|
"Don't move," ordered the voice behind him. Avon's hands came up very slowly as a gun jabbed him hard in the back. "Turn around and don't try anything funny either."
"I have no intention of...." Avon's voice trailed off as he turned and saw his captor. The computer expert came very close to not recognizing him. The man's clothing was torn and badly mended in several areas and there were several terrible burn scars on the side of his face, but there could be no mistake.
"What are you staring at?" the man accused, his weapon gripped tightly in his hand.
*Avon, keep him busy. I will work my way behind him,* Cally's silent voice called.
"You remind me of someone, that's all," Avon replied, studying him. "Someone who has been missing for the last two months."
"Whoever it was, is probably dead then," the man replied in a flat tone. "I've been here at least that long. Damn near didn't make it myself."
At that moment, Cally jumped him from behind, grabbing the arm holding the gun. The man twisted around and she caught sight of his face and gasped. "Vila!"
Avon saw his chance and did not hesitate. He brought his hand down hard against the side of the other man's neck. Vila crumbled unconscious to the ground.
Cally knelt down to examine him and sighed. "I do not understand. He did not seem to recognize either of us. Why?"
Avon slowly turned Vila's face and exposed the scars. "I should imagine that's why. Incendiary from the look of it and he was very close to it when it landed."
"A type of shell shock then?" Cally queried.
"Quite possibly," Avon murmured in reply, looking around at the primitive surroundings. "And living like this certainly did not help. Let's get him back to the ship."
#
"Patient has suffered severe stress and traumatic shock. Third-degree burns on upper portion of the body and face," announced the med computer as Cally cut away the dirty clothing to expose the burn areas.
"I wonder he is alive at all from the look of these," she commented in a worried tone. Vila's chest was a patchwork of scar tissue as was his back, arms and hands.
"Anywhere else and he wouldn't have been," Avon replied, gazing at him. "Beljyr's atmosphere will not support bacterial life of any form. It's a sterile environment."
"Which accounts for there being no infection," Cally surmised. She had run into something within the remnants of Vila's jacket which refused to be cut. She laid the scissors aside to examine the problem. "I always wondered where he kept that hidden," she murmured softly.
"Kept what?" Avon inquired, then smiled as Cally removed from a well-hidden inside pocket a very familiar object--Vila's lockpicking kit. The Auron handed it to him and Avon opened it and examined its contents thoughtfully. "He never goes anywhere without it, it seems," he said aloud. Avon glanced at Vila again, closed the kit and placed it next to the med computer.
Cally nodded, picked up the scissors and finished removing the jacket. "He is lucky." She ran her finger lightly across one of the burns. "The scarring is still soft," she explained and with a surgical instrument, began carefully peeling away the damaged layers of skin.
Twenty minutes later, satisfied that no more of the burned tissue remained, she moved the epidermal regenerator across the ragged wounds. In its wake, there was no evidence of damage, only a slight redness to the area. "When he comes around," Cally murmured in a satisfied tone, "there should be no discomfort, except perhaps for a stiff neck."
Avon looked at her, frowning. "What would you have preferred, Cally? He didn't remember us. As far as he was concerned, we might well have been enemies. We were fortunate he did not shoot first."
"I know, Avon," Cally conceded. "When I saw who it was, I could not believe it, either." She smiled at the unconscious form between them. "And you were surprised as much as I."
"True," he admitted, remembering a very different Vila who had complained bitterly over the mission which had taken them to Beljyr.
#
"But why does it have to be me?" Vila exclaimed in a trembling voice.
"Because the contact said he knew you, Vila," Avon answered impatiently. "And that he would meet with you and you alone."
"But it could be a trap," Vila shot back.
"Of course, it could be a trap," Cally conceded. "But if it's not, Vila, we could lose our one chance at organizing this quadrant's resistance."
Tarrant and Dayna said nothing but merely watched. They knew Vila would end up going. So did he, but he could not leave without at least putting up some type of argument.
"All right. All right," Vila sighed in defeat. "Where am I supposed to meet with him?"
"The coordinates have already been computed and Orac has them locked into the teleport," Avon told him.
"Very sure of yourselves, weren't you?" Vila snapped.
"Vila," Cally murmured softly, putting an arm about his shoulders. "You know Avon would not expose you to any situation if he did not think it was safe."
"Wanna bet?" Vila ventured. Then he shrugged. "All right, let's get this over with."
#
Vila had teleported down without any apparent problems, his contact leading him to a heavily forested area.
"Vila," a bear-sized man exclaimed, "it has been long since I saw you."
Vila didn't get the chance to reply as he was embraced in a hug which might have shattered Gan. Finally, he pushed his way free and panted. "Rubin...you...you nearly broke my ribs." Then he smiled. "You look well and prosperous." His eyes touched the dwellings well-hidden in the trees.
"Oh, we do all right," the big man replied thoughtfully. "But I didn't bring you here just to show that. Come on, we have matters to discuss."
With his arm around Vila, Rubin guided him into the largest of the structures and introduced him to several other men who were waiting for him. Never the one to push caution too far from his thoughts, Vila gingerly activated his bracelet communicator.
#
On board the Liberator, the conversation came through quite well and Tarrant could not suppress a laugh. "I don't think Vila trusts his old friend."
Avon nodded in agreement, though he was secretly pleased by Vila's action. "Or maybe he does not share your belief that the Federation have no bases in this area."
Tarrant's angry retort was drowned out as Vila's voice suddenly took on a fearful note. "Wait a minute. What's that?" There was the sound of gunfire and larger explosions in the background.
"Cally," Avon shouted, activating his console's communicator, "teleport Vila up now!"
But Cally was already ahead of him. At the first sound of fear in Vila's voice, she had activated the controls. But nothing happened. She checked the coordinates and tried again, then called Avon. "Something's wrong. The controls are not responding properly. I can't bring him up."
