PURRFECT REVENGE
5 079 words
A human being in Orac's position would have come quickly to the conclusion that he or she had been used, and would have thirsted for revenge. It's not nice to know that you have been taken advantage of to further the greed of others. Orac was not human however, Vila decided. Fortunately. But both and Avon failed totally to consider the fact that Orac via Ensor did however possess sufficient human traits to understand what had been done to it.
Orac resented enormously having been conned by a couple of mere human beings. Accordingly, it planned its revenge and bided its time till the way of that revenge had been fully planned, down to the very last detail. Orac being Orac, that didn't take long. Proximity to Avon had developed a deviousness of mind of which the computer had been unaware until the time had come for it to require that very deviousness.
Resentment festering as it did in the innards of a super computer is an awesome and frightening thing. It is even more so when one considers the ability of said super computer actually to do something to channel its resentment into productive revenge.
Finally Orac permitted itself the electronic equivalent of a snigger and set about putting its plan into action.
Krantor liked luxury; always had. He surrounded himself with artifacts of ancient Earth, modelled his everyday wear on that of historical figures, and kept a menagerie of animals; some of Terran origin and others not. His favourite however was the large white fluffy cat which he had cradled in his arms as he sat and brooded over the manner in which he had been hoodwinked and robbed. Toise had continually harped on his stupidity in allowing the supposedly drunken Vila and his sharp eyed companion to take off with the fortune they had won. It hadn't even been possible to get at them on their way from the casino. Manpower shortages aside, the two - and their winnings - had unaccountably disappeared; had vanished into thin air outside the Big Wheel.
They weren't the only ones who had vanished; neither Travis nor the drunkard Klyne, otherwise known as Docholli, were seen again. All in all, Krantor and Toise were fortunate to survive the wrath of Supreme Commander Servalan, who had unfortunately not vanished.
She had swept into Krantor's luxurious apartment, glared around and then slowly smiled a poisonous smile.
"Enjoy yourself, Krantor - while you are still able. The day will come - and come very soon, when the Federation will close down this den of iniquity - permanently. Places will be reserved for you two elsewhere." Then she had swung on her elegant heel and left, both the casino and the planet.
Krantor didn't know whether to be relieved or not at her departure. He settled for shedding a few bewildered salty tears into his drink and staring miserably around the room. Finally he tottered off to fall into a sodden sleep on the antique four poster bed he favoured; the one that had supposedly belonged to some long dead historical figure known simply as 'Bloody Mary'. Krantor, of course, had been conned himself; none of Mary's beds would have been large enough to have supported him.
Had he known more about the lady in question, he might very likely have considered offering the bed to Servalan as a more than suitable gift. Regardless of the origins of his bed, Krantor slept solidly but not dreamlessly. His dreams were filled with nightmares inspired by the anger of the powerful Supreme Commander.
Other people dreamed too...
"This isn't fair!" Vila moaned and Avon gave him a withering look.
"Vila, when did you ever expect anything in life to be fair?"
"But I just don't understand how Orac could have done this to us! We're his friends!"
"His friends!" Avon snorted in derision. "Vila, Orac is a computer. Computers don't have friends. The concept is probably beyond it."
"Yeah, I'd believe that." Vila was morose. "This is all your fault, I hope you realise!"
"My fault?"
"You're the one who conned Orac into shrinking itself for us - "
"And you are the one who took advantage of that fact to put on such a grossly tasteless display of greed - " He stopped and pulled a face. "This is getting us nowhere."
"You can say that again. Ah, speaking of nowhere, Avon, where d'you suppose we are?"
The other man sighed. "Much as I hate to admit it, Vila - I have no idea. If this is Orac's idea of a joke, then it's very definitely time to give that egotistical box of circuits a thorough overhaul."
"An overhaul?" Vila snorted in what was not amusement. "A bit late for that, wouldn't you say?" Then he stopped and looked around in puzzlement. "Y'know, I'm not sure where we are, but I have the vague feeling I've been here before. I'm just not sure..." His voice trailed off into silence and he shook his head nervously. "I've got the feeling I've been here before and this is not a nice place to be..."
