Blake's 7 - Liberators
The sequel to Blake's 7 - Survivors
Chapter 7
"My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier... A good one, if not always a lucky one. I was born a little under sixty-three years ago on Ocean Habitat Three-Zero in Old Earth Administration Zone Delta, and got away from there as soon as it was possible to do so. I've done a lot of bad things, in my time, and a fair bit of good.
I've often killed for money. I've occasionally killed for a worthwhile cause. I have never killed for pleasure, or for mere convenience. On one day, long ago, I helped save an entire planet and its people. I failed to avenge the death of my sister, and - eventually - forgave the man who killed her.
I loved a woman with all of my heart, and lost her without ever telling her that, and then I had to endure seeing her go on as a shadow, a parody, of herself - A deceit that I devised, and one that I have perpetuated for nine long years. Now, the only remnant I have left in this blighted universe of the woman that I loved is in danger, and my duty is clear.
Let her die.
Keep watching. Keep listening. Keep waiting, for the best chance of victory in this endless war... Let her die... And I have never failed in my duty.
My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier..."
Proxima II
Always at dawn... Why was it always at dawn? Reporting for another shift, Tev Kopper had no sooner made his way around the perimeter of his yard than it became clear this was not going to be any ordinary day.
This was a day long expected. This was the day they had come for him.
"I knew this would happen, you know," he mused chattily. "Only a matter of time, really."
He sighed, as they all just stood in silence, the dozen or so black-clad soldiers, anonymous behind their masked helmets. The President's elite guards, and maybe a couple of them were... Oh yeah, the First Lady's guards, that was interesting... "I'm glad they sent you, at least you're quite a smart bunch. Regular UniS troops are a proper shambles..."
He smiled, looking for a reaction and seeing it in a couple of cocked heads. "Am I right, eh...? I'm not wrong!" He bet he could have got a laugh out of this bunch, given enough time... Time, however, was in short supply now. "All right, lads," he said, resigned. "Let's get it over with, eh...? Let's not make a meal of it. I hope you can all shoot straight."
"You're coming with us."
Kopper shook his head, slowly and deliberately. "Nah." He smiled warmly, eyes crinkling, face half-obscured by his mustache. "I'm not going anywhere. We all know what's going to happen, so let's just get it done here. Seriously, lads, if you don't I'll just make it a lot more difficult for you... More difficult than any of you can imagine. Promise."
There was no reply, but he heard the faint clicking down the line as their guns were readied for firing. "Go on, you know you want to..." Kopper urged. "You know it makes sense."
They stood there for a bit longer, for so long that eventually his calm acceptance of the situation started to waver. Another thought occurred to him, and he felt the need to voice it. Well, he could hardly leave it till later, now could he...?
"There's just one thing, lads... How did you find me...? I mean, I knew it would happen one day... But... Who was it? Was I betrayed? Was I just unlucky? Satisfy my curiosity, at least...!"
They fired.
Just as Tev Kopper's bullet-riddled body hit the ground, another party of President Scarn's elite troops was storming up the derelict stairs of an abandoned apartment block in one of the less fashionable areas of the Kapital, and when they reached the top floor they encountered resistance - Resistance that was surprised and unprepared, and ultimately ineffective.
Joining the fight piecemeal, Avalon's Proximan operatives engaged in an intense but ultimately doomed exchange of fire and were quickly wiped out... No one allowed themselves to be captured, indeed some even turned their guns on themselves rather than allow that to happen. Trampling the bodies, the UniS soldiers swept through the makeshift headquarters and scoured the place for any survivors, or for anything that could be useful.
"Report follows... Operation Washday is a success... Repeat - Operation Washday is a success. Details to follow in supplementary report." Grabbing one of his men, the officer's voice broke a little in his excitement as he demanded an answer to the only question that remotely troubled him in the moment of his success. "Is he here...? Is he among them? Grant! Is he here?"
The non-com officer shook his head briefly.
