A soft hand caressed his cheek and ruffled his hair. The warmth of a woman's breath tickled his ear as she whispered, "I know you're awake, Avon. Why pretend you're not?"

Servalan moved back a discrete distance on the couch as the figure stirred and opened his eyes. It took a few minutes for them to focus but when they did, there was nothing but hatred burning in them.

"Hardly the way to thank someone who saved your life," she chided. "But then you were never one to accept anything graciously."

Avon did not answer as he got shakily to his feet and looked around. A dozen weapons followed his every movement but except for the mutoids, he and Servalan were alone.

"I'm getting tired of this one-sided conversation," Servalan snapped. "I kept you alive at great personal risk, Avon. Great personal risk and this is how you repay me!"

"What do you mean, kept me alive?" Avon asked in a cold menacing voice. "I thought Tarrant might have offered you greater pleasure."

Servalan smiled. "Tarrant was entertaining on occasion, but not what I considered worth salvaging. He had become too much of a crusader for my tastes. So...."

"So he died with the others," Avon finished. Vila, Dayna, Soolin, and Tarrant, all dead. And Blake, too, he remembered with sudden clarity.

Servalan watched his face, wondering if her plan would work. If he would not do it voluntarily, there was always her contingency plan to fall back on, but she did not relish the idea. "Avon, please, sit down. You're still very weak from being stunned."

"Your concern is touching, Servalan." Avon looked at the guards and sighed. "Do I pose that great a threat to you?" he inquired, settling in a chair across from her.

"My captain insisted on the guards," she murmured. "He was afraid you might try to kill me." She dismissed the thought with an idle gesture of the hand.

"An idea distinctly possible," he conceded.

She smiled, remembering the report she'd been given. "They tell me you killed five of my men before they were able to overpower you. Five of the best at that." She nodded to one of the guards, who withdrew. He returned a few minutes later bearing a tray with two glasses on it. Servalan took one, then offered the other to Avon. "I'm sure you will not decline a glass of wine with me, Avon, to commemorate my successful venture."

The threat was thinly veiled and Avon accepted the glass of dark liquid in silence. It would ease the dryness of his throat and he drank it slowly, savouring each drop. The wine, however, did nothing to change his feelings towards her and when he spoke again, the menace was back in his voice. "You did not 'save' me to share a glass of wine. What do you want, Servalan?"

You're not going to make this easy, are you, Avon? she thought. Damn those guards. I'll never be able to make him see reason with them present. "Withdraw to the corners, anywhere, but keep back," she ordered. Reluctantly, the mutoids took up positions against the wall but their attention was locked on Avon.

"I repeat, Servalan, what do you want?"

"No-one, with the exception of the captain of this vessel, knows of your existence," she told him. "As far as the rest of the Federation is concerned you died with the rest of your party on Gauda Prime. I told you I took a great risk."

"And what of those who captured me? They know I'm still alive." She smiled slyly. And Avon said, "Ah, I see. More of the unfortunate accidents which Commissioner Sleer has no doubt been assigned to investigate."

"I always know where I stand with you, Avon," she purred. "We are very much alike, you and I. But to get back to your question, I need help...help to regain my position as the President of the Federation. Competent, intelligent help."

"And you think I will lend you mine?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Avon, Avon," she exclaimed in an exasperated tone. "There is no longer a Blake to lead the rebellion. Without him as a rallying point, the underground leaders are lost. Can't you see? You could win them over to my side and together, we would then topple the current Presidency. Re-establish my power."

Avon studied her face for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You're serious. You're really serious, aren't you? Do you honestly believe I would help you after what's happened?"

Servalan frowned. The interview was not going as planned. Avon had apparently been submersed too long in Blake's aura. "Maybe I made a mistake. I did not realise you enjoyed playing Blake's loyal follower. I thought you might have grown tired of the betrayals...."

"Like Anna's?" Avon interrupted.

"If you like," she returned. "I will not offer you this chance a second time, Avon. Will you join me of your own free will or must I resort to something I had hoped would not be necessary?"

There was no hesitation on Avon's part as he responded. "Nothing would make me join you," he told her coldly. "Nothing."

Servalan sighed, standing up. "Very well. Bring him." Avon was dragged to his feet and forced to follow her out into an empty corridor. "This section of the ship is restricted for my use only," she explained as they walked along. "Mutoids patrol the halls and only the captain and Dr. Janus are permitted admittance."

"How very convenient to dispose of unwanted guests," he replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Avon! I thought you knew me better than that," she chastised. "No, I want to show you something. Something I hope will change your mind."

She stopped before a viewscreen which occupied a moderate section of the wall. "This is our medical unit. Not as sophisticated as some but still quite functional." She activated the control. Immediately, a large room came into focus. A man, a physician by his garb, was working diligently over a patient. With the doctor's back to the screen, Avon could not see who it was he was operating on. "Doctor Janus?" Servalan called, then glanced at Avon's face,

Janus turned slowly towards the screen and Avon's eyes widened as he recognised the pale features of the man lying on the table. Vila. The doctor moved to a small panel near the table and flipped a switch. "Yes, Commissioner Sleer?"

Satisfied at Avon's recognition of his companion, Servalan turned her attention to the doctor. "I was wondering how your patient was faring?"

"As well as can be expected, Commissioner. His internal injuries constituted a considerable drain on our organ bank but with the donations we've received from the base on Chenga, there should be no further complications."

"I see. What exactly were his injuries?" she asked, watching the expression on Avon's face from the corner of her eyes.

"Partial coronary failure, pneumothorax of the right lung along with severe abdominal damage," the doctor reported. "It's a wonder he's alive at all considering the amount of jostling he suffered during transfer."

"But his chances of survival are good?" Servalan inquired.

"His condition is stable, Commissioner. Beyond that, he seems healthy enough. I see no reason he will not continue to improve."

"Thank you, Doctor. If there's any change, notify me immediately."

"Of course, Commissioner."

The screen went blank and Servalan turned to Avon. "So Vila is still alive," he murmured, staring at the empty screen.

"Yes," she answered. "He seems to have a thief's talent for survival. However, his continued existence will depend entirely on you."

Avon glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"You should see your face, Avon," Servalan laughed. "All this talk about caring for no-one when it's very plain you do." Then she grew serious. "As I said, his life rests in your hands. If you agree to cooperate, I'll see that all records regarding you and Vila are removed from the Federation Central Computer. Then as soon as he's well enough, I'll assign him to be your aide."

Avon glared at her. He was relieved that Vila was alive and had survived Gauda Prime. But to do as she asked, no, demanded, was not possible. He would not do it.

Vila meant nothing to him, at least not to the extent that he would concede to Servalan's will. The thief would be killed anyway as soon as Servalan felt it safe. And once she had the Presidency within her grasp, he, too, would become expendable.

Servalan's voice broke his concentration. "Avon, I realise you need time to think. I've assigned quarters for you just down the corridor so you can be close to your 'friend'. You have three days. Three days, Avon, and then...."

He eyed her coolly. "Then we become one of your little unsolved investigations."

"How well you know me, Avon, but I hope it will not come to that." She smiled again and took his arm, leading him to a door near the end of the hall. A small card had been inserted in the registry slot, identifying its occupant as one K. ADRIAN. "And these are your quarters. I trust you will find them comfortable."

Avon activated the door mechanism and it slid open revealing a spacious apartment as well as a rather muscular mutoid who stood just inside. "With my own personal bodyguard. You think of everything, Servalan," he commented wryly.

"Oh, I try, Avon. I try. But now, you must be tired. Dinner is at seven and I should like you to join me as my guest."

"Alone?" he queried, looking at the guards.

"As alone as I can ever be with you," she said and retraced her steps up the corridor.

Avon walked inside the apartment and idly took a look around. The couch was comfortable but not overly so, as was the chair. The bed was of the latest airflow design though the stabilising field needed adjustment. The bathing facilities were suitable for his needs. He didn't need to see the monitoring devices to know he was under constant surveillance. Servalan would never trust him as he would never trust her.

"You approve?" Servalan's image inquired from the wall viewer as he returned to the main room.

"Satisfactory," Avon commented. "How long before Vila's surgery is completed and I can see him?"

"Oh, I'm afraid he won't be able to have visitors until tomorrow." She looked at him with concern. "Avon, you really should get some rest. I know the captain is looking forward to meeting you and you wouldn't want to embarrass me by showing up looking half-dead."

"Your concern is beginning to get irritating, Servalan," he retorted and tried to shut the viewer off but the control would not work.

"I'm afraid there is a slight flaw in the control unit," she sighed. "I can turn it on and off but you can't. See you at seven. Do be punctual." The screen went blank.

Avon was furious and turned his back to the screen to hide his rage. Servalan was probably still watching with the visual turned off and he would not give her the satisfaction of knowing how angry she had made him. Avon had always cherished his privacy but then she would have known that. Servalan was devious, he reminded himself, but so am I. He dismissed the mutoid's presence from his mind. He was tired and his body still ached with the aftereffects of the stunguns. He needed to rest, to gather his strength and find some way to escape.

Retiring to the bedroom, he opened one of the closets. There was a wide variety of clothing to choose from, all elegantly tailored and in his size. However, only one suit attracted him; it was made of deep blue satin velvet trimmed in silver. He laid it on the bed and went into the bathroom. The face reflected by the mirror bore scant resemblance to the man once known as Kerr Avon. There were dark circles around his eyes, his face was covered with grime and dirt and an some areas, dried blood. Whose? he wondered. Mine or.... He pulled himself away from the memory, but it left him shaking. Forget about it. There were other things to consider now, more important things. And he set about cleaning himself up.

#

In her room, Servalan was watching and smiled in anticipation. You are not fooling me, Avon, she murmured to herself. Not at all. You're trapped this time. The man on the monitor withdrew a piece of apparel from the closet and laid it on the bed. Servalan frowned. Must he be forever be in mourning for Anna Grant? No, she corrected herself, he had worn dark colours before. And she had to admit he wore them very well.

The comlink on her desk chimed. It was Dr. Janus. "Yes, Doctor?"

"I've completed the surgery, Commissioner."

"And your prognosis?" she inquired.

"Barring any complications, he should make a full recovery."

"Excellent." She paused in thought. "Dr. Janus, how soon before he can have visitors? I've located a close friend of his who is most anxious to see him."

The doctor grew thoughtful. "Tomorrow morning, I should think, Commissioner. But the visit will have to be kept brief. He will need plenty of rest."

"I understand. I shall make sure the visit it very brief. Thank you." Servalan smiled. "With Vila as my lever, Avon will do anything I ask. Perhaps not as willingly as I had hoped, but he will do it." She looked up at a holograph on the wall. "Very soon, President Gravis, you and I shall meet. But I will not be alone."

At exactly seven, the door to her apartment opened and Avon, accompanied by his bodyguard entered. Servalan and another man, dressed in a Federation officer's uniform had been chatting pleasantly, but broke off. She stood up and smiled. "Ah, here is our honoured guest. Captain Neville, Kerr Avon."

The officer's jaw tightened ever so slightly as he extended his hand in greeting. Avon merely stared back at him and the officer dropped his hand. "His manners, Commissioner, appear to lack proper training."

She flashed a warning look to Avon who ignored her. "You must forgive him, Captain. He's been associating so long with wanton felons and rabble that he's forgotten what courtesy is." A bell sounded and she smiled. "Shall we dine?"

Dinner consisted of several delicacies which proved to be expertly prepared. C'estcushon and wild dagon from Amari, exotic fowl from Menora, the Federation's most recent colony, and a wide range of fruits, many from Earth which Avon had not eaten for some time. He ate slowly, choosing his food with care, and watched Servalan.