Vila's voice cried piteously over the communicator. "Avon! Cally! Get me up. Please bring me up. There's Federation troops everywhere. They're shelling the compound. Please bring me...." There was a loud explosion, then static and silence.
Avon's hand flew to the comm button. "Vila? Vila!" No reply. He turned to the others. "Tarrant, check the scanners. Find out where those non-existent Federation ships are. Dayna, monitor communications. If he's been captured, I want to know. I'm going to check the teleport."
The flight deck came alive as each crewmember did as ordered. As Avon left the flight deck, he heard Dayna say to Tarrant, "Those explosions sounded like Fluman missiles. I remember my father saying they could wipe an area so clean, no one would ever know anything ever existed there." And Avon was running for the teleport.
#
"Cally, have you found what the problem is yet?" Avon asked as he arrived, keeping both his voice level and his face impassive.
"No," she responded in a worried tone. "Everything reads normal. The signal was coming through clearly, and his transmission. But when I tried to bring him up, nothing happened."
"It must be a malfunction in one of the correlation relays then."
"Avon, I've already gone over everything. It has to be something down there affecting it," Cally explained.
Dayna's voice called from the comm. "Avon, I've picked up a transmission from the surface. Here, I'll patch it through."
A few seconds went by, then a male voice said, "All remnants of the rebel activity in this sector have been eliminated, sir. There are no life signs within a mile square area." The transmission dissolved into static.
Then Tarrant came on. "Avon, they've picked us up on their scanners. We have to get out of here."
"But what about Vila?" Dayna's voice echoed. "We can't just leave him down there."
"You heard them, Dayna, everyone is dead. There's nothing we can do. We have to get out of here," Tarrant told her. "Avon? Avon!"
Cally gazed at her companion, reading the pain which briefly flickered in his eyes before he concealed it. "How many Federation vessels are there?" Avon asked Tarrant.
"Scanners indicate at least eight. And they're moving into attack formation. Avon, Vila is dead. Accept it."
"I don't need you to tell me that, Tarrant," Avon snapped angrily. "Take us out of orbit." His hand slammed down hard on the communicator, breaking the connection. Then he looked at Cally. "We cannot stay, Cally."
"I know," she answered, her voice gentle and full of understanding. "I know."
#
And they had left, barely escaping with a barrage of plasma bolts damaging several of their energy banks. Dayna had called it luck, Tarrant claimed it was his skill. In any words, it had been too close.
But something kept nagging at Avon, telling him that he had to go back, he had to be certain that Vila was dead. It was stupid, of course. Sentiment could kill a man if he allowed it to, but Avon could not shake the feeling. So they had returned two months later and found Vila alive but not the same.
Who could be, after the carnage Avon and Cally saw? The wooded area where Rubin's village had been was now nothing more than a blackened, twisted hole some three-quarters of a mile wide. How Vila had escaped from that defied Avon's power of reason, but escape he had, though not unscathed. The burns testified to that.
Cally was scouting the area looking for any signs of life when Avon found the footprint. The mark was not left by a Federation boot, but the thought did not reassure Avon as he surveyed the harsh surroundings. There was no way Vila could have survived here, he thought, activating his wrist communicator, no way at all.
It took Cally only a couple of minutes to rejoin him once he notified her of the find. Her eyes were darker than usual as she returned. She had hoped against all hope that Vila might have somehow escaped the massacre but her search had yielded nothing.
Avon showed her the footprint. "We'll follow this for a while and see where it leads," he advised, and Cally was quick to agree.
Whoever lived in the cave had disguised it well. Avon walked right past it and it was only luck that Cally spotted the small indentation behind the heavy growth. The plant life had been carefully cultivated to grow in and around the lightweight door panel, concealing it perfectly.
"Cally, stay out here and keep watch. I'll take a look inside," Avon murmured. She nodded and moved away.
Pushing the crude door open cautiously, the computer expert slipped inside. The cave was naturally lighted by a small opening in the ceiling. The air was musty from a small fire which burned near the wall, but otherwise the cave was clean and well-kept. It was while Avon was trying to find some evidence of the identity of its occupant that Vila had slipped past Cally and into the cave.
#
The figure on the couch stirred and opened his eyes. First pain, then anger filled them as he looked around. He saw Avon and Cally. "What do you want with me?" Vila exclaimed.
Avon paused before answering. Vila's voice sounded deeper and carried no hint of fear, only anger. At them and at himself for being caught. //Much as I would feel,// Avon mused. "As I told you down on the planet, I was looking for someone."
"But there is no one left except me," Vila muttered. Then he looked closer at Cally. "You are not human, are you?"
Cally looked startled. "No, I am not. I am from Auron."
Avon's eyes never left the other man's face. "How did you know she was an alien?"
Vila's face grew puzzled. "I...I don't know. I just knew." Then the wary look was back in his eyes. "What were you looking for in my cave?"
Avon sighed. "Evidence. Evidence that a missing member of my crew might still be alive."
"Then your search was for nothing. No one survived the attack except me. And I'm not your missing crewman."
Avon's eyes narrowed as he looked at Vila. "And just who are you?"
"My name is Restal," came the cool reply and the man's eyes never wavered as he stared defiantly back at Avon.
Avon exchanged looks with Cally before going on. "Well, Restal, until I decide otherwise, you will remain on board as my 'guest'."
"You've no right to hold me like this," he shouted angrily, struggling against the restraints. "No right at all."
"You are in no position to argue," Avon said sharply. "Cally, he is to remain under restraints and if necessary, sedate him, is that understood?"
*Are you sure that is wise?* she asked even as she nodded acknowledgement.
Drawing her out of earshot, he whispered, "Yes, I'm sure. Orac has been monitoring the conversation as well as Vila's reactions."
//Trust Avon to think of all the angles,// Cally thought. "But he could easily get loose. Those restraints were not meant to hold someone with Vila's talent."