All across the Kapital, and across the other cities of Proxima II, throughout the smaller settlements too, a coordinated operation took place. Everywhere, Avalon's rebels fell or were rounded up - occasionally a listening post or a cell would be found abandoned, very occasionally the operatives would have gotten out just in time, but overall the operation was a massive success. In the space of a few hours, Avalon's movement had had its infiltration of UniS's centre completely broken, its few survivors scattered and on the run.
Unfortunately, the most sought-after prize, Avalon's operative number one on Proxima II, was elusive.
"My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier... A mercenary, and a good one. And a survivor. For many years, I fought for those who would pay me to do so - Not blindly, and not without conscience, but seldom for any cause I strongly believed in.
Then, one day, that changed. I met a woman whose light shone so bright it illuminates my path clearly today, even though today she's further beyond my reach than ever. A woman who has inspired two generations of resistance to tyranny so far, and inspired me more than anyone. Her child, no longer a child, is going to die, if I let her, and perhaps even if I try to stop it.
My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier..."
"We are to commence immediately. Maximum dose for her weight is authorised."
"But we don't know how that will affect her... She already has enough to-"
"-Maximum dose... Will you administer, or will I find someone else who will? That should not be difficult."
"Maximum dose it is..."
Avral was in a cell on the detention block of the Kapital's Presidential Palace. She had to keep telling herself that, keep reminding, because as hour after hour of her imprisonment passed, her mind became more and more clouded. She remembered, half-remembered, having some kind of injection administered, against her fierce resistance... Touching her arms, she felt the bruising where the guards had restrained her.
Yes, that had been real... That was real... She had been given drugs. Twice. She was certain there had been a second time too, but her memory was so...
She was in a cell. She was a prisoner. She had to keep a hold of that.
Good morning, said the voice. Did it say that, or was it just in her mind? Good morning, it said again. The voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite...
"Good morning," she replied, not really knowing why. If the voice was only in her head, it would give anyone monitoring her something to think about at least.
I want to ask you some questions, it said, soothing.
"Of course you do... Who doesn't?" The tips of her hair were still a little damp from the last attempt to ask her questions, not to mention the bruises to add to her collection.
I want to ask you about Blake, it said, and there was little that could have surprised her more than that. As a shot of adrenaline surged through her, she felt the effects of the drug intensifying, like a dark tidal wave threatening to overwhelm her senses, sure to overpower her reason and her will to resist. If she allowed it, and even probably if she did not.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, and to her annoyance it sounded rather feeble rather than defiant as she intended. "Why?"
Blake. What do you know of Blake?
"He's dead!"
Not him... Roj Blake is gone, but we want to know of his successor... What is she to him? Where did she come from...? Where is she vulnerable?
"Successor? What are you talking about?!" Avral had forgotten by this time that the voice was probably only in her mind, and shouted the question. Those monitoring her could be certain their drugs were working, all right.
How can she be contacted? Who else knows?
"Don't answer them."
Was this voice in her head too? She felt a presence in the cell with her, and saw a large shadow fall over her outstretched legs, but resisted looking up for some time, afraid of what she might see. The voice was male, and deep, a little sonorous, the vocal chords scarred. It was not a voice she knew, but one she felt she ought to somehow.
Avral looked.
"Don't answer them," the man said again. "Don't let them in." He was tall and heavily-built, a little older than Del Grant and his face was scarred heavily on one side. His shock of curly hair was almost white. He was an imposing figure, and could be intimidating she was sure, but she found his presence enormously reassuring, even if he wasn't really there.
"Blake," she breathed. "Are you the drugs?" Her eyes glazed, and she laughed quietly. This seemed like the funniest thing she had ever seen or heard.
"The drugs don't work," he replied, smiling warmly. "Not if you don't let them."
"You would know...?"
"Oh, yes," he said. "I've been through this, and worse."
She closed her eyes, suddenly very groggy. "They're trying to break me."
"They won't."
We won't break you, Avral. We will save you. Your life is too valuable to waste.
"It's them again," she told Blake, suddenly aware how crazy that was. "Don't let them in, you said. Just how do I stop them?"
"By finding somewhere within yourself, somewhere at the very centre of your mind, and build a wall that they cannot penetrate. Hide there, for as long as it takes, and they can't touch you. Not now, or ever."