Following the meal, they adjourned to the lounge area where Servalan served her guests more of the wine Avon had sampled earlier. The captain smacked his lips in appreciation while Avon sipped his cautiously.

Servalan looked at him and laughed. "I do believe, Captain, Avon fears I may have poisoned the wine."

"It would not be beneath you," Avon commented acidly.

Neville was on his feet instantly, throwing what wine he had left in his glass in Avon's face. "Scum. You will retract that statement at once."

Avon glowered at the captain, all too aware that his 'bodyguard' had drawn his weapon and had it trained on him. One wrong move and he was a dead man.

Servalan watched the scene with amusement in her eyes. "Well?" When he did not reply, she frowned. "A word of apology has been known to save a man's life, Avon. Don't forget that."

You mean Vila's life, Avon thought. I'm a bigger fool than he is to take all of this abuse. Vila means nothing to me. Nothing. 'Then why are you worrying about him?' asked a voice within his mind.

"I will not ask you again," Captain Neville snapped.

Avon stared at Servalan for a moment, then gazed into the dark, swirling depths in his glass and said, "I regret my prior statement, Commissioner."

Servalan smiled sweetly. "You see, Captain. He needs no lessons in manners. And I do accept your apology, Avon. It is growing late and I'm sure you both have much to do tomorrow."

"Yes, Commissioner." His tone indicated he had not accepted Avon's apology but he knew a dismissal when he heard it.

"I, too, have much to do tomorrow," Avon advised her. "Have I your permission to withdraw?"

"Of course," she murmured. "But I shall wish to see you after you've visited with Vila. There is much we have to discuss."

Avon nodded and left the room, his mind seething in rage, and the mutoid following closely at his heels. Fool! Grovelling before her like some frightened lackey. Why did I do it? he asked himself. Why? Avon was so busy trying to find a reason that he nearly collided with Dr. Janus who was exiting the medical unit.

"Oh!" the doctor exclaimed in surprise. "Did...did you need something? I was just on my way..."

"No," Avon snapped irritably and continued on towards his quarters. Then, he stopped and turned. "On second thought, yes, there was something, Doctor," he said in a calmer voice. "I was wondering about one of your patients? You operated on him earlier today. A young man, blond."

Janus was puzzled for a moment. "Oh yes, Trooper Varnet," he replied. "As I told Commissioner Sleer, barring any complications, he should make a full recovery." He looked at Avon closely. "You're the friend who was coming to see him in the morning, aren't you?"

"Yes," Avon admitted with some reluctance. "How did you know?"

"Commissioner Sleer mentioned it earlier when I gave her a report on his condition. That was a terrible wound he suffered raiding that rebel base. Terrible."

"You did say raiding the base?" Avon was sure he'd heard the man correctly.

"You didn't hear about it? I thought everyone had. Apparently, your friend singlehandedly killed two of Blake's people, including their ringleader, Kerr Avon. That's how he was hurt. Avon shot him...in the back." The doctor shook his head in disgust. "But what can you expect from a criminal like that?"

"Yes, what can you expect?" Avon mused, his mind whirling in thought. "What time in the morning can I come by, Doctor? I'd like to be there when 'Varnet' awakens."

"I should say sometime around six. The anesthesia should have worn off by then." He glanced at his chronometer. "Oh, I have an appointment with Captain Neville," he babbled. "And he's an impatient man these days. Never was before that Gauda Prime mess. Never before then. Well, see you in the morning." The doctor turned and hurried down the corridor.

Avon walked on to his room, ignoring the mutoid who followed him in the assumed its guard at the door. "Servalan?" Avon called. "I know you can hear me. I wish to speak to you. Servalan!"

"Really, Avon." The wall screen flashed on. "It is rather late, you know." Then, seeing the set look on his face, she sighed. "Well, what is so important?"

"You were not lying when you said only the captain and yourself knew of our identities, were you?"

Servalan looked apprehensive for a moment. "Who have you been talking to?"

"Dr. Janus," Avon replied. "I met him in the hall."

She relaxed. "I wonder what Vila will think when he finds he supposedly killed you," Servalan said, laughing. "But not before you tried to kill him."

"He'd better not find out," Avon countered. "Or do you want the shock to kill him? Then you'd have no hold on me, would you?"

"Go to sleep, Avon," she snapped angrily. "Be thankful I kept that idiot alive at all." Servalan broke the connection and Avon smiled.

#

"Tarrant doesn't understand," Blake said, taking a step forward.

"Neither do I," Avon responded, and fired. Blake staggered but kept coming towards him. He fired again and still the other man came on. Avon fired one more time as Blake gripped his shoulders and looked into his eyes. No, it was not Blake, but Vila who stood before him, blood splattered on his face. The thief stared at him and mouthed a silent 'Why?' before slipping to the floor dead.

Avon awoke trembling, his face covered with sweat and his heart pounding from the nightmare. A pounding filled his ears, too, but it was coming from the door.

"Adrian? Adrian?" a voice called frantically. "Please wake up. It's very important. It's about your friend."

Avon jumped from the bed and ran for the door. A quick touch of his hand on the sensor opened it. Red-faced and panting, Dr. Janus stood outside. "Your friend," he gasped out. "You must come immediately."

Avon wasted no time and ran for the medical unit. Dr. Janus turned to follow but was shoved roughly to one side as the mutoid chased after Avon.

Vila was suffering convulsions and gasping for air as the door slid open and Avon started in. Then an arm grabbed him and dragged him outside, jamming him hard against the wall. Avon wrestled with the mutoid, knowing he lacked the strength to overcome it. Then a blaster was thrust against his side and Avon stopped struggling.

Dr. Janus arrived then and stared at Avon in surprise. Rushing into the medical unit, he punched in a communications number. A few minutes later, Servalan's sleepy face appeared on the screen.

"I am very sorry to disturb you, Commissioner, but it is an emergency," Janus apologised.

Servalan's irritated look dissolved when she saw Vila behind the doctor and the condition he was in. "What has happened?" she demanded.

"Severe convulsions, but they are abating now," answered the physician. Vila's condition appeared worse than before to Avon as he stared helplessly through the door at the thief.

"Then why...," Servalan began.

"The trauma Trooper Varnet suffered is not unknown, Commissioner, and I thought Adrian's presence and the sound of his voice might reassure Varnet but the mutoid will not let Adrian enter. In fact, it's threatening him with a weapon."

Servalan grew thoughtful. Of course, Avon would rush to see Vila. After all, if he were to die... No, she corrected herself, that look I saw on his face was real and not an act. "Guard," she ordered, "Release him and remain outside."

The mutoid obeyed without question and Avon hurried to Vila's side. Dr. Janus was administering something which seemed to ease the thief's trembling and the doctor smiled in relief. "He should be all right.

Avon glared up at Servalan angrily. "His condition, Doctor?" she inquired, ignoring him.

Janus checked the monitor before replying. "He's stable again, Commissioner." Then he looked over at Avon. "I am sorry if I disturbed you, Adrian. It's just I thought..."

Avon motioned him silent, fully aware that Servalan was watching but not caring. The convulsions had stopped now and Vila's pulse and respiration were returning to normal.

Janus hesitated, then said, "Adrian, I'd like you to remain here for a while...in case he should awaken prematurely."

Avon glanced at the doctor and saw a warning flash in the man's eyes; then a plea for patience. "All right, Doctor, if you feel it necessary."

"Thank you" Janus murmured, then turned back to the screen. "As soon as he comes to, Commissioner, I will notify you."

Servalan was silent for a moment, wondering at the sudden zealousness of the doctor. He certainly had not displayed anything like this before. Curious. Then, "Very well, Janus. Keep me advised."

The screen went blank and Janus muttered an oath. "One day I will see you dead." The tone of his voice contained none of the imbecilic babbling he'd displayed earlier.

It surprised Avon but he gave no indication of it. His attention was focused entirely on the man lying in front of him.

"You're sure he will be all right?"

"Yes, Avon. The drug I gave him posed no real threat." When the other man did not react, Janus continued quietly. "The medical unit is the one place Sleer does not have spies or listening devices. The captain will not permit them and I have my own ways of making sure it's safe."

Avon glanced up, his eyes catching and holding the doctor's. "How did you know?"

"Vila. He came to for a brief time and asked if you were all right. I told him yes, but he seemed very worried about you." He paused momentarily to replace an empty plasma bottle with a fresh one, then check the drip as the solution trickled into Vila's veins.

Satisfied that the fluid was flowing properly, Janus went on. "When I talked with Captain Neville, I just put two and two together. Neville is planning to betray Sleer."

Avon laughed harshly. "Then he's a fool. No one double-crosses Servalan and live to tell about it."

"Well I know," Janus replied. At Avon's questioning look, he nodded. "Yes, I know who she is. But she doesn't know that. And I don't intend she finds out. I was at a friend's apartment...hiding, of course...when she killed him. Daren was afraid something might happen and made sure she didn't know I was there." He shuddered at the memory. "But I heard all of it."

"So what now?" Avon queried, a plan beginning to form in his mind.

"As soon as your friend has recovered sufficiently, I plan to transfer to another ship."

"One loose word, Doctor," Avon continued, "one uncharacteristic move such as you made a minute ago and you're dead."

Janus shrugged. "What do you propose I do?"

Avon had been waiting for him to ask. "Help us escape."

"Escape?" exclaimed Janus incredulously. "How?"

Vila chose that moment to sit up and scream. "Please don't kill me, Avon. Please!" he cried piteously. "Orac's wrong. There has to be something else on board that's doing it. Avon, please! Please don't kill me!"

The doctor stared at him in horror. The computer expert's face seemed frozen and Avon didn't realize he'd moved until he felt Vila's quivering body between his hands. The thief's voice was terrified and pleading. "Avon, please don't hurt me. I promise I'll do anything you ask but please, please don't kill me."

Avon eased the shaking man down onto the bed. "Vila, please. No one's going to hurt you. Least of all, me," he murmured gently, feeling him tremble under his touch. "Relax, you must relax. You've been hurt but everything's going to be all right, Vila. Trust me, Vila. Trust me, please."

A blurry image filled Vila's eyes as he opened them. Gradually, it grew closer. Dark hair with a worried face floating beneath. Avon? he wondered. Then the image sharpened. "Avon? Avon, are you all right?"

The computer expert smiled. "Yes, Vila. How do you feel?"

Vila licked his lips, trying to collect his thoughts. Everything seemed to be whirling around. He closed his eyes again and felt Avon's hands tighten. "My...my chest feels funny. Numb."

Avon glanced at Janus who grinned. "It's the medication I gave him. It has that effect sometimes. The numbness should pass in an hour or two."

Opening his eyes, the thief groaned. "My...my head hurts, too. And my back. In fact, all of me hurts a little," he complained.

"I'm sorry I asked," Avon replied, feeling better. "Vila, the others. What about the others?"

Vila whimpered. "They're...they're dead, Avon. All of them. Servalan had their bodies spaced as soon as we cleared orbit." So that's what brought back Malodaar, Avon thought, looking at his companion's haunted eyes.

"They took live prisoners, Avon. Blake's people they'd captured and...and spaced them. The guards laughed as they did it. Really laughed. Then they dragged us out of a room. I don't remember coming to, really. Just that I was suddenly awake. I saw them dump Tarrant's body in the airlock, then push the button." Vila shuddered. "Then they dragged the girls in. They made bets, Avon. They made bets on how long it would take before...before...." His body started trembling again at the memory.

"But they spared you, Vila," Avon said gently. "Why?"

