On the other hand, I had invested altogether too much in the way of time and resources into this plan to give up just because Vila didn't feel like it. In the end, I decided to rope Dayna in. She knew Vila much better than I did, and he had seemed genuinely delighted to hear she was alive, so perhaps he would respond better to her. I felt bad about disturbing her peace, but I hoped she would see the urgency of the situation, and if she didn't, well, unlike with Vila I had some leverage with her. Of course, I hoped it wouldn't come to that. She'd always seemed quite fond of Avon, insofar as anyone could be fond of him, and I think he was a bit of a father figure for her, in an odd if not quite dysfunctional way, so I didn't think she would let him down now.

Unfortunately, it did come to that. Dayna was thrilled to see me, even more thrilled to hear Vila was alive, and was appalled to hear that Avon had been incarcerated in Central Interrogation for over a year. But not so appalled that she was willing to leave Alderon to try to rescue him.

"I'm sorry, Soolin, I really am, but you must see that I've got other responsibilities now. I can't leave the baby - suppose something happened to me? You don't know how much I wish I could help, and I know you think I'm letting Avon down, but I'd be letting Hal down just as badly if I went and got myself killed."

Apparently she'd nearly called the baby Kerr, except that it upset her husband when she brooded over the old days too much, and anyway she preferred not to be reminded of GP. Well, wouldn't we all - even Vila wouldn't talk about it, except to say that he'd pretended to be stunned and then sneaked out when everyone was distracted - but not thinking about something doesn't mean it hasn't happened, isn't still happening. Actually, it was that cloyingly sentimental remark about the baby that decided it for me. I stifled any regret I felt at turning her life upside down and told her that if she didn't help me now, I'd let the Federation know where she was hiding, and then where would the baby be? It got the sort of reaction I'd expected - tears and recriminations and some truly vicious threats - but she had to give in in the end. She did say something that surprised me, though.

"Why are you so concerned about Avon, anyway? What happened to "I don't give my allegiance, I sell my skills"?"

"I don't give my allegiance, not in a business relationship," I returned coolly, "but if I choose to give it, it's nobody's affair but my own." Perhaps I wasn't actually all that cool, come to think of it. But it was a good question. Why did I feel so strongly that I owed Avon something? I suppose when it comes down to it, it's because I did owe him. Dorian had been something in the way of a safe house (now there's an irony...) and if I'd had to leave Xenon then, I'd have been in a nasty situation. Avon never said anything, but he accepted me on Scorpio when he took it over, and because he accepted me, the others did too. Oh, I'm sure he had Orac check me out, he'd have been a fool not to, but he never asked me any awkward questions about how I'd ended up on Xenon, or what I'd done before. And he took me seriously and respected my opinion, even though he wasn't paying for it. I suppose in a way he was quite similar to me - he kept his mouth shut and got on with his life, and while you could see he was carrying baggage with him, he never made an issue of it. No, I felt I owed Avon a lot, and the idea that I might just leave him to the Federation when I had the means to get him out was repugnant. Besides, I needed him to fix the teleport. And if Dayna didn't share my priorities, that was her tough luck, because I wasn't going to give her any choice in the matter.


9.

Avon had just finished running a data-check on the radiation levels in the neutron blasters when Blake walked onto the flight deck. Blake - damn! He'd promised to go over the workings of the teleport with him, and knowing Blake he'd want to cash in that promise right now.

"What is it?"

"Have you finished? Because I rather thought we might go over the teleport, if you're free."

I should start up as a fortune teller, thought Avon glumly, and It would be nice to be wrong about things, just occasionally. What he said, however, was "I can think of nothing I would rather do," and hoped that he had managed to inject sufficient sarcasm into that obliging phrase.

Blake winced slightly - good, the sarcasm level must have been adequate - but said "Jolly good, shall we get on with it, then?" so there was nothing to do but go over to the computer console and begin the lesson. It was actually less painful than Avon had expected. He rather enjoyed lecturing Blake, although from time to time a vague feeling that he was being led by the nose crept over him. Surely he remembered explaining this bit to Blake before? But Blake just sat there, wholly focussed on the computer screen, an expresson of intense and rather ridiculous concentration on his face. It was so intense that Avon felt his discomfort increase - was Blake trying to make him look like a fool? Surely he'd explained this before, when he first realised that the process involved exchange of matter, rather than mere transfer? Disconcerted, he broke off, and Blake glanced up at him.

"Do go on, it's fascinating."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you can work out the implications for yourself."

"Now you're flattering me. So you need to establish a two-way signal? And how do you stop it from breaking up?"

"It doesn't break up." He glared at Blake. "Why should it? We aren't dealing with a sine wave here -" .Something prodded his memory. Something important. To cover his distraction he bent more closely towards the screen, but he could already see that the computer was no more than a box with a perspex cover, and he knew, when he turned back to face Blake, that it wouldn't be Blake sitting there.

"Are you all right, Avon?" The man's voice was all heart-felt concern, but it wasn't Blake's voice, wasn't even all that similar.