"Stop mumbling!" Avon snapped. He reached to his belt and produced a torch which he shone around cautiously. The ground where they stood was level and smooth, resilient and faintly warm to the touch. It was obviously man made. In the distance a white cliff reared itself and beyond that was the suggestion of higher reaches, a deeper and more substantial darkness. Behind them also the ground was level and in the distance were vague shapes of darkness. But in spite of being level, it was not featureless, white in places, back in others. And there was a faint background noise of which they were only dimly aware.
Avon turned the torch off and frowned. He stared upwards, adjusting his eyes to the darkness, and then he turned his head towards Vila. "There are no stars, so - "
"Then we're either inside something, whatever it is, or - or there aren't any stars to be seen." Vila wilted under the cold look that Avon gave him, even in the darkness. "So I'm rambling. I can't help it. I always ramble when I'm nervous, and this place makes very very nervous indeed." He grimaced. "Sorry."
Avon rolled his eyes briefly and indicated the cliff ahead of them. "We'll go that way." The other man hesitated and then followed him, still muttering under his breath. The familiarity of this place bewildered him. In spite of its strangeness, he was certain he had been here before. Not many times, in fact probably just the once. He had the feeling that being here boded no good for either of them. Wherever they were, wherever this place was, it was Orac's idea. So, in spite of his earlier accusation against Avon, Vila had no difficulty coming to the conclusion then that it was Orac's fault. All Orac's fault. Well, maybe just a little bit Avon's fault too.
On the Liberator, Vila had been sleeping very soundly, dreaming ecstatic dreams about the fortune they had won, when Avon bent over him and shook him awake. Vila grunted and peered up groggily.
"Huh? What? Whassat? Whad'youwant? What's the time? Urgh..."
"Vila, wake up! Come on, this is important." Avon's tone was impatient as he pulled the other man up. Vila rubbed his eyes and looked up. He yawned.
"Urgh. All right. I'm awake. Now what do you want?"
"Orac has given me some very important information."
"So go tell Blake. He'll be interested."
"It's not information for Blake. It's for you and me."
"Huh?" Vila sat up and eyed the other man sourly. "Look, Avon, it's the middle of the night watch. Won't this wait till the morning? Then, if it's so important, Orac can tell us all everything about it."
"It can't wait. Orac says it's essential you and I hear all about it. Now. Come on, Vila. Get up and get dressed and get yourself to the flight deck. Hurry up!"
Vila moaned and groaned and muttered and mumbled as he complied, following Avon to the flight deck where Orac sat on a table in front of the lounger. Vila sat down and yawned some more while Avon addressed the small computer.
"All right, Orac. We are both here. Now proceed. Tell us what is so important that it was necessary to wake us up in the middle of the night."
"There is a quite fantastic discovery to be made by both of you. I suggest you take immediate advantage of this information. You will both be extremely rich."
Vila came wide awake.
"Go on."
Orac wouldn't give out much in the way of facts, continuing however to promise wealth, treasure and untold benefits of many kinds. As for the details however, it was vague, promising them only after Avon and Vila had agreed to do as it suggested. They stared at each other over the computer and then Vila shrugged and pulled a face.
"What have we got to lose?"
"Nothing!" Orac snapped, "compared with what you stand to gain. All you need do is follow my instructions. And they will be very precise." Its tone became pedantic in the extreme. "Unlike those of my human users, my instructions are always precise and succinct."
Avon smiled narrowly. "Very well, Orac. We agree."
"Proceed to the teleport area. I shall set the coordinates and send you down to the area where a fantastic discovery awaits you."
Vila frowned. "Ah, Orac, I'm not sure that I understand you. Liberator is on its way to Goth. We aren't near any planets, are we? Avon?"
"Incorrect." Orac responded even before Avon had the chance to open his mouth. (Orac's quick.) "I have reprogrammed Zen. Currently the Liberator is in stationary orbit above a planet. All that is necessary for you to do is to proceed to the teleport area, as already instructed. I shall give you further information when you have been teleported down."
"Avon, this sounds dangerous - "
"This sounds fascinating. Go on, Orac. Shall we have any special needs in the way of clothing or equipment on this planet?"
