Chapter Five
Cally held Avon in her arms as he recovered from another nightmare. She could still feel the continued stress of his body as his mind tried to banish the images and the sensations that seemed so real moments ago. It was happening with greater frequency now. This was the second time this week.
She was afraid for him and she felt helpless. He was fighting a battle that they were both afraid he would eventually lose. It was only a matter of time before the drugs failed completely.
The only thing Cally could do was to try to give him comfort and reassurance, to be there for him when he needed her. She wished that she could at least share the nightmares with him so that he wouldn't have to face them alone.
Through her connection to Avon, she was able to experience a small taste of what he had to endure. The feelings she picked up from him were the strongest when he was in the grip of the nightmares. It was as if he had no defense against them. She suspected it was another thing Servalan had done to him in order to prevent him from fighting her. Her hatred of this woman grew.
Sometimes, after Avon's nightmares, for a brief moment, there would be a naked vulnerability in his eyes before he regained control again; then he would see her and the pain and dark despair would slowly fade and be replaced by a fearful, hesitant hope. Sometimes he would almost be suicidal when he emerged from the dreams and she would have to talk to him until he calmed down and his normal character reasserted itself.
Though he never showed it, Cally knew that the fear of the nightmares still haunted him when he was awake. They were never far below the surface. Some days he was barely holding on; trying to be the Avon they all expected. He had asked her not to tell the others about his deteriorating condition and she had respected his need to act as if everything was fine. She knew that the burden of the others' pity would be too much for him to handle on top of everything else.
Avon's hoarse voice interrupted her thoughts. "Cally." His eyes were open now and he was looking at her. She could see the hope there as well as a soft affection and gratitude. It filled her with joy to see the love reflected in his eyes; she just wished it had been under better circumstances.
Cally hugged him tighter. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
Avon looked away from Cally's eyes but he tightened his arms around her. The warmth and softness of her body against his own helped to ease the tensions. "I wish I didn't feel anything." He realized how it sounded and said, "Except for what I feel for you."
Cally smiled softly at his sentiment but she was also full of concern. "It might be better if you don't, at least until we can do something about the nightmares. There are some drugs…"
Avon's serious eyes sought out hers. "No, Cally."
"But, Avon…"
Avon he touched his fingers to her lips and said, "I will not lose how I feel for you. I will not deny you that. No matter what happens."
Cally said, "I don't want you to suffer. Not for me."
The gravity in Avon's eyes reminded her of someone who had counted the remainder of his days and was determined not to miss any of them. With dismay, she realized that he had resigned himself to losing the fight. She said fervently, "You can't give up, Avon."
He said, "I'm not giving up, but I will not give you up. I used to push people away because I didn't want to feel. Allowing myself to experience the positive feelings meant leaving myself open to the negative ones. I was willing to deny one in order to avoid the others but I will not do that any longer, even if it means facing the nightmares with all of my feelings intact. You're too important to me, Cally."
"No, Avon. The important thing is that I know how you feel about me. This will just be temporary and you can feel them again after we find you help."
"What if we don't? We have to face the realities, Cally. And the reality is that there is no way to reverse what was done to me. My condition will continue to worsen. There is no reprieve. There is no cure. I do not want to waste this time we have together."
"I can't believe that there is nothing that will help you." She refused to believe it.
"The sentiment does not replace the reality." His words were the voice of reason even though his heart wanted to join her in the irrational belief.
"I don't care about the reality! The reality is wrong," she said emphatically and unreasonably.
Avon caressed her cheek gently and sought the more intimate communication of their minds. * Let me do this for you, Cally. I don't want your last memory of me to be of someone who succumbed to the madness but of someone who loved you enough to endure it. *
* That's your pride talking. How do you think it will make me feel to know that you were suffering because of me? *
* This was Servalan's doing, Cally. Not yours. She thought she gave me no choices except her own. Servalan wants me to suffer for her; to be in pain or to become the machine she tried to make me into. Either one would serve her purposes. She thinks she can continue to control my life, but she's wrong. I will make my own choice. I choose to suffer for you; not for her amusement. *
* No, Avon. Not for me. I'm not worth it. * She hugged him tighter, trying not to cry.