"I know the voice they use," she told him, even though she knew he wasn't real. "How do I know that voice? If only I could think!"
"What's she doing...?" asked the small, thin med-tech. "Who's she talking to?"
"You've never seen this effect before?"
"Not quite like this, no."
"I wonder..." said the interrogator. "I wonder if we can use this somehow..." He leaned over the microphone, and thought carefully about what he was going to say...
You're the only one left, said the voice. The only one, Avral. The last survivor. We don't need you for information, we're only trying to help you. Help us do that... We're the only hope you have left...
Avral's heart went arrhythmic as a terrifying thing happened... Suddenly, she was sinking, just as the lights slowly dimmed before abruptly plunging her into darkness... She was sinking into the void, into the endless blackness. "Blake!" she screamed. "Blake, where are you?! Are you still there?!"
Blake can't help you... She's not here. She cannot always be there, and you're alone. The only one left. The only survivor. You're not a freedom fighter, not a liberator... Only a survivor, as we all are. Accept that, accept who you are. Accept... my love. It's all you have left.
Why did the voice keep referring to Blake as she? Avral fought the overwhelming wave of darkness that threatened to overwhelm her, and cling on to some sense of herself, of who she actually was... Roj Blake was gone, she was alone now, and that was fine - He had helped her when she needed him, just as the child she had once been always hoped he might.
"He did return, Del!" she yelled. "He came back just when we needed him most, just as I said he would!"
Tell us about Blake, the voice said. Tell us what you do know. It would make things so much better for you... Don't you want things to be better...? You deserve so much, Avral... You deserve a proper life... Love... Let me do that for you... Let me save you!
"You're still rather in character, aren't you?" observed the med-tech sniffily.
"Whatever it takes," said the Unified Systems Classified Field Agent who had chosen, on his last deep cover assignment, to be known as Walar. "Whatever it takes," he said again.
"If you say so."
"Blake was the one thing they wouldn't let me near," said Walar, suddenly intense. "The one thing Avalon and Grant kept to themselves. Or did they share anything with her...? I have to know."
"It would certainly benefit your career no end, I suppose."
"Why else would I be doing this?"
"Frankly," said the med-tech. "I was beginning to wonder."
I'm here, the voice said. I'm here with you, Avral. Reach out, you'll find me... Here I am.
Lost and alone in the darkness, in her desperation Avral did as the voice suggested, and in the moment her hands came into contact with the person who was with her in the void, she finally recognised his voice. "Walar!" she cried. "Walar! I don't think I've ever been-" She stopped, the rational part of her mind reining her in, making her think. "No, you can't be Walar... I let him escape, Walar's free because of me... I saved him."
Even as she said that, her fingers were reaching gently for his face, feeling the shape of it, the contours, and finding it corresponded to the face she knew. It felt solid, and warm in this cold, cold place. Real. But he couldn't be.
"It is me," he said soothingly, his hands closing around her smaller ones, stroking them, clasping them. "I came back for you, Avral... I was never going to leave you here..."
"Well, you should have!" she said fiercely. "I risked my life to save yours, and you should have got back to report the situation... You should have... Should have... If only I could think straight...!"
"Let me handle this," he said. "I've taken care of all of it, and I'm getting you out of here. Just trust me."
"Of course I trust you," she said, and swiftly stopped herself from continuing. "No, I trust Walar... I don't know who or what you are!"
"Avral, it is me," he tried to reassure her, hands cupping her face gently. "I could never leave you... Doesn't that sound like me...?"
She thought about that, fighting to stay rational, and finally concluded that he was right about that. Walar was a valued comrade, and a friend, and she knew he was also a problem she had to deal with, a problem she kept kicking further and further away in the hope it would resolve itself in time. "Yes," she said at last.
"Avral... I love you. I've come back for you, and I'm not going to let anyone or anything harm you. Not ever. You hear me?"
"I... hear you." Her mind was clouding again, and the feeling of his hands on her face was becoming less distinct, less real.
"I need to take care of something," he said. "But I will be back for you, all right? I promise. Have I ever broken a promise to you?"