Avon glanced across at the man before replying. "I don't think that man knows anything about locks, Cally. He said his name was Restal. But he's not the same man you and I know." Avon did not add how much he wished it were.
#
Restal glared at Avon as he left and tried once again to break free from the restraints which held him firmly to the couch. A hand gently touched his forehead and he jerked away.
"Why won't you let me go?" Restal snapped, his eyes flashing.
Cally looked at him in mild surprise. "Where would you go? Back to that dead world?"
He stopped struggling and shrugged. "Anywhere away from here."
"Perhaps Avon can arrange that," she responded.
Restal eyed her for a moment, then said, "What does your mate want with me?"
"My what?" Cally was clearly startled by the question. "Avon is not my mate."
The man gazed at her with a strange look in his eyes and said, "Then he is a fool."
#
On the flight deck, Tarrant, who had been listening to the conversation said, "Well, Orac, what do you make of it?"
"Make of it? I do not 'make' anything of it. Why do you insist on using such ridiculous terms?" snapped the computer peevishly.
"He means what is your assessment of Vila's condition?" Avon corrected, walking down the steps.
"Then why did he not say that in the first place?"
"Tarrant's vernacular may be somewhat limited," Avon said. "But mine is not. What is wrong with Vila?"
Orac sniffed. "From the data accumulated, it would be my opinion that the person in question is suffering from a severe shock induced by both external and mental stress."
"Meaning?" Avon demanded.
"I should think it obvious. Under the extreme pressure, an extreme form of schizophrenia developed."
"What!" Dayna exclaimed.
"In layman's terms, his conscious self retreated within, allowing his subconscious or ID as it was once referred to by primitive psychotherapists to emerge," Orac continued. "This entity was capable of dealing with the demands for survival and took complete charge."
"But what about Vila?" Tarrant asked in a wondering voice.
"Unknown. The new entity, or Restal as he prefers to be called, seems deeply rooted."
"But not too deeply," Avon countered. "He remembered, or to put it better, Vila remembered that Cally was not human."
"That is true," Orac agreed. "Complete submergence of the conscious self may not yet be achieved. But the longer he remains without treatment, the more difficult resurgence of the original identity will be."
Avon activated the console's communicator. "Cally?"
"Yes, Avon?" came her voice.
"Is Restal awake?"
"No," she replied. "I gave him a sedative and he's sleeping." Curiosity entered her voice. "Why do you ask?"
"I'll explain in a few minutes," Avon answered and closed down the communicator. "All right, Orac," he muttered, picking the computer up, "let's see if you can accomplish what the leading psychotherapists in the Federation have failed to do."
"That seems hardly a challenge. After all, my intelligence level is much hi-" Avon jerked the key from its housing and walked silently from the flight deck. Tarrant and Dayna stared after him in wonder.
"And what are we supposed to do?" Tarrant asked, bewildered.
"What we always do," Dayna shot back. "Keep a look out for Federation ships and stay out of Avon's way."
Tarrant looked at her and grinned. "Right you are, Dayna. Zen, any ships within our scanners' range?"
+Negative,+ answered the ship's computer.
"Let's hope it stays that way," Dayna muttered to herself. "I've a feeling that we'll need all the luck we can get this time."
#
In the medical unit, Avon assisted Cally in connecting the various sensor links to Vila, then drew up a chair and sat down next to the couch.
"Everything is set, Avon," Cally murmured, taking her place by the monitor. Orac had requested that there be constant monitoring of the life signs.
"It is possible that if Restal is too deeply implanted, he may decide to eliminate the threat of Vila altogether by simply willing himself to die," explained the computer. "Such things have been recorded in some extreme cases."
The anxiety was visible in Avon's eyes as he looked at the sleeping thief. There was no sign of the burn scars now and to all outward appearances, Vila was himself. Avon silently hoped that after Orac's treatment, he would indeed be himself and not the other man, a man who seemed every bit as cold and calculating as he was himself.
"You may proceed, Orac," Avon announced after nodding to Cally.
"Very well. Subject is in deep sedated sleep as per instructions?" the computer queried.
"Yes," Cally responded automatically, her eyes locked on the sensitive equipment.
"Stimulation is necessary of the Beta wave area," Orac began. "Now."
Vila's body went rigid, his face suddenly contorted with pain. His hands clenching and unclenching in rapid succession, while he seemed to gasp for breath.
"Pulse rate up to 130," Cally reported. "Respiration dropping."
"All treatment is to cease immediately," exclaimed Orac in a startled voice.
"What is it?" Avon demanded, jumping to his feet.
"Fascinating," the computer continued after a short pause. "The Restal entity seemed completely aware of our actions. Something it should be incapable of knowing while in this state. This will require further study."
"How much further study?" Avon queried apprehensively.
"Unknown at this time," the computer replied.
"Is there nothing more we can do?" Cally asked, concern and fear coloring her voice.
"No," Avon admitted. "One thing, Cally," he cautioned. "He's to be kept restrained at all times. No matter how much he may pretend to be Vila, do not let him loose." He gazed at the sleeping form and shook his head. "Until we know what we're dealing with here, I don't want to take any chances."
"I remember Gan," Cally responded grimly. "I will not forget."
"Good. I'll be in my cabin," he replied and left the room.
#
"Cally?" The Auron turned and regarded the figure on the couch. "Cally?"
"Yes, Vila, what is it?" she asked, moving to his side.
"Why am I strapped down?" he asked timidly.
For a moment, the sound of Vila's frightened voice brought her hope but as she stared into his eyes, it was not Vila but Restal who looked back at her. *You know why, Restal. You cannot fool me.*
At once, Vila swore bitterly and struggled against the restraints. Cally smiled and moved to the intercom. "Avon, he's come round."
"I'll be right down," came the response and a short time later, Avon entered.