* You are to me. *
Cally reverted to spoken communication. "Avon, this isn't logical. It makes no sense for you to do this. Acting on sentiment when it hurts you is not rational."
A soft amused smile appeared on Avon's face. "You're using reason to convince me not to act on sentiment?"
Cally tried to grasp onto anything she could to convince him to help himself. "What happened to the man who said that sentiment is a weakness? It's against your own survival instinct. I want you to survive, Avon. You won't if you keep making decisions like this."
"I cannot survive without you." Avon recognized that she was acting on sentiment too. Cally was thinking of him, just as he was thinking of her.
"But you wouldn't be without me, Avon. This is just the temporary suspension of your body's reaction to having emotions. We do this in medicine for physical pain. We numb the area so you won't feel anything but it's not permanent."
"Life without feeling is an empty thing, Cally. You know this. It becomes little more than an intellectual exercise. You deserve more than that. Despite all of the things Servalan did to me, there is one thing I am grateful to her for. I learned that simply surviving is not enough. When I was alone in my cell at the detention centre, it wasn't my instinct for survival that gave me a reason to continue fighting; it was the knowledge that you were still alive. It meant a great deal to me. You mean a great deal to me."
When Cally looked into Avon's eyes, she was stunned by the raw honesty reflected there. More than anything else, it increased her desire for him to get better.
"Avon. Would you do this if I asked you to? Would you take the drugs?"
He replied, "You are asking me to do this because of sentiment?"
"You mean a great deal to me too, Avon. I refuse to see you suffer because of me."
Avon knew that Cally was not thinking clearly, that her own sentiment was clouding her judgement. It was one of the weaknesses of allowing emotions to get a hold of you. Avon wondered if it was possible to be emotionally logical, to have the feelings but to not lose the perspective. He hadn't seen it yet but he wondered if he could find a way to be both.
Avon could see the resolve of the warrior on Cally's face. She didn't want him to feel the horror of the nightmares. It was the only thing she could think of now.
Avon said, "I will do it for you."
**********
"Don't open your eyes yet," said Reya as she led a closed-eyed Argus to the cargo bay that had once served as a makeshift nursery.
"Where are you bringing me?" asked Argus as he held onto her arm. His sense of direction and position already told him that they were most likely headed towards one of the cargo bays.
"We're almost there." She activated the door panel and led him inside. "You can open your eyes now."
Argus opened his eyes and looked around him. As he suspected, it was the cargo bay. The baby paraphernalia had been cleared and there were various storage boxes and assorted items piled in different configurations. "Reya, this is not really a surprise. I've seen this cargo bay before." He teased her. "Did you clean it up? Now that would be a surprise."
Reya gave him a mock punch to the arm.
"Ow. That hurts."
"Good." On a crate next to her lay half a dozen pistols. She picked one up and brought it up towards him.
Argus held up his hand, "Now, now, Reya. I know that was a bad attempt at humour, but it wasn't that bad."
"You are very bad. You should take lessons from Vila," said Reya. She flipped the gun in her hand and extended it grip first to him.
Argus grinned and took it from her. He turned it over in his hands and saw that it was not a standard pistol. It wasn't one he was familiar with. "What's this for?"
Reya didn't answer him. Instead she went to a side control console and entered several commands. The lights in the cargo bay dimmed.
"Is this meant to be romantic?" asked Argus, hoping he hadn't missed any clues. The gun was puzzling.
Without warning a Federation trooper appeared from the menacing shadows behind one of the storage crates. "Reya! Watch out!" Argus shouted and simultaneously fired two bursts at the black-clad figure. The soldier fell from direct hits to the chest.
Reya said with approval, "Very good." She calmly entered another command into the panel in front of her and the soldier disappeared.
Argus asked with amazement, "It was a hologram?"
"It's not as sophisticated as the ones on Pleasure City but it will do for our purposes," said Reya. She had been working with Avon to set up this practice range as a surprise.
Argus looked at the pistol in his hand again and said with understanding. "This must be a modified laser pistol. Used for training purposes."
"Yes." She walked over to him. "I thought you might like it."
