After the Legend's End

by ariom

Set after 'Deliverance', this follows what happened to Meegat after the Liberator crew members had left her.

After the Legend's End

Meegat was born on Cephlon, but unlike the others who had Waited for visitors from the stars, she was not to die on that planet.

For a long time after the rocket had been launched, and Avon and the others had left, she stayed in the now brilliantly lit control room. She was intelligent, as indeed had been all of her people who had been chosen for the task of Waiting. Explanations given to her, about the controls within the room, and the technology behind them, as well as about the humans who were not really gods, had not fallen upon deaf unreceptive ears. She had been brought up and trained to expect visitors from the stars; it was not too difficult then to accept that they were people like herself. And to accept then that there were other peoples, other civilizations; this she coped with easily. But now her visitors had departed, and her job had been completed. The end of the legend had come at last.

Finally Meegat rose and returned through the underground passages and caverns to her home. And there her mood of fulfilment and happiness was shattered abruptly.

The scavengers had finally succeeded in breaching the defences set against them. Meegat's people, peaceful in the extreme, and defended only by the resources of their long dead ancestors, were lacking in aggression and weapons. And their helplessness had resulted in disaster. They were all dead. She had been the bringer of such great news, and now there were only corpses to welcome her. Her mother, her father, her brothers. The Elders, the adults, and all of the children. They were all gone. Here and there a scavenger's body showed that some resistance at least had been shown. But of all her people, Meegat was the sole survivor.

She wept, sitting alone in the midst of the desolation; dirt and blood on her once white robes. Finally, exhausted both physically and mentally, she slept, a haunted restless sleep of deep black despair.

The cold morning light did nothing to dispel her gloom, but she rose from where she had lain. Having nowhere else safe to go, she returned to the room inside the hill where she had watched her visitors launch the rocket that bore the seeds of new life for her people. Before she went she performed one last service to her dead people, and set their village alight in a great funeral pyre that burnt all day and into the night.

Sitting in the control room, thinking of the rocket she had caused to be launched, and of those who had performed the launch act for her, her face softened and relaxed. So although it was the end of those whose lives she had shared, their race still continued. As for herself...among the rows of consoles there had been one, she remembered, that carried communications from the planet to the emptiness of space. Suppose, just suppose, that she were able to call for rescue? And that that rescue came?

Rescue. She smiled a little to herself, a smile of unfamiliar bitterness and despair. Her own planet. The place she had lived all her life, and now she wanted and planned to be rescued – taken away from it. It was, in a way, funny. Ironical. Could the Liberator, she wondered, pick up her call, assuming she were able to make sense of the equipment and send out a call? She doubted it. That was what she would now wish for, above all things, and yet the chances of it actually happening were minimal. She stood by the console, simply remembering...In the hours between the launching of the rocket and the departure of Avon and his companions they had talked with her, and she had come to some sort of understanding of them and their ways. Not gods, not deities, but ordinary human beings. Well, not exactly ordinary, she decided. But people, like herself.

And surely where there was one ship in that starry sky, there must be others. And if she could make contact, she could leave Cephlon. There was, after all, no point in remaining. Her purpose had been fulfilled. The task for which she had been born had been performed, and performed well. Now her life was her own. She intended to live it out properly. Meegat was not the suicidal type, and she could not hope to remain unmolested by the scavengers. They would know she was there, and they would always be waiting for her...to send her the way they had sent the rest of her people.

Life, now she no longer Waited, and if she could escape Cephlon, could be interesting. There was so much to see. Maybe even...she smiled to herself.

Again, Meegat waited. But this time, not for gods.

Lur Wilken was puzzled. He knew of Cephlon, had passed the planet frequently. And he knew the civilization was long dead and that radiation levels on the planet's surface precluded any new life there. In the past he had never received anything from Cephlon, not even a murmur of static, but now he had a signal. A signal that had been coming in for over forty eight hours, continuously repeated. There was no meaning to it, no message in the random nature of the beacon, but it intrigued and puzzled him. A freak of nature? Or a call for help from someone unversed in communications? He wondered. He even considered ignoring it; surely by now the originator of any signal, if signal indeed it were, would have been long dead of the lethal radiation still present, after all those years, in the planet's atmosphere? He stood thoughtfully watching the planet approach on his viewscreen, tapping in and identifying the area from which the beacon originated. It would be possible, he decided, to land his ship reasonably near to that source. Curiousity, Lur decided wryly, always had been one of his strong points. And more than once, it had got him into trouble. What it would bring this time, he did not know. But he certainly intended to find out.

He brought the Daedalus into orbit and attempted to establish some sort of mutual communications, flicking through a number of channels. The signal was still coming in, and he finally managed to lock onto its source. He hesitated, and then spoke.

"Daedalus calling Cephlon. Are you receiving me?"

There was sudden dead silence. The beeping of the beacon ceased abruptly. Whistling static and scratching filled the ether. He frowned and repeated his call. "Daedalus calling Cephlon. Attempt to reply on a very low frequency. Try the bands. I will respond if I receive you." Again, the static and disturbance, and then dimly through it, the voice of a woman. He fiddled with his communications system until he was able to pick it up clearly. Disbelief and awe filled her voice.

"Who are you? Where are you?" He did not answer the questions but responded with one of his own.

"You are calling from the planet Cephlon, are you not? How long have you been there?"

This time there was amusement in her voice.

"All my life. I was born here. But I wish – I need to leave the planet."

He frowned thoughtfully over the communications console.

"I shall land my ship near your coordinates. I've been able to get them from your signal. But the radiation on Cephlon is a hazard. I cannot stay grounded long – "

"I shall watch and listen." There was sudden concern in the woman's voice. "Take care. The scavengers are a savage people. They may attack."

And what about you? He wondered, but said nothing. The Daedalus touched down not far from the doorway in the hillside and within ten minutes a woman emerged. She wore a once white robe that covered most of her body and head. Outside the doorway, she looked around carefully, and seeing no other signs of life, started to hurry towards the grounded ship.

Lur Wilken watched her in the viewscreen. She looked harmless enough. But looks alone were not enough to convince him. Sheer curiousity had brought him here, to respond to her call, and Lur was well aware of the hazards of curiousity. Then he sat up quickly, alert, as the small band of clumsy, scruffily dressed humanoids – the scavengers she had mentioned? – came into view and started threateningly towards the lone woman. Lur came to his feet, flicking a switch to open the entry hatch and grabbing up a weapon.

He emerged, shouting, "Run! Hurry!"

Meegat looked around, took in the situation rapidly and sprinted towards the Daedalus. Lur lifted the weapon and took careful aim at the humanoid closest to her. Meegat's would be attacker staggered and fell and the others hesitated, only briefly, but for long enough for her to run up the ramp and past him into the ship's interior. He let off a couple more shots and then ran across to hit the switch to close the door. She stood and regarded him calmly.

"I thank you."

"Are you alone, or is there anyone else?"

"There is no one." There was grief in her eyes, tears almost. "I am quite alone." She looked at the weapon he still held. "And I am harmless. I have no knowledge of your weapons."

Lur lowered the gun and looked at her seriously, consideringly, then he smiled slightly and put it down.

"All right. Sit down, lady. Over there." He pointed. "And do up the safety harness. We may have a rough lift off." Meegat turned and looked at the seat he had indicated. She sat easily enough, but fumbled helplessly with the harness.

"I do not know what to do with this – harness – is that what you called it?"

He crossed quickly and had to show her what he meant; it was clear she had no realisation of what the safety harness was, or of its purpose. Lur looked down at her. "When we lift off you may feel quite a bit of discomfort." He grinned a trifle sourly. "But just stay there. I'll get the ship off the surface first." Very likely, he decided, she would be able to do nothing other than simply 'stay there'; he was familiar and comfortable with the sensation of lift off and landing but it seemed improbable that she had any idea of what she would experience. He just hoped she wouldn't panic. "Sit still. And relax, all right?" She nodded at him and he regained his own place.

Meegat looked around curiously. This ship was nothing like the rocket that had been launched from her planet, neither was it anything like the Liberator. They had shown her the Liberator, on a viewscreen, before they had left, and on the same screen she had been able to watch this ship land. Clearly, space vessels came in many shapes and designs. Not to mention sizes. This one was small.

They had come in directly to the flight deck, where the main controls were clearly designed to be operated by only one person. Her rescuer seemed to be handling their departure quite capably; she had no qualms for their safety on that matter anyway. Even the force of the lift off was less discomfort than she had expected from his manner.

