Avon opened his eyes. It was good to be able to see the medical unit and not the gray walls of the prison cell. He turned his head and glanced over at Cally. She was sleeping in a bed next to his; this arrangement was comforting in its familiarity. He watched her as her chest rose and fell slowly with every breath.
You look tired. He knew why. This made him feel both comfortable and uncomfortable, at the same time. She cared about him; he was finding that it mattered to him a great deal that she did. And even though he had never told her, he cared about her too. He found himself comparing her to Anna without thinking; the Anna who had never really existed. Like her, Cally never demanded anything from him unless he wanted to give it. She was gentle, yet strong. He did not feel threatened or pressured when he was with her. She was willing to wait for him and because of that, he didn't want to let her down.
It was much easier when I barely felt anything; when I could reduce this to an intellectual exercise to be solved.
He knew that he could suppress the emotions, as he normally did; but when it came to Cally, he had chosen not to. It had made everything much more difficult, but he was willing to do it for her.
Avon began thinking about the memories of Malodar and the shuttle. Now that he understood what they were, he could think about them objectively. There had been a purpose to what happened the last few days. For Cally and for himself, he had to know what kind of man he really was.
It was one of the reasons why he had chosen to endure what he had. Avon had decided that it was no longer enough to only express how he felt by what he did. And now, because of the memories, because of what Servalan had been able to do to him, he realized it was a weakness. She had taken great pleasure in telling him repeatedly - usually after she had Vila beat him up - that he was partially responsible for what was happening.
Sometimes it was important to let people know that he cared; even if just a little. Not that I need anyone, of course. A wry, self-mocking smile crossed his face at this familiar and almost automatic thought. He would not allow Servalan to exploit this weakness again.
When Avon had first started experiencing the memories surrounding what happened on the shuttle, he had made a conscious decision to allow them to take him. He had stayed passive, accepting the tide of recollections as they came, sweeping him up, and bringing him back into the past. At any time he was aware that he could have stopped it. All he had to do was to reach for them, and as before, his mind would become overwhelmed and shut down as they flooded his mind.
He had been aware of Cally as she tried to reach him telepathically. Of all the things he had to suffer, hiding himself from her had been the most difficult; going to a place in his mind where he thought she was still dead, had almost made him stop. Avon knew that what he was doing would cause her cause her pain and suffering, but he had to harden himself; he had to know that he wanted her to love him.
A killer of friends. He had to know if he really was one. I'm closer now. At least I know that those memories weren't real. But it wasn't over for him yet. The others are relieved. Vila is happy. But they do not comprehend that nothing has really been resolved. I still don't know the answer.
An ironic smile touched his lips as he thought of Vila. He wondered which of them had been the most relieved. Sometimes, because of the memories, he thought he must have gone mad during those days when Servalan tried to kill them all. One day acting rationally and the next, unable to do the most basic things inherent to his character.
Were all of the memories lies? Or were some of them true? Avon wanted to know if the ease in relating with Vila during those moments on the shuttle, outside of those few terrible minutes, had been real. It surprised him that this was also important to him now. He wanted to know. More than an intellectual curiosity; this was a relationship he wanted to mend.
It would make more sense to mix the fake memories with the real ones; only altering what they needed. His mind would have been familiar with those ones; and that would facilitate in being more receptive to the ones they wanted him to believe.
At the Detention Centre, he had learned to hate himself. Servalan had made him hate himself. His life had become something he no longer valued. Even after the others rescued him, nothing changed, not inside. In the darkness, he was still dead. But now people wanted him to live; not just because they valued his abilities or his mind. Because of that, the darkness was not as dark anymore. For them, he would live. But first, he needed to find out about the darkness. For Cally's sake, for their sake.
Avon. Cally's voice in his mind startled him from his thoughts. Her voice in his mind was always a soothing presence, a light touch against his consciousness. He rolled his still tired body slightly to face at her. She seemed to be studying him, just like he had been doing to her moments ago.
His throat was still sore. He projected, Yes, Cally?
What were you thinking of just now? You looked very serious. she said to him.
His eyes searched hers. She was also very serious. Her concern and caring came across both in her manner and in what she projected to him.
I believe that is my 'normal' look. He thought to her. There was a light quality to his tone.
I'm glad you're feeling well enough to joke. But you were looking even more serious than normal before.
Then I must have looked positively grim. He continued to think in light thoughts.
Cally knew that Avon was a private man. She had hoped that their relationship had progressed to the point where he could share something personal, but obviously, he wasn't ready yet. She wondered if he ever would be. She thought to him, You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I know it's been difficult.
I was thinking about what happened, he told her. This surprised her. The tone in the thoughts that Avon sent her way, was no longer light; he seemed to be opening himself to share something with her.
She projected, Healer Garett said that you could have come out of the memories at any time. But you wanted to stay. Is that true?
He studied her for a few moments before answering, wondering what he should say; trying to decide what he should tell her.
To an extent. I could have induced a collapse; as I had experienced before on the flight deck and in the workshop, he told her.
Why, Avon? Why make yourself go through that? What was the purpose? she asked.
He turned away from her and looked at the ceiling. I had to know.
You wanted to know if your memories of trying to kill Vila were real?
Yes.
She said with understanding, You didn't want them to be real. "
Avon turned to look at her. No. I didn't.
"I'm glad you know now," said Cally.
Not yet, thought Avon to himself. That thought he did not send her way. He didn't want to worry her; he still had to find out.
Vila approached the door to the medical unit with apprehension. He hadn't been able to sleep all night. The events of the previous day weighed heavily on his mind. Vila wished he had his own Cally; someone who would spend the night with him so that the nightmares would not be so terrifying. He understood now a little of what Avon had been going through the last few years.
Sester had been right. The implanted memories still bothered him. They had been a part of his mind and feelings so long that it was hard to throw them off so easily. But Vila was determined to. He pushed open the medical unit door and went in.
Cally was sitting on the edge of Avon's bed, one arm supporting his head and holding a cup of water for him to drink.
"Vila," said Avon as he noticed him come in. He struggled up to a sitting position with Cally's help and leaned back against the wall.
"Avon," said Vila nervously.
Are you up for this, Avon? Cally projected the question to him.
Avon responded, Yes. Putting it off would serve no purpose.
Cally said, You're still tired. You should rest one more day.
It's a condition I am very familiar with. Don't worry about me, Cally. I promise to rest if I need to. Can you leave us alone?
Cally hesitated; she knew that Avon would probably not rest unless she was there to encourage him to. But this was his choice, she had to respect that. "Of course. I will not be far if you need anything."
Avon nodded. After she left the room, the two men stared at each other without speaking, neither one knowing how to start. It was a place they had never come to before; a moment of mutual truth.
"So, Vila. Shall I start or shall you?" asked Avon.
"You," Vila blurted out without thinking; spurred on by years of ingrained habit.
Avon smiled. "Of course. The problem is not who will start. But where to start."
Vila sat down on the chair vacated by Cally, "How about the beginning?"
"Do we have the time?" asked Avon in amusement.
"It's important, Avon. I really want to do this."
"Alright. Since you appear to have something in mind, why don't you start?" said Avon.
For a brief instant, Vila had a panicked look on his face at this suggestion. It was one thing to want to do this, but when it actually came to doing it, fear usually got in the way. This time though, he was determined.
Before Vila had plucked up enough courage to say anything, Avon said, "Perhaps I might have something that will help."
"You don't have a bottle of something hidden away somewhere, do you?" asked Vila hopefully. He looked around the bed.
"No bottle. Just something that Servalan said."
"Servalan?!" said Vila. He didn't think that the mention of their deadliest enemy would be of any help to anyone, least of all to him. "That woman never helped anyone in her life."