A big smile appeared on Argus's face. "I love it." He put his free arm around her. "This is romantic."
Reya rolled her eyes in mock disapproval. "The range will be useful to keep the crew sharp and to increase marksmanship. It can also be used for running training scenarios."
Argus said suggestively, "Of course. It's romantic and functional."
"You're hopeless." She smiled and picked up another training pistol. "How about a little romance?"
Argus grinned and lifted his. "I thought you would never ask."
**********
Jenna was getting impatient at the slow pace of her plans. Being stuck with Redden was proving to be a liability. The man was too adverse to risk; he refused to take on more lucrative cargo. Often Redden had them acting more as a couriering service for safer goods, ones that only resulted in a fine at best. Jenna wouldn't have called him a smuggler at all.
They were currently in the midst of another argument. One of many she had had with him since he'd taken her onboard.
Redden said tiredly, "Jen, I don't want to talk about this anymore. If you want to get rich quicker then maybe you're be better off with another crew. I've been doing this along time and I know what works for me. I know what I want and what you're proposing isn't it." Jenna had been using Jen Blade as an alias for the past few months.
"Maybe I should," said Jenna. She knew that Redden was a good man but he was not proving to be a useful enough one.
"You're very talented Jen. A natural. You have good instincts. You would be more successful with someone else." In a crew of old-timers, Jenna was out of place. She was driven and intelligent. At times Redden felt as if they were holding her back. "I'll speak to some of my contacts. See if there's another crew that's looking for people."
"Thank you. You're a good man, Redden. I am grateful that you took me on without any references," said Jenna. "Are any of your contacts willing to take on more lucrative cargo?"
Jenna had something in mind; it was something she wished she didn't. In the past, she would never have traded in Shadow but times were different now and Blake had taught her that some principles were worth sacrificing as long as your goals were just.
Killing Avon would be a great justice. Making him suffer first would be a personal justice. Jenna smiled in eager anticipation.
The predatory smile sent a shiver down Redden's spine. He was afraid to ask what she was smiling about; he hoped it wasn't anything to do with him.
**********
Servalan was frustrated that her plans were not working out for Avon. She had her assistant contact Senior Controller Tarvin again.
When Central Security Controller appeared on her vidscreen, Servalan immediately asked, "What is he doing? Why hasn't he tried to contact Avon again?"
Tarvin reported, "Our people did hit them fairly hard. Their communications equipment may have been damaged."
"I want him to contact Avon," said Servalan.
"I understand that, Madame President. But I don't know what you think what we can do about it if their equipment prevents them from doing what you want. It's not as if we can march up to them and give them replacement equipment."
"You are a Senior Controller, are you not? I expect a little more initiative from someone who works for Central Security." There was a veiled threat covered by a thin veneer of polite professionalism.
"Very well, Madame President," said Tarvin.
Servalan cut the communications channel abruptly. If Sester had been there, she was certain that he would have thought of a way. Sometimes she regretted tasking him to join the Justice. What she really needed was two of him. She wondered if she could get a temporary replacement while he was away.
**********
Sester sat alone in the dining area reading a news file and enjoying a quiet cup of tea and a light snack. It was one of the few times the room was empty.
Vila walked in, saw him and without saying anything walked over to the dispensers. He ordered a cup of tea and a few light sandwiches and then went to a table nearby.
The two of them sat in silence, each absorbed in what they were doing. Vila appeared to be studying diagrams of some type on a data pad but Sester couldn't make out what they were.
Both of them were naturally social and the quiet didn't last long. Sester remarked, "You're unusually quiet." His face was open and friendly.
Vila looked up from the diagrams and said guardedly, "So are you."
"Normally you're attempting to strike up a conversation or trying to see what I'm up to. Is it your day off today?" asked Sester with a light note of cynicism which contrasted with his genial manner.
"I have better things to do," said Vila dismissively as he returned his attentions to the diagrams.
"Well, I don't," said Sester. "There isn't much scope for someone of my talents on this ship."
"I don't know about that. I understand that you've been very busy with your talents," remarked Vila without looking up.
Sester gave him an unconcerned and pleasant smile. "You must be talking to Avon. Or Argus. Or both of them. They always think I'm up to something."