The flight deck was roughly circular, maybe six metres across and with a low ceiling. By one edge of the wall stood a wide cylindrical shaft that reached to the ceiling. Various consoles, lockers and other equipment, totally unfamiliar to her, lined the circular walls. In front of her was a viewscreen and as she watched the scene changed from the ground to clouds and finally to a starfield. The man flicked switches and checked readouts and then rose to come out of his seat, standing leaning against its back and regarding her seriously.

"Now, lady, let's talk."

"Yes." She smiled at him. "My name is Meegat."

"Meegat. And you are a native of Cephlon?"

"I was born there, yes. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes. Why did you put out a signal for rescue? I presume rescue was what you had intended?"

Meegat looked at him seriously.

"It is a very long story."

"We have plenty of time." He swung his seat around and sat down again, folding his arms. "I'm heading for Tyden. Does it matter to you where we go?"

"No." She was thoughtful for a moment, and then came to a decision. "Have you ever heard of a spaceship called the Liberator?"

Lur shook his head. "No. Can't say that I have."

"Oh." Meegat drooped a little, then she looked across at him again. "I have told you my name. What is yours? Is it Daedalus?"

"My ship is Daedalus. I am called Lur Wilken."

"Lur Wilken." She repeated it carefully. "I am very glad that you answered my call. I am quite alone now. My people were all killed by the scavengers. They are – ah – you saw them ."

"Yes. I had never realised Cephlon was still inhabited."

"And I – I had never realised there were people – people like me beyond Cephlon." She stood up, swaying a little. Lur noted with approval she had been able to work out herself how to open the harness catches. Meegat put out a hand to the wall to support herself. She suddenly realised just how exhausted she was. And relieved. She had sat by the communication console for so many hours she could not remember, afraid to sleep lest she miss anything, and yet slipping off again and again without knowing in the end how much time she had spent asleep or awake. "I am very tired. I must sleep."

Lur watched her steadily, realising she was almost out on her feet. He nodded slowly.

"Here." He crossed to the cylinder by the wall. "This is an elevator. Do you know what an elevator is?" She shook her head. "It will carry us to the floor above this one. You can sleep there."

Tentatively, she joined him and her eyes widened as the floor beneath her feet rose, carrying them both with it. Lur touched her hand, dispelling her alarm. "Don't be afraid, Meegat." Lady, he thought to himself, you've going to have a lot to learn.

Daedalus wasn't equipped in luxury, but even so, the narrow bunk was beyond anything Meegat had ever experienced. She lay down and pulled the covers up over herself, murmured a sleepy 'Thank you' and drifted off into sleep. Lur stood watching her, bemused, then returned to the elevator and hence to the flight deck.

Lur Wilken was a loner. He had been born on a rim world far from Federation control. Till his late teen years he had lived with his small family group, mother, father and two other children. He had studied, gained his pilot's licence and experience, and had left his home world far behind. In the past ten years he had made a practice of returning home once a year, more from a sense of duty than anything else. He stayed only long enough to see his family were all still alive and happy with their existence. He couldn't get away fast enough, departing for the wide open infinity of space. He liked his annual return, but wouldn't have been broken hearted if he had ceased it. People and family were not necessary to Lur. He could survive alone. Preferred to survive alone. He had settled, in a way, on Tyden, and had friends there, but was as often as not absent from the planet.

But now, he was no longer alone. He had a passenger, and like it or not a responsibility. Meegat. She puzzled him. Cephlon, she claimed, was where she had lived all her life. And yet Cephlon, by all his prior readings and information, was the home only of a dead civilization. Radiation poisoned its atmosphere. The inhabitants, as he had clearly seen by the scavengers, had mutated and reverted to primitivism. Even Meegat was a primitive, in her own way, having no awareness or experience with the technology that surrounded him. And yet she appeared intelligent, a little naive perhaps, showing little fear or suspicion of him, a total stranger. She had been unguarded enough to go straight off to sleep in foreign surroundings.

And then there was the matter of her curious query. The Liberator? Had he heard of the Liberator? He had said no, but upon thought and consideration the name struck a chord of memory somewhere...He frowned and moved to sit in front of a small computer console.

Daedalus was not a highly advanced ship; it was however by no means deficient or defective, being enough for Lur's purpose. His computer system was effective enough to bring up a very interesting readout when he queried the name. Lur read with interest. So...But how did Meegat of all people come to know the name of the Rebels' ship?

He reread the information. The ship the Liberator had been acquired – stolen from the Federation, the report said – by the rebel Roj Blake, together with two other criminals from the penal-colony bound ship the London. Other criminals had joined Blake later and they had struck several times at Federation installations and projects. Interesting...he turned off the viewer, sat for a while, then checked his ship was still en route for Tyden. Everything seemed to be progressing correctly, so he switched all the controls through to the upper deck, where he returned and sat watching the sleeping woman. He was hungry, so he crossed to the auto dispenser and had a light meal.

Meegat woke to a feeling of total disorientation. She lay on a narrow bed, comfortable enough in itself, but her body and her head ached. There was a continuous dull thrumming around her, that with her total lack of knowledge and experience she was unable to recognise as the ship's space drive. She lay on her side, with only the wall beside her, then she turned over to regard her surroundings, blinking and bringing herself slowly back to reality.

A small semi circular room, with her bed set into the straight wall and directly across from her a window set into the curve. And through that window she could see only stars and blackness. She sat up slowly, her head spinning with the dizziness thus induced. Then she became aware that she was not alone.

A man sat not two metres away, at his ease in a comfortable looking chair. He looked to be asleep. There was a table by him, and on the table a tray with the remains of what she had no trouble identifying as food and drink of some kind. She was hungry, she realised dully, but the smell of the food nauseated rather than tempted her. Slowly she moved on the bed to rest her back against the wall and look at the man.

Wilken. Lur Wilken. That was what he had said his name was. He had rescued her from Cephlon. She smiled, her eyes on his face. He was tall, solidly built with what was muscle and not fat. He wore a plain one piece coverall of some dark green material and his hair was short and very curly, a gingerish red matched by his short beard. Meegat stared, fascinated. None of her people had ever had hair that colour and none of the men had worn beards. Neither had the three from the Liberator.

She stood up and put her bare feet tentatively to the floor. It was hard but warm to the touch, with the faintest of vibrations. Meegat was relieved to find she could stand without further nausea and she crossed the room to stare out of the wide port. Behind her Lur stirred and woke, moving from his seat to come and stand by her.

"Meegat. I'm glad you've woken up. Are you hungry?"

She smiled at him. "A little. But what I would really like is to be able to wash myself." She fingered her once white robes sadly and he nodded.

"Of course. Come this way." The upper deck was divided and he led her along to the small but sufficient ablutionary facilities the Daedalus carried. "Here." Meegat regarded the equipment in dismay and a faint flush crept across her features as she turned to him.

"I do not understand what to do." He face crumpled suddenly and she seemed, for a moment, to be on the verge of tears. Lur frowned slightly and put his hand on her shoulder.

"You've never been off your planet, Meegat. You have a lot to learn. Here, I'll show you how all this works." She nodded, bringing her expression back under control with a clear effort.

"Thank you."

He showed her how to manipulate the taps and the sprays of water in the small self contained shower unit. Then he glanced at her clothes. "I'll bring something else for you to wear." He hesitated. "Some of my own clothes, I regret. I don't carry anything like that." She nodded, accepting the tunic and pants he returned with. "Do you think you can manage now?"

"Oh yes." She had gained rapidly in confidence during his explanations. "Now I can."

"All right. I'll get you something to eat. Um – are you a vegetarian? Or do you eat meat?"

"A vegetarian?" She frowned. "No, on Cephlon we ate both meat, from small animals, and also plants. I imagine I can eat anything. But not much." Her mouth curved in a beautiful smile of self deprecation. "I do feel hungry but my stomach warns me it does not want much."

Lur grinned and left her to it. When she finally emerged he pointed to a seat by the table and brought her a bowl. It contained a steaming liquid filled with small pieces of meat and vegetables.

"Soup," he said gently in explanation. "Something rather bland and tasteless, I suppose, but it would be wise to start slowly."

"Yes." She sat and spooned the food into her mouth slowly then looked up at him in approval and appreciation. "This is good. May I have some water to drink also?"

"Of course." He gave her the water and got himself a drink of a mildly alcoholic type. "You must tell me about yourself, Meegat, and also about Cephlon."

"Yes." She looked back at him gravely. "I suspect my life from now on will be very different from what it has been in the past."

And that, Lur decided wryly, was an understatement if ever there had been one!