"I didn't say that she would help. Just something she said might help," said Avon. "Do you remember saying that the Federation tried to condition you not to steal, but they never succeeded?" Avon asked.
"Yeah. It never took. I always ended up stealing again."
"What if the conditioning was not to stop you from stealing?" asked Avon.
"Eh?" asked Vila. "That's not possible. I mean what else would they be trying to do?"
Avon told him about the conditioning performed on Deltas who were sent to the rehabilitation centres.
"I don't remember that at all," said Vila when he finished.
"No. You wouldn't. It wouldn't serve their purposes to have you remember, that the reason why you follow blindly, is because someone conditioned you to."
"The evil, rotten, manipulative…" said Vila angrily.
"Quite." Avon was watching Vila intently as the thief began processing this information.
"Wait a minute…that means. I'm not easily led? That was something the Federation did to me?"
Avon said, "That's likely. Servalan said that you escaped before the programming was completed. It may explain why you complain constantly but nothing ever comes of it."
"Do you think my being afraid all the time could be part of it too?" asked Vila. "I mean it would be logical, wouldn't it? They wouldn't want the Deltas to be brave and do something, would they?"
Avon could see that Vila wanted to believe it. Was it more useful to tell him the truth? That he didn't know. Would affirming your hope, give you what you need to overcome your fears?
These kinds of consideration would never have occurred to him before. Avon believed in cold hard facts; the truth without the taint of irrational sentiment. But being without hope for so long himself, he realized that sometimes there were things which were more required than truth.
A brave Vila would take some getting used to.
Avon said, "That is a strong possibility."
"I always knew I wasn't a coward," said Vila.
"Just overly sensitive?" asked Avon with light sarcasm.
"You don't have that excuse," retorted Vila automatically. The moment he said it he wanted to kick himself. There had been a brief flash of something in Avon's eyes, Vila couldn't tell if it was annoyance or pain, then his manner turned abruptly cold.
Vila was mortified. "Oh, god. I'm sorry, Avon. I don't know why I said that. I didn't mean to. It just came out."
Avon stared at him without responding. The false memories of Vila's hatred were still too fresh; and the real ones of Servalan's delight in telling him that it was his own fault even as she had Vila torture him.
Avon had reacted according to an old ingrained instinct; one that instantly put up thick walls, turned him cold and dispassionate and very capable of responding back with equal, if not more malice . It was the survivor; except that this survivor had not fared well at the Detention Centre. It had kept him alive but it had been little more than a living death; life without a reason to live.
He was trying to change that now, to find a different way to survive. Avon finally responded, "I would have said that once. To you."
Realizing that Avon was making an effort as well, Vila said, "Well, we both used to say a lot of things. I really am sorry, Avon. I should never have said it now."
"Apology accepted." Avon shifted to a different position, his back was a bit sore this morning; probably a result of the stress the past few days.
It was time for some more truth. Avon said, "I was never very pleasant to you. Some of the things I said could have been…" The corners of his lips lifted in an ironic smile, "Less abrasive."
"I gave as good as I got," said Vila.
"Yes, you did," said Avon. "You showed distinct signs of intelligence, at times."
"So did you," said Vila with a grin. Then he turned serious again. "Avon. I never thanked you for all the times you saved our lives. None of us did."
"I never needed any," said Avon.
"I know and you never wanted any. You have a strange way of showing that you care," said Vila.
"It was self-interest, Vila. Nothing more," said Avon.
"'I have never understood why it should be necessary to become irrational in order to prove that you care, or why it should be necessary to prove it at all?' Do you remember saying that, Avon?"
Avon looked startled. "Of course. I'm surprised that you do."
"I didn't understand it then but Cally did. I asked her about it later. She said, that what you said, and what you did were two different things and that I should pay attention to what you do. I think she knew the truth about you from the start. She knew you cared about us."
"I never could hide anything from her," said Avon wryly. Though she had never mentioned it to him, he wasn't surprised that she had known even then.
"And then that creature in the underground room. Do you remember, Avon?" asked Vila.
"You mean that madman, Dorian? He was insane, Vila. You can't take what he said seriously."
"You're only saying that because he accused you of caring. And you would die rather than to admit it. The creature in the room. I think it could read our minds. Dorian needed people who cared about each other. The creature sent him to us. It knew you cared even though you would never admit it."
Even though Avon had wanted to mend his relationship with Vila, even though he was trying to find a different path, all this talk of caring made him uncomfortable. Vila was right; he would rather die than acknowledge it to anyone. He hadn't even been able to admit it to Cally yet. He had been like this for as long as he could remember. In many ways, overcoming this inability would be as difficult for him as it would be for Vila to overcome his many fears.
"And what are you admitting?" asked Avon.
"Me?" asked Vila.
"Are you admitting that you care?" challenged Avon.
"I thought we were talking about you?"
"Well, now we're talking about you," said Avon.
"But you haven't said anything yet."
"I know."
"That's not fair," said Vila. "Well, I'm not saying anything if you don't."
Avon glanced at the door through which Cally had exited earlier. He admitted, "I haven't told Cally yet."
"Oh."
"I have to tell her first," said Avon as he continued to stare at the closed door. He wondered where she was.
Vila nodded. "You should."
Avon "Yes, I should." He looked at Vila again.
Vila said, "I was never that much of a friend. You may have been mean at times but at least you saved my life. I can't say the same thing."
"I didn't expect you to," said Avon.
"But that's the thing, you should have been able to," said Vila. "That creature said we cared about each other, and that includes me. Maybe Dorian was insane."
"There are many things we did, that neither one of us are proud of," said Avon.
"And many things I didn't do," said Vila.
"I'm sorry, Vila."
"So am I."
For a moment neither of them said anything, they only stared at each other, unsure what should come next.
Vila seemed to make up his mind about something. He said, "I want to start over again, Avon. I don't know what we had before but I want us to be friends. Real ones this time." He held out his hand towards the other man.
Avon looked down at it. He said, "You realize that this will not be easy."
"What's life without a little risk?" asked Vila with a grin.
Avon said, "I would like that." They shook hands.
Now that Avon and Vila had decided on a fresh start, there was a lighter atmosphere between them but also a certain nervousness. Each was aware of old behaviour patterns that neither wanted to carry forward. In a break during their conversation, Vila had left the room for a few minutes, to take care of some personal business.
The medical unit was still empty of personnel. Avon guessed that Cally must have told the others that he and Vila needed some privacy. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes; trying to replenish his energy. Cally had been right, he should have waited before doing this. The last few days had been both a physical and mental drain on his already meagre resources.
Avon tried to rest but he could not shake off a continued tension. The others may be happy with what had been achieved, but he wasnt; not yet. For him, the most important question still required an answer.
Vila pushed open the door and came back into the room. There was a bounce in his step and as he came closer, Avon could see that he was holding a bottle and two glasses.
"All this talking is thirsty work. I thought we might need some liquid refreshment." He handed Avon one of the wine glasses.
Avon accepted it and with eyebrows raised in a question asked, "Where did you get this?"
Strong and deft fingers worked the cork loose with a pop. He filled Avon's extended glass; the amber liquid splashed into it and seemed to sparkle when reflected in the light.
Avon studied the wine as he swirled it around in his glass, causing it to catch the light at various angles. He took a tentative sip; the taste was at the same time rich and subtle. He let it linger in his mouth for a bit before swallowing, savouring its delicate flavour; dry, with a hint of sweetness. "Very smooth."
"I thought you might like it," said Vila as he drank from his own glass. There was a look of contentment on his face as the nectar passed his taste buds and slid down his throat.