The thief's eyes filled with terror. "I was in the airlock. There was blood everywhere, Avon and pieces of...of...the door, it's closing. No, you can't," Vila screamed. "Please don't."

Avon gripped him so hard it made the thief gasp. "Vila, it's over and no one is going to hurt you again. I won't let them. Do you understand? I won't let them."

Vila stared into his eyes for a moment, then swallowed and nodded. "I...I understand, Avon." He pulled himself together, then went on. "The next thing I know this officer was staring down at me. He must have just come by because he stopped them and called Servalan. She took so long to answer. Then they took me out of the airlock. After that, I don't remember anything until I woke up here." Vila looked up, confused. "Why...why didn't she kill me, too?"

"She tried," Dr. Janus put in. "On Gauda Prime."

"Yes," Avon commented with a smile. "But apparently you are harder to kill than she thought."

Vila managed to smile back.

"So what are we going to do?"

"For now, nothing " Avon responded. "We're still a good distance out from Earth and...."

"And Vila is much too weak to travel," Janus finished,. "Your injuries were extreme, Restal," he added at Vila's frightened look. "By all rights, you should have died."

"But I didn't," the thief whimpered, bringing a secret smile to Avon's lips.

"No, you didn't," Avon remarked, "but then you never could do anything right the first time."

"That's right," Vila muttered, "pick on me when I...." The thief grimaced.

"Vila, what is it?" Avon demanded. "What's the matter?"

"Don't know," he moaned, "I...I just feel so weak all of a sudden. So tired." Vila closed his eyes and went limp.

Janus checked him and sighed. "Too much excitement, that's all. He should feel better in the morning."

Avon eyed the man carefully. "You asked me how, Doctor. Servalan will discover the captain's intentions and soon. When she does, we make our move." He glanced at the thief. "Whether Vila is ready or not."

"From what he said, Neville plans to imprison all of you before we reach Earth," the doctor advised.

"Then we must keep alert. Once Servalan knows what he's planning, there will be no turning back."

"I understand," Janus replied. "There is one thing, though. If we get the chance, I want the first shot at Servalan."

Avon smiled and Janus was reminded of a reptilian creature long extinct on Earth. To see the smile of a crocodile was to court death. He could almost pity Servalan. "That pleasure is mine, Doctor, and mine alone."

"You'd better get back to your room now, Avon," the doctor told him. "It's still at least three hours before morning mess and you need sleep by the look of it."

Avon nodded, lingering long enough to reassure himself that Vila was all right, then walked from the room. The mutoid fell into step behind him. Entering his quarters, he started for the bed, then stopped. He was too tense to sleep so he walked to the bathing area and turned on the shower. The fact that the water nearly boiled him alive did not keep him from smiling at the frustration Servalan must have felt when the hidden monitor's lens fogged up.

#

Servalan was far from pleased with the report on her desk. She'd anticipated trouble but not on this level. So Captain Neville was planning to betray her. His honour was incorruptible. Well, she had prepared for this possibility.

Leaning forward, she switched on Avon's monitor. He appeared still asleep, his body lying half—covered by the sheet. Even asleep, he looks dangerous, she thought, then laughed softly. Dangerous but caged. She punched in the medical unit; there was a brief pause, then Dr. Janus appeared on the screen.

"Ah, Dr. Janus, how is your patient this morning?" Servalan inquired.

"Much improved, Commissioner. I expect he should come around within the next hour or so." In fact, Vila was already awake. That's what the pause had been when Servalan had buzzed.

"Good. I'm sure Av...Adrian will be very pleased to hear that." Servalan still tripped over the name. She had thought of it immediately, remembering a classmate many years earlier. He had been intelligent, devious and clever but not as clever as she. It was a pity she had been forced to kill him. "I shall make sure he's present when Varnet awakens," she added.

"Very good, Commissioner."

#

The screen went blank and Janus sighed in relief. "She's gone, Vila. It's safe."

The still form on the portable bed opened his eyes warily. "That was close. But you'll have to be more careful," he warned. "Servalan is no fool. Another delay like that and she'll begin suspecting something."

"I know, I know," the doctor admitted. "Avon told me the same thing. But sometimes I can't help myself. I keep remembering Darn and how she killed him, laughing while he squirmed in agony on the floor." He glanced at Vila and saw his pallid features. "I'm sorry, Vila. I didn't mean to remind you of..."

"I know," echoed Vila. "Servalan has a lot to account for. I just hope I'm there when she's called upon to pay up."

The doctor stared at him in surprise. Vengeance seemed out of place in the frail young man but from the grim look on his face, Vila had meant what he said. "I hope so, too," Janus answered, putting a hand on Vila's shoulder. "But right now we have something to discuss. This." He held up a small vial which contained a pale orange solution.

"What is that?" Vila asked in alarm.

"Servalan sent this to my quarters early this morning. Said it was a vitamin mixture but I didn't believe her and ran a few tests. It's a very deadly poison, Vila, one which remains permanently in the body. As long as the antidote is given on a daily basis, it remains dormant. But if it's not given, the victim will die a very painful death."

"Covering her bets, wasn't she?" Vila remarked, almost casually.

"Yes," Janus replied, marvelling at his perceptiveness. Whatever else he might pretend to be, the man was not a fool. "So what do we do?"

Vila thought for a moment. "Avon will have to be told as soon as possible," he instructed. "How soon were you to administer it?"

"When you came around. And she wanted to be present when I did it."

"Hmm, makes it a bit tricky," Vila mused. "Tell me, is there a drug which might duplicate the symptoms of the poison?"

Again, the doctor was surprised by the man's shrewdness. "Yes, there is one. But, Vila, it could be very dangerous. It puts a severe strain on the body. I don't know if you're strong enough yet."

"We don't seem to have a choice," Vila commented, watching the doctor's face. He's afraid of what Avon might do, Vila thought.

Thinking back to their reunion, Vila smiled to himself. The affection and concern he'd seen in Avon's face and heard in his voice had driven Malodaar's nightmare away for good. Even though his hold on sanity had been fragile, Avon would not have hurt him, Vila knew now with certainty.

A soft bell sounded. Someone was approaching the medical unit. Janus was silently thankful that Captain Neville had insisted on installing the device although the doctor had never used it until Vila had been brought in. The thief quickly resumed an unconscious posture as Janus sent the poison out into space via the disposal duct and replaced it with an identical vial filled with the narcotic. He still feared the consequences but as Vila had said, they had no choice. If he was not given the drug, Servalan would suspect something. And that would destroy everything.

Servalan activated the outside viewer, watching patiently as Dr. Janus put down a chart he was reading and answered her summons. The door opened and she glided in, her eyes taking in at once the vial resting on the cabinet. "Ah, Varnet is ready for his 'treatment'."

"Yes, Commissioner," Janus answered, keeping his voice calm and steady. "The readings indicate he should be awakening any time now."

"Good," she murmured. "I've sent for Adrian. He should be here shortly."

The words were no sooner out of her mouth when the door slid open and Avon entered, looking as if he had been awakened rather roughly.

Servalan frowned at the guard who accompanied him. "Adrian, what

happened?"

Avon glanced at her, then shrugged. "Apparently, my 'bodyguard' did not feel I was moving fast enough."

Servalan stepped to his side and warned in a very soft voice, "Remember, Avon. Janus knows nothing of your identities. Vila's life depends on your performance."

Avon stared at her momentarily, then gave her a slight nod. "Is...Varnet doing any better today?" he asked the physician.

Waiting for his cue to 'awaken', Vila was seething with anger. Varnets were creatures which inhabited the gutters and sewers of a dozen worlds. They were scum, vermin carried to new worlds by freighters and careless passenger vessels. The word was derived from an old Earth term 'varmit' and she dared use it on him?

Avon was angry, too, but he held himself in check. Now was the time to watch and wait. Later, he promised himself and the ghosts of his dead comrades. Once we're away from here, however, that will be a different matter.

Janus smiled warmly as he answered. "Yes, Adrian. He's doing much better. As I just told the Commissioner, he should be coming around very soon."

And that's my cue, Vila thought. Very slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around. "Where am I?" he moaned, sounding very bewildered and confused.

"It's all right, Varnet," Janus soothed. "You were hurt in the attack."

"Varnet? Attack?" Vila whimpered. "What attack?"

"On Gauda Prime, of course. I know, you're confused but your friend, Adrian here, will explain it to you when you feel better."

Vila looked really confused now. "Adrian?"

Servalan slipped behind Janus, out of Vila's sight and signalled him to proceed with the injection. The doctor caught Vila's eyes as he prepared the drug and he winked in acknowledgement.

Avon reacted immediately. "What is that?" he inquired, looking from the doctor to Servalan, then back to the doctor.

Janus phrased his answer carefully as he sent the narcotic into Vila's bloodstream, hoping Avon would understand. "It's a special vitamin mixture, Adrian. It will help his chances of survival."

"A vitamin mixture?" Avon repeated uneasily. Something was going on, something he was not aware of. But Janus had said it would help Vila. Controlling his fear, Avon gazed down at Vila, who seemed to be slipping back into sleep.

For Vila, it felt as if a trapdoor had opened beneath his feet and he was falling into a deep pit. It was very dark and cold where he was and he hoped he didn't have to stay there long. But what about Avon? Once he realised something was wrong, he might do something rash. Rash? Avon never did anything rash. What am I thinking of? he wondered. Then he remembered Janus' explanation. 'It will help his chances of survival.' Clever, Doctor, I hope clever enough to fool Servalan. Once Janus could get Avon alone, he would explain it to him. Damn, I hate this, thought Vila. Servalan is using me to keep Avon in check and I can't do anything to help him. There must be something I can do. Something. The word echoed around him as darkness enveloped his mind.

"I'd like to speak to Adrian alone, if you don't mind, Doctor," Servalan murmured after Vila had slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Of course, Commissioner," Janus replied with a worried glance in Avon's direction. "I'll be right outside."

#

As soon as the door closed, Servalan smiled and reached out to touch Vila but her hand was intercepted by another. "What have you done to him, Servalan?" Avon demanded angrily.

"Done?" she asked, feigning surprise. "I have done nothing."

"That special vitamin mixture. What was it?" Avon tightened his grip on her hand. "What was it?"

She eyes his hand coolly and he released her. "Just a little insurance, Avon. Nothing more. The doctor earnestly believes it is a vitamin mixture. Actually it is a rather rare variety of poison."

Servalan believed she had seen Avon angry before but she was wrong. He reached for her with both hands, ready to tear her throat out. "Kill me and Vila dies," she screamed as his hands found their mark around her throat and began to squeeze. "He...will...die, Avon." Abruptly, she was released and staggered back against the thief's bed.

"I should let you both die for that," she gasped, rubbing her throat where his fingers had dug in. It took her several minutes to regain her composure. Then Servalan smiled coldly. "But I won't. You know you reminded me of Tarrant just then, acting first without thinking. Not at all as you once were."

Avon had withdrawn to the far side of the room, his back turned, fists clenched at his sides as he sought control. "None of us are as we once were," he answered in a harsh voice. Then he turned back to face her, his face hard and cold. "You said insurance, Servalan. What kind of insurance can killing Vila offer?"

"None. I merely said he'd been given a poison, I did not say there was no antidote. And he will get it, every day for the rest of his life as long as you do as you're told."

Avon's glare would have rivaled a nova's as he looked at her. But the doctor's words kept echoing in his mind. 'It will help his chances of survival.' Janus must have known what it was. But had he gone ahead and given it to Vila or perhaps...ah, that was it. He had substituted something else. Something which was not deadly.