When Meegat had finished her story he looked at her almost apprehensively.

"So what are you going to do now? You're not going to try going after the Liberator, are you? They're not gods, you know. As a matter of fact –" He told her then what he had found out about the Liberator and her crew, gaining no satisfaction from the sorrow his information clearly gave her. She looked uncertain.

"I really don't know. I'm not sure it would be good for anyone if I did that." She was sombre. "So they are all criminals. I did not think of that. I never thought they were that." He smiled.

"You thought they were gods."

"That is true." She looked up at him. "And, if you and not they had come to Cephlon first, I would have taken you for the one to bring deliverance to my people."

"I think you might have been out of luck." He grimaced. "I would not have known where to start. Launching rockets just isn't my style."

"No." She sat quietly, her eyes on his face. "Just what are you, Lur?"

He looked at her and didn't answer immediately, then he smiled faintly, the same sort of self mocking expression Avon had worn, she remembered.

"I'm nothing, Meegat."

She leaned forwards and touched his shoulder. "That is not so, Lur. You rescued me. To me, you are not – nothing."

He shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean – I'm just an ordinary person. I'm fortunate not to be under the Federation's control. If I were, I wouldn't be able to live the way I do." He smiled. "I'm an individual, and the Terran Federation doesn't much like individuals. They don't care for your friends on the Liberator either."

"No. It appears not." She looked around thoughtfully. "How long, Lur, till we reach – Tyden, was it?" He nodded and checked the console by the wall.

"About forty hours."

"I see. When we get there –"

"I have friends. They can help you, find you a place to live, to settle there if that's what you decide upon."

"I appreciate that. But I have a lot to learn. About people. About your society and your system. I do not wish to be known as a primitive who cannot tell the difference between men and gods!"

He grinned. "Fair enough. I'll teach you about Terran society."

"Terran?"

"From Earth – Terra. So many of our ancestors came from there originally."

"Mine too?" she asked and he shrugged.

"I don't know, Meegat. It's possible. But look, let's start with the overall organisation. The Terran Federation. It has control over many planets..."

Time passed. Days and weeks and months. On Aristo Ensor gave Orac to Blake and Cally, but died before he was able to reach the surface of the planet and safety. Servalan abused Travis pointlessly but with venom.

The System attempted, but unsuccessfully, to regain DSV2, now far better known as the Liberator, and a real thorn in the side of the Federation.

Blake gravitated to the idea of destroying Control, an idea that dominated his mind and his aims.

And on Tyden...

"It is an opportunity, Lur, that I had never considered would come my way."

"But it's dangerous for you, Meegat, don't you see that?" Lur was becoming more upset and frustrated, not with fear for himself, but fear for Meegat. Twelve months before, he would have laughed at the idea of one person ever being so important to him, but then things had changed, utterly and irrevocably. Meegat, as he had come to realise, was no true primitive. She was a complex mixture of emotions, instincts and intelligence. The two former had been reinforced by the mysticism and mythology of her earlier existence on Cephlon, but the latter had bloomed under his instruction, and tutelage.

And yet, withal, she was shrewd, a shrewdness through which her strange naivety still showed, frequent and unexpected. She was determined. And loyal.

Loyal, Lur thought bitterly, to the memory of the Rebels who had visited Cephlon, not so very long before him. Well, he admitted to himself, according to her way of thinking she did owe them a debt. Dislike it as he did, he could still see that.

Meegat had taken to life on Tyden with total ease, acquiring friends and allies by the score. Lur, himself a retiring person, had started by introducing her into his small circle of friends, and she had never suffered a moment's self doubt.

There had been a period of dark danger to her, a time when it appeared she might die, having been so used to Cephlon and its irradiated atmosphere that Tyden's very safeness threatened her life. Lur had taken her to a close friend of his, Lyndon, a medical expert. To him they had told the truth of her background and origin, something they had kept hidden from everyone else. Meegat had no wish to be considered an oddity, a sole survivor of some alien culture. Lyndon had been fascinated by her story, and had eventually come up with the idea of a tiny implant within her body. It supplied her tissues with the radiation she needed in order to live; the same radiation that would have been lethal to anyone else. She had recovered rapidly and lived as normal and full a life as any other inhabitant of Tyden.

But then, Lur thought bitterly, he had made a mistake. A grave one. He had introduced Meegat to Shan Morgan, a man whom he knew to be strongly opposed to the ideas of the Terran Federation. He had not, in spite of having been Morgan's friend for many years, realised the depth of his hostility to the Federation, or of his involvement.

When Morgan had mentioned Blake, Meegat had stopped what she was doing, had stood absolutely still and regarded him in sudden sharp interest.

"Blake?"

Shan Morgan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You've met Blake?"

"I've heard of the Liberator."

Morgan laughed a trifle derisively. "Well, who hasn't? But Blake himself, and the crew – it's considered an honour, in my circle anyway, to meet any of them. Blake's a hero, don't you realise? He's fighting for freedom and – "

"All right, Morgan, that's enough." Lur's voice was unnaturally harsh and Morgan regarded him sourly.

"What's the matter, Lur? Afraid I'll fill your lady friend's head with all sorts of heroic nonsense?"

"Something like that." Lur's voice was flat. "I don't want to hear any more about Blake – "

"Oh, but I do, Lur. Please, Shan, have you ever met Blake yourself? Or –" She stopped herself. " – or any of the rest of the crew?"

Morgan gave her a strange look, and then swung his gaze to Lur.

"No. But I do know where they are. They, and their ship."

"I said that's enough!" Lur stood up angrily and Morgan measured him silently. Meegat hurried to Lur, sensing the tension between the two men, until that moment the best of friends, and she touched his shoulder gently.

"Please, Lur. Let him tell me."

"Meegat." He gave her a long searching gaze, then relaxed, the tenseness and bitterness disappearing from his face and voice. He sighed and turned slowly back to Shan Morgan. "Tell her about Blake then. Where is he?"

Morgan had watched them in something like bewilderment. Now he let out his breath slowly.

"What is it? Why – "

Lur shook his head wearily. "Just tell her about Blake, Morgan." He sat down.

"Well." Morgan shrugged. "It's really only just a rumour – "

"A rumour!"

"But all the reports do tend to back it up. He's linked up with Kasabi's group. And they are on Earth. I think – it sounds as if Blake is going to strike at Central Control. So the rumours say." He grinned at them. "And I – and a few others from Tyden – we are going there also. There's going to be an almighty fight, Lur, a fight for freedom – and we're going to be right in the middle of it!"

"Freedom!" Lur almost spat the word. "We are free, Morgan. The Federation has no hold or control over Tyden. What are you talking about? Freedom? We have it already."

"But not everyone has it." Morgan faced him. "There are many planets in slavery, Lur. We can join forces with Blake. The destruction of the Federation Central Control will mean freedom for all. Not just for us. Can't you see that?"

Lur shook his head. "All I can see, Morgan, is that many men are going to die for an unachievable ideal. I regret, my friend, that if you go to join Blake, you are likely to be one of them. And Meegat –"

The woman flashed Morgan one of her brilliant naive smiles.

"Is it far from Tyden to Earth?"

Hence their argument. Meegat got her own way in the end, of course. She had always got her own way with Lur. He felt a complexity of feeling towards her; protectiveness, amazement at her innocence, and, reluctant as he was to admit it, pride and some measure of affection. He had brought her from an alien barbaric planet and she had blossomed under his care on Tyden.

Now he feared he could lose her.

And losing Meegat was the one thing Lur knew he would not be able to face.

When Shan Morgan and his little group of would-be Rebels left Tyden, Lur Wilken and Meegat also left. The Daedalus and the Warlock, Morgan's ship, set course for Earth. At nights, when Meegat slept, her mouth curved slightly in her memories and dreams. In her innocent enthusiasm she failed to see the pain in Lur Wilken's eyes when he looked at her.

Their expedition never reached the Solar System. When they were still days away a message came through that Blake's raid had been an abortive fiasco. Kasabi's group had been practically annihilated. Blake, it seemed, had made his way into Control successfully, but as to exactly what had happened after that, there was no clear report. But the Federation still functioned fully and efficiently, so clearly, whatever Blake had done, it had been insufficient to change anything.

But there was worse. One of Blake's crew was reported killed in the raid. Lur was watching Meegat when this information came in, and she blanched and clutched at her seat for support.

"Not Avon...no..." Her voice was a whisper. Lur shook his head then as the report continued.

No. Gan. Olag Gan."