"You still haven't answered my question," said Avon.
"You noticed that?" asked Vila with a sly glance at Avon as he brought his glass to his lips again and took another mouthful.
"You stole it," said Avon dryly. It was not a criticism, just a factual acknowledgement of the source of their present libation.
"Steal is such a strong word. I prefer to think of it as creative borrowing."
"Well, as long as someone doesn't notice a bottle of excellent wine disappearing from their stocks," said Avon as he took another drink.
"They won't," said Vila with a suppressed grin. "I'm very discreet. Besides they have so many bottles, they won't miss one."
They both took another drink from their respective glasses and sat in companionable silence as they enjoyed the fine wine. After Vila refilled their glasses, Avon said, "We still haven't discussed what happened in the shuttle."
"I was hoping to put that off," said Vila. "It still brings up the bad memories."
Avon took another sip of his wine. "We need to find out what really happened."
"You always want to find out everything. But is it really a good idea?" asked Vila. His voice rose in nervousness.
Avon put his glass down and regarded the other man speculatively. "Are you afraid that I really did try to kill you?" His face was devoid of emotion as he waited for the answer.
"It's not that. Nothing could be worse than the implanted memories Servalan tried to feed us. Though those other memories you had were pretty funny." He laughed; it was a thin, nervous sound.
"They weren't for me," said Avon stiffly.
Vila grimaced, "I'm sorry. I forgot. You thought they were real." This was replaced with a puzzled expression as he asked, "How could you think those memories were real? They were so strange."
During their discussions, he had regaled Avon with the humourous reactions they all had to the second set of memories. Vila did not notice the other man becoming less and less responsive during the account.
Avon shifted against the wall he was leaning against; its hard surface felt as uncomfortable against his back as he was currently feeling. If Cally had been there, she would probably have slipped a pillow behind him to make him more comfortable; but Avon didn't have the energy. With Vila's question, the tiredness began to weigh heavily on him. Avon answered, "The only way I could rationalize it, was that I must have been going slowly mad."
His voice was quiet and his face was very still. One could have mistaken him for an emotionless robot repeating something that meant nothing to it. Vila knew better now. In many ways, Avon was as full of fear as he was; except that he hid it better. Vila knew that the horror of losing his mind was one of Avon's greatest fears. He had witnessed a suicidal Avon when the analyst came back on the ship and realized that Servalan had almost destroyed his mind; when even the simplest daily activities were a struggle.
"I'm sorry, Avon. I shouldn't have kept going on about it," Vila said guiltily.
"You didn't know. Stop apologizing, Vila or I will have to ask you to leave." Avon wondered if he would ever be able to separate out his false impressions of what happened with what really did occur. That was why it was important for him to know the truth.
"I'm s…uh, I mean. Alright. You even make apologizing complicated," said Vila.
"Then don't do it," said Avon. "Or at least, don't do it that often. It can get irritating after awhile."
"Avon. If you want to break the blocks with our original memories, you have to go back into the chamber." The concern on his face was evident.
"I'm aware of that," said Avon. There was a frown on his face; it was not a prospect he was relishing. For an intensely private man, it was the ultimate invasion of his privacy.
"I wouldn't want to," said Vila. Once was more than enough for him. "Just the thought of that thing crawling around in my mind…"
"I'm not asking you to," said Avon. "And that is a completely inaccurate description of what it does." His voice trailed off tiredly. If Cally had been there, he knew that she would encourage him to get some rest. He closed his eyes.
"It's still creepy." Vila drained the last of the wine from his glass and poured himself another one. He was about to top up Avon's glass when he noticed the other man's closed eyes. "I should leave."
Avon didn't seem to hear him, his eyes remained closed. Vila said softly, "Avon?" There was still no response. Cally isn't going to be happy that I tired you out, thought Vila. He didn't think she would be pleased that he had given Avon alcohol either as he gathered up the evidence.
As Vila headed towards the door, he took a look back at the sleeping man, Avon was stirring restlessly. His eyes moved under closed lids and his breathing was faster.
I forgot that you need your drugs. Vila had never seen Avon undergo the nightmares which plagued his sleep. Even sleeping is complicated for you, isnt it? I'll go get Cally.
Vila hesitated. He lifted the bottle in his hand and looked at it. It was a simple thing for him to break into the cellars and steal a bottle of Athol's finest wines. He looked back at Avon. The sleeping man had his arms hugged protectively across his chest now.
You shouldn't go back into the imaging chamber. Not yet. Cally is right. You need rest. You've gone through enough already.
Real friendship required more than just a shared love of fine wine. Vila knew that if it had been Ture or Allren, they would have been fighting each other to go into the chamber. They wouldn't have hesitated.
Vila looked at Avon again. You didn't hesitate either. You never even thought to ask me.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Vila?" Garett asked as his assistants readied Vila to go into the imaging chamber. "I'm not sure how well this will work. We're still trying to understand all of the capabilities of this machine. I think I know how to do it but I can't guarantee anything."
"Now you tell me," said Vila. He wriggled around nervously. Every instinct was telling him that he shouldn't be doing this. Old, familiar fears nagged at him. He asked anxiously, "It's not going to fry my brain, or anything. Is it? I definitely draw the line at cooking of any kind."
"No. I'm fairly certain that the only thing that will happen is that it won't work, and the memory blocks will remain in place," said Garett reassuringly.
Somehow it wasn't all that reassuring to Vila.
"You must remember not to fight what we'll be doing. Just relax," said Garett. He gestured to one of his assistants who flipped several switches. The imaging chamber lit up and Vila was wheeled in.
"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one entering the chamber." Vila added in a mutter which he hoped no one else heard, "of death."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Garett, one last time. The sound pick-up system was very good; they had all heard what Vila mumbled to himself.
"No. Yes. I mean, just get on with it before I change my mind," said Vila with an uneasy determination. I have to do this. If Avon's right and the fear is something the Federation did to me, then I can't let them win. I'm going to do this for Avon. For both of us. Making a decision to fight the fear, did not mean that the fear would stop. Vila wished it did.
"Alright. I'm going to start the flow of drugs. I want you to relax. Just let us do the work."
Argus and Reya entered the room and saw that Garett and his assistants were already working at the control panels. The figure in the chamber was bathed in various lights.
"You started without us," Argus said to Garett.
"He was in a hurry," replied Garett. "He wanted to get it over as soon as possible."
At that moment, Avon came in, supported by Cally. Argus did a double take and then stared at figure in the chamber. "Who's in there?"
"It's Vila," replied Garett. "I thought you knew. He said that you approved it."
Argus made a sound like a low rumble. "No. I didn't."
"What's going on? Who's in the chamber?" asked Avon as he came to join them and saw that someone was already inside.
"It's Vila," said Argus with consternation.
"Did you tell him to do it?" asked Avon.
"No. He was already in the chamber when we got here," replied Argus.
Vila. There was an unreadable depth in Avon's eyes as he stared at figure in the chamber; he knew why Vila had done it. It made him ill at ease to know that someone would do this for him. He wasn't used to a friendship where people actually did something for him, at an expense to themselves. He was aware that Vila didn't want to go into the imaging chamber again; he recognized the fear and uneasiness. It was why he had never considered asking him.
Despite Vila's acute aversion to danger or anything personally unpleasant, sometimes at the least expected moments, Vila did things that surprised Avon. At times, because of his fears, Vila was one of the bravest men he had ever met. Of course, he would never say that to Vila.
Cally put a chair down and looked at him expectantly. Avon stared at it and then at her. "I'm fine. I don't need a chair."
She said firmly, "Don't blame me if you fall over later then."
Avon gave her an annoyed look and sat down. This is embarrassing, he thought to her as she helped him.