Orac would have sniggered if it had been human. As it was it refrained from any extraneous comments, suggesting only normal clothing and weapons. Vila still looked dubious.
"Avon, I don't think this is a good idea at all - "
"Don't be ridiculous." The computer expert fixed the thief with a cold stare. "Afraid, are you?"
"No! Well, er, maybe, just a little bit. Don't you think we ought to wake someone else up and let them know what's going on? Just in case?"
"No." It was Orac this time, cold and pedantic. "That is not necessary at all. If any other information is to be given to anyone else, be assured I shall take care of it. And I am quite capable of handling the Liberator in your absence. There are no possible crises with which I would be unable to cope admirably. Everything and everyone is safe." Its tone changed and became almost sly. "And besides, the wealth and the discovery of which I speak are yours alone."
Vila still dithered.
"Perhaps we should tell Blake what we're doing. Just in case - "
"No way!" Avon snapped. "Come on, Vila."
"I don't like this," Vila muttered, but all the same he followed Avon, burdened with Orac. He put the computer down by the teleport console and sighed. "Look, suppose you go down first, and then - "
"When I let you know it's safe - "
"I'll follow you. Yeah, that's right." Avon gave Vila a toothy grin.
"No. Come on."
Vila still hesitated. "Orac, are you quite certain about this?"
"But of course. Do not disturb yourself unduly," Orac said blandly as the two men moved to the teleport bay. "Be assured I always have your welfare at heart."
"Ah, but," Vila started to point out, "computers don't have - "
The teleport hummed and they both disappeared.
" - hearts." They both swung around, disconcerted by their sudden transfer.
"Where the hell are we?" Avon snatched at the communications link on his bracelet. "Orac!"
"Now I shall be able to determine whether or not your function is impaired by a reduction in your size!" There was malice in the computer's tone and it peremptorily closed the communications link. Avon scowled at his bracelet.
"Orac, bring us back up. Now. Now, Orac!"
Vila looked at him.
"I don't think he's going to bring us back up, Avon." He looked around and shivered. "Where are we? And what was that about a reduction in our size?" He looked frightened. "Avon, what has Orac done to us?"
"Nothing compared with what I'm going to do to it when we get back to the Liberator!" Avon snapped and Vila looked mournful as well as frightened.
"If we get back to the Liberator. I think we've just been had. I don't like this."
"Shut up, Vila." Avon had come to the same conclusion and he didn't like it either. He frowned thoughtfully. "Orac did say there was a fantastic treasure to be found down here - "
"Wherever here is, and assuming smarty circuits wasn't lying about it."
"Vila, computers cannot lie."
"Rubbish! Given the right motives, anyone can lie. Even Orac. Especially Orac. Especially since he came in contact with you."
Avon stared. "Are you suggesting, Vila, that I could teach Orac how to lie? That I have taught it how to lie?"
"Um, well, maybe I wouldn't have put it as forcibly as that. But you do have to agree, Avon, that it definitely hasn't told us everything this time."
"I suppose you're right," Avon agreed grudgingly.
They moved on slowly until they reached the cliff. Somewhat less than their combined heights, it still appeared frighteningly high to Vila. He wondered whether or not this was a good time to tell Avon he suffered from acrophobia. Casting a quick sideways glance at the other man's face, he came quickly to the conclusion that it wasn't. Avon regarded the cliff thoughtfully, then he pointed.
"Vila, this cliff is curved. You go that way and I'll go this way and we can see how big it is, and also if there's some other way up."
"Up?" Vila looked dubious. "Avon, do we want to go up?"
"If we go up," the man pointed out, his voice unusually patient, "we shall be able to see where we are. As Orac obviously isn't going to cooperate - for the moment anyway - by bringing us back up to the ship, then we had better find out where we are. And if there's anything dangerous around here as well."
Vila swallowed. "Dangerous? Like what?"
"I don't know like what. Use your imagination."
"I'd rather not. D'you really think we ought to separate? Maybe we'd be better off - safer - sticking together?"
Avon gave a sound of exasperation and pointed. "That way. You did bring a gun, didn't you?"