"Gan." She sat suddenly, and Lur wondered briefly, and not without shame, whether her tears were grief for the dead man or relief that it had not been Avon. She left the flight deck of the Daedalus in silence, leaving Lur to speak with Morgan who had relayed the information from the Warlock.

"We can't proceed to Earth then. Is there anywhere safe for us around here, do you know?"

"I'm going on," retorted Morgan. "With Kasabi gone, and only her daughter left, the scattered rebels on Earth are going to need a new leader – "

"And it's going to be you, heh?"

Morgan chuckled, but totally without humour, a short bitter sound. "Might as well be me as anyone else. What about you?"

"No." Lur's voice was flat and definite. "Do you have any reports on the Liberator?"

"Nah. Hey, is that lovely lady friend of your trying to catch up with them? Why?"

Lur smiled. "A long story, Morgan. Look." He consulted his charts and readouts. "We're close to Verena, that's a neutral planet in the Nyrellian system. I'm going to land there. The Daedalus needs a few minor repairs and a couple of things looked after. I'll land near Juniper. I'll give you its coordinates. Land there, Shan. Give yourself and your men a break before you continue on to Earth. You'll all need the breathing space before you come to any final decision. And you'll have the time then to plan a definite course of action."

There was a pause from the communicator and then Morgan signalled his agreement. Daedalus and Warlock continued towards Verena while far away Blake carried his burden of guilt outwards and away from the Solar System.

Verena was a disappointment for Morgan. With news of Blake's failure and Kasabi's death fresh in their minds, most of his little group of would be rebels decided to give up their fight for other people's freedom. Some disappeared into the anonymous crowd that populated Juniper, a couple hitched lifts on various freighters heading in the general direction of Tyden and Morgan found himself alone. He hid his bitter disappointment from those who left him, figuring logically that if they were forced to stay they would be less than whole hearted and a liability rather than a help. He sold Warlock to the first trader who expressed interest and promptly headed into Juniper to get drunk.

Had Meegat ever met Blake, she would have been struck by the similarity between him and Morgan, at least in their outlook and ideas. But whereas Blake had a crew and a ship, Morgan had nothing, only high hopes and ideals. He lacked even the determination that drove Blake on to fight in spite of Gan's death. Blake reacted by isolating himself and then coming to the decision to fight on; Morgan took refuge, as had so many before him, in alcohol. To Lur Wilken, who knew Morgan better perhaps then he knew himself, it was more of a relief. Morgan, he knew, had passionate beliefs and enthusiasms. He simply lacked the drive to achieve anything himself.

Lur and Meegat managed, a week later, to catch up with Morgan and they took him back to the Daedalus, lifting off from Verena with no firm goal in mind. Meegat had not liked Juniper; it was a soulless garish city full of bright lights and empty faces. After Morgan had sobered up, she made him tell her all he knew of Blake's raid on Central Control and when he had related all he head heard, culminating in Gan's death and the departure of the Liberator, she sat and wept.

"Poor Gan. He was a – protective person. Solid. He and Vila made each other laugh. But – "

Morgan sat up and blinked, his eyes on her face. "You knew them? You, Meegat? How did you know them?" He turned his head to Lur. "Did she know Blake, too?"

But Meegat answered. "I did not meet them all. I never met Blake, nor the woman called Cally. It seems such a long time ago. I was a different person then." She sat and told him all she had told Lur, and Morgan's eyes widened.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said softly when she had finished. "So. You are a surprise, Meegat. Do you want to find them again?" His expression went sly. "You want to find Avon."

Meegat frowned, missing the mockery in his voice and the pain in Lur's expression.

"I don't know. Lur asked me that, after he took me away from Cephlon. I didn't think then that I did. I thought it would be better if not. But now, I'm not sure." She sat down, her face thoughtful. "My people – my ancestors – brought destruction upon themselves. They fought a great war, and life was destroyed. If Blake continues as he is, surely he also will bring great destruction?" She shook her head. "I don't know. And yet, they must be fighting for what they believe to be the right."

"The Federation is evil," Morgan said softly. "Blake is on the right side, Meegat. He is after freedom, not destruction."

"True." She nodded slowly. "And you, Shan, you would wish to fight with him for that freedom."

Morgan looked wry. "I'd wish to," he said slowly, "but now I truly doubt my capability to do so. I am a farmer, not a rebel."

"Good." Lur Wilken stood up purposefully. "Then let's all go home, hey? I've had enough of this business."

"No!" Meegat cried. "No, Lur! You can't just turn your back, and say it is none of our concern, and just go home."

"I can." He stared at her flatly and she shook her head in desperation. For the first time since he had landed on Cephlon and taken her into his ship, she felt alienated from him. She was full of confusion. Lur was her friend, her ally, in a way her saviour – yet he had no sympathy for her feelings. And Shan Morgan, who felt as she felt, admitted freely his inability actually to do anything. She felt lonely, alone and totally alien to these people whom she knew to be her friends. She let out her breath, her feelings a mixture of frustration, anger, confusion and despair.

The knowledge of Gan's death had shaken her, had made her wonder whether maybe she also owed something to the remaining members of Blake's crew, whether maybe she also should try to fight for their cause. But she owed Lur. Making a decision was not easy; it was one of the most difficult things Meegat had ever had to do. She stood and looked at Lur levelly.

"All right then, Lur. Go home then. Go home to your peaceful little planet. But you can stop somewhere along the way and let me go. I know what I want – and I will somehow achieve it – with or without you and Morgan!"

"Don't be foolish, Meegat –" Shan started but Lur's voice cut through his, low and with a tone in it he had never heard before.

"If that's what you want, Meegat." He turned to his control console and tapped out directives, then looked back at her, his face almost expressionless. "We shall put you down on Albian, then. You will find others there who think and feel as you do."

He did not look at either of them as he rose and left the flight deck. Shan watched him go and shook his head gently as he looked across at Meegat. Her face was white and strained, and there was a bright suspicious glitter in her eyes, but as she became aware of the sympathy plain in his gaze her face hardened, with an effort.

"No," she said quietly, more to herself than to him. "No, I will not stop now. I must go on, as I have started. Lur..." She turned her back abruptly on Shan, to stare through the observation port. He sat in helpless silence, caught between his two friends.

Albian, Meegat decided very quickly, was even worse, but in a different way, than either Tyden or Verena. It was populated with a mix of peoples, with a wide range in outlook, from those who practically worshipped the Terran Federation, to those who would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, starting with the small Federation representation on the planet. Meegat did not stay long in any one place, but wandered from town to town, city to city, in search of she still did not rightly know what. On lonely nights she looked into the star speckled black sky, and dreamed sad and lonely dreams of far away planets, and far away people. Lur Wilken had gone, gone into her past, as surely, she felt bitterly, as if he were dead. It hurt to think that he had left her so apparently easily, and that both he and Shan Morgan had returned to Tyden, to peace and obscurity, while she was unhappy and undecided and alone.

Even knowing that it had been her own choice and her own actions did nothing to alleviate her pain. She alone of the People of Cephlon had survived, and for what reason? she asked herself bitterly. Her job had been done; she should have remained on her planet, or even gone with Lur Wilken to follow his bidding and the bidding of her heart. Instead she had let herself be alone, without home or friends. And for no logical reason...

She entered the city of the Federation base less than two hours after the Liberator had been and gone, leaving behind it among others Del Grant to help reorganise the people of the planet. Meegat, hearing the rumours and tales of the successful, although nearly disastrous rebellion, made a desperate attempt to reach him. She had been alone for a long time, eating poorly and sleeping restlessly, suffering from nightmares, without realising she was not merely under strain, but had become physically ill.

Del Grant looked round from the computer console he had been working at, to see the woman by the door. Her face was white and thin, her eyes large and tired looking, but with something in them that caught his attention.

"I'm busy –" he started, but she took a step forwards.

"I am looking for the Liberator. You spoke with them?"

"Yes." He frowned, but as he started towards her she fell to the floor.

Grant shouted for an aide and rushed to the woman's side. She was barely conscious, but she looked up at him through almost closed eyes and murmured, "Meegat...my name is Meegat...I am from Cephlon...the Liberator...I must find..."

The medical attendant looked up and scowled at Del Grant.

"She's not like any human species I've ever encountered. The radiation levels in her body, they should have killed any normal person." He grinned sourly. "Don't worry – she's not a walking bomb if that's what bothers you. She seems to have some sort of implant, one that irradiates her body tissues. Or has been doing so." He was puzzled. "It's not the radiation that's making her so ill, Grant; it's the fact that it's running down. The lack of radiation is going to kill her, if she can't have it replaced. And replaced very soon, I'd say."