Servalan watched his face, noting how much Avon had changed since their first encounter so long ago. Before Blake's aura had destroyed the man she had come to admire and perhaps even love in her own way.

Avon forced himself to relax and walked back to stand beside Vila's bed. "All right, Servalan. But why this insurance? You already knew..."

"I knew you would cooperate, yes, Avon. But something has come up and I need more than your 'cooperation'. An agent of mine has learned that Captain Neville has decided I am acting treasonous by concealing both of your identities from my superiors. He plans to hand us over as soon as we reach Space Command Headquarters."

Avon smiled and she didn't like it one bit. "Yes, I thought that would be your feeling. That's why I needed the insurance. Shortly, Dr. Janus will discover that Vila's condition had begun to deteriorate and he requires immediate transport to the nearest Federation base."

Servalan paused, waiting for Avon to comment, but he didn't. "Since he was wounded while under my command, I wish to personally see to his well being and have granted your request to go along as my personal bodyguard."

Avon's smile deepened and Servalan felt a chill course down her spine. Somehow, she was loosing control of the situation. The knife was being twisted back against her. "My personal scout ship is standing by in the bay area."

The computer expert glanced at Vila. The thief seemed to be breathing very slowly, almost hesitantly. Avon checked his pulse. It was much weaker than it had been. "Get Janus in here first, Servalan. Then I'll help you."

With a smile, she moved to the door. "Dr. Janus, I think your patient needs you."

Janus entered, took one look at Avon's face and moved quickly to Vila's side, checking him. Avon stood back, silent as the man scanned his companion. Then Janus turned around to face Servalan, "I don't understand. He's had a complete relapse. The readings indicate imminent organ failure and there are dangerous levels of toxin in his blood."

He knew better, of course, but his examination had revealed that Vila's condition was slipping. The stress caused by the narcotic was imply too great on his weakened body. His system would not be able to hold up long under it.

"Then we must get him to the nearest Federation base for immediate treatment," Servalan said with mock concern. "What do you think, Adrian?"

"Yes," Avon agreed hurriedly. "We must leave as quickly as possible."

Servalan has told him of the poison, Janus thought to himself. He wished he could reassure Avon that he had not given it to Vila. But, he thought in bitter reflection, if the thief's condition continued to weaken, the result could well be the same as if he had.

"My scout ship is faster than this cruiser, Janus," Servalan explained. "And it is ready for immediate liftoff."

"Is it safe to move him?" Avon asked the doctor.

"He seems stable enough for now. But I think it would be safer if we placed him in life support."

Life support? Fear gripped Avon again. To have Vila back alive only to lose him again. No, he thought, that can't happen. I won't let that happen. "If the Commissioner will prepare her ship, I'll help you with Varnet, Doctor."

"Very good," Janus replied and went to a nearby room. A few minutes later, he returned with a portable life support chamber. Very carefully, he and Avon lifted the unconscious thief into it, then Janus activated the controls and checked the readings. Vila seemed to be hanging on. He glanced at Avon, wanting to tell him the truth but with Servalan so near, it was just too dangerous.

"My ship is ready," she announced, turning from the communications monitor. "And I've arranged for us to have direct access so our departure will create as few problems as necessary."

#

Guiding the chamber encasing Vila between them, the two men followed her out of the medical unit into the corridor. A squad of mutoids were waiting and escorted the party to the ship. No one else occupied the area of the ship except mutoids as they entered the hanger. A few terrified guards were huddled over to one side but did not interfere. Then a man stepped out and saluted Servalan.

"The communications have been crippled as per your instruction, Commissioner," the young officer stated.

"You have done well, Lieutenant. Very well," Servalan smiled, then nodded at a mutoid standing behind the office. A paragun went off and the young man died with a puzzled look on his face. Janus, startled by the suddenness of the killing, stared at her in shock. Servalan looked at him coldly. "You will be next, Dr. Janus, unless you follow my orders to the letter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I...I understand." The doctor didn't need to pretend to be afraid. He was terrified.

"Good. Get Vila loaded on the ship. Avon will help you." As the pair moved to obey, she added, "And don't try anything, Avon. Remember, I'm the only one who knows the composition of the antidote."

The look Avon gave her was anything but an acknowledgement but she took it as such as he activated the cargo lift. Sliding the chamber in, he and the doctor rode with it up into the ship. Janus started to speak but Avon motioned him quiet. Time enough for that later. Besides, Servalan had also entered the ship and was within earshot. They secured Vila in a small cabin off the main corridor, then walked up to the control room where Servalan was waiting for them.

"Doctor, I'm sure you will wish to stay near your patient."

He was dismissed and Janus knew it but as he turned to leave, Avon grabbed him by the arm. "What about the antidote, Servalan?"

She smiled and opened a small box which rested on the console in front of her. Within were eight tiny vials, each containing a pinkish coloured solution. "You see, I knew you would do it, Avon."

Grimly, Avon took one of the vials and handed it to the doctor. "See that he receives it immediately." Janus nodded and left.

With the doctor gone, Servalan motioned for Avon to take over the pilot's seat. "Well, shall we get out of here? Captain Neville has no doubt been notified and I want to be well clear of the ship when it explodes."

"Explodes?" Avon queried, taking in her smile. "Another unexplained accident, Servalan?"

"I'm saving our lives, Avon," she retorted angrily. "Don't make me regret it. Now get us out of here."

#

Twenty thousand spacials from the cruiser, Servalan activated a small black box mounted on the control console and looked back at the ship. The massive cruiser exploded into a million fragments of flying metal, some of which just missed the smaller vessel. "There now," she said softly. "Safe and sound, as I promised, and I always keep my promise."

"So do I," Avon replied flatly and again Servalan felt the cold chill run down her spine. "Where do we go from here?"

"There is a base located on Delva VI. You know it?"

Avon shook his head. "No. Is it far?" He asked for two reasons: one, he wanted to know how close it was to Earth and two, he wondered if the base would be likely to send anyone out to investigate the cruiser's disappearance.

"It should take us around twelve hours to get there," she told him. "The navigational coordinates are four--two--seven point six."

Avon adjusted the controls and let the autopilot do the rest, then he stood up and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked in a surprised tone.

"To check on Vila," he snapped and walked through the door. Servalan sighed, wondering if she had indeed made a mistake by not keeping Tarrant alive.

#

As soon as Janus returned to the cabin, he had removed Vila from the chamber and made him as comfortable as possible on one of the room's two bunks. The thief still seemed to be holding his own. Maybe they were going to make it after all and maybe Vila would survive to see it.

The door opened and Avon came in.

"How is he?" he asked, moving beside the doctor.

"Alive." The doctor looked up and took in Avon's worried face. "It's not what you think, Avon. I told Vila about the poison, Right after Servalan gave it to me, I had it analysed. I wouldn't use it on anyone, not even on her. So I substituted a narcotic. I explained it to Vila and he agreed."

Avon was relieved but he still was puzzled by Vila's condition. "If it's not the poison, then what is the matter with him?"

"It's the drug. It puts a tremendous strain on the body. Even a healthy body would find it taxing but Vila is very, very weak. I've tried to neutralise it but it's already too far into his system. He's holding on, Avon, but..."

"But what?"

"Unless we can get him to some competent base and get his system flushed, there is a very good chance he will die."

Avon frowned. "According to Servalan, there is a Federation base within twelve hours of here."

"Twelve hours might be too long," Janus said. "I'm sorry, Avon. I really am. I told Vila it was too dangerous but he said it was the only way we could fool Servalan."

"He was probably right," Avon acknowledged. "Anything less and Servalan would have suspected something."

The doctor knelt down beside the empty life support chamber and opened the bottom storage compartment. He removed a small hand blaster and handed it to Avon. "I acquired this before we left. Thought you might need it."

Avon examined it. "Small but effective, thank you."

"There's something else. Vila said it was very important I bring it," Janus continued, lifting a metal case out of the compartment. "I had one devil of a time smuggling it past the guards."

Avon took the case from him and opened it. "Orac!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Where did you find it?"

"One of the men who brought Vila to the ship said it was left behind on the transport. He said Servalan was very upset. It seems when you and the others were searched, they couldn't find the control."

"Key," Avon corrected with a sigh. "Without it, Orac is useless."

A faint whimper interrupted their conversation and the two men hurried over to Vila. The thief opened his eyes very slowly and this time, it was not an act. He was bewildered and confused.

"A...Avon, what happened?" Vila asked weakly, looking at him through fuzzy eyes. "Where are we?"

"We're in Servalan's personal scoutship," Avon answered him. "How do you feel?"

"Kind of weak," the thief responded, trying to focus his eyes. Then he recognised Janus and smiled. "We fooled her, didn't we?"

Janus forced himself to smile back. "Yes, Vila, we fooled her. But...."

"But," Avon interrupted, his eyes silencing the doctor, "you need to rest, Vila. Congratulations can wait."

Vila looked from Avon to the doctor, then back to Avon and knew something was wrong. "What is it? What's the matter?" he asked in a frightened voice.

Avon sat down on the bunk next to him and gazed deep into the thief's eyes before answering. "Dr. Janus said he warned you of the drug's possible danger."

Vila nodded slowly, then realisation began to dawn in his mind. "I'm not going to make it, am I?" he asked softly.

"The narcotic is placing a severe strain on your system. That's why you feel weak. Your condition is serious, but it's not hopeless." Avon tried to sound confident, to reassure Vila but the thief only smiled.

"You know, you wouldn't last a day as a Delta grade, Avon," he murmured gently. His eyes wandered about the room, past Janus to rust on Orac. "Good, you found him."

Avon followed his gaze and nodded. "For all the good it is. Without the key, Orac is no use to us, you know that." But the thief was grinning and Avon noticed. "Vila, you're hiding something. What is it?'

Vila's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Who me?"

Avon frowned and asked again, this time his voice distinctly threatening. "Vila, what are you hiding?"

His eyes twinkled mischievously. "All right, Avon, all right. No need to get upset. Where's my pocket kit? I asked the doc to bring it."

"It's right here, Vila." Janus reached back into the chamber and brought out a small leather pouch. Avon took it from him. Inside the leather casing was a very familiar piece — Orac's key.

Avon was clearly surprised. "How did you gut it? I had it when we landed in the hangar before..." Avon's voice trailed off.

Vila saw the pain in his friends eyes and hurriedly drew his mind away from the memory. "When the guards finally brought you down, you had to land on something soft. Me. Felt like a ton of bricks crashing on me like you did. Anyway, when I opened my eyes, Orac's key was lying right next to my hand. Couldn't move too much with you on top of me but I did manage to get it out of sight. Then I must have passed out again." The thief looked puzzled. "I wonder why Servalan didn't search me?"

"She knew I wouldn't entrust Orac to an idiot," Avon replied automatically.

"Some idiot," Vila shot back. "I got us off the ship, didn't I? I had the doc get Orac, didn't I? I hid Orac's key and kept it safe, didn't I?"

"Yes," Avon conceded in a patient voice. "You did." He looked at the thief intently and added, "Sometimes, Vila, I wonder who you really are. A fool or someone who merely acts the part of one."

Perhaps that struck too close to home because Vila looked suddenly uncomfortable. Then a spasm rippled across his face, not of pain but a foreboding warning of something to come.

"Please, Vila," Dr. Janus pleaded. "You must rest now."

"All right, I'll try." But as Vila obediently started to close his eyes, he paused. "Avon, is Servalan still with us?"

His companion studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, but only for a short time. Get some rest, Vila."

The thief whispered, "Be careful," then closed his eyes.