"Fine, I was just, er, just distracted by a potential problem with the signal that's just occurred to me. I'll have to think about that afterwards. All right, what was the question? Something to do with the signal?"

His mind was racing furiously. Something must have triggered this sudden emergence from the dream state - of course, the sine wave, now he remembered "Blake" asking about it last time. That had been such an irrelevant question, a problem that had bedevilled the aquitar project but played no role in the Liberator's teleport system, that the illusion had been unable to survive the sense of dissonance it provoked. And he had somehow managed to preserve the memory of that trigger word into this new dream, and once again it had broken the spell. It was unlikely that it would occur again, though - he would have to try to create a new trigger word, one that was bound to come up. Well, that wasn't difficult, given the obvious direction these hallucinations were taking. Teleport. That ought to do it.

"Blake" was asking another question, and Avon considered it carefully, stalling for time to create a plausible but misleading answer. There was something almost enjoyable about the challenge - to construct a Theory of Teleportation, convincing but unviable, entirely on the spur of the moment. He wondered how much science "Blake" knew, or whether his answers would be relayed to a more qualifed team for assessment. That was his great advantage, of course - no-one, apart from himself, was remotely qualified to assess the information he would provide. Well, himself and the real Blake. Another trigger phrase - a whole set of new memories rose out of the shadows in his mind, the sounds of gunfire and the smell of blood, and he had to fight to keep concentrating on his answers, pushing the appalling visions back into the obscurity they had come from. And all the time, at the back of his mind, he was repeating to himself over and over again "Teleport. Teleport. Teleport..."


10.

By the time we reached Freedom City, Dayna had done some serious thinking, and had pretty much changed her mind about the whole enterprise. I think leaving the baby was the hard part; once she'd got that behind her and had had a chance to remember her old life, and especially GP, it rekindled her fighting instincts. So I left it to her to go down and talk to Vila, while I stayed up on the ship and tried not to wonder how she was getting on. They were up talking half the night, but at last the call came through, and I teleported them up.

"Hi, Vila. I'm glad you changed your mind."

"Yeah, well, I never could resist a challenge. Um, Soolin? You know that if they've had him for over a year, there might not, well, there might not be much left to rescue?"

"Yes," I said, "I do realise that. And if that's the case, then I'll kill him. But either way, I'm not leaving him to the Federation. Do you understand?"

Vila looked a bit shocked, but he shrugged and said "Up to you. I'm just opening the locks," and we left it at that.

In the end, it was a very simple operation. It was a bit of a hike to the interrogation facility from where we landed, especially since it was pitch dark, but that gave Orac plenty of time to fiddle with the computer end of the security systems, and Vila did a magnificent job on the locks. We found the mysterious non-existent cell at the end of a corridor behind a steel door - Dayna and I dealt with the guards at both ends - but after Vila had opened the final door, he refused to come in with us. "I said I'd get him out for you, but it doesn't mean I want to see him," he said resolutely, and had Orac teleport him back to the ship. Dayna got a bit emotional when we actually entered the cell - I don't know exactly what she was expecting, but it all looked perfectly comfortable, if a bit spartan. There was even a rather elderly-looking computer on a desk, and a couple of doors leading off the main room suggested relatively extensive facilities. We found him in the bedroom, fast asleep. He didn't even wake up when we came in, which worried me a bit, but when Dayna bent over him, he opened his eyes. I don't know about her, but I must admit I was expecting a bigger reaction than we got - he looked surprised for a moment, but not very surprised - and when Dayna tried to give him a hug he backed right off and glared at her. I think she was slightly offended, but she covered it by handing him a teleport bracelet. He gave it a look which I thought frankly bizarre under the circumstances, a kind of weary, here-we-go-again look, and then that shutter came down over his face and he put it on and just stood there, waiting.

"Bring us up," I said, and turned to see how Avon would react to freedom. The funny thing was, he didn't. He had a remote, wary expression on his face, as if he was listening out for something that none of the rest of us could hear. That look never left him and it became increasingly unsettling over the next few days, especially since it was coupled with a curious passivity. I can't think of a single occasion when he took the initiative about anything, he just sat there and waited for us to tell him what to do. If you spoke to him, he answered, but with a disconcerting delay, as if it was taking him ages to process what he heard. I did ask him if he would have a look at the teleport - I thought having something to do might help him snap out of his detached state - but he merely said politely that he was very tired after being rescued and would I mind if we waited a bit? This was so utterly unlike Avon that Dayna started worrying that it wasn't him at all, but an android (heaven knows where she got that idea from). It was completely absurd, as Orac's analysis of the teleport data showed, but it did at least have the virtue of convincing Vila, who had been lurking in his cabin since we got back, that he'd better take a look at Avon after all. When he walked onto the flight deck it provoked the first spontaneous reaction we'd had from Avon, a burst of astonished laughter. Vila was deeply offended and stalked off again, but his curiosity had been provoked and he couldn't resist coming back. It didn't make him feel any better, though, because Avon kept stealing sideways glances at him - no matter what else was happening, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off Vila, although if he noticed any of us watching him, he immediately looked away. I could tell it was getting on Vila's nerves, and in the end he said tartly "If there's something you want to say to me, Avon, you only have to ask."