Vila looked up and said, "Maybe it's because you are."
Sester laughed. He was enjoying this exchange. "Did they send you to find out?"
Vila said, "They don't include me in their plans unless they need me to open a lock or break into something. And they never tell me anything unless they think I need to know it." There was just a hint of bitterness in his voice. Vila was very good at this kind of act, he had lived the reality of it most of his life.
Sester was very familiar with this attitude from the lower grades. They wore their resentment like a second skin. "Alpha snobbery making you feel left out?" asked Sester.
"You're no better than them. You're an Alpha too," said Vila.
"I'm even worse than that. Psychostrategists are a special kind of Alpha; we have equal disdain for everyone. No Grades are spared; not even the highest ones. We're very fair-minded."
"Then why are you talking to me?" asked Vila.
"There is one type of person we do have a regard for, people who can provide a challenge."
"I'm a challenge?" asked Vila in a perplexed tone.
"Not in the way that Avon is but yes, you're definitely a puzzle, Vila."
Avon was right, you can't resist someone you can't figure out. "Not sure I like the sound of that," said Vila uneasily.
"You should understand the desire to solve puzzles. Isn't that why you study those?" Sester pointed to the diagram of an intricate lock on Vila's data pad. "My puzzles are people and their interactions together. I like to understand them."
"You mean, you like to manipulate them," said Vila.
Sester grinned at the directness. "As a means to an end, yes. Similar to what you do with a lock. Only the venue is different."
"Well, when you put it like that, I suppose we do have something in common," said Vila.
Sester asked, "Do you play chess?"
It was the opening gambit to something that could prove to be more interesting.
Trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice, Vila replied, "I have been known to."
Chapter Six
Jenna and Redden were waiting at a table in a bustling bar on Caretan in Sector Seven. Redden had found someone who was willing to take a look at her as a possible replacement pilot. Redden brought his mug of beer his lips and took a drink as he studied her with interest. He asked, "Why are you in such a hurry, Jen?"
"I don't know what you mean," said Jenna guardedly as she also took a sip of her beer. For safety reasons, she had always avoided talking about herself. There was still a price on her head from the old days. Most people would find it too much of a temptation. Others would use it as leverage over her.
"I know that young people like to get ahead. You want to do things fast. Make your mark. But it's different with you. You're…driven. That's the only way I can describe it."
"It's none of your business," said Jenna. Her tone shut down any further questions.
"Yes, I know. I'm a nosy old smuggler. But, you see, even that's odd. You've been with us for weeks, but I still don't know anything about you. I know that you came without references. That means that you're in trouble with someone and you don't want anyone to know who you really are. I can appreciate that. Most of us are in trouble somewhere and none of us uses our real names; but you carry it to the extreme. You must have something very big to hide."
Jenna said, "Then it's a good thing that I'm leaving you. I'll become someone else's problem."
"What I'm afraid of is that you'll be your own biggest problem," said Redden.
"You know nothing about me," said Jenna defensively.
"Yes, I know." Redden looked sadly at this closed woman. "And from the looks of it, I never will. One thing I do know is that I like you, and I don't want to see you waste your life doing something that will get you caught or killed."
Jenna could see that he meant her no harm. If things had been different, she may have been content staying with Redden's group. She had been like him at one time but he was right, something more important was driving her. Her manner softened a bit. "Thanks for your concern but you don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself."
Redden guessed that there was nothing he could say that would change her mind. "Yes, I know that too. You're a capable and tough woman, Jen. I wish you well wherever you end up."
Even though he didn't say it, Jenna could imagine his unspoken words; I hope that doesn't include being deported to a penal colony or dead. She said, "Maybe I'll come back after I do what I need to do."
"I'll have a berth waiting for you," said Redden.
They both knew that she wouldn't be coming back.
**********
Servalan scrolled unseeingly through the day's action reports. Only the titles jumped out at her; she was too preoccupied to retain any details.