Not as embarrassing as falling down from exhaustion. She projected to him unapologetically. You couldn't even get out of bed this morning without help. And you fell asleep when you were talking to Vila yesterday. He had to come and get me.
There was a faint rebellious look on his face but he stayed seated. Avon glared at Argus, challenging the other man to say something.
There was a look of amusement and sympathy in Argus's eyes, which Avon found far worse. His lips parted in a snarl.
Everyone turned to watch the screen as images began to appear. As the scenes played out, it was clear that they were seeing the first set of memories; the ones Vila remembered.
"I thought we were going to see what really happened?" remarked Argus.
"It makes sense that they would use most of the original memories and only alter the ones they needed to." They all turned to look at Sester. He had snuck in again while everyone had been preoccupied with what they were watching.
"Yes. It would be the most effective way to do it," agreed Avon. There was an unpleasant look on his face as he watched Sester come towards them. The psychostrategist was unphased by the various unfriendly stares he was getting from almost everyone in the room, but he stood off to the side, not joining the group of observers.
The scene now showed Avon and Vila going to Malodar for the first time to meet Egrorian.
"There's no gun in this one," said Argus with surprise.
"Did you expect there to be?" asked Sester.
The scenes continued playing out with the Scorpio crew discussing the results of the first meeting with Egrorian.
"At least, these parts make sense," said Cally. "I would never have believed that you would not do your own research; on someone so clearly suspicious."
Avon didn't express it but he was even more relieved than she was. So at least for that part of it, I was rational.
They all continued watching a near-recreation of Vila's previous memories.
There was a faint smile on Avon's lips as he watched the interaction between himself and Vila on the screen as they went back to Malodar the second time. The ease in communication in the shuttle was very similar to what they had in the medical unit yesterday.
Perhaps what we are doing now is not building something new, but reclaiming what could have been. Avon wondered what would have happened if he had not led them all to Gauda Prime. His stomach twisted in pain at the mention of the name. He grimaced and his hands gripped the arms of the chair. So many memories.
Avon? Cally looked down at him with concern.
His eyes caught her worried ones. Its fine, Cally. Just a stray memory. Nothing to worry about.
He could see that she didn't quite believe him, but decided not to press the issue. There was a softening in his eyes, conveying a silent appreciation.
You will tell me if something is wrong? she asked.
I'll try. Avon thought to her. It's not something I am used to doing.
Please try, Avon.
There was a gentleness to her concern. She always seemed to know when to respect his need to make his own decisions, without pressure.
Alright, Cally.
As with the previous time, the observers seemed to lean forwards as the Avon and Vila on the screen came back to the shuttle the second time. They all nervously waited. The scene seemed to unfold in slow motion, but it was really no different in speed from the other ones.
They heard Vila's voice ask, "So what was that we gave to Egrorian?"
Avon replied, "Orac mark two. Just a replica I made a few months back. Contingency planning, Vila, and the contingency arose."
Vila's voice said, "But the thing worked!"
Avon explained, "Well enough to fool Egrorian, anyway. It was fitted with a voice box and a relay station, so that the real Orac could run it."
Vila's voice said accusingly, "You could have got us killed! Why didn't you tell me?"
Avon said, "Well, I didn't want to make you nervous, Vila. I was nervous enough for the both of us."
Vila's voice said, "You make contingencies for everything, don't you? Even things that might happen?"
Avon said with a smile, "Ah, but this one did. We know that Servalan is after ORAC."
"And you," said Vila's voice.
Avon looked as if he had smelled something unpleasant and his lips curled in a snarl as he said, "Yes. Me. It wasn't hard to deduce that she would keep trying until she got what she wanted. Egrorian was an obvious trap. I was rather disappointed. She used to be much more devious."
"Well, don't count her out," said Vila's voice.
"I don't."
"Just how many of these contingencies have you made?" asked Vila guardedly. "And haven't told us about."
Avon smiled and turned towards him. He was about to reply when ORAC informed them, "The escape velocity of this vehicle is now confirmed at Mach fifteen. And unattainable."
Avon asked in alarm, "What do you mean, 'unattainable'?"
ORAC said, "Mach fifteen is unattainable on the present flight configuration."
Avon asked, "Explain unattainable."
ORAC said irritably, "I would think that the definition of the word would be obvious to someone of your intellect."
Avon said equal annoyance, "You know what I mean! Answer the question! Why aren't we able to achieve mach fifteen?" Avon's hands could be seen to work on the flight panel.
"He's checking the status of the ship," said Argus. "That didn't happen in the other two memories."
Avon's hands stopped working and he said, "There's nothing wrong with the ship. All systems check out normally."
ORAC said with irritation, "Of course, there's nothing wrong with the ship."
They could all see that Avon was getting angry. "Then you know what is keeping us from achieving escape velocity?"
ORAC said smugly, "Of course, I do."
Avon was getting increasingly frustrated. "If this ship goes down, I will make sure your parts are scattered into a million useless pieces before I let Servalan get her hands on you. Now tell us, you electronic piece of space debris!"
ORAC told them, "While you were in the bio dome, a mechanized autoloader gained unauthorized access to the ship and placed a speck of neutron material onboard."
"Oh, ORAC. You idiot!" exclaimed Vila. "Why didn't you tell us before?"
ORAC said, "You didn't ask."
"Tell us where to find this speck. And no more nonsense! I am not in the mood for it!" said Avon.
"It will not do you any good even if I told you. There is no possible way for you to move it. The speck in question weighs the equivalent of three tonnes," responded ORAC.
Avon looked as if he was ready to dismantle ORAC right then and there. The anger turned to determination as he said, "Vila. We need to divert all power to the engines. Quickly, get those panels open. We'll have to do it manually."
For the next minute, they could see Vila's hands open up panels and working furiously away. Then they sat back down.
Vila's voice said, "This had better work."
Avon said, "Have you cleared the governors?"
The scene tilted down and Vila's voice said, "I think so. Try it now."
Avon said, "Switching to manual. Maximum power on all drives."
The screen seemed to shake as the shuttle reached maximum power; straining to break free of the pull of the planet.
Avon said, "What's the position now, Orac?"
ORAC responded, "Escape velocity still unattainable. Elapsed flight time: nine minutes. Remaining flight time: twelve minutes."
Vila's voice was panicked as he said "Twelve minutes?"
Avon said "Fuel!"
At the side of the screen they could see his hands flick several switches as he dumped the excess fuel.
Everyone in the medical unit was tense, caught up in the action before them.
Vila's said, "It's no good. We're not going to get out of this one. Egrorian set us up. Avon, we're going to die."
They could all see the screen focus on Avon's face. There was no hint of giving up. He was still determined. His brow was furled in concentration as he desperately sought for a solution.
He said to Vila, "It's gravity that is holding us, right? We haven't enough engine power to lift us free. We must lighten the load somehow. We'll have to strip this shuttle down to its frame. Come on!
They could see Avon's hands pull Vila up.
Vila's voice said, "Where do we start?"
Avon said, "You start in the cargo hold, I'll start up here. We have to jettison every last nut and bolt. NOW, VILA!"
The screen followed them to the cargo bay as Avon and Vila began throwing items into the airlock and jettisoning them.
Avon was pushing in the tachyon funnel when Vila said, "Do you have to get rid of that?"
Avon said, "What use is it to us now? Stand back!"
They could see Avon close the door and presses some controls.
Vila's voice said, "Now what? There's nothing left to throw out!"
Avon said urgently, "Let's check with Orac. Come on!"
The screen followed Avon as he ran back to the flight deck.
Avon said, "What's the position now, Orac?"