"Yes, but - "
"And I'm sure you're big enough to look after yourself. Now get going." He resisted the urge to add a kick to the not quite gentle shove he gave Vila to get him on his way. Then Avon started off himself in the opposite direction, one hand touching the cliff, smooth and cool under his fingers and the other hand holding his gun at the ready.
Behind him Vila still dithered, took out his gun and regarded it dubiously and finally set off, slowly and unwillingly.
Shortly later they met again and came to the rapid conclusion that the cliff would have to be scaled were further observations to be made. At least Avon came to that conclusion; Vila merely nodded dumbly in miserable agreement. Avon put his handgun away and pointed to the cliff, which seemed to him more like a wall, being obviously man made. Just exactly what it was he didn't know and didn't intend to waste time guessing about.
"It's not too high. Give me a hand up, and then I'll help you up. Right. Right?" he repeated, an edge to his voice and Vila shrugged.
"All right. I suppose." He grunted as he helped Avon. "Urgh! You need to go on a diet."
Avon's response, perhaps fortunately, was incomprehensible as he hauled himself cautiously over the edge, reaching for his gun should it be needed, and shining the torch ahead of him. He was on a wide ledge, maybe ten or twelve feet across. Before him lay something soft and smooth covering part of the ground, hanging down from the second cliff in front of him. He stood up and advanced carefully to touch the softness and lift its edge. Then he frowned. It looked like material; it felt like material - and if indeed it were, then it was enormous.
Or else, bearing in mind Orac's earlier comment, he and Vila were very small in comparison. He didn't like either conclusion but inclined to the latter, especially bearing in mind the malice in Orac's tone as it had made the comment on size. He stretched himself out on the cliff top and gave Vila a helping hand up, then they repeated their manoeuvre by circling the second cliff, finding it similar in shape and height to the first. At least this ascent would be simpler, with the hanging material for them to climb on.
Their two head raised themselves above the level of the second cliff, to a dark irregular mound of shapeless mass. Vila shook his head and sat down, not too close to the edge, while Avon moved cautiously on the soft ground covering.
Vila's head ached as more and more he was becoming convinced he had been here before. Sitting still, he became fully aware of the sound from somewhere beyond them. Avon also heard it.
At first it sounded like the throbbing of machinery, a low purring as of smoothly running cogs and wheels and small parts. It was, they both realised, a sound they had been subliminally aware of since their arrival in this place. However it seemed now that the source of the sound was not very far ahead of them in the darkness. The thief shook his head and Avon pulled his handgun out again as he shone the torch around. Then he blinked.
"Vila! Vila, come here!"
"What is it?"
Avon pointed. Before them lay a huge soft mass, maybe some twelve feet square, soft and warm and quite inanimate. He leaned forwards to touch it. The edge was firm, the rest of it soft and velvety to his touch, the softness of a thick pile carpet. Beyond it lay other similar masses, many of them, in piled up heaps.
And then Vila remembered.
"Avon! I know where we are now! This is Krantor's office - in Freedom City. He brought me in here. I remember now." He gave a laugh which was not entirely of amusement. "This is a raised lounge, covered with cushions. That's a cushion, Avon. Orac shrunk us! He really did!"
The other man stared, his eyebrows raised in astonishment. Chuckling, Vila put his own gun away and jumped onto the dark mass. "Well, now we know where we are, I'm going to have a nap!" He grinned cheekily. "Wake me up, won't you, when you get back in contact with Orac and persuade him to return us to the Liberator."
Avon looked sour. "Very funny, Vila. What about the great discovery and wealth Orac promised us?"
The thief rolled over luxuriously and regarded Avon through one opened eye.
"You still believe that?"
Avon considered briefly and then shook his head. "No, I suppose not. Well, I'm going to have a look around. You'll be here, won't you, when I get back?"
Vila stretched. "Where else is there to go? This size, Avon, I couldn't even reach the lock on Krantor's safe, let alone open it." He grinned crookedly. "Besides, he's skint. We took him for all he had. No, I'm staying here. You can explore if you like."