Janus sighed. "He's asleep." Turning to Avon, he asked, "Why did you tell him? The shock could have killed him."

"I will not lie to him, Doctor, nor should you," Avon replied quietly. "Vila is no fool. Or haven't you noticed?"

The communicator on the cabin's wall beckoned. "Avon? Avon, I wish to see you immediately," Servalan's voice called.

Avon's face grew cold as he stepped past Janus to reply. "And I wish to see you, Servalan," he answered in a tight voice.

"Good. I shall meet you in the lounge area," came her response. The communicator clicked off.

"What are you going to do?" Janus asked though he was fairly sure of Avon's intentions.

"Stay here and take care of Vila. I won't be long."

Janus laid a hand on Avon's arm as the other man stepped towards the door and said, "Be careful."

Avon looked at the doctor and smiled. "I always am."

#

Servalan's quarters on board the scoutship were obviously well furnished for her needs because when he arrived, she had changed into a long white gown, trimmed with black sequins and was relaxing on a large, plush couch, sipping a drink. "You found Vila well?" she asked, smiling.

Avon's expression gave nothing away. "He is alive but far from well, Servalan. Janus said the poison is taxing his system severely. He needs immediate hospitalisation."

"And he shall have it," she answered calmly. "As soon as we reach Delva VI. Don't worry about your friend, Avon. He's of more value to me alive than dead."

"You said you wanted to see me," Avon inquired. "What about?"

"Must I have a reason?" she returned, standing up and moving beside him. "Now that we will be working together, can we not become friends, Avon?"

"Friends?" For all Avon's control, the word exploded from his lips like a curse and Servalan stepped back in alarm.

"Yes, friends!" she fired back and returned to the couch. "Sit down, Avon. You look uncomfortable."

"Shouldn't I be?" he inquired, cocking an eyebrow, but he did not sit down. "I had agreed to help you, Servalan. But you had to make certain of my 'loyalty'. And there was only one way for you to do that, wasn't there? By poisoning my friend." There, he'd said it now, and he was not ashamed of it. Vila was his friend, his only friend now, and Avon suddenly realised how much that friendship meant to him.

"Avon. I really can't believe I'm talking to the same man I've sparred with so often. The same man who I thought was my intellectual equal." Avon smiled at her comment but it was a heartless smile.

"No," she continued. "I made a mistake in keeping you alive. You or Restal. Tarrant, I might have had a chance with but you, no. You've changed too much. You've become Blake. Did you realise that? You're him all over again, perhaps worse."

"If I am Blake, as you put it," Avon retorted, "then it is your fault I am still alive."

Servalan grew angry. "I don't need to be reminded of that, Avon. What a fool you've become!" She caught herself. Getting angry would accomplish nothing. She moved back beside him, looked into his eyes and sighed. "Let's not quarrel, Avon," she purred seductively. "We can still go ahead with my plans. Dispose of Restal and Dr. Janus. Then it would be just the two of us. There would be no evidence. No one to connect us to the past."

"Simply space them, is that what you're suggesting?" Avon inquired, his eyes beginning to burn. "Like you let your men do to the prisoners from Gauda Prime? Like you ordered done to Tarrant, Dayna and Soolin? As you have no doubt done to numerous others?"

Servalan found herself trapped by his eyes. A helpless bird paralysed by the eyes of a serpent. She could not move as his hand moved around her waist and pulled her closer while the other brought out a small weapon and laid it against her throat.

He caressed the side of her neck with the blaster's cold barrel. "No, Servalan," he whispered harshly. "Not this time."

"What are you going to do?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Something that should have been done long ago," he answered and forced her towards the doorway. "We're going for a little walk. You and I."

With the weapon pressed against the side of her throat, Avon guided her to the ship's airlock. Servalan froze as she saw it, then spun free to face him. "You're insane, Avon. Without the antidote, Vila will die. You're condemning him to death."

"No," he answered, his tone curiously void of emotion. "I am granting him peace, Servalan." He grabbed hold of her arm, opened the airlock and pushed her in.

Servalan caught her balance and ran for the door but it slammed shut as she reached it. "Avon, you can't do this," she cried, pounding madly with her fists on the glass window of the door. "You know you can't."

"Can't I?" his voice echoed from the wall communicator. "Watch me." His hand reached for the control and Servalan screamed.

#

The door to the cabin slid open and Avon, looking pale and exhausted, walked in and sat down on the unoccupied bunk. Janus left Vila's side. "It's done, then?" the doctor asked.

Avon stared down at his hands and nodded. "Yes, it's done. Neither President Servalan nor Commissioner Sleer will be heard of again."

Then he glanced over at Vila. "Any change?"

"No," the doctor murmured. "Avon, there must be somewhere close we can take him."

Avon noted the concerned expression on the doctor's face. "You've grown to like him."

Janus looked back at the thief before responding. "Vila is a very easy person to like, Avon."

"I know," he conceded. "I came to fetch Orac. If there is anyplace closer, Orac will find it. That is, unless you think you need him here."

"No. Everything I could do, I've done." The doctor rubbed his tired eyes. "I know I've said it before, but I wish there was something else I could do."

"Vila knew the risks, Janus." As did we all, he thought to himself, getting to his feet.

"Blaming yourself will change nothing," Avon continued. Besides, it reminded him too much of someone else. "Why not try and get some rest yourself?"

Janus nodded absent-mindedly but made no move towards the other bunk. Instead he returned to his vigil at Vila's side. Avon stared at them for a moment, then gathered up Orac and left.

#

Avon went straight to the control cabin and checked the controls. The ship was still on autopilot bound for Delva VI. He placed Orac on the chair next to him, inserted the key and the computer buzzed to life. "Welcome back, Orac."

"Welcome back? Back from where? I don't understand," came the irate reply.

"Never mind that," Avon answered sharply. "I want you to tie into the Federation Central Computer and locate the nearest medical facility."

"I take it by the tone of your voice expediency is required?" inquired the computer sarcastically.

"Yes," Avon snapped. He sat back in the seat and closed his eyes. So much had happened in the last few days. So much. Weariness finally claimed him and Avon fell into a deep sleep.

#

The passage was dark, dark and cold. Someone was holding a light at the other end, calling his name. Avon started running towards the light, then his feet disappeared from under him. Arms flailing about, he snagged what felt like a piece of rock and held onto it. Pits. There were deep pits everywhere. Once false move and he was finished. He didn't know how he knew they were there, he just knew they were.

The voice at the end of the passage sounded desperate now and Avon pulled himself out of the hole and staggered forward. Closer now, the voice so familiar but he could not put a name to it. A shape holding a light, that's all he could see as he struggled on, feeling his way carefully. Almost there. "I'm coming," he shouted, "I'm coming."

He was not more than a dozen steps from the figure when the light was suddenly quenched. Dropped into total darkness, Avon came to a dead stop, uncertain if he should go on or what he should do. Damn it. Where was the light? Where had it gone?

Suddenly, the light was back. But it seemed to be coming from behind him. He whirled around. Sure enough the light was now at the other end of the passage. A figure was standing there, but it looked different, smaller somehow. "Avon," it called. "This way. Come this way." The voice was female and Avon recognised it. Servalan. But Servalan was dead. What...ah, she's trying to lure me into one of the pits, he thought. To kill me.

"You cannot fool me, Servalan," he yelled at her. The figure screamed angrily and the light disappeared, plunging him back into darkness.

Avon waited, not knowing which to expect next. A glow as blazing as a sun flared up behind him and a deep voice beckoned to him. So familiar that voice but who... A name came to mind. Blake? Could it be? "Blake?" he shouted, twisting around. "Blake, is that you?"

"Avon, why did you kill me?" the figure asked sadly. "Why?"

Avon's voice trembled. "It was an accident, Blake. An accident, really. I...I didn't mean to kill you. I didn't mean to. I didn't...I didn't...." He fell to his knees pleading for the other man to understand.

Orac's voice shattered the nightmare. "I now have the information you requested," advised the computer.

Avon's eyes flew open. Sweat was running down his face and his hands were shaking. A dream, he told himself, it was only a dream but the pain in Blake's voice had sounded so real. He closed his eyes again, taking deep breaths to ease the pounding of his heart and waited for his hands to stop shaking. Then he looked at the glowing box on the opposite seat and said in a nearly normal voice, "Proceed."

"In checking Federation records, I have located what appears to be a restricted research medical base."

"How long would it take us to get there?"

"At this vessel's maximum speed," Orac replied disgustedly, "I estimate four and one—half hours."

Avon switched on the intership comm. "Janus, this is Avon. Orac has located something closer but it will still take us four and one-half hours."

The doctor's voice was strained as he answered. "There's nothing closer?"

"According to Orac, no."

"Then it will have to do," Janus murmured gloomily.

"Why? What's happened?" Avon was almost afraid to ask.

"Total renal failure. I had to cannibalize the life support unit to build a makeshift dialysis machine," the doctor told him. "Avon, he hasn't much time left."

"I know." Avon shut down the connection and closed his eyes to hide his pain even though there was no one there to see it. "Orac, you're sure there's nothing closer?"

"Of course," responded the computer. But for possibly the first time since his creation, Orac was wrong.

#

An hour after informing Avon of the base, a warning device went off in the cabin. "Detectors have picked up a large vessel on a direct intercept course," Orac informed him.

"I can see that," Avon shouted, his hands flying across the ship's controls, releasing the autopilot.

Using every trick he knew including a few he remembered learning from Jenna and Tarrant, Avon tried to shake their pursuer but to no avail. The other vessel matched his maneuvers with ease. "Can you identify the other ship?" he asked the computer.

"Negative. Vessel does not conform with any regulation starship design listed in Federation records." A pause. Then, "We are being scanned," Orac announced. The scoutship shuddered and indicators on the control panel began flashing. "All engines have ceased functioning. I detect some sort of..."

The computer's light faded. "Orac?" Avon yelled. "Orac?" Whatever had closed down the engines had done the same to Orac.

A shadow crossed the viewport and Avon gasped. The vessel was as large if not larger than the Liberator, its design unlike anything Avon had seen before. It glided to within a short distance of the scoutship, then began rotating slowly. Avon studied the vessel for some kind of marking, anything to indicate its origin but saw nothing. The reason for its strange action soon became evident as the dark outline of a landing bay came into view. Whoever it was planned to take the smaller vessel aboard. And without engines, escape was impossible. There was nothing else for Avon to do but to leave the control cabin and warn Janus.

#

Avon opened the cabin door and stepped inside. Forewarned as he had been, Vila's condition still shocked him. The thief seemed to have shrunk in size, dwarfed by the machine which was now doing the job of his non—functioning kidneys. His colour was bad and his breathing seemed laboured. Long tubes warm connected to both arms as blood flowed from one tubs through the machine and back to the body via the other tubs. Janus' attention was riveted to monitoring the device, then he glanced up and saw Avon. "What? The engines have stopped. Are we there?" he asked hopefully.

"No. There's been a delay. An unknown ship has closed down both the engines and Orac." A slight tremor want through the scoutship and threw them off balance for a moment. Tractor beam, Avon thought. "I'm going to investigate. Here, take these and stay with Vila." Avon handed him the small hand blaster and a portable communicator.

"But what about you?" Janus protested. "You'll need a weapon."

"I have one. Servalan left it in my care," Avon told him. "Keep this door closed and locked. I'll be back." With that, he stepped outside the cabin and waited until Janus locked the door.

#

It took Avon ten seconds to gut to the airlock. Cautiously, he drew his gun and peered inside. Empty. Avon slipped in and sealed the door behind him. Light streamed in through the outer hatch but his eyes could detect no movement from outside the ship.