"Still angry, I see," Avon commented wryly, seeing the hate in Restal's eyes. It hurt him to see Vila treated this way but he also knew this was not Vila but someone else, someone who was trying to take him over as surely as Cally had once nearly been. Well, he'd beaten her and he would beat this one, too.
"What do you hope to accomplish, Avon?" Restal shouted.
"So you know me now," Avon remarked, studying the other man.
"Oh, yes. I know you," came the bitter reply. "And I ask again, what do you hope to accomplish?"
"Accomplish?" Avon queried, raising an eyebrow. "Why, the return of Vila, of course. You are neither needed nor wanted on board the Liberator. Vila, however, is."
Cally looked at Avon and smiled. That would probably be the closest thing to admitting he liked Vila that anyone would ever hear.
"Why? To be your pawn? Your private jester to be bullied and shoved around until you or Tarrant get him killed?" Restal shot back and smiled as he read the impact of his words in Avon's eyes.
"That's right, isn't it? You're using him just as Blake did but Blake cared for him. You don't. You don't care for anyone or anything, Avon. If you did, you would not have left Vila there...alone." His voice faltered. "Alone and hurt." The anger faded from his eyes and a frightened look came into them.
Cally saw the fear. "Vila?" she said softly. "Vila, the transmissions we intercepted claimed everyone was dead. Everyone. Then we were attacked. We had to run. Do you understand? We had to leave."
Recognition was there for a split second, then it disappeared and the wariness was back. "Why didn't you come back sooner?" Restal demanded.
Avon answered in a calm, steady voice. "Several of our energy banks were badly damaged. It took time to repair them. If you know anything, you know they require careful handling."
"The auto repairs could have repaired them within 10 hours, Avon," Restal snapped back. "And you know it."
Avon was surprised though he did not show it. The man had a sharp mind, very sharp indeed. "But the auto repair system was also damaged," he countered. "By the time full repairs were completed, the planet was under Federation surveillance. We had to wait until they left."
"That explanation might fool Vila." Restal spoke the other man's name with contempt. "But it does not fool me."
"Restal," Cally murmured, drawing his attention, "how did you escape?" Aside to her companion, she telepathed, *Avon, do not make him angry. Anger will not help us or Vila.*
Vila's face drew a blank at this sudden change of tactics. "I was...trying...trying to contact the ship, when a blast hit right next to me, blew me through an open door and down some steps into some kind of root cellar. When I came to, the ceiling was on fire." His eyes reflected shock, then fear and terror. Plainly, this was Vila and not Restal speaking.
"Some of the pieces fell on top of me, set my clothes on fire. I tried...tried to put the flames out...rolled around but it only set the floor burning. Then the ceiling collapsed. I covered my face with my arms. The next thing I remember was running...running towards some water...a pond or lake. I just jumped in, anything to put out the fire."
"And then?" Avon prompted.
"I'm tired," came Restal's voice. "I want to sleep." The brief contact with Vila was gone.
"Cally," Avon instructed. She nodded and prepared a tranquilizer which she injected into Vila. They watched as Restal's eyes clouded over and finally slid shut. Then Avon said, "Orac, have you come up with anything?"
"Not as yet, but the aspects of this case are most promising."
"Promising?" Cally asked in surprise. "In what way?"
"Vila's period of emergence. Restal may not be as deeply seated as previously thought. When it was Vila speaking, describing the events on Beljyr, certain emotions seemed to break through Restal's hold. The pain, his realization of being left alone seemed to shatter the entity's hold on his mind."
"Recommendations?" Avon asked.
"At present, I have none. Further study must be made. But I strongly suggest that all necessary precautions be taken in view of Restal's evident animosity towards ship's personnel."
"I am touched by your concern," Avon answered sarcastically.
"We cannot keep him drugged and under restraint for the rest of his life," Cally said.
"I don't intend to," came Avon's reply. "Orac, you have constantly harped on your superior intellect, well use it. I want a solution found to Vila's problem and I want it quickly."
To everyone's amazement, Orac made no argument, but merely answered, "I will study the problem."
#
Dayna was looking at some slides when Vila came round again. Feeling someone's eyes on her, she glanced over and smiled. "Feeling better?"
"Should I be?" Restal snapped.
"You're lucky to be alive."
"Am I?" He glared at her. "And what has your fearless leader planned for me today, hmmm? A little try at electro-shock, perhaps? No? More drugs? Or maybe he's just decided to let you have at me then?"
Dayna tried to conceal the horror she felt. She'd been briefed by Avon and Cally on Vila's condition, but it had not prepared her for the man's acid remarks. She more than welcomed Tarrant's entry into the room a few minutes later.
"Awake, I see," Tarrant said matter-of-factly, then noticed Dayna's expression and wondered at it.
"I should have known that's what you'd say," Restal commented, turning his attention to Tarrant. "The Academy breeds men. What a laugh! Men with walnut-sized brains whose chief thrill comes from bullying the lower grades into doing their dirty work."
Tarrant's face turned scarlet. "I didn't force you to do anything, Vila...er, Restal. You went voluntarily."
"Oh sure. Volunteered I did. What was it you said, I either did it or you'd toss me off the ship, wasn't it? Not your exact words, of course, but we Delta grades receive such a menial education. Not at all like the Alphas who get anything money can buy."
The bitterness behind the words was unbelievable and Tarrant found himself sorely wishing the other man was not tied down. One good punch would wipe that look off his face.
Dayna must have sensed Tarrant's mood for she laid a hand on his arm as much to warn as to comfort him. "You'd better let Cally and Avon know he's come to."
"By all means, by all means," Restal responded, laughing maniacally. "What's there to fear anyway? Surely you aren't afraid of me?"
The laughter grated on both Tarrant's and Dayna's nerves as he moved to the intercom and switched it on. "Avon. Cally. He's awake."
"Very well," came Avon's response. "Tarrant, I need you to take over up here. Zen is running some evasive patterns through the battle computers and I would like you to see them."