Avon looked startled, hesitated, and then said "There isn't anything."

"Well, why isn't there? You've just been rescued from Central bloody Security by three people you thought were dead - and you can't think of a single question? I can suggest a few. How about "How did you manage to escape from Gauda Prime, Vila?" How about "Where's Tarrant? How come he's not here?" How about "Did Blake survive, too?" No, Avon, he didn't, thank you for asking, you did too fucking good a job on him, and no, Tarrant didn't make it either, and all the rest of us have left good lives behind to come looking for you, you ungrateful bastard."

At this point he appeared to become aware of the shocked silence on the flight deck. Avon was staring at him, his face completely drained of colour, and Dayna looked as if she wanted to either cry or kill someone. Vila's face was a picture as it slowly dawned on him that he had an enthralled audience for his worm-turning act, but he rallied magnificently.

"Come on, Avon, I'll take you on a tour of the ship, and we can continue our little chat in private. Aren't you curious to know where you are? Or where you're going? What's the matter, Avon? Afraid? Come on now - you know you're always safe with me."


11.

Well, he jumped about two foot, as if something had just stung him on the bum. "Ha!" I thought, "that's given you a taste of your own medicine," but then his face split into this extraordinary grin, not one of his scary ones that make you start looking behind you in case the universe is about to stab you in the back, but a genuinely happy smile.

"Well now, Vila, why shouldn't I be safe with you?" he said, still grinning like an idiot. That was when I lost it. Again.

"You complete bastard," I yelled, "I don't know why I bothered to come and rescue you. I've had it up to here - the next airlock we pass, you're going out of it, and I'd like to see anyone try to stop me!" I suddenly realised I was waving my fist around in front of his nose, which isn't a good idea with Avon, but he didn't even grab my arm, just blinked a bit. His face had lost that funny expression, sort of distant, that he'd had ever since he came on board, and for the first time I got the impression that he was looking at me, really looking at me.

"When are you going to shave that ridiculous moustache off?" he said.

And that's why Soolin let me finish off the story, as a kind of reward. It turns out he hadn't known for sure until then that we weren't all part of some kind of drug-induced hallucination to get him to tell the Federation how the teleport works. He'd thought maybe it was real this time, because they'd never used Dayna and Soolin before, and because Tarrant wasn't there, and I looked so different - apparently I shouldn't have looked different in the dream, just when he woke up out of it - but he couldn't be sure. And he hadn't dared to say anything, in case it was a dream, and he was afraid once they realised he could wake himself up, they'd increase the dosage so he never escaped from the dream again. It was me reminding him of Malodaar that convinced him it wasn't all an elaborate hoax to get him to cooperate, because he was quite sure that he'd never have told anyone what he said to me. The way he explained it, I got the impression that one reason why he was so sure he would never have mentioned it was because he was, well, ashamed - as he bloody well ought to be, but still, you can't bear grudges forever.

I wasn't sure what would happen after that. Dayna wanted to go home to Alderon and her family, of course. She said it had been fun to see us again but now she was looking forward to a bit of peace and quiet, with nothing more dangerous to worry about than a dirty nappy. Avon was obviously going to want to have a crack at the Federation - he's someone who can bear grudges forever, and anyway I could see that after recent events he badly needed to blow something up, if only to restore his sense of self-esteem. I was afraid there would be an almighty row over who got to keep Orac, but it turned out that Soolin had no objection to putting her ship, her teleport and her skills at the service of the resistance, so long as she was able to keep earning money on the side. That was hardly a condition that was likely to alienate Avon. In fact he said "I have a few ideas about that myself," and then they both turned and looked at me.

I was tempted, I must admit. I hadn't half missed the teleport over the last year or so - it would be nice to be able to waltz into the bank of my choice, without having to worry about security guards and other unpleasantnesses. On the other hand, I wasn't dead keen on going back to manning the neutron blasters and getting dumped on every time anyone was in a bad mood. So in the end we struck a deal. I'm now in semi-permanent residence on Freedom City and they come and get me whenever they need my specialist skills, on a percentage of the profits basis, obviously. Occasionally I get caught up in a little extra-curricular activity, but that doesn't happen as often as I was afraid it would. In spite of the Zukan debacle, Avon is still convinced that politics is the only way forward, so he spends a lot of time on the outer worlds trying to persuade neutral planets to join a Mutual Protection Alliance. It must be getting somewhere, as I heard someone in a bar the other day suggesting that Freedom City ought to join (that'll be the day!).

Dayna said if I come within 100 spacials of the bank of Alderon, she'll blow my head off, so I think one day soon I'm going to have to make a trip there. I never could resist a challenge.