"Cephlon," Grant said slowly. "She said she was from the planet Cephlon. What do you know about that?"

Vala looked sour. "Not a nice place to live. There was a war there, eons ago. If her people survived, then they've become mutants. They apparently need the radiation to live." His face was grave. "I can't do anything for her. The operation she will need, to replace the implant, can be carried out by only a qualified – and very adept – cyber surgeon. I could try, but anything I did would be more likely to kill her than to cure."

"A cyber surgeon." Del Grant sat thoughtfully and then his face brightened a little. "Docholli!"

"Docholli? Who's he?"

"The one Blake's looking for now. He told me about him, well...He told me what Provine had said before he died, that Docholli was a cyber surgeon, and had some connection with the Federation Central Control." Grant shrugged, his face a thoughtful scowl. "If there's anyone who can help her, he'd be the one. But how to get hold of him, that's another matter. The Liberator's long gone. I doubt I could contact them anyway. But Docholli...I'll see what I can do." He hurried from the medical centre, leaving Vala staring after him blankly. Then the medic returned to Meegat's side, and looked down at her sadly.

Till Grant had called him hastily to his office, he had never set eyes on the woman, nor had he ever heard of the planet of Cephlon, although he had been able to find information on it readily enough. But she had touched something in him, and his normal cool objectivity had gone as he'd looked down at her white face. He murmured softly, knowing she was unaware of either his voice or even of his presence.

"I would try to help you, I really would. But unless this Docholli can help you, then you will die, of that I'm sure."

Meegat drifted in and out of dreams and hallucinations, while Del Grant worked on trying to trace either Docholli or the Liberator.

It was Docholli he found first. And not merely Docholli but his dark and lonely bodyguard. The captain of the Trantinian trader, albeit a friend of the barmaid on Freedom City, had seen no harm in answering the query from Albian about the occupations of any passengers he might be carrying. It was, after all, from a non-Federation planet, the Federation threat to Albian having been destroyed. Upon hearing that the services of a cyber surgeon were required , and required most urgently, and upon being assured he would be so very well paid for the detour, he agreed, without informing Docholli, to take him there.

Docholli was disgusted, his bodyguard ferociously angry, but the ship captain remained bland and clearly forceful that they would make the detour. So Travis accompanied his charge and came face to face with Del Grant, unaware of the other's connections. It would indeed have been a bitter joke to Travis, to have known this young and energetic mercenary was brother to the notorious and successful Security agent known as Bartolemew.

Travis's identity was no secret to Grant, and he itched to dispatch the man unceremoniously and permanently, but Docholli, clearly dependant upon the other man for protection, put an end to any suggestion of that.

"I shall carry out the operation," he assured Grant, "but only with your personal word of honour that we shall both be allowed to leave here afterwards, in total safety." He smiled, an old man's wry smile, at Grant. "You would gain nothing by killing either of us. Of that I can assure you."

Grant nodded slowly. "We agree. Where will you go after you leave here?" he asked and the old man shrugged.

"I care little. As for Travis, he has his own road to follow. I shall not hold him to me after we leave here."

"You could always stay," Grant pointed out. "You are safe from whoever it is you're running from, here – and we could always use a man of your talents."

Docholli smiled tiredly. "I'll think on it."

Travis brooded impotently while Docholli worked on the tiny device implanted in Meegat's body. The Cephlon woman fascinated the surgeon, and when Travis, bored and frustrated at his enforced inactivity, came looking for him, he was standing over her sleeping figure, speaking with Vala.

"She will live now," he was assuring the younger man. "That implant will prevent any further sickness. Quite a fascinating case," he said slowly. "Something I've heard of, but never actually come across. Ah, Travis! Come here a moment."

Travis was surly, itching to leave the place. Medical centres gave him the creeps, and he ached to leave the planet and get after Blake again. And the seeds for an almighty plan for revenge against not merely those who had personally offended him; Blake and Servalan, but the whole of humanity, were growing in the murks of his mind. But Docholli seemed uninterested in going anywhere.

"Docholli. When are we going? I have things to do. I can't stay here any longer."

The old cyber surgeon regarded him with soft sad eyes. "You leave, Travis. Any time you wish. They have no interest in you here. You are free. You and I don't need each other any more."

Travis's eye widened. "Damn you, Docholli! What if this arm breaks down again? I'll need you then – and where will you be?"

"Here." The old man smiled. "I shall remain here, Travis. And you shall not be needing my help again. Your arm is in perfect condition." Your mind, he thought sadly, is quite another matter.

Travis stood and glared for a long moment, then he nodded slowly and started to turn away.

"I shall find Blake, Docholli. I shall find him – and this time I shall succeed." His smile hinted at mania and Vala shuddered, then frowned.

"That's odd. Interesting." He nibbled at his nail and regarded Travis thoughtfully. "She also –"

"What?" demanded Travis. "What about her?"

Vala stared straight at him. Too late, he realised he'd said too much.

"She also is searching for Blake. For the Liberator at least."

An expression of cunning slid across Travis's features. "Is that so?" he murmured, and moved to stand and look down at the woman. Vala wished, in total futility, that he could have bitten out his tongue rather than arouse the interest of this clearly dangerous man in Meegat.

"She was probably raving," he amended quickly. "She's probably just heard some rumour and got it fixed in her mind. It must have come out while she was delirious, that's all. Probably nothing at all."

Travis turned and looked at him coldly, all the venom of his single eye concentrated upon Vala. His voice was low and soft but filled with threat.

"Shut up." He turned to Docholli. "There is something you will do for me. One last small job..."

When Del Grant, inundated with the trivial day to day matters of assisting in the reorganisation and administration of Albian, was able to return to the medical centre, it was to find that Docholli had opted to remain on the planet but that Travis had left.

And with him he had taken Meegat, now more or less recovered. She apparently, had gone with him quite willingly.

Grant sighed, wondered for a day or two, and then put them both behind him. There was nothing he could so; he was not able even to trace their destination. The matter would have to heal itself; he had more important matters to attend to. He reburied himself in the reconstruction of Albian.

A mild form of hypnosis had been all that was required, Docholli had assured Travis, to ensure that Meegat would speak freely. Travis would have preferred a stronger conditioning, but there had been no time for that. He had wanted to leave the planet as soon as possible, while Grant was still occupied. Meegat had answered all his questions willingly enough; all those dealing with Cephlon, the Liberator and its crew, and everything that had happened to her since that day when she had opened the hillside door to those she had at first believed to be gods. But although she answered his queries, she still remained her own person. Docholli had not put her completely into Travis's power. She would not obey him, if what he requested went against her own inclinations. In Travis she had seen a way off the planet, and had taken the risk of whatever dangers threatened her in his company.

Docholli had implanted within her the idea that Travis was her friend, that what he wanted was good for both her and him, and that he could be relied upon in her search. What she did not know was why Travis also wished to find the Liberator. It might have been better if Docholli had been able to suppress Meegat's natural curiousity, or even better, from Travis's point of view, if he had opted to wipe from her mind what she knew of the Terran Federation. Travis had been presented to her as a rebel against the system, but fighting for himself rather than for an ideal, as Blake fought. But Meegat, not the innocent naive creature she had been on Cephlon, was not so easily deceived.

She sat across the small flight deck from Travis and regarded him curiously. He scowled, aware of her gaze, and irritated by both it and her apparent total lack of fear of him. Docholli had done a far from satisfactory job on this woman's mind, he thought sourly.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded, a sneer in his tone.

"Why do you search for the Liberator?" she asked.

"That has nothing to do with you." His tone was harsh and she frowned.

"I have accompanied you. We both seek the same goal. But I do not understand why." She shook her head gently. "I do not even understand properly why I have come with you. I do not like you."

"Whether you like me or not is quite immaterial to the success of our search." Travis decided he'd had enough of the conversation, if such it could be called, and turned his attention to his charts and controls. Meegat regarded the back of his head for several moments in silence and then gave a gentle half smile.

"Goth. You are headed for the planet Goth."

Travis whirled to her. "How did you know that?"

Her smile was serene. "Docholli told me. But you will not take me there. You are going to put me off somewhere along the way."

Travis scowled at her again. She irked him, as no woman had ever done, excepting that so unique person, Servalan, and in an entirely different manner. There was absolutely no comparison between the two women, and yet each had succeeded in touching him in a way he neither understood nor enjoyed.

"I think I should jettison you. Like a useless piece of excess cargo. You are no use to me now."