ORAC replied, "Remaining flight time: five minutes and forty seconds."
Avon asked, "How much more weight must we lose before we can achieve escape velocity?"
ORAC responded, "Seventy kilos, Avon."
"Only seventy kilos... Vila, strip off the insulation material in the cargo hold. The screen turned towards the door as Vila went to follow Avon's instructions.
Avon's voice called out, "Vila!" Avon takes a small trolley and hands it to him.
Vila said complainingly, "But that's plastic. It weighs nothing."
"Get rid of it anyway." The stress on his face was evident. He was a man who would not go down easily.
Vila's voice said, "A kilo and a half if we're lucky."
Avon said, "Do it! We've got five minutes."
As the screen turned towards the door again Vila paused as he heard Avon say, "Tarrant. No time to explain. Egrorian tricked us. We can't make escape velocity. Bring the Scorpio into close orbit. We're getting rid of everything we can to lighten the ship. We're going to try to reach escape velocity but if we can't I'm going to try to land the shuttle. You'll have to come down to get us."
The door closed and they all saw Vila running to the cargo hold to strip off the insulation and dump it. When he returned to the flight deck, Avon said to him urgently, "Strap yourself in. I'm going to try to land the shuttle."
They could see the screen pan down and Vila's hands open up a panel. He took out two very familiar objects. Vila held up the objects as his voice said, "Avon."
Avon looked over and grabbed one of them with surprise, "Teleport bracelets! Where did you get those?"
They heard Vila say, "Egrorian said no weapons. He didn't say, no teleport bracelets."
"Contingencies, Vila?" asked Avon. The corners of his lips lifted in a stressed smile.
"Well, I can have them occasionally too."
Avon's face resumed its strained look as he said faced forward and began to steer the shuttle for a landing, "Unfortunately, we can't use them while the shuttle is at full speed. It's too risky. We'd slip out of the beam and be vaporized. Trying to land is still the best option."
"Assuming we don't crash. The atmosphere is poison down there."
"I remember. But it's safer landing at low speed and closer to the ground than at full speed from orbit. Keep your eyes out for a good landing spot."
"You mean one that won't get us killed?"
After several minutes of fruitless searching, ORAC reported, "Remaining flight time: two minutes and thirty seconds."
Avon said angrily, "I know. I know! Dammit, there must be a safe place to land!"
"I don't see one," said Vila's voice. "Avon, we're going to die." The screen focused on Avon's side profile.
"Stop saying that! We're not going to die!"
They saw Avon looked down at the control panel. Avon said, "We're at mach six. If we bring the speed down far enough…." Avon hit the comm switch. "Tarrant. There's no safe place to land. We're going to have to risk the teleport."
They could hear Tarrant's voice over the comm channel, "There's no way to get first line coordinates for a teleport and you're moving too fast."
"We have two teleport bracelets here. Lock onto the signal. I'm going to reduce the speed down as much as I can. Try to match us. It's time to see how good a pilot you really are," said Avon.
They could hear Tarrant say, "It's still risky."
"Do it Tarrant!" shouted Avon.
Tarrant's voice responded, "Alright. It's your neck."
Avon could be seen operating the shuttle flight controls as he desperately tried to reduce their speed. They could see Vila hand him a teleport bracelet.
Vila's voice said, "You know, Avon. If we get out of this, I'm the one who saved the day with the teleport bracelets." There was a click as Vila snapped on his own bracelet.
"Yes. You did. You're never going to let me forget it, are you?"
"Not if humanly possible. Avon. If we don't get out of this…"
"We are! Now shut up and let me concentrate."
The rescue proceeded without incident while the medical unit group watched. Avon and Vila appeared back on the ship. As they all gathered on the flight deck of the Scorpio, Vila told the others what happened.
Vila's voice said, "If I hadn't made contingency plans by sneaking the teleport bracelets onboard, we'd never have made it. Isn't that right, Avon?"
Avon stared at the screen. An amused smile curled his lips and touched his eyes as he said, "Well, Vila. I know I'm always safe, with you."
After he was released from the imaging chamber, Vila came towards the observers with a big grin which stretched from ear-to-ear. "Did you see that?" he asked with enthusiasm.
Everyone was smiling as well. Vila's joy was infectious.
Using the arms of his chair for support, Avon got up slowly. There was a faint smile on his face. "Yes. It was hard to miss from this angle."
"I was the one who saved the day," said Vila.
"Yes, and you promised never to let us forget it," said Avon. The faint smile never left his face.
"Not if humanly possible." Vila grinned, repeating the phrase he had used during the memories.
Avon told him, "We need to talk." Avon glanced at Argus, who nodded and began herding people out of the room saying, "Let's give them some space."
Cally lingered a bit by Avon's side. She touched his shoulder. Do you feel better now, Avon?
He looked up at her. She always knew when there was something troubling him. He nodded silently and thought towards her, Yes, Cally. I just need some time to talk with Vila. Find something that you like to do, and doesn't deal with worrying about me. There was lightness in the last sentence.
Alright, Avon. Have fun with Vila.
Avon sent her a sigh and a mischievous, If humanly possible.
Cally smiled in encouragement and then she also followed the others out. At the exit, she paused to look back at the two men. She knew that Avon found it difficult relating with people. It was one area that no amount of calculations could solve for him; it filled him with anxiety and when that anxiety was at its worst, it also made him extremely paranoid. His instinct was always to do anything to avoid these kinds of situations; to push people away, to make them not want to approach him. Cally could sense that it was different now; the old instincts were still there, but also a desire to reach out; two forces warring inside him. She knew that his rational mind had decided to do this; and once he had determined that, it would be done regardless of how he felt; of that she was certain.
Now that they were finally alone, both men studied each other. The past few days, they had slowly been finding their way towards a renewed friendship; each one nervous about a past neither could remember clearly. But now the past was no longer a murky darkness. There had been friendship of sorts and the building of a successful partnership; with areas of both light and darkness between them.
Vila pulled up a chair and sat opposite Avon. They continued staring at each other, not quite certain what they wanted to do, but knowing that the truth they discovered about what really happened in the shuttle, would impact their relationship.
Vila was happy and was looking forward to the future. For him it was both about friendship and the discovery that the person he was, may not be who he thought. He was not easily led. And the bravery he showed at times may be more his real self, rather than the one who would volunteer everyone else to face danger, as long as it wasn't him. He was determined to reclaim the person he had been. The real memories of what happened in the shuttle had given him increased confidence.
Vila wasn't a fool; he knew it was not going to be easy. It wasn't one of his magic tricks that could make one trait disappear and another one reappear again. Each one would have to be fought for. The fear would probably never go away. But to have a friend who was undergoing his own struggles, made it easier. They would fight together.
For Avon, it was different. Registering the reactions of the people around him, Avon wished that he could share in their happiness. Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to allow his mind to let go, to not see all the things which could go wrong; the infinite possibilities and solutions crowding in on his mind, all needing to be sorted out and analyzed. To stop thinking had always equated death for him.
Avon had thought that finding out the truth would give him some peace. He realized that this only gave him a half-peace. This still doesn't resolve the most important question. Until he had an answer, he could not put this to rest. But first there was a friendship to build.
Studying Vila's cheerful face, Avon knew that for him, everything had come to a resolution. He was not only content in what he had found, he was happy. Avon envied him.
Vila grinned and started, "I saved the day."
"Yes, you did. I'm glad it happened that way," said Avon. There was uncharacteristic warmth in his tone. He rarely felt comfortable enough to share something personal but he knew that it was a crucial crossroads in their association. What happened in the imaging chamber had opened up a myriad of new possibilities between them. Vila had taken the first step by choosing to override his own fears for a friend. The truth of that action was something Avon understood very well. It was time for him to do something which was just as risky for him. For Avon, anything done on a personal level was fraught with uncertainty and peril; anything he could not calculate all the odds to or predict the possible outcomes for was to be avoided at all costs.