Yes, she thought. Yes, you have... But I forgive you that, my friend.
"You know why I have called you here...?"
"I imagine so, yes," said Dr Guld quietly, as she closed the doors of Lady Shilena's private office behind her and moved toward where the old woman sat at her desk. "The order has come, and not before time... We're to hold the girl hostage. This could be our best chance yet to-"
"-No."
"No?" Dr Guld frowned, with confusion and perhaps with something else behind her calculating dark eyes. "What do you mean, no?" She quickly backtracked. "Apologies, my lady, I-"
"-I was surprised too. That plan... is not approved. Avalon's daughter is to be executed immediately."
"Immediately? But that's irrational...! That's-"
"-No, my dear. My husband is many things, but he is seldom irrational. This is to some purpose, you can depend on that."
"But she's our best chance yet!" Dr Guld's tone was plaintive now, and Lady Shilena frowned slightly. "We could make Avalon stand down from all her current operations. Even... I know it's ambitious, but isn't there at least a chance she might give herself up for the girl Avral?" Dr Guld's objections were starting to sound a little exhaustive to the point of being desperate, even to her, and she stopped right away at the realisation.
"Try not to take it all too personally, dear. I know it must be frustrating to have your recommendations ignored..." A faraway look. "Oh, believe me, I know..."
"Then, if that's all, my lady... Might I be excused?"
"Oh, certainly." Lady Shilena watched, eyes hooded, as her aide backed away and departed the office.
Avral was back in the cell again, and she clutched the smooth walls with the tips of her fingers as if letting go would make her sink back into the dark void. The effects of the drugs must be wearing off, the rational part of her mind told her, but she was still terrified of going back to that void.
Walar? Had that been real...? Had any of that been real? It seemed remarkable, but it had felt so real... Was he coming back for her? Then, with a start, she realised she was no longer alone in the cell... There was someone there...
It was Walar! He had come back...! Before she could even come to terms with that, he had closed the distance between them and was crouching down next to her, clasping her hands again. "Avral," he said urgently. "You have to listen to me, all right...? Listen. You have to give me something. Something I can tell them, to keep you... To stop them..." Suddenly desperate and visibly under stress, he ran a hand through his hair, destroying the waxed fin shape completely.
"Walar... What is this...?" She noticed his uniform, and recognised the service branch it belonged to with a faint chill that ran down her spine. She had lost friends to people who had worn uniforms like that. What was Walar doing wearing that uniform?
"You hear me?" He gripped her shoulders, a little rough now, and placed his face close to hers. "I'm trying to save your life! You have to give me some information. Just a little, no more, just enough to make them think you have more. Tell me about Blake."
"Blake?" Avral's eyes were losing their glazed quality, as her vision and her mind gradually cleared, and she began putting all of this confusion into order... Walar... An enemy agent. It seemed incredible, and yet... He was.
"Blake... Anything. Just something... Because otherwise, you're going to die! The order has come down, and I can only have it changed if something major happens, and even that isn't guaranteed. You understand me?"
"I understand, yes..." she said slowly. "I understand."
"Good," he said, apparently genuinely relieved. "I can't let them execute you, Avral, I can't. Because... I might have lied to you, lied to you about a lot of things, but one thing... One thing was real. Not at first, but as time went on... I do love you. I've never felt like this about... You do understand... I can't let them kill you."
He wasn't prepared for what she did, and even a moment before she acted Avral didn't know what she was going to do. Once her decision had been made, the training kicked in and Walar became merely the latest opponent she had faced - an opponent who had made himself exceedingly vulnerable.
He yelped and fell back in agony as her thumbs were jammed savagely into his eyes, and his hands came up too late to defend his face. She used the opportunity to grab a hold of the cord that secured his uniform tunic, yanked it free with a snapping sound, then she was round behind him and looped it twice around his throat...
By the time he realised what she was doing, it was too late, and Walar choked, his legs kicking out frantically as she turned the cord in her hands again and again, her overwhelming anger lending her greater strength than she normally possessed. Walar fought, his bleeding eyes bulging, his hands clawing at hers, gasping for breath that he couldn't draw...