"On my way," Tarrant responded thankfully. He didn't want to stay in the medical unit any longer than necessary.
Dayna glared at the man on the couch. "Why did you say those things to him, Vila? Or Restal or whatever your name is? You know how much he has regretted what happened on Keezarn. He didn't know that Bayban was there. It wasn't his fault that...."
"That what, Dayna?" Restal demanded. "That I nearly got killed? That I missed a chance at being free for the first time in my life? Or that I lost someone who wanted me for who I was and not just for what I could do?" He threw her a disgusted look. "Don't waste your breath, Dayna."
"Don't worry, she won't," came a new voice and Restal looked up to see Avon and Cally standing in the doorway. The computer expert glanced at Dayna and saw the unshed tears in her eyes. "Dayna, why don't you see if you can't give Tarrant a hand?"
"Or whatever else you feel like giving," Vila added with a harsh laugh. "I'm sure he would appreciate it."
Dayna did not appear to hear him. She just looked at Avon, nodded slowly and left. Cally moved over and picked up the slides Dayna had been looking at. Avon simply stared at the man on the couch.
"Well, what are you staring at?" Restal exclaimed.
"Nothing," Avon returned steadily, "nothing at all."
The man caught the double meaning and glared at him. Then his eyes wandered over to Cally and he smiled wickedly. "Has Avon bedded you yet, Cally?"
She dropped the slides with a clatter to the counter and turned to look at him, her cheeks flaming. "What do you mean?"
Restal's eyes twinkled, but not with merriment. "Avon knows what I mean, don't you, Avon? It's not like it's any great secret, after all. You've wanted her for a long time. Vila wanted her, too, but he was too much of a gentleman to cut in. Especially since the lady seemed to prefer your company."
Avon said nothing, but Restal went on as if he had. "You see, Cally, it's true. Maybe not the bedding yet but he does want you." He paused, appraising her with his eyes. "I wonder if she's still a virgin." And the expression on Cally's face gave him his answer. "And after all this time! Avon, you must be losing your touch. That is, if you ever had any."
A change came over Vila's face, his eyes dilating slightly. "Stop it." His voice sounded different, softer.
"Shut up," Restal grumbled, then went on. "I wonder what she'd be like to bed."
"I said stop it." The voice was a little stronger this time and it sounded like Vila.
Avon and Cally exchanged looks. It was obvious that a war was going on within Vila's mind, but who was winning?
And Vila's mind was not the only one. Avon's thoughts were in a turmoil, too, because Restal had been partially correct. He had been attracted to Cally for some time. But after his reunion with Anna and her death, he had banished any notions of attachment with another being from his mind. Restal's cruel words had reopened the wound.
For her part, Cally had been equally shocked. She had been drawn to Avon, initially by his intelligence and strength of will. Lately, though, she had felt his need of a companion, someone on whom he could depend. She had tried to fill that need, even as she had sensed Vila had after Blake had disappeared. But since Anna's death, a wall had formed around Avon and neither she nor Vila had been able to penetrate it.
It was both horrifying and yet fascinating to watch the changes come over their companion as the two identities sought control. One minute Vila, the next Restal. One body, but two different voices emanating from it.
"I will not let you hurt my friends," came Vila's voice firmly if a little weak.
"You can't stop me," Restal replied mockingly.
"I can and I will somehow." And the gloating look disappeared from Vila's eyes. Quite suddenly, Vila was there, stammering out an apology. "Avon. Cally. I...I didn't mean...that is, I never thought any of what he said. Never."
Cally was at his side in a moment. "I know, Vila," she murmured softly, brushing the hair from his forehead.
But Vila was looking past her at Avon whose dark eyes were veiled. "Avon, please don't look like that. I've never thought anything like what he said. Please, you must believe me," Vila pleaded.
Avon walked over and gazed down at Vila. "The subconscious can store a great deal of hate, Vila. Along with whatever secret thoughts, wishes...." He paused, looking at Cally. "Or desires a person may dream of."
"But...but I never thought of...I mean," Vila started to say, then stopped. "It is true that I like Cally," he confessed with averted eyes. "But not what he said. Not anything like that."
Cally looked at him, slightly amused. "You would not like to 'bed' me, Vila?"
Vila looked horrified at the thought. "You...me...together?" He glanced uneasily at Avon. "No...no. I couldn't do that."
"You see, Vila," Avon told him quietly, "you do believe Cally is mine." He looked over at Cally and was surprised to find her eyes on him.
"Avon," Vila's voice was growing faint and his face had turned pale. His fragile hold was slipping. "Avon, promise me something."
"If I can," Avon replied in a non-committal tone.
"If...if you can't get rid of...of Restal," Vila licked his lips, "promise you'll kill me."
Whatever else they might have expected him to say, this was not it. It was Cally's turn to look horrified.
"Vila...." Avon began.
"Promise me. I can't...won't live like this." Vila shuddered. "He's cruel, evil, Avon. He enjoys hurting people. Hurting my friends." Vila looked pleadingly up at his companions. "And I don't want them to be hurt." His tone grew serious. "I want your word, Avon."
Avon held his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "If and when I decide Restal cannot be dealt with and only then, Vila."
"Fair enough," came Vila's faint voice and he closed his eyes.
The pair waited for Restal's re-emergence. When there was no sign, Cally administered a sedative, then left for her cabin, drained by what she had seen and heard.
Avon lingered for a while, remembering the emotions he had felt. Desire for Cally, then hatred for the man on the couch. Avon could not think of him as Vila. Vila was somewhere else, being held against his will. No, the man on the couch was his enemy and Avon would do everything he could to destroy that man, and save Vila. Even if it came to killing him.
#
Three days passed and Orac continued his study while Avon and Cally bore the brunt of Restal's anger and sarcastic comments. But near the end of Vila's first week back on board, the disgusting torrent seemed to diminish. Without warning, Restal would break off in mid-insult and Vila would suddenly be there, apologizing with tears streaming from his eyes. The increasing resurgence of Vila encouraged Avon and Cally, helping them to ignore the scathing remarks that Restal heaped upon the pair each time he was conscious.