"You are?" asked Vila with surprise.
"We worked well as a team in the shuttle. It was something…I liked that. That's why I always chose you to go with me."
"Are you saying that you liked me? That's why you always dragged me along?" asked Vila.
"Well, like is such a…."
"Embarrassing word?" asked Vila. He was trying not to laugh but only managed a slight smirk.
Avon looked at him blankly. It was so much easier when he didn't need anyone; when caring was dispassionately expressed in actions, rather than feelings or acts of sentiment. To let someone else in meant risk.
Avon said, "No. Not embarrassing." Then why? There was a far away look in his eyes. A fragment of memory. A sudden stab of emotional pain. Longing. Loneliness. Fear. A woman's voice calling. K… He reached for the memory.
"Avon, are you alright?" asked Vila with alarm.
Avon was startled out of the recollection. He had almost made a mistake; he had forgotten to let the memory come to him. His eyes focused back on Vila. "Yes, of course," he said automatically. His face was a study in stoicism.
"Why do you always say that?" asked Vila.
"Say what?" asked Avon, not quite understanding what he was getting at.
"That things are alright without even thinking about it? Are you really alright?" pressed Vila.
"I wish I were," said Avon. He didn't elaborate further.
Vila stared at him for a moment, unsure what to do with this bit of revelation. He wanted Avon to go on but he didn't want him to feel threatened and clam up. Vila suddenly realized something. Being intimately acquainted with it himself, he recognized it in Avon.
"You're afraid, aren't you? That's why you push people away. When it's just you, there's no one else you have to depend on. Then there's no one to betray you or let you down or to use you or take away your independence. Or to hurt you, like Anna did."
Avon's jaw tightened and his face became hard and unreadable as he listened. After Vila finished, Avon stayed very still and only stared at him.
Vila thought, Am I wrong? Did I make a mistake? He had only wanted to break through further beyond the icy barrier.
Vila said, "I don't know if I was wrong in saying it. But I don't think I am."
Avon said in a quiet voice, "You're not wrong." Again he didn't say anything further.
Vila waited for a moment and then he continued, "I always thought that you were born like this. That you were cold and didn't feel anything. That you didn't care about anyone else, even after what Cally said. Then you told me about Anna. That look you got when you talked about her. I'd never seen it before. Even your face was different. Not hard like it is normally. Almost…" Vila was going to say vulnerable, but he knew that Avon would probably not react well to that, instead he said, "Well, I knew then that you never were as cold as you pretended; you must have always felt guilty for surviving when you thought that Anna had died because of you and you still loved her very much. I didn't really know how much until after you found out she betrayed you and you still couldn't leave her. How did you end up like this? Was it something the Federation did to you too, like they did to me?"
Avon looked startled. He had never considered this before. Until now, he had barely reacted; Vila was touching on too many things he would have preferred not to talk about. Why am I like this?
Kerr…the memory of a voice intruded into Avon's mind. It was definitely a woman. Gentle. For a moment, he could almost remember…something. Don't reach for it, he reminded himself but then it was gone.
"I don't want to talk about it, Vila. Not right now," said Avon. He was starting to get a headache.
Vila said, "I'm sorry if it brought up bad memories. I can't imagine…"
"Vila, stop," said Avon firmly.
"Alright." There was something else Vila wanted to talk about but had been hesitant to bring up. "Avon. The memories of the shuttle and Malodar aren't the only ones I have. I also remember being in a cell. And…I'm beating you up. I don't know where those come from or if they're just memories Servalan planted."
Avon hesitated and then he said, "It was my cell at the Detention Centre. The memories were real."
"I beat you up? Is that why I did it before in the medical unit?" Vila was feeling ill.
"Servalan did it," said Avon angrily. "It wasn't your fault."
"But she used me! Why?"
There was a brief twinge of pain in Avon's eyes as he said, "Because we were friends."
Vila asked in a faint voice, "How many times?"
Avon grimaced as the memories of the pain resurfaced; it was almost as if he could feel it again. He turned his head away. "Enough."
"I hate her," said Vila heatedly.
"Not as much as I do," said Avon with equal passion.
"One of these days, we'll kill her together," said Vila.
"I have to kill her," said Avon. There was a frightening intensity in his voice.
Vila agreed, "You have more reason than any of us." Vila studied Avon for a moment. The other man looked tired again. He wondered if Avon would ever fully recover physically. Vila said, "Avon, I know that you don't want to let anyone in, except Cally. And I understand that. I'm not asking you to. But I want to be a friend you can depend on. I won't promise that I always will be. But I promise that I'll try. Servalan wanted to destroy us. She was able to use me against you. I don't ever want that to happen again."
Truth was such a rare commodity these days that when he heard it, Avon was always surprised. Vila wasn't giving a promise based on a fleeting sentiment. It was a real promise which recognized the reality of human weaknesses.
Avon said, "I don't know if I am capable of being the kind of friend you're hoping for. But I would like to try."
Avon sat in the imaging chamber room after Vila had gone. His mind was busy planning. He had asked Vila to not tell Cally that they were finished, so that he could have some time alone. Avon sat down at the control panel. He looked over the controls and began testing some of their functions.
Programmable inputs. Very flexible design. Similar in some ways to the Pleasure City technology. Good.
Avon set to work quickly. One last question to be answered. He knew that none of them would agree with what he wanted to do. But for their sake, and for his own, he had to do it. He knew he needed one other person to help. Avon smiled; he knew the perfect person. This person would not be able to refuse.
Avon locked the door. It was time to do what he needed to do.
Sester said, "I don't think this is a good idea, Avon." Avon had come to get him from his room.
"You owe me, Sester," said Avon with a snarl.
"Argus is going to kill me if he finds out I helped you do this. And Cally will probably provide the knife. A very dull one. Or maybe they'll take turns," said Sester.
"That's your problem," said Avon coldly. "Sit down." He was hard and unyielding as he pointed to the imaging control station.
Sester sighed and sat down reluctantly. Guilt was a powerful tool to use against anyone; which was why psychostrategists always viewed human beings as puppets. It dispensed with all of the inherent weaknesses of being human.
"I've set the imaging program to run automatically but you'll have to start the process manually. I have also set a coded lock on the program so that no one will be able to terminate it or go into the chamber once it starts."
He began showing Sester the controls. When he was done, Avon said, "Don't try to tamper with it. It might kill me."
"It might kill you anyway," said Sester. "These drugs you're using. They're set at too high a level. I've never seen this concentration used, even at the Detention Centre. And these fear drugs…"
"It's only temporary and I'm willing to take that risk," said Avon. "It's the only way to bring my mind to the state that I need it to be in."
"This is that important to you?" asked Sester.
Avon stared at him before responding. "I'm not here to answer your questions. Now strap me in."
Images began appearing on the screen; they were the original memories of what happened on Malodar and in the shuttle. The scenes unfolded as before. Sester watched in uneasy fascination. He understood why Avon wanted to do this; but he wondered what was motivating him. What Avon was about to do would touch on the some of his most horrific nightmares.
What if you find what you fear the most, Avon? Then the nightmares will never end.
Sester looked down at the control panel monitors which showed Avon's life readings. He frowned, some of the numbers were dangerously high and the scenario hadn't even reached the most critical part yet. This isn't good.
The flex screen showed the shuttle again. It was the second trip down to Malodar.