Avon looked disgusted and set off, failing to hear Vila's mumbled warnings as he settled himself comfortably into the depths of the cushion. "Don't fall over the wineglass or the dish of sweets. And don't wake the cat up..." Seconds later the thief was asleep, living up to his boast of being able to sleep anywhere, anytime.
The faint thrumming noise continued, still puzzling Avon. If he had heard Vila's last comment he might not have made such a determined effort to find its source. But then again, Avon being Avon, maybe he would have.
He did find both the plate and the wineglass, and fairly soon. The plate loomed ahead of him, a shiny metallic mass on which he could climb easily. It was cold to the touch, and the sweets were enormous lumps lying on its centre. Avon licked his finger and rubbed at one tentatively, grimacing and thinking unkind thoughts about Krantor's taste in sweetmeats. Fortunately the slight amount he took did not provide any sort of stimulating effect.
He climbed off the plate, peered into the depths of the almost empty wineglass and continued. Ahead of him the deep purring hum intensified as he approached its source.
Vila had slipped easily into sleep, but his subconscious mind was still at work, providing images to go with the humming sound. He saw Krantor's cat, curled up asleep on the pile of cushions. He saw the furry white beast eating titbits from Krantor's hand, opening its large mouth to show enormous pointed white teeth. He pictured it rising and stretching, flexing its strong claws. It was a large cat by any standards.
But small as Vila and Avon now were, it assumed colossal proportions.
His subconscious nudged him suddenly awake and he sat bolt upright, or as close as possible as he could manage on the enormous cushion. Aaargh! he thought to himself frantically; if the cushion were this big, then how big would the cat be?
What would Avon do when he found it?
What would it do when Avon found it?
Vila scrambled from the soft mass of the cushion and ran around in circles frantically for several moments before he came to a firm conclusion and took off in the direction in which he thought his companion had gone. He had covered no more than ten paces however when he heard an horrific screech ahead of him and he cried out in panic and shock.
Obviously Avon had found Krantor's cat.
The animal had been curled up, sleeping in its usual comfort and dreaming its usual feline dreams, its purring loud and clear as the man approached it. Not recognising the monstrous white mass for what it was, he frowned in puzzlement. After all, Avon had not been invited into Krantor's sanctum to have a friendly drink with him, as had Vila. On Earth he had seen a number of animals, including cats.
But if you are six feet tall, it is difficult to visualise how a cat would appear to you if you were only six inches tall. He stood in bewilderment, then leapt backwards as in its dream the cat flicked its tail, almost knocking Avon off his feet.
Avon reacted predictably. He drew his gun and fired at the thick white tail, unaware of anything except the fact that it, whatever it was, had had the nerve to attack him. No one and nothing attacked Kerr Avon with impunity.
Krantor's cat came awake with a scream of feline rage and pain at the burning sensation in its tail. It leapt up and whirled, one massive paw sideswiping its small attacker and throwing him high in the air, to land fortunately on yet another enormous cushion. Half stunned, Avon lay there and stared up in horror at the huge apparition that towered over him. He didn't scare easily, but this was different. Even Blake or Gan would have been scared under the circumstances. Or so he told himself. He tried to scramble to his feet but succeeded only in falling backwards from the cushion. He landed at Vila's feet as the other man raced onto the scene and promptly fell over him. Avon didn't bother wasting time trying to explain the situation and Vila was thankful to see he was unhurt. They picked themselves up and ran.
Playfully, the cat pursued them. It hadn't had so much fun in years, now that the pain of its tail was wearing off. Toys! Things to play with, to chase and eventually, to eat.
"Run, Avon! Hide!"
"Hide? Where can we hide from that?"
Their size however proved an advantage as they dodged from side to side, confusing the animal and causing it to run in all directions as they both moved nimbly. Neither had seriously considered shooting the beast, both probably coming rapidly to the conclusion that their chances of hitting it in a vital spot - and penetrating all the fat it was carrying - were slight. Besides, Vila liked cats. Small cats.