"I never was of any use to you, Travis. I have given you no real information or help. What I have told you has no value." She tilted he head slightly. "And you are not a man who desires a woman as a sex object." She paused, her eyes on his face. "So why did you bring me along? As a bargaining point, perhaps?" She laughed mockingly. "I am of no consequence to anyone aboard the Liberator. Not even to Avon, I imagine. He and they have most likely long forgotten me."

Travis caught the slight bitterness in her voice and smiled to himself.

"You have a low opinion of them, after all." His tone was insinuating and she shook her head.

"No. Lur taught me to be a realist, at least sometimes. Lur..." Her voice faded into silence and she was unaware of his steady stare.

Travis stood up and walked to stand over her.

"I brought you with me," he said harshly, "because if I had left you there and you had started wandering again, you would probably have eventually encountered Servalan. She would make use of you. One way or another. She never lacks a nefarious scheme to use all of those with whom she comes in contact." His voice became wry and self mocking. "So I've saved you, in a way. Perhaps you should be grateful to me."

Meegat stood up, almost angry. She knew who Servalan was.

"I am of less use to her than to anyone, even you." She smiled faintly and sighed. "I should have gone back home with Lur."

"So it would seem," Travis said. "But it's too late now, Meegat." He fingered the controls and spoke without turning to her. "In twenty four hours we shall land on a small Federation planet called Sharla. I shall leave you there and after I have been to Goth I shall return for you."

"Why?" she asked quickly and he smiled.

"Why am I leaving you there, or why am I returning for you?"

"Both."

"The people of Goth do not like outworlders. And I work better, travel faster, alone." She sat still and quiet and made no comment.

When he arrived on Sharla he contacted the head of the Federation there, a man he had known for many years and who would still follow his orders, in spite of the fact that to the majority of the Federation Travis was a traitor and a fugitive. He left Meegat there in his custody, for safety, but when he was preparing to leave she put her hand on his arm.

"Travis – goodbye."

"I'll be back."

She shook her head. "No. No, Travis, you will never return for me. Never."
He gave her a hard look but addressed himself to the officer.

"Make sure she is detained – but in comfort. You will answer personally for her safety. If she is not here when I return –"

"You will not return," Meegat repeated softly. He made no response, but swung on his heel and left her staring after him. He never had told her why he intended returning for her...

The captain on Sharla waited in vain for Travis's return. From Goth the renegade Space Commander went to deal with the Andromedans, to perform his 'final act' of revenge against a galaxy that had rejected him. And on Star One he perished. Meegat woke from a whirling black dream, to sit and know he was dead, would never return to claim her as he had said. And she knew also, inexplicably, that the Liberator was involved somehow with his death and the destruction she could sense in the future of this and many planets. She shed a few bitter salt tears and lay down again, to sleep and find strength for whatever was to follow.

Tyden...she had to get somehow, in the chaos she sensed imminent, to Tyden. Back to Lur Wilken and Shan Morgan and to the safety she had once experienced, yet left for she did not rightly know what.

The Federation ships stationed on and near Sharla were called into the battle against the alien fleet early in the game, and the civilians of the planet, Meegat among them, awaited the outcome of the battle for dominance. There were a couple of life craft put down on the planet, one of them occupied by a semi amorphous blob of multi coloured jelly that tried desperately to form itself into a humanoid form and escape detection, only to be blasted into oblivion by a group of armed settlers.

Finally things settled down and the civilians of Sharla, bereft of their Federation overlords, began to work their way back to independence and civilization. Meegat found herself caught up in the actions, regarded by many as a prisoner of the Federation and therefore most likely a Rebel against the system. She did her best to aid them, acting largely as a buffer between various factions of the settlers, mediating in disputes and bringing together those who could actually do things to help. She displayed a remarkable ability to soothe and calm, and bring out in the wildest of people the best of their qualities. The impetuous would listen to her, the angered would discuss rationally their anger and find it channelled constructively. In her short time on Sharla Meegat was largely responsible for the swift recovery of the planet. But she found no permanent fulfilment in her work, and when she was offered safe passage from Sharla, to a destination closer to Tyden, she accepted unhesitatingly, and was farewelled with affection and respect by all those whom she had come to know during her sojourn there.

But her ship never reached its destination...

Between Sharla and Tyden lay the planet Chenga.

Servalan, escaping narrowly the fate she so worthily deserved, influenced the Chengan authorities to give her safe passage off the planet. So when the ship carrying Meegat touched down to let disembark a native Chengan on her way home, it was promptly commandeered by the Terran President. Meegat, hearing of the identity of their important passenger, and remembering what Travis had said, in addition to all she had learned about the woman from Lur Wilken and Shan, made every effort to stay out of her way.

The ship however was so small that their meeting was more or less inevitable.

Meegat still wore, whenever feasible and practical, a white flowing robe such as she had worn on Cephlon, in the time of her Waiting. It was the style of the white robe, and the manner of the woman who wore it, that caught Servalan's attention.

"You!" she called sharply. "Meegat stopped unwillingly and turned to her.

"Yes?"

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

For the first time ever Meegat regretted her total inability to lie. Travis had not frightened her; Lur Wilken and Avon had both inspired feelings of trust and warmth, but this regal woman, with her smooth face and cold eyes, was another matter entirely.

"My name is Meegat."

"And where are you from? What is your home planet?"

"I come from Cephlon."

Servalan's eyes narrowed. She knew the history of the planet; it had been mentioned in her study texts, of years before.

"Cephlon is a dead planet. There is no one there."

Meegat smiled faintly. "The scavengers still remain. But I am the last of the People." Her mouth curved gently. "Our race will however live on. Deliverance was acquired."

Servalan frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Meegat shrugged, aware that she had likely said too much and aroused the interest of the President.

"It is nothing, Servalan."

"So, you know who I am?"

"We have all been made aware of your presence and your identity." She inclined her head and spoke gravely. "Madam President, may I retire?"

Servalan spoke deliberately. "No. No, Meegat, I wish to speak with you." She smiled, an expression hopefully to inspire confidence and trust. "I wish to know more about your planet." Cephlon, she thought. The name rings a bell, somewhere. It may be important. She took Meegat's arm. "Come and let us find somewhere comfortable to sit and talk."

Meegat sighed. "If you insist."

"Oh but I do. Indeed I do. You and I, Meegat of Cephlon, are going to have a long and interesting talk." And then, thought Servalan, I am going to find out all about you, and why the name Cephlon jars something in my memory. Something more than just its history...She remembered later, and it really had been nothing important after all. Merely the planet over which Ensor and Maryatt's ship had exploded. The planet where they had died. But where Ensor, before dying, had told Blake of the power cells to be taken to his father on Aristo. The Liberator had been in orbit around Cephlon...Servalan smiled narrowly and secretively to herself.

Not important. But definitely intriguing...

"We have to find Blake," Vila said doggedly. Avon and Tarrant both looked at him but neither made any response and he continued. "Well, we do. We need Blake."

"Do we?" inquired Tarrant, and Avon gave him a quick cold look.

"Vila is right. For once. The question is – where do we start? If you were Roj Blake, where would you go?" He let his stare lose focus for a moment and then shook himself abruptly. "Assuming, of course, that Blake is still alive."

There was silence. Vila drained the contents of his glass morosely. Tarrant stared at star charts, and Avon stood thoughtfully.

...for what it is worth, Avon, I have always trusted you. Right from the very beginning...

Trust. Damned, damned trust!

He owed Blake. He had to find him.

Vila refilled his glass and sat staring into the liquid, his expression vague, his glass held up to the light. Beyond him Cally and Dayna entered the flight deck.

"P'haps he's dead," Vila said. But Cally, realising immediately who 'he' was, shook her head as she went to sit by him.

"No, Vila. Blake still lives. Of this I am certain."

Avon's eyes held an expression she could not read.

"You feel it, do you? You feel he is not dead?"

Cally fixed Avon with a cool stare. They had discussed her 'feelings' before, but she knew there was no real taunt behind his words this time. He sounded...almost hopeful...as if he wanted to be reassured of a fact.

"I know Blake lives, as I know you, or any one of us here, lives. It is more than a simple feeling, it is a total awareness. But where –" She shook her head and broke off. "– that I do not know."

"So where are we going to start looking for him?" demanded Dayna.

Tarrant turned back from the star charts. "Do we have to look for Blake?"

Vila stared at him. "What do you mean by that, Tarrant? That we should just desert him and not do anything at all?" He fairly bristled with indignation, and by him Cally sat, her eyes widening at Tarrant's words. But he raised his hands in an attempt to mollify them.