Vila was carrying a tray of food back to the imaging chamber. He had found a nice Athol girl in the kitchens who had fed him a delicious meat pie and some excellent cider. He decided that Avon could use some food too.
The door to the room was closed, but this was not unusual. He pushed it open with his elbow. It didn't budge. Odd. Vila applied his shoulder to it. The door remained closed. Must be locked. Vila had never known the medical unit door to be locked before. Avon must have done it. What's he doing in there? "Avon let me in. It's Vila."
Sester heard Vila's voice. He thought ironically, Of all the people to come now, of course, it had to be Vila. Sester went to let Vila in. He knew that Avon would have strongly objected to his actions but Vila was a master thief, it wouldn't have taken him long to unlock the door. At least this way, he would retain a measure of control.
When the door opened, and Vila saw Sester, there was an instant look of suspicion on the thief's face.
"Come in," said Sester. He checked that there was no one else in the corridor and closed the door and locked it again.
"What are you doing here? Where's Avon?" Vila asked warily.
"Avon needed to do something. He didn't want anyone disturbing him," said Sester as he went back to the control panel and sat down again. He checked the life readings.
Vila nearly dropped the food tray when he saw what was playing out on the flex screen and saw Avon in the imaging chamber.
"Why's that on? What did you do to Avon?" he asked angrily. He put the tray down on a nearby table.
Sester looked up and caught Vila's eyes, "I told you, this was Avon's idea. He wanted to do this. It was important to him."
Vila wavered. He didn't trust Sester. "Why did he ask you? Why didn't he get someone he trusts?"
Sester smiled wryly, "Because he could only trust an enemy to do this."
"If you've hurt Avon…" the anger and threat in Vila's voice was clear.
Sester was puzzled. The files on Vila portrayed him as someone who was not capable of this strength of character. He was a person who avoided confrontations. You must care about Avon to confront me like this.
He said, "Threatening me will not achieve anything. Avon has locked this program. No one can get into the chamber until it's finished. For now, the only thing you can do is watch."
They both glanced at the screen, it showed the shuttle again and the second trip back from the planet. Sester looked at Vila again and said, "My guess is that part of the reason he's doing this, is for you."
"Me?" asked Vila in surprise.
"Yes. I hope, for his sake that this is worth it. He's taking a great risk."
"What do you mean?" asked Vila.
Sester didn't answer and only looked at the screen. The crucial point had been reached. "Just watch the screen, Vila."
Avon shook his head, trying to clear it. He found it hard to concentrate. His heart was racing.
ORAC responded, "Remaining flight time: five minutes and forty seconds."
Five minutes, forty seconds. Think. Why is it so hard to think? His head seemed to be pounding in time with his heart. The fear was so strong, he could almost taste it.
He asked, "How much more weight must we lose before we can achieve escape velocity?"
ORAC replied, "Seventy kilos, Avon."
He had a flash of déjà vu. Can't think about that now. The situation was desperate. They had to lighten the shuttle in order to achieve escape velocity. The shuttle's landing thrusters had been sabotaged. The Scorpio was too far away to be of any use. The only way to survive was to break orbit.
Avon said, "Only seventy kilos... Vila, strip off the insulation material in the cargo hold."
Vila raced to follow his orders. Something nudged at his consciousness. "Vila!" Avon opened up a panel. He hesitated as he saw the gun he had hidden there earlier. His mind struggled. There was a thought about the gun. No. There's no time. He took the small plastic trolley that was next to it and handed it to Vila.
Vila took it but said, "But that's plastic. It weighs nothing."
"Get rid of it anyway!"
Vila said, "A kilo and a half if we're lucky."
Vila's complaints when he was desperately trying think of ways to save them both were starting to grate on his nerves. "Do it! We've got five minutes."
Vila ran off with the trolley.
Avon said frantically, "Not enough! Not nearly enough!" There must be a solution! There must be a way! He didn't want to die. "Dammitt, what weighs seventy kilos?"
ORAC responded in a matter-of-fact voice, "Vila weighs seventy-three kilos, Avon."
Coldness. Seventy-three kilos. It was so simple. Why didn't he think of it before? I don't have to die. Just a number. A solution to a problem. A weight to be discarded. "Vila."
Vila and Sester watched with captive fascination as they saw Avon's hand take the gun out of the panel.
Sester shook his head sadly. There was a look of horror on Vila's face. He gripped the table that he had placed the food tray on.
They saw Avon's other hand grab ORAC. This was a new element.
"What's he doing?" asked Vila with fearful and tentative hope.
"I don't know."
They heard ORAC ask, "What are you doing, Avon?"
Avon's cold voice said, "What I should have done along time ago."
They were almost holding their breaths as they saw the cockpit door slide open and the screen image move past it. The screen moved slowly and silently along the corridor. There was a moment of awkwardness as Avon holstered the gun and juggled ORAC while descending the ladder to the cargo deck. At the bottom, he seemed to hold onto the ladder while his head rested on one of the rungs. They could hear him breathing heavily.
There was a warning sound; Sester glanced down at the panel. The heart rate had reached the danger zone. He grimaced. The scenario hadn't finished yet. There wasn't anything they could do. The end was near though.
Have to keep going. Avon straightened up and let go of the ladder. He drew his gun again and kept going. Each step was difficult. I can't do this. I have to!
Avon reached the airlock door. It slid open to his touch on the panel. For a moment he stared into the darkness of the interior. His heart was pounding so hard that it felt as if it would break free from his chest. He was almost paralyzed by fear. No! Avon stepped through. He placed ORAC on the ground and turned to close the door. With his gun, he shot out the door panel control. He threw the gun aside.
ORAC said frantically, "Avon! You cannot do this! This is madness! You must survive! You must sacrifice Vila! It is the only logical solution!"
"Logic, ORAC? I told you before that you'll have to do better, if you expect me to kill Vila. Did you think that reducing Vila to a number would be better? He is not just a weight to be discarded!" he said angrily. "Is that all your brilliant programming could come up with? You never understood me any more than the rest." No. That's not true. Sometimes he though that Cally had understood. But it was too late now, she was dead and it had been his fault. Everything was too late and his last act would be something that no one would understand. He laughed; it was a sound choked by fear, determination and a touch of madness. Avon found it ironic that his last conversation would be with a computer. "No more last words, ORAC?" There was no response.
Avon brought his hand up and slowly reached towards the airlock control. For a moment he paused and then he smiled and pressed it.
In the control room, several of the monitors were beeping loudly in warning and then there was silence. Sester looked in shock at the flat readings and then at the chamber. "His heart stopped!"
"What?" exclaimed Vila. "Get him out of there!"
Sester flipped a switch. "It's no good. The program is still running. It still has the door locked."
"But it's over!" Vila came over and looked at the control panel. The only thing he could understand were the life monitor readings. They indicated that Avon was dead.
"I'm going to try to unlock it!" Vila ran to the imaging chamber and examined the lock.
Sester said, "I'll go get help." He rushed off to find aid.
Vila was about to open the lock control when he heard a click. He tried the chamber's access panel. It slid open. Vila rushed inside, yanked off the drug lines and pulled Avon free from the chamber.
"Dammit, Avon. Don't do this!" He shook Avon's shoulder. Vila felt helpless; he didn't know what else to do. Medical aid was not one of his skills; he wished it was.
"Hang on! Sester's getting help." He lifted Avon's head and held him. "Whatever happened to, not having to prove that you care? You didn't have to do this! We would have believed you. I believe you!"
Healer Garett and his assistants rushed in with Sester in tow. They came over immediately.
Vila lifted his head; there was a look of stunned shock on his face; as if he couldn't believe what was happening. "Can you do something for him? He can't die." There was a plea in his voice; he couldn't accept that Avon would die because of this.