Sector Ten, Alien Incursion Report
Terra Nostra, Scope and Influence Report
Report 8268.995
Space Command, Fleet Rebuild Report
Servalan's mind was thinking about Avon, which was nothing new. She was also thinking about Cally. Servalan stabbed the button in front of her viciously. Cally. I should have killed you when I had the chance. I should never have let Avon have you back. She controlled herself. No matter. I will fix this error. Once Avon finds out what I want him to know, he will no longer have any thoughts about you.
She needed to coordinate with Sester in order for this to work effectively. Servalan knew that stationing him aboard the Justice might hamper his efforts in making regular contact but he had his ship. Where are you, Sester? What are you doing? Why have you not contacted me yet?
Argus should be contacting her soon as well. She was going to push him a bit for being so inconsistent in his communications with her. She was also going to use him to position the ship closer to the planet where she was going to apply pressure on Avon. Servalan smiled in delicious anticipation; like a snake looking forward to its next morsel.
Servalan scrolled back the screen.
Terra Nostra, Scope and Influence Report
She had great interest in this one. Their influence had been growing but there were certain sectors of her government that seemed to be blocking her efforts to move against this criminal organization. She wanted to know why.
**********
Ellis and his alien supporters were decidedly on the defensive now. After weeks of furious battles, the enemy had been pushed back to Ellis's territory, which was shrinking by the hour. The Justice and her crew had helped in several of the major battles. Her firepower and speed was greater than anything that either side possessed.
**********
Avon sat on a couch on the flight deck while conversing with Argus. There was a lull between offensives and the ship's crew was enjoying a few days of rest.
"What do you plan to do after the war in this Sector is over?" asked Avon.
Argus grimaced with distaste at what he knew they needed to do and replied from his flight station, "We'll have to contact Servalan. I don't like it but the Federation is the only one with the resources to identify potential alien threats."
"A necessary evil," said Avon.
"Sometimes it's hard to tell which one is worse," said Argus.
"Both will be disposed of in time," said Avon with cold grimness.
"Do you want to be the one to talk with her?" asked Argus. He knew that Avon needed to confront her, to prove to himself that he could still handle her.
"I will leave that particular pleasure, to you," said Avon.
"Are you sure?" asked Argus with surprise.
"Yes."
Argus wanted to ask him more but Avon's tone did not invite further explorations. This can't be a good sign. This man was a constant challenge, not unlike Reya. Argus liked challenges.
Argus decided on the direct approach. "Tell me what's wrong."
Avon's eyes narrowed and his face became hard.
Argus said, "Come on, Avon. You said that you don't want me to keep things from you. Well, it only works if it's done both ways. I need you to tell me what's going on with you. If you feel it's a strictly personal issue then tell me to mind my own business and I will accept that. But anything that impacts your ability to handle Servalan, concerns us all. You have to tell me if you can't."
Even though he didn't want to, Avon recognized the truth of what Argus was saying. He said, "Alright."
The level of vulnerability he had been exhibiting with Cally was disconcerting and still felt uncomfortable, but it was a choice he had made. To do this with someone else, was something he had neither considered nor intended to do. Avon was still an intensely private man but he knew that he had to tell Argus something. He had made a commitment to this man. They had agreed to work together and not keep things from each other, but most of all; Argus had been open with him when he admitted what he had done during the civilian massacre on Zirgon.
Avon said, "I don't know if I can face Servalan right now. She knows too many of my weaknesses, she gave me some of them. If she tries to manipulate me using them, I'm not sure if I won't fall into her traps."
"You were able to handle her before," said Argus. He came down from his flight station and sat down opposite Avon.
Avon's jaw tightened in stress. He would have to reveal more than he wanted to. "I've been having nightmares."
"Those nightmares?" asked Argus with immediate concern.
"Worse." As Avon said this, his body became tense; the memories of the nightmares were never far away. They were starting to trigger an involuntary panic reaction. Avon used one of the breathing exercises Cally had taught him in order to release the stress. The last thing he wanted was for her to come running because she could sense his suddenly increased stress level.
Argus saw what was happening and decided to keep talking. He didn't want to disturb Avon and he wanted to give him a calm atmosphere so that he could recover.
He thought, You should have told me, Avon. In many ways, he could understand why Avon had not wanted to. Argus was like that himself. He hated having people see his weaknesses too.