"I mean – surely Blake has some way of contacting the Liberator? He wasn't that badly hurt, was he, when he left, that he wouldn't have thought to make some provision for getting back on board? A teleport bracelet, surely? Or maybe a code word he could send to Zen or Orac via whatever communications he could get at, to have himself collected. Surely he thought of the possibility of you all being separated – as indeed you all were?"

Avon shook his head, thinking over what Tarrant had said.

"No. Blake was an idealist, Tarrant. Not a devious man, as he should perhaps have been." He sighed. "Orac and Zen have made the most thorough of searches. I have directed their resources towards finding Blake, but I have had no success. I do not know where to look now. Or even where to start." He lapsed into a bitter silence.

Vila sat and stared at his now empty glass, and then he started and looked up and around at them all.

"Earth, of course!"

"What?" from both Tarrant and Cally. Dayna looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

"Vila, what are you going on about?"

The thief sighed contentedly; he had answered the question they had all been asking, and to him the answer was quite obvious. When you thought about it, that was.

"Earth. That's where we ought to go, and start a proper look for him." He blithely discounted the hours Avon had put in with their computer tracer systems. "The Federation's still in chaos, isn't it?"

"And Servalan has made herself its new President," Avon added. "She also will be on her way there as fast as possible."

"Good. That decides it. Vila, you're brighter than you look." Dayna walked across to address Zen. "A direct route for Earth, Zen. Speed standard by eight."

"In a hurry, aren't we all?" commented Tarrant, as no one else moved to raise any objection to Dayna's order. Vila shot him a cheeky glance.

"What's the matter, Tarrant? D'you think Blake'll be too much competition for you to handle?"

Tarrant gave him what was intended to be a withering stare.

"I don't plan of competing with anyone, Vila. Least of all Roj Blake."

Avon permitted himself a small and cynical smile but said nothing, and the Liberator headed on through space for Earth.

"I am a prisoner then, am I?" Meegat stared levelly at the President, who gestured disparagingly with her elegant hands.

"Not entirely. You are under – shall we say – protective custody."

"I am no use to you. None at all. Let me go, Madam President, I beg of you."

"Go? Where would you go, Meegat? You have no home."

No home, Meegat thought ruefully. Not on Cephlon, anyway. But there was still Tyden, and Lur Wilken.

Lur Wilken. She let herself think of him, as she had not done for many weeks. He, and Tyden, were home. Would have been home, if she had been content to remain there. Or if her ship had not been taken over for the President. ...She sighed and sat down, reiterating her plea.

"I am of no use to you. Let me go."

"No." Servalan was implacable. "I like you, Meegat. You have something about you – I don't quite know what it is..." Her voice trailed off into silence and the other woman frowned.

"I don't understand you, Servalan. I have nothing. I am no one."

The President smiled faintly. "People are attracted to you. You are somewhat of a mystic." She shook her head. "The roughest, hardest men...they melt when you are around them. You touch something in them."

Meegat laughed disparagingly. "Madam President, I am not a seductress."

"No." Servalan shook her head. "It isn't that. It is something about your manner – you appeal to the better side in each of us."

Even me, she thought ruefully. I, who have never called another woman my friend, and meant it. I like you...and I do not know why...

Servalan regarded Meegat thoughtfully, with the hint of threat in her tone. "You see, if I let you go free, and you tried to work against me, you would have no trouble acquiring followers. You are that sort of person. You could be dangerous to me. To the Federation, and its stability. I would prefer to keep you here, in total safety for both of us."

Meegat shook her head. Servalan's thirst for power, her near megalomania, and her fear of being overthrown, were incomprehensible to the woman from Cephlon. But she clearly had no choice.

Meegat liked Earth, or would have, had circumstances been different. She was free to come and go as she pleased. Within the limits of a certain area, that was, and with a Federation guard, frequently changed. Servalan feared, inexplicably, Meegat's softening influence on her guard. She had been quite genuine when she had told the other woman that she liked her, but she would not, could not, allow any feelings to interfere with her ambition. So Meegat remained a prisoner, in fact if not in name.

The white robed woman became a familiar sight around the Presidential residence. Her presence there, and the few rights she had, became part of official information, recorded within the central computer filing systems, and as such, ultimately available to Orac.

In an attempt to find Blake, if indeed he was on or near Earth, Avon had set Orac to tap into the central records, especially concerning any personnel in and around the Federation bases and centres on Earth. Inevitably, the name of the woman frequently in the President's company, and the fact that she had no official status, came through via Orac. Orac however, being without humanity, had no way of detecting Meegat's unwillingness to be there. The name of the woman, however, it had no trouble acquiring.

Meegat.

Vila came onto the flight deck to find Avon leaning over the console, his face pale and tense.

"What did you say, Orac?"

"I said – in a clearly audible manner – "

"Yes, I know. Say it again. Vila, listen."

"Huh?"

"There is a woman in the Federation headquarters. She does nothing, has no official position, although the circumstances and information do tend to suggest that she is more or less a prisoner, although certainly not under any kind of restraints. She is identified simply by the name of Meegat, and she is listed as having originated from the planet Cephlon. This planet –"

Avon pulled out Orac's key and there was silence.

Vila stared at him blankly. "Meegat?" He caught his breath and stared at Avon. "But – she – I mean –"

"How did she get from Cephlon, to such a position near Servalan?" Avon put in dryly. He looked bemused. Servalan and Meegat were the two most unlikely women to be close to each other. He wondered...

Vila shook his head. "She has to be a prisoner. She's definitely not Servalan's sort of person. We have to get her out of there, Avon."

Avon nodded slowly. "It's strange, Vila. We came here looking for Blake – and incidentally there's absolutely no sign whatsoever of him turned up so far. Not even in Central Records, which is where Orac traced Meegat. I'm sure Blake's nowhere in the Solar System. Zen and Orac have been very thorough. They couldn't have missed anything. But –" His smile was faint. "– we don't find Blake, we find Meegat instead. But why? What is she doing here on Earth? And with Servalan, of all people?"

"Well, she wouldn't be there by choice, I imagine," Vila said thoughtfully. "Well, I mean to say...she thought we were gods of some sort."

"I imagine Servalan would have very quickly removed that illusion. If indeed she still looked upon us that way." He gave Vila a cold smile. "If she still regarded me that way." He became brisk, missing Vila's amused grin. "She is permitted outside the Dome, as long as there is a guard with her. One guard, Vila. And she is in the habit of walking outside the Dome during the evenings. Orac should have no trouble whatsoever tracing her exact position."

"We go down?"

"What do you think?"

"And what then?" Vila frowned. "What...what if it turns out, that she really is there by choice?"

"We...will see. I...really don't know." Avon shook his head and Vila felt a small chill of fear.

"Avon? You're not considering – harming her? If she turns out to be there of her own free will? If she turns out to be helping Servalan in some way?"

Avon blinked, for once at a loss for words. He shook his head, momentarily shocked as he realised the reason for Vila's concern.

"Vila, you are a fool. I wouldn't harm Meegat if my life depended upon it." He pulled himself together. "Servalan, now, is another matter. And apparently she is often with her. They walk together, outside. For enjoyment, I presume." He laughed disparagingly. "If Servalan accompanies her I think we can anticipate more than one guard. But not so many as to make it difficult. Teleporting down outside the Dome is still far easier and safer than into any of the residences."

Dayna and Cally had entered while Avon had been talking and the dark girl crossed to him determinedly.

"What's going on?"

Vila chortled. "Avon's going to rescue an old admirer."

"Really?" Dayna gave Avon a hard stare. "What is going on?"

Vila opened his mouth to speak again but Avon beat him to it, explaining all he considered necessary in a few short sentences. The two women listened in silence and then Dayna nodded.

"Good. If you're going down, then I'm coming too. I owe Servalan, remember?"

Avon didn't waste his breath arguing. "All right, Dayna. Zen, establish orbit. Cally, go and find the coordinates. Here, take Orac with you. It can pinpoint the location." He slipped the activator key back in and handed Orac over to her. "The Liberator won't run any risk of being detected; we've got the shielding device in full operation. Zen, put the ship on full surveillance status, and keep the battle computers on line." He grinned at Vila mirthlessly. "Just to be on the safe side." Vila nodded enthusiastically and he smiled slightly. "I thought you'd approve."

"Avon? Be careful."

"Yes." Avon turned to follow Dayna and Cally. In the teleport Cally was sitting with Orac on the nearby console, setting the coordinates.

"Avon? Was there any sign of Blake?"

He shook his head, buckling on a power pack and weapon belt.

"Just Meegat."