"We'll take care of him," said Garett. "Let go of him, Vila. Let us do our jobs. It's not too late."
Vila put Avon's head down gently and stepped aside. The Healer and his team began working on Avon with a resuscitation machine. Garett asked, "How long ago did his heart stop?"
Sester replied, "Just over two minutes."
"Good. No brain damage yet."
Cally, Argus and Reya rushed in. Cally had sensed Avon's emotions but had accepted them as part of his intense discussions with Vila; but she had become increasingly concerned. They were already on their way back when Avon's heart stopped. Cally had almost collapsed on the pathway; not understanding what was happening but knowing that something was very wrong. They ran the rest of the way back.
A distressed Cally asked, "What happened? How is he?"
Sester replied, "They're working on him now. His heart stopped."
She turned to Vila and asked again, "What happened? The two of you were talking."
Vila couldn't meet her eyes. "We finished. I went to get something to eat. When I came back, the door was locked. Then it opened and I found him here," Vila's head indicated Sester. "Avon was already in the chamber."
"What was Avon doing there?" she asked in shock.
The medical team were still working on Avon. They had opened up his shirt and placed something over his chest.
"Why was Avon in the imaging chamber? And what are you doing here?" Argus asked Sester angrily. "Did you do this?" He moved threateningly towards the psychostrategist.
"Avon asked me to," replied Sester. "He knew none of you would agree."
"And he knew you would?" Argus's voice had dropped in tone. There was coldness in his face.
"What exactly did Avon do?" asked Reya.
"He wanted to find out something," said Sester. "The only way he could do it was to relive what happened in the shuttle. But this time he programmed a scenario that left himself no options."
Cally's face turned pale. She said in a quiet voice that was full of sadness and understanding, "He needed to know if he would kill Vila." Cally's eyes closed and her head bowed. She shook her head. "Why didn't you tell me, Avon?"
"Because you would have stopped him," said Sester.
Cally opened her eyes and looked at him angrily. "You should not have let him do this."
"I had to," said Sester.
Argus said, "No. You didn't." His voice seemed to get colder with every word.
"You still don't understand. But Cally does, don't you?" asked Sester.
They all looked at her. Cally was afraid that she did understand. She told them, "Avon would never have had any peace until he knew. We were all happy before, but I knew that he wasn't. Something was bothering him but I didn't know it was this."
"He did it for me," said Vila in a quiet voice. He was about to say something more but their attentions were turned to the life monitors as they began registering again.
Garett came over. "He's fine now. Still very weak but we were able to get to him in time before there was any permanent damage."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"Can I see him now?" asked Cally.
"Just you," replied Garett. "He's still unconscious. We're trying to flush the drugs out of his system right now."
After Cally went to be with Avon, Garett asked, "Now will someone tell me what on Athol is going on? Who fed him the drugs? Didn't anyone know that level would be dangerous?"
Sester repeated what he already told the others.
Avon's mind slowly returned to consciousness. He spent a few minutes getting his bearings before he opened his eyes. The last few days had been a confusion of memories, real and implanted; and one of his own making.
I didn't try to kill Vila. That was the only thing he wanted to remember of the last few days. But it wasn't that simple. He had lived so long with something that wasn't real; he found that it was hard to accept anything else. His image of himself had been twisted by an enemy. He felt lost. The problem was the insidiousness of what Servalan had done. What she had made him believe was a distortion of the truth.
Avon knew the elements of his own personality which made what she had done so convincing. She had been right. In many ways, he was responsible for what she had been able to achieve. He knew that in order to survive, he could no longer allow her that advantage. He had to overcome his own weaknesses; the things he once thought were strengths.
For now, he could allow himself to experience a little happiness; but not too much. His tortured mind would never let him go for long. There was one fewer nightmare to haunt him; but there were still many others.
Before he opened his eyes, Avon directed his thoughts outwards. There was a voice he wanted to hear first. Cally.
Avon! The response was immediate. Her voice projected into his mind was a welcome presence. It radiated warmth, relief and joy.
Avon remembered saying something to Vila. I have to tell her first.
His tired mind gathered itself and sent her a clear thought; one of warmth and light, something not tainted by darkness. I love you.
Her reaction of surprise was very clear. What did you just say?
Avon opened his eyes and smiled. "You heard me."
Cally was shocked, confused and filled with an indescribable joy. This was something she had been hoping to hear for along time. But not now. Just when she had thought she had lost him; when she didn't know whether to cry or be angry that he had nearly killed himself, he said the one thing she least suspected.
You're surprised? asked Avon when she didn't respond.
I'm trying to decide, she projected to him.
His eyebrows lifted in puzzlement. This was not the response he had been expecting. Deciding about what?
Whether to kiss you or be angry at you for scaring me.
Do I get a choice? he asked teasingly.
I thought you had died!
Avon could see she was upset. He realized that he should have checked if it was the right time to express how he felt about her. His eyes expressed his regret. I'm sorry, Cally. I knew it would upset you but I had to do it.
You should have told me, she projected to him.
He reached out and took her hand in his. I couldn't. You would have stopped me. I had to find out what I was capable of. I could not tell you how I felt until I knew.
But Avon, you already showed what kind of man you were when you came down to save me. Wasn't that enough? Why couldn't you trust yourself?
That was different. I thought I had a chance then. I misjudged Servalan and Sester, explained Avon.
Are you saying that you wouldn't have come for me if you had known?
He squeezed her hand tightly. I would have come. Even if there was no chance.
Then why did you still have to prove it?
Because it is only an expression of sentiment. With this. Now I know.
Oh, Avon.
Avon knew that she would have taken him on trust, but unfortunately, he couldn't. He had lived with this memory for so long, it had been like a poison that sickened everything it touched. Despite what he had done for her, it was still there. Confronting it head on, leaving no shadow of a doubt was the only way he could defeat it.
Now it was finished; he had overcome it. He could finally close his eyes to these memories. Avon was no longer afraid of having Cally care about him.
He let go of her hand and reached up to touch her face lightly. There was a light mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he thought towards her Have you decided?
Decided what?
Whether to kiss me or to be angry with me. The corners of his lips curled slightly.
She projected, You're getting as bad as Argus.
I could not possibly be as bad as he is. His sent her a lightly affronted tone, but there was a barely suppressed smile on his face now. He sent her, Kiss me.
But there are people here.
Avon lifted his head slightly and looked around. Argus, Reya and Vila were at the other end of the room, talking to Garett. So there are. He looked at her. Does it matter?
She bent down to kiss him. It was a kiss full of love, passion and desire; and it was reciprocated.
Argus, Reya and Vila had come to the medical unit in the morning to check in on Avon. Avon had been unconscious since being revived and despite Garett's assurances, they were all worried.
"You're sure he's fine? No brain damage?" asked Argus.
"Yes, Commander. We got to him in time. We were able to revive him without incident," explained Garett with great patience. This was the third time he had been asked this since they came in but Garett was used to this kind of concern.
"When can we see him?" asked Vila.
Garett replied, "He's still unconscious. You can see him briefly but it's best that he gets as much rest as possible. So try not to wake him."
"Do you know when he's going to wake up?" asked Argus.
"I think he's awake," said Vila. His eyes were wide and he was staring at something behind Argus. They all turned to look and saw Cally and Avon kissing.
"Maybe Cally is trying to wake him?" suggested Argus.
Reya said, "I think you need your eyes checked."
"Well, if he's still unconscious then he's doing a good imitation of being awake," said Vila with a smirk.
"I think we should all be leaving now," said Reya. She took the two men firmly by the elbows and pushed them towards the exit. Garett directed his assistants to do the same.