Tarrant and Dayna stayed clear of the medical unit. Their one exposure to Restal had been more than enough to dissuade any further appearances there. Vila had begged Cally to apologize to Tarrant and she had, but Restal's remarks had sounded so bitter that Tarrant could not bring himself to see Vila again.
#
Then as the second week began, Orac's findings took on a sinister note as he disclosed there had been unusual activity by the Restal entity.
"I have noted a series of changes in the cerebral readings which lead me to believe that the Restal entity is gathering strength."
"How is that possible?" Dayna inquired with a wondering look. "I mean, he would have to kill Vila to do that, wouldn't he?"
"No, Dayna," Avon answered thoughtfully. "I should have seen it coming." He looked at the others. "The conscious self utilizes very little of the brain's potential leaving the subconscious access to a virtually unlimited source."
"Exactly," Orac confirmed. "Apparently, Restal has only just realized this and has begun to draw upon it."
"Then what do we do?" Cally asked worriedly.
"I don't know," Avon told her. "But one thing is for certain, we must be on our guard. Lately, with Vila emerging as often as he has, we have slacked up. Now...." He left the sentence hanging.
#
Restal's first attack caught Cally completely by surprise. She was alone in the medical unit and Vila had been talking to her. The Auron reached to pat his hand in assurance. Without warning, he took hold of her wrist. Cally gasped in pain and tried to pull free but the grip only tightened. She stared down at Vila and saw not Vila's gentle eyes but those of a madman.
"Frightened, Cally?" came Restal's cold voice. "There's nothing to be afraid of." His fingers dug into her skin and blood started flowing. "Nothing at all."
Cally struggled, striking out with her free hand as the pain mounted, but to no avail. Then she heard the door open behind her and Avon's startled cry. Release came swiftly as Avon brought his fist down hard on Vila's wrist. Restal screamed in pain and let go. Not content to leave it at that, Avon then delivered a short blow to the man's neck, rendering him unconscious.
Cally was trembling badly and Avon pulled her over to the other med couch, and forced her to lie down while he checked her injuries. Her wrist was badly bruised and there were cuts where Restal's fingernails had pierced the skin. She watched Avon's eyes as he surveyed the damage. They were burning with an intensity she had not seen before.
"Avon." Her voice was anything but steady, but she had to calm him. "Avon, it wasn't Vila's fault. It was mine. I was careless. Do you understand? It was my fault, not his."
Avon looked at her, his eyes suddenly unreadable. When he had come in and seen Cally's plight, he could have killed Vila. Indeed, he had come very close to giving him a death blow, only realizing at the last minute what he was about to do.
"It'll be sore for a while," he told her at length, pleased that his voice conveyed none of the emotions he was feeling. "But there's nothing broken."
The figure on the couch stirred and Cally and Avon regarded him with wary eyes. "Cally?" It was Vila's voice and she slid slowly to her feet and moved over to him. Avon moved up beside her.
"Are...are you all right?" Vila asked. Tears were already beginning to spill down his cheeks.
"Yes, Vila," she murmured gently. "I am not hurt."
"Much," Avon amended and glared angrily at Vila.
"It wasn't my fault," Vila told him. "Really. He came too quick for me to stop him. I...I...." His voice faded.
"I enjoyed it," Restal's voice suddenly erupted and Avon protectively drew Cally back away from him. "I enjoyed it very much." He eyed the pair and laughed. "You know, don't you, Avon? You know whatever chance you may have had is gone now. Vila, the coward, is no more."
Avon studied him intently. "I do not believe that, Restal. Vila may never have shown his courage, but I think he's always had more than he allowed us to see. And I think he will use it now--against you."
"I thought you believed Blake to be the optimist?" Restal's tongue was as sharp as ever but Avon ignored it.
"We shall see," Avon returned and removed a sedative from the counter and sent it into Vila's bloodstream.
He and Cally waited for the man to lapse into unconsciousness, but Restal laughed again. "That won't work this time either. I now have complete control of the body. I can neutralize anything you give me."
Avon pondered the situation for a moment, then gave the man a predatory smile. "Can you? I wonder...." He turned to Orac. "Orac, can you do anything to assist us?"
"Certainly." And he did, sending a charge of electrical current into Vila's body which took the entity completely by surprise and rendered him unconscious.
Avon warily approached the man and examined him. "How long will that keep him under?"
"By matching the impulses of the brain with an identical electrical pattern, I can maintain the condition indefinitely," answered the computer. "But it is not to be recommended as it will eventually cause damage to the brain tissue."
Avon nodded to himself. "Have you come up with any treatment theories beyond the one we've already tried?"
"As yet, no. However, all hope should not be forsaken."
Cally smiled at Orac's answer. "Ensor must have indulged in literature as well as science."
"How's the wrist?" Avon asked her.
"As you said, a little sore but it is all right." Her eyes drifted across to Vila. "Avon, what Restal said, is it true? Is Vila gone?"
"I...don't know," Avon said slowly. Then he looked into her eyes and added, "I hope not. If he is...."
And Cally remembered Avon's promise to Vila. "You...you would not kill Vila?"
"Vila, no," he answered softly. "But this is not Vila. This is Restal and he's too dangerous to keep on board. Look what already has happened. If I had not come in...."
"I would have dealt with it," Cally told him and her eyes reassured Avon. "But what are we...." She never finished the thought as Tarrant's voice suddenly erupted from the intercom.
"Avon, Cally, get up here fast."
"What is it, Tarrant?" Avon inquired quickly.
"Federation ships, a lot of them," Dayna answered.
"On our way," Avon responded and the pair left the room, leaving Orac to keep watch on Vila.