Slowly, bit by bit, his struggling stopped. When she was sure it was done, Avral backed away into the corner and sat against the wall again. Walar twitched a few times, but that was merely his body's reflex action. He was dead.
The traitor was dead.
Time passed. Avral remained sat with her back to the wall of the cell, not moving, eyes fixed on the wall opposite. Aware of the motionless body of Walar in front of her, and not even sparing it a glance. Not even when they came in with a stretcher to take it away, or carefully unraveled the cord from around his neck, and nor did she appear to notice the nervous glances any of the medical staff darted at her.
She felt nothing. The traitor was dead. Soon, probably, she would be joining him. She felt nothing.
Nothing at all.
From far away in the complex, a faint announcement, slightly distorted by the loudspeakers and her distance from them. "Shuttle launch in one hour... Mark."
Dr Guld got back to her office with a pretense of unhurried serenity, but no sooner could she be sure of privacy than she hurriedly got to work. Her comm-unit was activated, and it was the work of an impatient few minutes to access the secret channels, and within those the secret channels only she even knew about. Any doubt that she was doing the right thing, or indeed the clever thing, was put aside in her sheer hurry to make contact before it was too late. There...
Urgent, she typed furiously. Execution proceeding in point-nine-seven solar hours, details as discussed. Same arrangements apply. Action required subject to command priorities. Ends.
She sat back, still wondering if what she had done was right. Or wise.
"This is unexpected," Lady Shilena remarked guardedly as the screen came to life and displayed the cherubic visage of President Scarn. He was smiling benignly, and she very much wished he would stop that. It just made her uneasy.
"Unexpected?" he queried. "I gave you notice of the call."
"Not what I meant, and you know it. What do you want?"
"I need a reason to want to talk to you, my dear wife...?"
"Definitely."
"I thought I'd give you time to settle back in, first..." he said. "But naturally, after that I'd want to speak with you. After all, it has been some time."
"Your doing, not mine." She considered for a moment, face forming a cruel smile. "Does this mean I can expect a conjugal visit at some point?"
He smiled too, his a hollow one. "I fear those days might be behind us, my dear."
"Speak for yourself."
"I felt the need to explain myself..."
"Really?"
"It occurred to me, this incident with the captured dissident, given who she happens to be... It might have rather hit home. I thought you deserved to know why I'm going ahead with the execution."
"Are you going to explain it to the Presidium too?"
He chuckled. "Not quite yet, dearest. Their time will come. Soon."
"You've been saying that for rather a long time."
"And during that time I have rendered them entirely impotent...!" Realising he had risen to her bait, he made himself calm down.
"Care to rephrase...?" Lady Shilena inquired shrewdly, laughter threatening.
"This is a delicate time," he said. "A time of crisis, a time of decision. Swift, decisive action is the way to deal with Avalon's rebels now, and-"
"-Illegal justice? In private?"
"Have you become one of them, dearest one...? Of all things, that I never thought I would live to see."
"I have seen a lot of things pass that once seemed unlikely," she mused. "Why, once your very survival seemed unlikely... Hunted through the forests like an animal by Federation troops... Till my family raised you up."
"That is history now," he assured her. "Lost, and irrelevant."
"Just as they would have raised me up, had I not had the temerity to be a woman in a system that does not allow a woman to rule."
"You are ruling, my dear... As we speak. In my name, but ruling nonetheless."
"Of course..."
"So you have no objections...? I respect your right to be... somewhat troubled by this... Given your... history." That word again. Erno Scarn lived in the moment, and no one knew that quite like his wife. It puzzled him why others let the past trouble them, but he had never been above using that fact against them.
"Why did you release me?" she asked.
"A discussion for another day," he said, after a pause.
"Just how many days do we have left, husband? One day, we must all make good on our promises... and our obligations."
"Oh..." said Scarn. "I intend to."
"Shuttle launch in eight minutes... Mark."