They ran, the cat bounding after them, sending cushions flying and miaowing excitedly. Occasionally it swiped at them but through good luck more than anything else they were unharmed as it missed every time. Krantor's cat was decorative, but not over endowered with feline intelligence. It was however enjoying the situation, which was more than its prey was doing. Both men were out of breath and whatever slight humour there could have been was rapidly evaporating. They paused behind the shelter of a massive cushion and Vila flicked his teleport bracelet.
"Orac! Teleport! Now, Orac!"
There was no response. Avon gritted his teeth and muttered unkind imprecations upon the computer. A huge paw dashed their temporary shelter away and the two men ran again. Avon paused only to consider and then aim one shot at the creature. Fortunately the target he chose was merely its paw, but the pain was enough to annoy the beast.
They faltered at the edge of the upper cliff and then opted to slide down the material to the next level, from whence they jumped as cautiously as was possible under the circumstances. The cat however, loathe to lose its edible playmates and now more than slightly annoyed at their unexpected powers to sting, bounded down effortlessly and they found themselves up against the cliff, backs literally to the wall on this occasion.
None of them was aware that the sounds of their scuffling had disturbed other sleepers. As Vila backed up desperately and Avon gritted his teeth at the advancing cat, seen as a monstrous shape in the darkness, the area was flooded with brilliant light. Momentarily blinded, the two men started to run in opposite directions as the by now frustrated and enraged cat leapt forwards. Unfortunately both men had miscalculated and their courses took them towards a collision and not away from each other. As the cat pounced the two men collided painfully and the bulky animal bore them to the ground under its weight.
What a ridiculous fate for the best thief and the second best computer expert in the galaxy, Vila thought wryly as he went down into darkness. Being suffocated under a cat! Well, it was marginally better than being ripped to shreds by those enormous claws. It was dark... heaviness upon him... and then silence...
"Vila! Wake up, Vila! Come on, wake up!"
Someone was shaking him, very ungently, and he opened his eyes groggily to stare up into a face he had thought never to see again.
"Avon...Avon? Avon! Aargh, what happened? Where - "
He blinked against the brightness of the Liberator's flight deck and shook his head, bewildered to find himself stretched out on the lounger. Avon shook him and stared into his face, his expression unreadable.
"Vila, you have been asleep. I left you here on watch. You were supposed to wake me half an hour ago. When you did not wake me, Orac did." His mouth twisted in mockery. "Fortunately, there have been no crises, either major or minor, while you were asleep. The Liberator is still en route for Goth. Now wake up and try to look intelligent in case someone else wakes up and comes to check."
"Orac..." Vila pulled a face and blinked. "Avon, I thought we were dead. And it was all Orac's fault."
"What?" The other man stared down at him unsympathetically. "Vila, you have been dreaming. You must have been." There was rather more emphasis than the situation warranted in Avon's tone and Vila stared up at him curiously.
"Dreaming? Was I? I wonder... Orac?"
"You desire information of some kind?" The small computer was as ungracious as usual and Vila shook his head. Avon stood there in silence, his own face working in puzzlement, as if he also were trying to remember something.
Dreaming...
"Orac, did you teleport Avon and myself down to Freedom City? Did you make us small and send us down there? Did you?"
Avon continued to stare and Orac's lights blinked and flickered.
"What a stupid question! Of all the crewmembers, Vila, you are the one who wastes my time most often with trivial and ridiculous questions! If you do not have something important to say, then kindly remain silent."
Vila stared at Avon. "He didn't answer my question."
"The question does not warrant a response!" Orac snapped.
Both men looked at it and then at each other. There was an expression of total bewilderment on Avon's face; one Vila had never seen before and hoped never to see again, it was so uncharacteristic. Then he shook his head unwillingly.
"You must have been dreaming, Vila." He sat down slowly and looked up. "Before Orac woke me - I also was dreaming. But it's not possible." He shuddered visibly. "I never did like cats very much."
Vila said nothing, but he reached out wordlessly to pluck something from Avon's dark jacket. A white hair. The other man stared at it, almost going cross eyed.
Indubitably, it was a cat hair.
"I don't believe it. I just don't believe it. Do you?" Vila almost whispered.
Behind them. Orac sniggered.
They'd never be sure, would they?
Revenge was sweet. Purrfect, in fact.