The external atmospheric monitor was flashing a steady green. That meant the area outside the ship contained an environment acceptable for humanoid life. Then whoever or whatever is controlling the ship is either humanoid, Avon thought, or knows we are. He opened the door and looked out. A well-lit hangar greeted his eyes and he slipped silently from the doorway into the shadow of the scoutship.

The hangar proved to be immense and could easily have handled a ship the size of Scorpio. But there were no other vessels present, only the scoutship. Avon spied a lighted corridor at one end and headed for it.

He poked his head warily through the open doorway. All clear. No sign of anyone or anything. As he stepped into the corridor, a mechanical voice inquired, "Direction required?"

Avon whirled, seeking the source of the voice, but found none. Computer controlled? he wondered, answering, "Flight deck."

"Please follow beacon," intoned the mechanical voice, and a narrow grey strip running lengthwise along the sides of the corridor began pulsing with light.

Avon's senses screamed trap, but what choice did he have? Reason told him there was none. He looked back towards the scoutship, unsure if he should call Janus, then decided against it. Janus might try something stupid. No, it was better that he stayed with Vila.

With his weapon in hand, he walked in the direction indicated by the glowing line on the wall. The winding corridor reminded Avon of the first time he had come on board the Liberator with Blake and Jenna and their narrow escape with the ship's defense mechanism. The memory made him uneasy. There was no Blake with him this time should he encounter anything like that, no—one to keep him from killing himself.

Several times he crossed other corridors but always they darkened as he tried to enter them, forcing him back. Something was driving him to the flight deck but what and why. The deeper into the ship he went, the tenser Avon grew and his grip on the blaster tightened until his knuckles were white.

"Destination achieved," announced the mechanical voice suddenly, and Avon found himself standing at the entrance to what had to be the command centre of the ship.

Despite the size of the vessel, its flight deck was less than half the size of the Liberator's which a large viewscreen occupying the forward wall. An empty starfield lay illuminated on it.

To the left of the screen, a massive multi—coloured panel flickered like sunlight on precious stones as instructions were received and passed on to other parts of the ship. Avon could feel the ship respond under his feet to the unspoken commands. A totally computerised ship? Another Liberator? He had never been one to believe in luck. And somehow this seemed too unreal. Too unbelievable.

His gaze drifted over the rest of the flight deck, noting a small couch with two adjacent cushion chairs which faced the viewscreen. Ah, not totally automated if those were present. Such furnishings would not be necessary on a computerised vessel. And Avon's nerves began to tighten again.

He continued his inspection of the flight deck, crossing to the far side to examine what appeared to be a communications device. He reached out and experimentally flipped a switch. At once, a wide variety of Federation transmissions began coming in. Avon listened intently for a moment, then switched it off. Whoever was running this vessel had obviously been monitoring, perhaps even transmitting to the Federation. The thought made him very uneasy. A ship like this in the Federation's hands could...

His train of thought was broken as his eyes came to rest on a set of controls which lay almost hidden to one side of the communications panel. They were different, out of place with the rest. The elegant symmetry of automation was missing. He moved over for a closer look. Manual controls and obviously for someone humanoid. A quick study indicated there was nothing unusual or very different to understand about them. On the upper left section of the panel, a small yellow light pulsed softly drawing his attention. Its location on the console would suggest it was the main drive control. Avon's eyes widened in surprise. "Interstellar drive? Marvelous!"

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" called a voice behind him.

Avon spun around, firing instinctively and barely missed Blake who dropped with a loud thud to the floor. Carefully, the rebel leader raised his head, a surprised look on his face. "I would have thought that time on Horizon would have been enough, Avon," Blake said, wryly. "Even for you."

Avon froze, the colour draining from his face. As Blake got up and walked over to him, Avon's weapon slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare at the apparition as it approached him. Finally in a trembling voice, he asked, "Blake?" and collapsed in the other man's arms.

#

Blake studied Avon's unconscious form on the couch. God, he looks terrible, he thought. What's happened to him? Blake wondered as he walked over to the scanner and checked the ship in Hangar no. 4. It still read two life forms, but one signal seemed weaker than before. The message he had intercepted indicated a person on board was seriously injured which might account for it. But the reading indicated something else. It indicated someone was dying and Blake grew uneasy. Who was it? Only Avon would be able to tell him that.

The person in question stirred and opened his eyes to find Blake standing over him with a concerned look on his face. What kind of trick is this? Avon thought as he tried to sit up. The attempt failed miserably and it took him several minutes to regain control over his shaking body. Blake reached to help him but Avon stared at him with such obvious fear that the other man changed his mind and retreated to a nearby chair.

Avon's second attempt proved successful and as he sat up, he let his hand drop to his holster. Puzzlement crossed his face. His weapon had not been taken. He glanced across at the being who sat watching him. Why of all people had it assumed Blake's form? True, he was the last person he would expect and he had been startled by it. And yet, Avon pondered, Horizon, it had mentioned Horizon.

Blake, in turn, studied his companion. Avon had changed, changed drastically. But for the better or worse? Was he now in league with Servalan and therefore, his enemy? No, Blake could not believe that and yet what was he doing on board her ship? And why had Avon tried to kill him? Where was the Liberator and the others? Surely, Cally and Vila would not have willingly joined Servalan. There were so many questions he had to ask, so much he wanted to know, but the first move could not be his. It had to be Avon's.

"Who are you?" Avon demanded, his hand moving to rest lightly next to his holster. "And why have you taken us prisoner?"

"Prisoner? Avon," Blake began, "I don't know what's happened to you but...."

Avon's eyes narrowed. "You did not answer my question. Who are you?"

"Who do I look like? Damn it, Avon," Blake said in an exasperated tone. "If you've changed sides, say so. There's no need for this act between us."

"Act? You accuse me of that?" Avon exclaimed, hit eyes flashing. "Roj Blake is dead. Why do you keep up this facade?"

Blake stared back at him, the surprise and shock so real in his face that Avon almost believed it. "Who told you that?"

Avon paled visibly as he answered. "Blake was killed on Gauda Prime several days ago. I know, I was there." And the memory of his part in it started Avon shaking again.

Blake was thoroughly confused now. Whatever Avon had seen had clearly convinced him of his death. How can I convince him otherwise? he asked himself. He looked at Avon and saw a myriad of emotions cross his face; fear, despair, horror and guilt. Guilt for what, Blake wondered.

"Avon, I've never been on Gauda Prime," Blake told him. "In fact, I've only just returned to Federation space."

Avon stared at him incredulously, but his curiosity had been piqued. "Go on."

Blake eyed him carefully, then began. "After Jenna and I left the Liberator and were picked up, the vessel was attacked by a lone Andromedan warship. It seems the Andromedan captain did not plan to return home without some type of booty and we were it. Most of the crew were killed but Jenna and I and a few others were captured and taken back to Andromeda. Souvenirs of the campaign.

"But instead of the victorious welcome he expected, the captain found that there had been changes since he had left. A benign, civilian group had taken control of the government and the military had been outlawed and disbanded. There was to be no more interstellar war or acts of aggression. They were through with that. The oneness which their agents had spoken of on Star One no longer existed.

"The captain was forced to surrender us to the new government. Then he was hauled off under guard. Seems he had a list of atrocities committed against other races in their system. A Travis of their galaxy. Anyway, we were treated very courteously and offered a chance to return home. Naturally, Jenna and I accepted."

"Naturally," Avon interrupted in a sarcastic voice. A Federation agent could come up with something more plausible than this, the computer expert thought. He must think me a fool.

"Damn it, Avon," Blake thundered. "I'm trying to explain how I could not have been on Gauda Prime. The least you can do is listen with an open mind. Whatever happened to your objectivity?"

Avon glared at him and his hand reached for his weapon. "Whoever you are, you do not know me as well as you believe."

Blake sighed. "Obviously, if every time I say something you don't like, you reach for that." He pointed to Avon's blaster. "Your mind was always enough of a weapon, Avon. What's changed you? What happened on Gauda Prime?"

"Nothing," Avon answered a shade too quickly, looking away from Blake's intense gaze. Then, "You said the Andromedans had decided to help you."

Blake hesitated, his eyes growing moist. "Yes. Jenna and I met with their leaders as soon as possible to work out the details. We were leaving the Quorum Building when someone darted out from behind a statue and pointed a weapon at us. Not at the leaders, just at us. Jenna reacted before I could. My wound had become infected on board the Andromedan ship and I was still rather weak. She pushed me aside only to catch the blast herself. Jenna was dead before I could reach her." And tears ran unchecked down his face.

He must have studied Blake's profile very closely, Avon thought, very closely indeed to have his emotions down so well. But the remark about Horizon still bothered him. There was no way anyone but the crew of the Liberator could know about that.

Blake stood up and wiped his eyes, the movement drawing an instant response from Avon, but Blake ignored him. "I have no idea why he wanted to kill us and never found out," he murmured. "The would-be assassin was killed an instant after he attacked us by one of the guards. They have a weapon unlike anything I've ever seen. It fires a ball of concentrated energy. It literally cremated him."

"A weapon like that one?" Avon asked, pointing at the device hanging from Blake's belt.

Blake followed Avon's eyes. "Yes. Like this." Very carefully, Blake detached the weapon and set it on the table in front of his companion, then turned to face the viewscreen. Avon watched him, his face masked in that impassiveness Blake had know before. There was no longer fear in his eyes, but there was no recognition in them either.

"A pacifist government which still felt the need of bodyguards?" Avon questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

"There were still radical members of the military faction at large, Avon. In any case, they believed Jenna and I were the targets, not themselves. That's one reason why they wanted us to leave. We were the aliens there and they had sworn to have no contact with aliens. That's why they wanted us to go as quickly as possible and that is how I acquired this ship. I've named it the SECOND CHANCE."

Just the sort of nonsensical title Blake would give a vessel, Avon thought. Then he caught himself. But this is not Blake. Blake was dead. Dead by his hand on Gauda Prime.

"Sort of reminds me of the Liberator," Blake was saying. "98% of it is run by computer. The other 2% is made up from the human or alien, as the case may be, crew. I have made a few modifications here and there. No teleport yet but I expect with both of us working on it, it won't take long to construct one."

Avon frowned, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Assuming you can convince me of your identity, that is."

Blake had spoken without thinking, his careless remark aggravating an already dangerous situation. There had to be some way of convincing Avon he was telling the truth but how. "I was given a choice of any vessel still operational. This ship was one of the last to return from the invasion armada so I chose it. After all, I would need interstellar drive to get back to Federation space and only the armada ships had it."

"After two months' training in basic operation procedures, I was told politely to leave. I was a danger to the new government and they wanted me away as soon as possible. The coordinates were already computed and at soon as the ship was provisioned, I left."

Blake paused, remembering how surprised he'd been when the ship's computer informed him it would take eleven months to regain his system. It had seemed an eternity when he and Jenna had been prisoners.

"You claim you just returned to Federation space," Avon queried. "And you just happened to come across Servalan's ship."

"No, I didn't just happen to," Blake said patiently. "As soon as I was within range, I began monitoring all transmissions. After all, I had no idea what had happened since Star One was destroyed or if the Federation still existed." His face became puzzled. "Tell me, Avon, why did the rebellion fail? Surely, there was enough chaos caused by the station's destruction to shake up the governmental controls."

"There was," Avon mused, remembering. "But without the proper leadership, the leaders of the various factions began fighting each other instead of Servalan. Your noble cause died the fool's death it desired.

Blake smiled and turned to look at him. "My cause? I thought you said I was dead?"