Argus said, "I'm going to start the crew on a training program to upgrade their skills and increase our team coordination. We have the Athol soldiers now. That gives us increased abilities. And with the special abilities of the rest of the crew, we can do things that most people can't. Not even one of my old commando units has the kind of abilities that this group has." Argus was excited about the possibilities of this team. Bright energy seemed to radiate from him as he talked and his voice was full of enthusiasm. "With you, Vila, Cally and Reya…"
Avon was controlled and relaxed now. He had been aware of the calm drone of Argus's voice during his breathing exercise; it had helped him. As Argus began talking about the crew, Avon could see his excitement and joy. There was a simplicity and directness to him that he envied.
Avon said, "You can stop your plans of galactic domination, I'm fine now."
There was an almost embarrassed grin on Argus's face. "I can be a little enthusiastic." He turned serious, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"About your plans to dominate the universe? Not particularly," said Avon.
Argus nodded, "You don't want to talk about it."
"Not particularly." Avon hesitated and then said, "It's true that I would prefer not to but the reality is that I can't. You saw what happened. I can't think about it without having difficulties."
"I didn't realize it was that bad. What happened to the drugs? Aren't they working?"
Avon's stress level rose sharply again, his breathing increased with the tension. Admitting his true condition was something he had wanted to avoid but Argus had asked a direct question.
Avon answered, "Their effectiveness has decreased. Servalan warned me that this would happen."
"That damned woman!" Argus felt angry and guilty. He hated keeping his agreement with Servalan a secret from Avon. The more he understood about this woman and what she was still able to do to Avon, it made him ill that he had agreed to work with her. He felt as if his hands were tied. "Is there something we can do? We have to find you some help. Maybe different drugs?" Argus had a disturbing thought. "Avon. You're not going to like this but…"
When Argus didn't continue, Avon asked, "You have an idea?"
Argus said, "You're really not going to like it but I have to say it. The only people who understand what was done to you or have the ability to…"
Avon saw where he was going and cut him off, "No. I won't go back to Servalan! I would die first."
"I don't want to lose you, Avon."
"Are you going to try to force me?" asked Avon.
Argus sighed. With Avon, trust was an ongoing process. He seemed to need constant reassurance. "No. I would never do that to you, Avon. I promise you that. But I do want to find you some help."
Avon's automatic reaction was to say that he didn't need help; his pride demanded it. He hated the feeling of helplessness; it was already difficult enough with Cally. With her, he had to fight his own natural instincts.
Before Avon could decided what he was going to say, Argus said, "And please don't say that you don't need my help because we both know that you do."
They both stared at each other in challenge and then Avon nodded. "Very well. I won't say it."
"Good. Has Cally said anything?" asked Argus.
"She's exploring various possibilities," said Avon.
"Hopefully she can find something."
When Avon gave no response, Argus said, "You don't think she will, do you?"
"No." Avon's jaw tightened in stress again as he fought the feeling of hopelessness that was starting to descended over him.
"How can you be so sure, Avon? You have to give Cally a chance. Maybe we should contact Healer Garett. He has more knowledge in this area."
"I have talked to Garett. That's why I know that there is no cure."
Argus sat up. This was something Avon had never mentioned. "What did he say?"
"I asked him about the drugs that were found in my system after you rescued me. Most of them have no pharmacological record in the Federation database. That means they were classified under the highest security levels. Officially they don't exist."
"Central Security?" asked Argus with disgust.
"It has to be," said Avon.
"But they're still just drugs. There must be a way to way to counter them." The more Argus heard, the angrier he got. It was the cold anger he had when he became dangerous.
Avon said, "From what Garett could discover, some of them were tailored to work to my specific body chemistry. The degree of sophistication was beyond anything he had ever seen before. He called it chemical surgery."
"Surgery? That doesn't sound good."
Avon forced himself to remain detached and only focused on the facts. "They appear to have overridden some of my body's natural production of specific chemicals and hormones in order to substitute them with their modified versions. He suspects that my capacity to generate these chemicals naturally has been destroyed beyond my body's ability to heal itself. I can no longer function without the substitutes."
Argus said unhappily, "They tried to control everything."