Cally smiled across at Dayna, and at Tarrant, who had also made his way to the area.

"She thought they were gods."

"Who? Avon and Vila?"

Cally smiled gently. "Avon mostly, I think. I didn't meet her, but I would have liked to have."

"If things go right," Avon said coolly, "you will be able to meet her. You can come down with Dayna and me. Tarrant, you can operate the teleport." He looked at the other man unsmilingly. "You don't mind, do you?"

Tarrant shrugged and then shrugged "Apparently not." He sat down and started moving switches.

Servalan found Meegat's enjoyment of walking outside well nigh incomprehensible. Meegat stood motionless, regarding the darkening starry sky, while Servalan watched her and a trio of guards kept watch over Madam President. She had so very many enemies, and outside was a dangerous place to go.

"I feel so very small and insignificant out here," Meegat said softly and Servalan grimaced to herself. She never felt small or insignificant. "It is so enormous, such a great space of stars. There is a rocket out there somewhere, Servalan, bound for a far distant planet. The seeds of my People are in it. They will live again one day, although I am the last one now."

Servalan nodded absently. Meegat had told her readily enough about the people from the Liberator and what they had done for her, although the Terran President had clearly found the vision of the Rebels as do-gooders hard to imagine. But Lur Wilken, Meegat had mentioned but briefly, fearing for him and his safety should Servalan feel inclined towards harming him. She had no illusions about the woman who held her prisoner on Earth.

"It was your function, was it not, to wait for someone to come and launch the rocket for you?"

"That is so. And there were many others before me, who waited and hoped in vain." She smiled, her mouth curving gently in memory. "But I was the one. They came while I was there."

"Yes." Servalan looked at her and shivered. "Meegat, I'm cold. Come back inside the Dome now."

As the other woman sighed and turned to follow her, three figures materialised in front of them.

"Stand very still, Servalan, or I'll kill you right now!" Dayna held her gun in eager outstretched hands, while Cally and Avon, on either side of her, held the guards covered.

"Raise your hands," Cally directed them calmly. "We don't plan on there being any violence this time – but it is your own choice." They complied willingly enough when faced with the alternative, in spite of the furious glances Servalan directed towards them.

"Meegat." Avon stepped forwards, the gun in one hand pointed away from her and at one of the guards. In his other hand he held a teleport bracelet, but he did not immediately offer it to her.

"The Lord Avon," she said softly, with a hint of gentle irony. "I hadn't really thought I'd ever see any of you again."

"Will you come with us? The Liberator can take you any place you want."

She regarded him gravely for a long moment and then held out her hand for the bracelet.

"Meegat, don't trust them! They're criminals – murderers! You're putting yourself in great danger going with them." Servalan's voice was sharp and Meegat turned her head to her but Dayna spoke first.

"You're one to talk about being a murderer, Servalan! And you shan't have to worry about her, in any case. I am going to kill you – now!"

"No!" Meegat raised her hand. "Don't kill her." Intercepting their puzzled looks, she shook her head. "She never harmed me. And violence is not my way. I could not leave here if the price of my freedom were her life."

Dayna stared at her bleakly. "She murdered my father, Meegat. In cold blood. He was blind."

"And if you kill her here and now, in this manner, you will be no better, surely, than you think she is?"

"That doesn't really bother me."

/She's right but, Dayna. Your father would not have wished it this way. And if you kill Servalan like this, then Meegat –/

Dayna looked at Cally angrily, then at Meegat standing with the bracelet in her hand. Avon, she noticed, now had his eyes on Meegat, not Servalan. She scowled, defeated.

"All right, Cally." She raised her weapon and smiled at the Terran President. "Next time, Servalan. I don't give up." Avon clipped the bracelet around Meegat's wrist and Dayna spoke again. "You can bring us up now, Tarrant."

But as the teleport took them, she took great pleasure from loosing off a couple of shots, one to each side of Servalan, leaving her white faced and stricken, angry but unhurt.

Meegat looked at her in consternation. "You did not –"

"I did not." Dayna took off her teleport bracelet and slammed it down with unnecessary violence. "Not this time."

Vila stood by Tarrant at the teleport, and raised a hand to greet Meegat as she stepped from the teleport bay with them, her eyes widening at the experience of instant travel.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I would like to go home, please."

Avon regarded her steadily. "Servalan owes her life to you, but I doubt she feels particularly grateful. I could have let Dayna kill her. I could have killed her myself."

"She is a lonely woman."

Vila chortled. "I've heard her called a lot of things, but never that."

Meegat touched his shoulder. "Vila. It has been a long time since I met you all." She looked sad. "I heard Gan had been killed."

"Yes." Avon took her hand. "Meegat, this is Dayna, Tarrant and Cally."

/You are very welcome here, Meegat, Truly./

Meegat's face reflected her delight. "A telepath!"

"I am from the planet Auron."

"Lur told me about the people of Auron," Meegat said gravely. "You are fortunate indeed to possess such a gift." She turned back to Avon. "My home is no longer on the planet Cephlon. My people were all killed by the scavengers."

"I'm sorry." There was genuine sympathy in his voice. "Come, Meegat, and tell us all about what's happened to you. Tarrant, let's get the Liberator out of the Solar System. Servalan's not very happy with us."

Tyden, isolated, and with its own small agricultural and light industrial economy, had avoided most of the disasters associated with the destruction of Star One and the following galactic war. Many of its young, and not-so-young men, however, were drafted quite indiscriminately into the Federation forces to defend the galaxy. Independent, the planet was; but its men were very useful and available. Most wanted to fight, anyway.

Among those unlucky enough to be drafted to fight, and again lucky enough to survive to return, were Shan Morgan and Lur Wilken. Lur returned with his antagonism to organised anything even more firmly entrenched. Shan, having finally tasted true action, had decided once was enough to last him a lifetime. He returned to his quiet rural life, to dream sometimes about what might have been, had he been a different sort of person. But Lur refitted the Daedalus and took again to the skies. He returned from time to time, but he grew more taciturn, and more prone to walking alone, sleeping poorly the few nights he did spend on the planet. Shan regarded his friend in helpless sympathy, and shook his head.

Meegat.

She had disappeared without trace, if not before the war, then during the myriad displacements and upheavals following it. Lur followed rumours and hints, time and time again, but every time he returned alone to Tyden, and he was thinner and tireder every time re did so. Shan said and did nothing, seeing there was indeed little he could do or say. Time alone would be the cure...maybe.

And there were rumours then, as there always had been, of the Rebels against the Terran Federation. They were said to have destroyed Star One, and they were said also to have been the sole buffer between the Andromedan invaders and the destruction of the human galaxy. Nothing was certain, but everything was rumoured or claimed. Time passed.

"Lur Wilken," Avon said slowly. "He sounds a good man."

"He is." Meegat smiled wryly. "If I can get back to him, and if he wants me back."

"He'd be insane not to want that."

"I've changed, you know. I have seen worlds and people I once never dreamed could exist. I am not the primitive who thought you were all gods."

"We all change. It's a part of living, and growing."

"I am glad to have met you all again." She shook her head in regret. "No, not all. Gan is dead. And Jenna – "

"We will find her. And we will find Blake."

"I hope so. You are lost without him."

"You think so?"

Meegat ignored the bland mockery in his voice. "I shall always remember you all. Your – Orac, is it – sent a message to Lur, you said? On the Daedalus?"

"Yes." Avon stood up and paced the room. "We are going to meet him, on Sharla. He's been looking for you, for a long time."

"Sharla." Meegat nodded. "I was there for a while."

"The people of Sharla remembered you. You helped them."

"Yes." She sighed. "Home. I'm going home, at last. I never ever thought, after my people were all killed, that I would have a place I could truly call home."

He watched her in silence. There was, after all, nothing he could say. Or could trust himself to say.

The Daedalus had touched down sometime during the night.

Shan had heard it in his sleep, but had merely rolled over again, thinking drowsily that the morning would see Lur out to his small farm again, tired and thin and pale. Shan rose early to prepare himself a meal, putting extra aside should his friend arrive during the morning. But he was still busy preparing the food when he heard the small flitter Lur used to travel from the landing port.

He did not go out to greet his friend, but waited for him to enter, tensing himself as usual for the sight of an older, tireder looking man.

But when the knock came and he called for Lur to enter it was a happy man who came into the small house. Beside him, where she looked as if she would always belong, and smiling also at Shan, came Meegat.

"Shan," she said gently. "We're home to stay. My gods who were people and not truly gods, rescued me from Earth. They brought me deliverance – twice over."