Avon's face grew cold. "You still have not answered how you came across Servalan's ship."

"No, I haven't, have I?" Blake replied, returning to his seat. "A few hours ago, I picked up a transmission. It sounded like Servalan, though she was using another name, advising the Federation Base on Delva VI that she was on a Priority One mission of mercy. That I could not believe, She claimed to have three passengers with her, her bodyguard, a Dr. Janus and a patient who was in need of immediate medical attention."

Avon suddenly wondered about Vila and glanced at his chronometer. It had only been thirty minutes since he'd come on board though it seemed hours.

Blake saw Avon's face change, become worried as he checked the time. "Avon, what is it? Who is it that's hurt?'

The computer expert stared at him for a long time before answering. "Vila. He was badly wounded on Gauda Prime."

"Vila?" Blake echoed. "But what about Cally?" The bleak look on Avon's face gave him the answer. Cally was dead. "Avon, tell me what happened on Gauda Prime?"

Avon did not speak and his eyes would not meet Blake's. Then the portable communicator on his belt beckoned and a voice said anxiously, "Avon? Avon, are you all right?"

"Yes, Janus," Avon responded. "What is it?"

"Thank goodness. I was beginning to think something had happened to you," Janus said, relieved. "Vila has come to. He's asking for you. I tried to tell him..."

"I'll be right there," Avon interrupted and broke the connection, If Vila had to die it would not be as Cally had. Alone.

"You mean we'll be right there," Blake amended, getting to his feet. "I'm coming with you."

Avon's gun was in his hand before the other man could move. Blake stared at him and threw up his hands. "Look, Avon," he said, exasperated. "I realize you've been through something terrible, something you don't want to talk about, but so have I."

Blake pointed at Avon's gun and said defiantly, "If you're going to kill me, get it over with. Otherwise, I'm going to see Vila." With that, he turned and stomped off the flight deck. Avon stared after him in surprise, then swore and ran after him.

#

Blake held himself to a walk, fully aware that Avon was coming up behind him. His first impulse had been to run for the smaller ship but that might well have gotten him killed, in view of Avon's strange behaviour. It took them three minutes to get to the hangar area. Another few steps and they stood outside the smaller vessels airlock.

"You first," Avon ordered coldly. "And don't try anything."

Blake sighed and opened the door. Avon motioned him inside, then followed, securing the door behind him. Once on board, Avon did not speak again but guided Blake in the right direction by jabbing him in the back with his gun. Blake was just about ready to take that gun away from him when a man stepped into the hall ahead of them.

"Who are you?" Janus cried, looking tense and nervous, the blaster in his hand shaking. Then he caught sight of Avon behind Blake and relaxed.

"I take it you're Dr. Janus?" Blake inquired.

"Yes," he replied, then stepped back into the cabin as he heard a faint voice.

Blake was one step behind him and froze inside the door. Vila was lying on a bunk connected by tubes to a strange-looking device. He was pale and grew even paler when he saw the man standing near the doorway. "Who...who are you?" the thief whimpered.

Blake looked at him perturbed. "Vila, don't tell me you don't know me either?"

He sounds like Blake, Vila thought. Looks like him, too. No, I must be delirious. He can't be him. Blake is dead. Avon killed him.

Avon slipped into the room, motioning Blake away from the door, then moved to the thief's side, his weapon still trained on Blake. "Vila, are you all right?"

"I am now you're here," Vila murmured softly. "Avon, who's that? I mean I know who he looks like, but he can't be him. He's dead." Then in a puzzled tone, he added, "Isn't he?"

Avon ignored the thief's questions. Instead he laid a hand on Vila's forehead and felt the fever burning there. "Why aren't you resting?" he scolded.

"I have been resting. Besides, what does it matter anyway?" the thief mumbled, instantly regretting his words as he saw the pain flash through Avon's eyes.

Blake was shocked at Vila's condition. Avon had said Vila had been badly wounded but... The scanner had not lied, he realised. Vila was dying. And with that realisation, Blake felt a helplessness he had not felt before. Of all my companions, only these two are left, he thought. And one is dying and the other won't believe who I am.

Avon glanced at Blake, contemplating the story he'd been told. It was impossible, of course. The man had to be a fraud. But another part of his mind argued that Blake had often accomplished the impossible. What if it was true? What if the man standing before him was Blake and Avon had not killed him? Who was it then he had killed?

Janus looked at the computer expert uneasily. "Avon, while you were gone and Vila was asleep, I...I searched Servalan's cabin. I know you told me to stay in the cabin," he said quickly before Avon could interrupt. "But I thought I might be able to find something, something which might help." The anger in Avon's face was plain. Janus had been given an order and he'd disobeyed. The doctor retreated a few steps from him in fear.

Then Vila laughed softly, snapping the tension. "He's not mad at you, Doc. He's just upset that he didn't think of doing that himself." Avon's cold glare was turned on the thief who countered with a childish grin. "Admit it, Avon," Vila teased. "You didn't think of it, did you?"

"I had other things on my mind," Avon growled, still frowning. But the anger was gone from his face. "What did you find?"

"These." Janus handed three conscript disks to Avon. "They were in the bottom drawer of her desk."

There were no identification inserts, no ciphering of any kind on the disks to give a clue as to their contents as Avon examined them. He looked up to see the doctor staring curiously at Blake.

"Who is he?" Janus inquired.

"I don't know," Avon responded flatly. "But he cannot be what he appears, that is for certain. Roj Blake is dead." There was no need to tell Janus that. He had seen the bloodstained corpse when it was brought on board the cruiser. Avon went on, "Watch him while I scan these. If he moves, kill him."

Janus nodded, a grim look on his face as he brought his blaster to bear on the other man. Still, he felt the need to say, "Avon, I'm a doctor. I've never killed anyone before."

Avon looked at him and smiled coldly. "It's very easy. You just point the gun and pull the trigger. Even Vila is capable of doing it."

"Capable?" the thief exclaimed, outraged. "I'll have you know..."

"I told you to rest," Avon ordered as he sat down at the desk computer console and activated it.

"PROJECT DOPPELGANGER - CLEARANCE CODE AAA3," the viewscreen read. Then a strange creature appeared on the screen. Avon froze the picture, studying the image. For some reason, it strongly reminded him of those large, hairy aliens that Vila was always going on about. Four powerful looking arms radiated from the sides of the torso, each arm ending in three clawed fingers. Two thick legs, if they could be called that, held the body a scant 8 to 12 inches off the ground. Avon could find no other distinguishable feature n the creature nor any sensory organs. The entire being was covered in long, shaggy gray fur. All in all, a very strange looking creature.

"Slizsman," the narrator continued. "Male. Identity confirmed as one Gemal. Intelligence Level comparable to Earth Beta Grade. Sentenced to life on Penal Colony Cygnus Alpha for illegal distribution of controlled substance. Sentence commuted to service in captioned project by order of Commissioner Sleer." Avon sensed a movement in the cabin and looked up. Blake was walking over to Vila. Janus' blaster followed his movements but he did not fire. The man is worse than useless, Avon thought. His eyes strayed to Blake and again, Avon wished it were possible. That this was Blake. That he was alive. Then he shook his head. Enough of a fool's dream, he told himself and went back to scanning the information on the screen.

#

Vila studied the man beside him. He looked like Blake, the same features he'd seen countless times before, although there was no misshapen eye, no terrible scar running down his face as he had seen on Gauda Prime. But it couldn't be him, Avon never missed and even if he did, he couldn't have from that close. No, it couldn't be him. It couldn't be. But Vila had to be certain. "Blake?"

Blake smiled at the thief, trying to hide his worry. "Rest now, Vila," he murmured softly. "Don't worry. Everything will be all right."

But Vila knew everything couldn't be all right. "But...but," he stammered in a frightened voice. "You...you're dead. I know you're dead. You can't be him." The thief's voice seemed to falter and Blake stepped closer.

"Vila, I don't know who you and Avon saw but it wasn't me." He paused looking at Avon whose eyes were focused on the console. "I've never been to Gauda Prime."

A frail touch of his hand drew his attention as Vila reached out seeking physical proof that he was not dreaminq. Blake took the thief's hand tightly, then moved his hand up to Vila's wrist to check his pulse. It was weak and there were shadows forming around his eyes that Blake had seen too often not to recognise.

"Blake?" came the frightened voice again. "Please be Blake." It was not a cry of despair but a plea for truth. "Avon is going to need someone. Someone he can trust." Vila's eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment, then grew clear again. "He needs you, Blake. Very badly. Do you know how long we've been searching?"

"I know, Vila," Blake replied gently. "I know."

"He needs your strength, Blake," Vila continued. "I tried to help him. Really I did...after Cally died. But not strong enough. Sometimes I...I wish that I had died instead of Cally. She could always reach him more than I could." He gasped a little and Blake felt his hand tighten its grip as the thief struggled to keep control.

"Vila, forget about it," Blake pleaded. "You must not tire yourself."

"It doesn't matter," came the faint reply. "Trust. That's what he needs again, Blake's trust. I thought he trusted me, at least...I hoped he did. I trusted him...even...even after Malodaar."

"Malodaar?" Blake echoed and wondered at the quiver in the thief's body as he said the word, then pushed the thought aside. "You must conserve your strength." But an idea was forming in Blake's mind. On board the SECOND CHANCE, in the rejuv chamber, Vila might have a chance, but how could he convince Avon to let him take him there?

And Vila would not be quiet. He knew time was running out and he had to make Blake, if it really was Blake, understand. "He's been through hell looking for you, Blake," the thief told him, his tone suddenly angry. "Nearly drove him crazy." A shudder coursed through Vila's body and his voice shook with the effort to get the words out. "You have to help him, Blake. Promise me you'll help him..." His strength was almost gone. "Promise?"

Blake's eyes filled with tears. "I promise, Vila. I promise."

Vila smiled contentedly then, withdrawing his hand from Blake's to wipe a tear from the other man's face. "I'm glad you came back," he whispered. "I'm glad you're not dead..." His eyes clouded over again. But this time, a glaze seemed to settle over them. The shadows began moving across his face.

And Blake would wait no longer. Vila had to be taken to his ship now. Under the startled eyes of the doctor, he disconnected the equipment, picked the thief up, and headed for the door. He'd had taken no more than two steps when a blast brought him up short.

"A dying man makes a poor shield," Avon said harshly. "Put him down."

"I know he's dying, Avon," Blake shouted back over his shoulder. "But there's a chance I can save him. I need to get him to my ship."

Avon stared at Blake's back, his mind in a turmoil. Vila was dying, there was no mistaking that. But what if the bogus Blake was telling the truth? What if he could do something?

Blake's voice knifed into his mind. "If you want to finish scanning the disks, there's a console in the infirmary. Bring Orac, bring whatever you want, Avon, but I'm taking Vila now." With that, Blake and his burden disappeared through the doorway.

Avon was not really surprised by the answer; not in view of the man's earlier performance. And if by some miracle it was really Blake, well then. Grabbing the disks, he motioned to Janus and the two men ran after him, catching up with Blake as he entered the airlock.

#

Vila's pulse was practically nonexistent when Blake checked it and he quickened his pace. With Avon and Janus close behind, he led the way into his ship. Rushing down two light—filled corridors and up into a third, Blake finally arrived at his destination. A room filled with very sophisticated looking equipment.

A long cylindrical chamber occupied one entire wall and it was to this apparatus that Blake took Vila. He flipped a switch with his little finger and a slim, metallic slab slid out of the device. Tenderly, Blake positioned the thief on it, then stepped back moving quickly up to a large centrally-located console. The master control it seemed for the entire room. As he did so, he felt Avon move up behind him and the jab of a blaster against his side.