#
"Where the hell did they come from?" Avon demanded as he ran down the steps of the flight deck.
"I don't know," Tarrant fired back. "One minute the scanner was clear and the next...." He gestured to the viewscreen which contained no less than ten Federation ships. "Where's Orac? We could use him on this."
"Orac is busy elsewhere," Avon returned and moved to his position while Cally took hers. "Zen, put the battle computers on line."
+Battle computers are on line and ready,+ the ship's computer replied.
"Avon, I'm receiving a transmission from one of the Federation ships," Cally announced.
"Put it on audio," Avon ordered.
A very familiar female voice filled the air. "Why, Avon. What an unexpected pleasure."
"I'm sure it is," he replied, his mind seeking a plan. "What do you want, Servalan?"
"Come now, Avon. I should think it obvious. You and your little band have caused me enough trouble. You will surrender yourselves and the Liberator at once or I shall be forced to order my ships to fire."
Aside to Cally, Avon said, "See if you can pinpoint which ship the signal is coming from." And she nodded an acknowledgement.
"What are your terms concerning our safety?" he asked though he knew already.
"Terms? My dear Avon, you're in no position to ask that. You are outnumbered."
"Cally, which one is it?" Avon snapped, closing down the comm.
"Just a minute," she muttered. "There, I have it. That ship, the one just behind the lead vessel."
"Rather clumsy for Servalan to have her ship so conveniently within range, isn't it?" Dayna said.
"Yes, it is," Avon smiled back. "Tarrant, feed the coordinates into the battle computers. Have them fire on the three ships surrounding hers when the order is given but not on hers." His eyes held Tarrant's for a moment. "Not on hers, understand?"
Tarrant looked surprised but nodded. "All right, Zen, you heard the man. Battle computers to lock onto targets in grid sector 4, positions 3, 4 and 6."
+Confirmed.+
Avon reopened the comm. "Sorry to cut you off like that, Madam President, but I had to discuss the situation with the rest of my crew."
"I understand perfectly," Servalan purred and turned to her captain. Avon's pause had made her uneasy. "You are certain our position is secure here?"
The captain nodded confidently. "Perfectly secure, Madam President. This ploy has never failed and I've used it many times."
"Against fools, perhaps. But Avon is no fool by any means," Servalan returned. She still felt uneasy. Something was happening on the Liberator. She knew Avon would not surrender so he had to be planning something. //Now if I were in a similar situation,// she thought to herself, //what would I do?//
The idea came to her even as Avon gave the order to fire. The ships providing cover for her own vessel dissolved into fragmented metal, some of which struck her vessel in several areas.
The captain, shaken by the suddenness of the attack, nevertheless kept his head and ordered the damaged compartments sealed. Fortunately, none had struck the control room where he and Servalan were located. Not so fortunate were some thirty or forty crewmen who were trapped behind the airtight doors and left to die as the air leaked from the ship into space.
"Break formation," Servalan screamed at him. "All other vessels are to converge on the Liberator and destroy it." Acknowledgements cluttered the communications channel and Servalan smiled. "A clever move, Avon, but not clever enough." She turned to the captain and snapped, "Get us back to base."
"At once, Madam President," he stammered. He knew if he was extremely lucky he might be given the opportunity of an honorable death, but somehow he doubted it.
#
On board the Liberator, Avon and his crew laughed as Servalan's damaged ship pulled out of formation and headed away. But their time of rejoicing was short-lived.
"Put up the force wall," Avon shouted as six plasma bolts flew towards the ship. Then to the others on the flight deck, he said, "Hold on."
Zen intoned, +Force wall is now in place. Plasma bolts are running true.+
The impact shook everyone's grip loose and threw them violently to the floor. The Liberator quivered and vibrated like a harpooned whale.
Avon scrambled to his feet and checked his panel. The energy readings in three of the power banks were low, too low. "Energy banks 3, 7 and 9 are indicating power loss."
"I shouldn't wonder," Tarrant muttered, climbing shakily back into his seat. "Zen, damage report."
+Severe damage is reported in the third level compartment housing--+
Avon interrupted the computer's report. "Housing the components maintaining the energy banks. I'm going down to take a look."
"Avon, it's too dangerous down there," Tarrant advised him. "Another hit like that last one...."
"Then you'd better make sure we aren't hit again, hadn't you?" Avon snapped back.
Cally helped Dayna to her feet and into her console chair. "All right?" she asked her.
"Except for a headache the size of a small moon, yes," Dayna moaned. "How about you?"
"I'm all right." She watched Avon race off the flight deck. "I think I'd better go and help Avon."
"Cally," Tarrant exclaimed as she ran up the stairs after him. "It's too...." //Dangerous//, he finished to himself and shook his head. "Dayna, can you handle the neutron blasters?"
The look she gave him was answer enough. "All right, all right," he laughed shakily and put a hand to his forehead. His own headache came close to matching hers. "I was just asking. I think if we fire a wide enough burst, we might be able to blow a hole big enough to slip through."
"Just give me the word," Dayna replied and focused her eyes on the panel in front of her.
"Zen, was any damage sustained to the main drive system?"
+Negative. Main drive is fully operational.+
"That's something anyway," Tarrant said aloud. "How about the forcewall, Dayna?"
"Down to 70%," she replied uneasily.
+Information. Six plasma bolts have been fired and are running true.+
Tarrant swore. "That's all we need." He looked to Dayna. "Don't raise the forcewall until they're almost on us."
"You don't have to tell me what to do, Tarrant," she told him.
Tarrant hurriedly activated the intercom, setting it for shipwide broadcast. "Avon. Cally. Hold on down there. There's another batch coming in."
Avon's voice came on. "We've found the break and we're almost finished here, Tarrant."
"Just hold on," Tarrant replied. "They're going to hit any second. Dayna, forcewall up--now!"