"Servalan did." Avon's voice was full of controlled anger and there was dark fire in his eyes.
Argus asked, "Even if your body can't produce them anymore, can't we replace them with normal ones?"
Avon said, "It's not that simple. Garett suspects that my body has become dependent on the ones they gave me."
Argus tried to understand. "You mean it's like an addiction?"
"Addiction is too mild a word for what will happen if they are removed."
Argus was horrified to hear this but he knew that the last thing Avon wanted was pity. Opening up was already hard enough for him. "Does Garett know that the drugs are becoming less effective?"
"We haven't had an opportunity to tell him," replied Avon.
"It sounds like we need to find the opportunity," said Argus, glad that there was something he could do to help.
Vila came down the flight deck steps to join them. He sat down near Avon.
Avon remarked, "You look very pleased with yourself."
Vila responded, "He took the bait."
"Ah." Avon turned to the visual display unit, "Zen, locate Sester."
Zen responded, "Sester is located in his cabin."
Avon directed, "Good. Tell me the moment he leaves it."
Zen acknowledged the order, "Confirmed."
Argus asked, "He didn't suspect anything?"
Vila said with a grin, "He suspects all kinds of things. He just doesn't know anything."
Argus was confused. "I thought the idea was to get him to start trusting you?"
Avon explained, "We need him to suspect and to keep suspecting. It's the only way to get him to trust."
Argus was even more confused, the explanation didn't make things any clearer for him. He looked between Avon and Vila. "Alright. I know I'm no genius with people but that doesn't make any sense to me."
"It will when it works," said Avon. "A man like Sester has to find his own reasons to trust people. We cannot give them to him. Or rather, we cannot appear to give him any."
"It sounds like a big gamble," said Argus. "What if he doesn't?"
"Oh, he will," said Avon. A confident, almost smug smile touched his lips.
Vila said, "It's a big game. Don't you see? He loves things he can't figure out right away. It's going to drive him crazy."
Argus still wasn't sure he understood but he trusted Avon and Vila. "Alright. Just be careful."
Vila said, "Careful is my middle name."
Avon asked him, "Are you ready for the next phase?"
There was an unhappy look on Vila's face. "I'm ready. I don't like it, but I'm ready."
"It's necessary, Vila," stressed Avon.
"I know. I know. It's just that...it'll feel like we're going backwards," said Vila.
"Don't let sentiment interfere with what we need to do," said Avon.
"That's easy for you to say," said Vila.
**********
Sester was sitting in his cabin, his fingers idly touching the chess pieces on the table. He was deep in thought. The game with Vila had been entertaining. Sester had won, of course but he had been surprised at the level of Vila's game. It was higher than he had expected. Vila's mind was clearly not a Delta-grade one. The lack of advanced formal education was evident in his undisciplined play but he also exhibited surprising intelligence and sharp instincts.
One of Vila's greatest weaknesses was the inability to see deeper into the game. Not many could. For people like Avon and Sester, it was a gift they were born with. It was also an ability that could be taught. Sester wondered what kind of player Vila would be if he could see more than just a few moves ahead.
Sester was aware that Vila was most likely playing another more serious game, one that probably involved the other two, Avon and Argus. He smiled. It was not the easy and warm smile he normally wore. It was the expression of a man relishing the first moves in a battle.
His mind automatically turned to another pleasant thought. He wondered what Reya was doing. Sester couldn't help himself. Even though he had resolved to stay away from her as much as possible, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Reya's effect on him was too potent; he found himself thinking and feeling things that interfered with his ability to be dispassionate and objective.
He knew that Reya hated her ability to influence him. She had been troubled by the request she had made of him, to keep the secret of the children and the Auronar from Servalan and the Federation. She felt guilty even though he had done it willingly. The more he associated with her, the more Sester couldn't let her go.
Sester sighed. He wished that she felt the same for him, even just a little. The greater likelihood was that she would breathe a sigh of relief when he was gone.
He smiled wryly. There was one woman whom he knew would like to know his every movement. He knew he should contact her soon. The Federation President would be getting very anxious to know what he had been up to and why he hadn't contacted her in so long.