"I'm warning you," Avon threatened. "No tricks."

"No," Blake thundered, depressed a button. The slab and its burden slid back into the chamber. "I'm warning you. If Vila dies, it will be because of your damned stubbornness. Now stay out of my way."

Dr. Janus, who was standing beside the cylinder, watched in fascination as a greenish mist filled the compartment obscuring the thief's form from view. Then he gasped. The mist was dissolving Vila's clothing.

"The system requires complete sterilisation," Blake explained as the doctor turned a shocked face in his direction.

The mist dissipated and a quiet mechanical voice intoned, +Patient suffering total failure in life processes. Termination of existence imminent. Immediate storage is required.+

"Storage?" Avon demanded. That sounded ominous.

"Yes, storage," Blake replied, flipping a switch and trying to still his shaking hands. If storage was not possible, Vila would die and if that happened, any chance of convincing Avon of his identity might well die with him.

Avon's attention was drawn to a row of flickering lights lining the inside of the chamber. Vila's body seemed almost to glow as a constant pulsation of signals passed into a long, crystalline tube located near the head of the chamber. They crystal reminded him a bit too much of the memory tubes which had held both his and Cally's consciousness on Ultraworld.

Blake kept his eyes riveted to two indicators on the console. One monitored Vila's life signs which were deteriorating rapidly and the other the amount of life force energy present within the rejuv chamber. Storage was a delicate and chancy thing. And Blake had not been fully trained in all the particulars before he left Andromeda, just the basics. If he forgot anything, anything at all, Vila was dead.

A red light flashed near Vila's life signs, the indicator dropping to zero and Blake's fingers flew across the controls, tripping switches and twisting dials faster than he had thought possible. When he had finished, the life force indicator was still holding strong and Blake sighed in relief. Vila's essence had been captured, saved, stored, whatever the Andromedans called it. He had been afraid the thief was too far gone for the equipment to succeed. It was time for Phase 2.

With his eyes on the chamber, Blake adjusted a dial and watched a pale red mist drift over Vila's still form and engulf it. Twenty seconds later, it lifted and Avon and Janus both gasped in horror. Where Vila had lain, now only a skeleton remained. Avon whirled to face Blake with murder in his eyes.

Avon's stare was not an easy one to match, especially when he was in a state where he must be very close to insane with fear and doubt, but Blake managed and even smiled. "Good. Everything is going according to procedure."

"Procedure?" Janus asked in a puzzled voice from his position beside the chamber.

"Yes. The Andromedans have a strange way of treatment, Doctor. Not only is the ailment treated but the patient's entire body is checked for any disease or injuries; anything which is or may prove harmful is sought out and removed. For humans, the body is reduced to its lowest stage just as Vila is now, then rebuilt, piece by piece. Each cell, each molecule, delicately scanned for damage or disease, then replaced."

"Like one immense jigsaw puzzle," the doctor commented, astonishment lighting up his features.

"Something like that, yes," Blake murmured in reply. "I don't mind telling you, it scared the hell out of me when I first saw it used."

"And how long will this little reconstruction take?" Avon inquired, his eyes never leaving Blake's face.

"The operation," Blake corrected, "will take four hours according to the computer readings here." Gesturing to a cubicle situated behind him, he added, "And there's a computer extension here behind the console. You can finish your scanning there."

"While you do what?" Avon asked suspiciously.

"There is nothing more I can do, Avon. The equipment will do whatever is necessary. You'll just have to trust me." Turning his back on the startled Avon, Blake continued, "Doctor, I imagine you have questions?"

"Yes," Janus exclaimed. "A few million."

"Good, then let's see if I can answer at least some of them," he replied with a smile and stepped away from the controls.

#

With Blake clear of the console, Avon stepped up and studied the controls. Given time, he might be able to make something out of the various flickering lights, gauges and meters but for now.... His eyes touched the chamber for an instant, then looked away. If this was not Blake but some alien creature playing with their lives, Avon would make sure that it would regret its actions.

He turned his attention to the computer outlet. Despite the alien design, Avon had it activated in minutes, his face coloured a pale blue by its viewscreen as he inserted the disks and scanned their contents. By the time Blake finished identifying the various medical equipment to the awed Dr. Janus, Avon had his answer, though he still found it hard to believe.

According to the first disk, in exchange for his services, Gemal had been granted full amnesty and restored citizenship in the Federation along with a most handsome position. Avon wondered if the fool had believed her, then he smiled. Of course, he had. Servalan could be most convincing.

A lengthy dossier on Gemal and his culture appeared and Avon was surprised. His species were shapechangers, creatures able to assume anything or anyone's shape perfectly. Even the original would be unable to distinguish any difference and the Slizsmen could hold that shape indefinitely without any conscious effort on their part.

The Clone Masters had, of course, objected strongly to the use of Slizsmen in Federation projects and the President had bowed to their wishes. However, once they had lost power, Slizsmen were again brought into play.

The second disk had contained a total summary of Blake's activities, psychological profile and personal traits including a complete transcript of his interrogation on Earth some 8 or 9 years earlier. Avon grimaced as he read the details of that interrogation and of the programming which followed.

Then on the third disk, there came a reference to Gauda Prime and Avon nearly cried out in joy. Gemal had been set up there in a new identity. An identity which would surely draw Blake's remaining bank into Servalan's trap. Gemal had taken up residence nearly a year ago. Exactly when Orac said the first bits of information on Blake had begun trickling in. If the date contained in these disks was valid, then he didn't kill Blake. And if he didn't kill Blake, then the man in the room with him really was Blake.

Janus wondered at the strange expression on Avon's face and asked, "Avon, what is it?"

Avon gave the doctor a rare smile. "Your unauthorised search may have netted more than you can imagine, Janus."

Blake wondered, too, at the relief he heard in Avon's voice. Relief and a note of joy. "Avon?" A wealth of questions contained in one fragile word.

The man in question looked at him and smiled. "Yes, Blake, what is it?"

Blake smiled in return. There was no trace of doubt in Avon's voice. Whatever he had learned, he believed him completely. "I just wondered if you still intended to kill me," Blake laughed, then stopped as Avon turned pale.

"No," Avon answered, trying to keep his voice steady. "Not this time. Not again." And he told Blake about Gauda Prime.

#

Vila's words echoed through Blake's mind as his companion related the events of the past two years. "He's been through hell looking for you, Blake," and he wondered how Avon had kept his sanity.

The pair had retired to the large consultation couch located across from the rejuv chamber while Janus had taken up a closer position so he could watch Vila's 'reconstruction'. The progress was astounding. Veins and capillaries were appearing as if by magic, following invisible lines down from the skull until the entire skeletal structure was outlInes by them. Then larger vessels materialised.

Avon relaxed as he finished, feeling as if an immense burden had been lifted from his shoulders and closed his eyes. "It's a pity Servalan never saw you," he murmured. "She was so sure you were dead."

"I'm sorry I missed her, Avon," Blake sighed. "It would have been a pleasant shock."

Avon's smile was decidedly wicked as he replied. "The one she received was quite enough. But," he said, getting to his feet. "Hadn't we better get out of here. Servalan may have arranged for a welcoming committee from Delva VI."

"You know, I really haven't had a chance to test the ship out under battle conditions," Blake mused aloud. "Hmmm, I wonder."

"Wonder what?" Janus asked in alarm, looking up from his observation.

"Blake is always wondering," Avon told him sarcastically. "He wouldn't be Blake if he didn't."

"And Avon would not be Avon if he didn't remind me of that fact," Blake countered with a grin. "All right, if you will follow me to the flight deck, I'll instruct you in the SECOND CHANCE's operation," he added, heading for the door.

Avon scowled and turned to follow, then stopped, glancing back at the chamber housing Vila. It was both frightening and yet fascinating to watch as the thief's internal organs just seemed to materialise out of thin air, one by one. Obviously, whatever damage done to the organs had been repaired or the organs themselves replaced as veiled layers of muscle tissue began to appear now, obscuring Avon's view of Vila's internal system.

Blake followed his gaze and smiled, "I've set the controls as the Andromedans instructed me to do, Avon. Everything looks all right."

"That's hardly reassuring, Blake. What is this life force indicator?" Avon inquired, moving to the console.

"The energy generated by the individual. His essence. Put in romantic terms, I suppose his 'soul'. The device siphoned it off before Vila's body died. Caught him just in time too. A few minutes more...."

"And?"

Patience never was one of your virtues, Avon, Blake thought. "As soon as the body is repaired and fully operational, we simply reverse the process. Vila may feel better than he's felt in a long time."

"Anything would be an improvement," was Avon's only comment, and he walked to the door. "You were going to show me the flight deck, Blake?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Blake sighed and glanced at Janus, who had returned his attention to the chamber, fascinated.

"Dr. Janus, what are your plans now?"

"What?" He turned around to look at Blake, his face plainly surprised. "Oh, I really hadn't thought about it."

"Would you care to join us?" Blake asked him. "I realise with all of this equipment, you wouldn't have very much to do but..."

"Not much to do? Blake, it would take a lifetime just to understand what all of this is," Janus replied. Then, "Yes, I would like to join you."

"And another fool joins the ranks," Avon muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Avon?" Blake inquired innocently.

"I know you are dying to show off your ship, Blake," Avon snapped. "Shall we get on with it?"

Blake smiled. "Of course, Avon. If you will step this way?"

#

When Vila came to, he was lying on a soft bed in a strange room filled with all kinds of weird contraptions. It wasn't the scoutship. It wasn't like any place he had ever been before. Maybe I'm dead, he thought. The thief pinched himself hard. Ouch! That hurt. If I'm not dead, he wondered, where am I? Then he saw he was not alone in the room. A solitary figure occupied a chair across from his bed. The man appeared to be dozing.

Vila stared at him for a long time before asking, "Blake? Is it really you?"

The man stirred and looked at the thief through tired eyes. "Would you rather it wasn't?" he replied in a quiet voice.

"No...no," Vila stammered. "It's just...it's just such a shock, seeing you alive, I mean. After...after Avon shot you full of holes and all, that is."

"You are wrong, as usual, Vila," called a voice from the doorway. Avon crossed to stand beside the thief. "That was not Blake I 'shot full of holes' as you put it. It was a Slizsman."

"A what?" asked the thief in a puzzled tone.

"A Slizsman," Avon repeated patiently. "There is a race of aliens living on Selmar IX, Vila. And they have a unique gift. They are shapechangers. They can take on anyone's form and mannerisms down to the last detail. One of them took Blake's as part of Servalan's plan."

That was a bit much for the thief to take in at once and he closed his eyes to absorb it. Avon was immediately worried and showed it. Blake smiled to himself. So Cally and I were right after all, he thought. Avon does care for Vila, very much so. I'm glad they managed to make it through this together.

"I'm...I'm all right, Avon," Vila mumbled as his companion checked his pulse. "Just too much at one time, that's all. You say Servalan arranged all this? Well, what does she have to say about it?"

"Nothing," Blake answered. "Servalan is dead, Vila." Avon had not explained the manner of her demise and Blake decided he really didn't want to know.

"Dead?" the thief murmured in surprise. He looked at Avon for a long time before asking, "All debts are paid then?"

Avon smiled reassuringly and squeezed Vila's hand. "Yes, Vila. All debts are paid. Paid in full." Glancing at Blake, he added, "And maybe with a little interest."

Blake didn't understand a word of it but no doubt Avon would explain it to him or he could get Vila to tell him about it once he was back on his feet. For now, Blake had two people he cared about back with him and that was enough.

THE END

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