The vibration which shook the Liberator was worse than before and flung Cally and Avon headlong across the room into the wall, knocking them out. Sparks flew from shorted-out circuitry and flashed along the partially exposed wiring that Avon had been splicing. The wiring burst into flame, flames which spread quickly.
#
The second blast also shook Orac loose from his perch on the table in the medical unit. As the computer fell to the floor, the electrode leads tore free from the unconscious Restal. Seconds later, the man came awake and smiled.
The lights were flickering on and off as the emergency systems tried to compensate for the energy drain and unnecessary systems were closed down. Unnecessary systems such as the restraints which held Restal.
An instant later, they sprang open and he sat up, rubbed his wrists and looked around. His eyes fell upon the familiar shape of his kit lying next to the med computer and he smiled. "You never know. This might come in handy sometime," he mumbled and reached over and picked it up.
Orac buzzed angrily from the floor, but could do nothing as Restal got to his feet and walked out of the room. Sparks showered down on him as he entered the corridor as lighting fixtures shorted out. The ship was obviously badly damaged, might even be breaking up around him. He did not hesitate and ran for the section containing the life capsules.
He was half-way there when Dayna's frantic voice over the intercom made him pause in mid-stride. "Avon? Cally?" No response. "Avon, respond please! Cally, come in!"
Then Tarrant's voice was heard in the background. "The impact hit hardest in their area, Dayna. The airtight doors are already starting to seal the area off. If they're not dead, they soon will be."
"We can't be sure of that, Tarrant," Dayna argued. "That's the most heavily shielded part of the ship, especially the energy bank compartment. They might still be alive."
Restal ignored the rest of the conversation and headed for the third level. His intention--to make sure Avon was dead, one way or the other.
#
Several times he had to clamber over pieces of sheet metal which lay strewn in the corridor and duck around electrical cables which snaked out of the walls spewing sparks at him.
Finally, he arrived at the compartment entrance. The door was shut, sealed by the ship in its attempt to safeguard the rest of the level. He laid a hand to the surface of the door, then jerked it back quickly. It was very hot. There had to be fire on the other side.
Restal smiled wickedly. "Death by fire," he mused. "How very appropriate. Now I'd better get to the life capsules and get off the ship before she blows."
Restal turned to head back the way he'd come and found he could not move. "Hey, what the...."
"No," Vila's voice suddenly announced.
"You?" Restal was clearly surprised. "I thought I'd gotten rid of you."
"I'm not leaving them in there to die, Restal." And Vila's voice grew stronger.
"They're probably already dead," Restal replied. "There's no telling how long the fire's been burning. It's probably used up all the oxygen in there."
"I'm not leaving them," Vila said.
"Be reasonable. Even assuming you can get the door open, the fire. you remember what the fire did to you before."
"Yes...yes, I remember," Vila quavered, but Restal still could not move. "I won't let you murder them."
"How do you intend to stop me?" Restal snapped and struggled to move. He concentrated all of his energy on taking just one step. Just one would break the hold Vila had over him. Just one step. Just one.
"No!" Vila screamed and quite suddenly found himself back in control. He was free. Restal was gone, vanquished back to the darkness where he belonged. Vila staggered and fell to his knees. He shook his head several times to clear it, then looked back at the door.
Avon and Cally lay behind it and he had to get them out of there. He approached it cautiously and passed a hand lightly over the surface. It was very hot which meant the internal temperature of the room had to be much higher. Opening it would be tricky, but he knew he could do it. He withdrew the kit from his pocket and set to work.
Vila had the door open in seconds; all it required was some simple cross-wiring, but he hesitated, staring at the flames which seemed to engulf the room.
Fire. Burning, horrible fire and the memory of it made Vila draw back in fear. Then he heard a sound, a moan from within the room. It was the only impetus he needed and Vila plunged forward into the inferno.
#
When Avon came to, he was lying comfortably in the medical unit, a cool cloth draped over his face. He pushed it aside irritably and opened his eyes. Tarrant's image swam into view.
"Feeling better?" Tarrant queried with a grin on his face.
"Do you know how stupid a question that is?" Avon snapped.
Tarrant chuckled. "I'd say he's all right, Dayna."
Avon glared at him for a moment, then grimaced. "I suppose I should thank you for saving my life."
Tarrant suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I'd like to claim that credit but I can't. Vila pulled you and Cally out."
"Vila pulled us out?" Avon repeated mechanically and Vila's smiling face appeared at his side. There were smears of black soot on his face and his cheeks looked streaked as though by tears. The hair on his forehead looked singed.
"Thought you were rid of me, didn't you?" Vila teased, smiling. Then he fell silent, conscious of Avon's searching eyes.
"You rescued us?" Somehow Avon could not believe it.
"Uh, well, yes," Vila stammered. "I just happened to be in the area, you see, and...."
"Cally's coming round," Dayna interrupted from Avon's right, and he turned his head to gaze at Cally. Her clothes were every bit as dirty and torn up as his, but she was smiling.
*It is Vila, Avon,* Cally telepathed. *I know it is he. Restal is gone.*
The relief he felt was overwhelming, but Avon did not show it. Instead, he scowled and looked back at Vila. "I suppose you've been sitting there waiting for me to thank you?"
Vila looked insulted. "No, I haven't," he snapped back. "I know better than to expect any thanks from you. You never thank anyone for anything. And I wouldn't expect you to start now."
"Good, because I don't intend to." But his eyes said otherwise and Vila's twinkled in reply. "Now," Avon added, "Tarrant, how bad was the ship damaged?"
"Not too bad," Tarrant explained. "Once Dayna had blasted us a hole wide enough...." His voice droned on, but Avon wasn't really listening.
He was watching Vila, content to know he was here, really here and again his old familiar, complaining self. Avon had missed him more than he had thought possible and silently swore he would never again send Vila on a mission alone. Nor would he tease him anymore. Avon smiled to himself; well, at least not until he was back on his feet again.
the end
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