Avral was brought, stumbling in the grip of the executioners, to the tunnel, manacled and under heavy guard. Hurried through the heavy round hatch, feet crunching on the carbonised residue, she was still dazed, perhaps mercifully, as she was fastened to the metal beam using the waiting chains.
Her consciousness returned gradually as the executioners, their grim work largely done, retreated and their harsh footsteps receded... Still only half-aware of her surroundings, Avral heard the squeal of the hatch being swung open wide enough for the two large men in their bulky protective gear to pass through. She waited for the loud clanging as the hatch was sealed.
She continued to wait, eyes tight shut. Slowly, horribly becoming aware of where she was and what was about to happen... Waiting for the blast of intense heat and the tiny fragments of white-hot material that would eviscerate her as she was powerless to move...
"Shuttle launch in three minutes... Mark. Support personnel must evacuate launch area if they have not already done so... There will be no further warning."
The sound never seemed to come... She wondered why, and also - Was that gunfire...? - What was that sound...? More crunching footsteps, far more urgent than those of her executioners...
"Shuttle launch in one minute... Mark."
When she woke again, it was fairly quickly to full alertness, most of the drugs now out of her system, and Avral sat bold upright before her vision properly cleared.
She was being lightly buffeted in her seat, making it clear she was in a vehicle of some sort, and it was only a second before she recognised the reassuring, slightly tangy odour of gun oil and soma, and her smooth hands were reaching out and clasping the rough ones of Del Grant.
His deeply-lined face came into focus. "Welcome back," he said, his features uncharacteristically joyful, and she held on to his hands tighter as if she might otherwise lose her grip on this reality and fall back into the endless void.
"Where...?" Whatever question she was going to ask, another one took its place as the full implications started to become clear. "What have you done?"
"Done?" His face assumed its normal grimness again. "What I had to."
"So what happens now?"
"Now, at last, we start resisting," he said. "This time, for real. We may just have lost a battle, but we're going to start winning the war."
"How exactly do you propose we do that?"
"With a little help... From Avalon..." That was said with an air of resigned sadness, followed by a more hopeful quality as he added, "And from Blake." He took out a wrapped bundle and, as Avral watched, he carefully unwrapped a small object... A metallic bracelet, dark with coloured panels and controls, smooth and shiny in places yet scuffed and worn by the passage of time.
"You've had that..." she breathed. "All this time."
"Yes."
"Because you thought they'd come back... Even after Gauda Prime, even after all those years."
"Thought, no," he said, as if to himself, and then finally looked at her. "Only hoped."
"My name is Del Grant, and I am a soldier again... A good one, and if I'm lucky, just this once, I'll make a real difference... Either this is the day I die, or this is the day I start living again."
The spacecraft was old and battered, its hull dull and pock-marked by the hazards of space. Its armaments respectable but not formidable enough to draw too much attention. If anyone looked too closely, it was a sturdy cargo ship going about its business, perhaps at worst it was a privateer. Better to steer well clear of it, unless your own ship were particularly heavily-armed, and even then why force a confrontation with a stranger?
Inside, the equipment was old and patched-up, the quarters very much lived-in. The bridge was dimly-lit, the instrument panels scored, the small crew as worn as the ship, intently focused on their goal.
Taking Avalon from one successful operation to the next, sparking resistance on every inhabited world dominated by Unified Systems. The same job many of them had been doing for a very long time.
Along the narrow connecting corridor to the bridge, Avalon walked slowly and steadily, acknowledging the greetings of her crew whenever any of them passed. She was of medium-height and slim of build, her black leather tunic and trousers covered by a dark cloak. There were the first traces of silver in her dark brown hair, but little other sign of her fifty-plus years.
At an intersection, she was joined by another woman, similarly dressed and around the same age, her piled-up greying hair still showing traces of its original yellow. Her wide eyes were apparently guileless as she smiled a greeting to Avalon, and fell into step alongside her.
"You've heard?"
"Yes," said Avalon. "Every cell, every post... Swept up, in the space of two hours, all across Proxima II... It's a disaster."
"It's a disaster, all right," said her attendant, a smile threatening to break out.
"Oh, dear," said Avalon, a similar smile appearing on her face. "How sad. Never mind."