Shivan

by Sheila Paulson

This story first appeared in Powerplay #7

"It was all a setup, Blake, every bit of it. Servalan was running Governor LeGrand all along," Avon insisted, folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to distance himself from the rebel leader. "If your experience on Atlay has taught you nothing, the same cannot be said for the rest of us. Shivan was never a part of the plan; it was always Servalan's game to insinuate Travis into your supposed triumvirate." He cast a skeptical glance around the room to find some of Blake's zeal evident in Cally's face, naturally. She was a devoted rebel and the thought of Shivan would be sure to arouse in her the same revolutionary zeal it did in Blake. Even Jenna looked interested, leaving Avon with the dubious alliance of Vila, who could be counted on to object to any dangerous scheme until Blake got round him with threats or promises.

"But Shivan might still be alive, Avon," Blake returned reasonably, stroking his throat between his thumb and forefinger. "I want to know one way or the other."

"Neither LeGrand or Van Glynd was surprised to see the false Shivan in such grave condition," Avon reminded him. "If alive, he will be of little use to your precious resistance, and it is highly unlikely he knows anything about Star One. You've been remarkably single-minded about finding it. Now you want to change your mind. I don't know about the others, but I find such inconsistency difficult to swallow...or follow."

"You never claimed to follow me anyway, Avon," Blake returned as he got to his feet and began to pace around the flight deck. "I've been considering it and Shivan might be just what we need. He's nearly a legendary figure and would be a rallying point for any resistance movement. I say we find him. Once we've done that, then we can go after Star One again. If Shivan is alive and at large, Servalan might decide to go after him herself."

"If Shivan were free and at large, she might not have dared risk insinuating an imposter into LeGrand's power play," Avon pointed out.

"He's right, Blake," Jenna joined the discussion. "'What was to stop the real Shivan from appearing and discrediting her plan?"

"The certainty that he is either dead, imprisoned, or too ill to interfere," Avon answered logically.

"Not necessarily." Blake spun back to face them. "She didn't need her false Shivan for long, did she? Most of the time he was here, on Liberator, and we were hardly broadcasting it. The Atlay Summit was meant to be a fait accompli, which means his supposed presence was hardly transmitted on every news viscast in the galaxy. The odds were against Shivan, if he were at liberty and in hiding, ever hearing of it until it was finished. Servalan could take the risk with so much to gain: discrediting LeGrand's plan, capturing us and the Liberator." He met Avon's sardonic gaze stubbornly. "I think it's worth the risk, Avon. If we find he's dead or helpless, all we need do is back away."

"And if he's imprisoned, you'll lead a rescue, be he in the tightest security in the galaxy. As Gan once said, Blake, I want some guarantees that we'll back off if it becomes too dangerous."

At the mention of Gan, Blake's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Very well, Avon. But I want your word you won't refuse out of hand when the time comes."

"Naturally not," Avon returned with heavy sarcasm. "We will all discuss the ideas to death, and then, we will go anyway. I sometimes wonder at your obsessive zeal. It has guided you to Atlay. I wonder where it will take us next."

"If you mean the Federation is still running me, you're wrong," Blake returned hotly. "Orac has made certain of that."

"And it wasn't remotely pleasant," Jenna replied. "Deprogramming is one of my least favorite tasks. But Orac says Blake's clear of that suggestibility now, and that's what matters."

"Oh, is that what matters?"

"What matters is finding out what has happened to Shivan," Blake insisted. "He may be in grave danger. If Servalan guesses we have an interest in him, it will do him a great deal of harm."

"I suspect Servalan considers him out of our reach," Cally said softly. "But if he is to be found, Orac will tell us so. Let us wait and continue this discussion at that time. Anything else we say now is a waste of our energy."

Vila hailed her suggestion with enthusiasm, proposing they find a planet for some rest and relaxation whilst Orac worked. When no one picked up on his idea, he pretended to sulk. "Well, I think it's a good idea," he mumbled.

"You think anything is a good idea which allows you to be bone idle."

"Avon, is that fair?"

"Orac," Blake cut in, sliding the computer's activator into place. "I want you to locate Shivan. If he is dead, find out when and where, if he lives, get us his present location."

Orac received the order in silence. After a moment, Blake said sharply, "Well, Orac?"

"I am far too busy to engage in such pointless activity. Your search for Star One already takes too much time from my own research."

"Nevertheless," Blake returned, a relentless note creeping into his voice, "you will do it. Is that clear, Orac?"

"Very well. But I have wasted too much time on your petty concerns." It went silent, lights blinking.

"Yell, that's that," Jenna said, reaching past Blake and pulling the key free. "And now, Blake, whilst we wait, I suspect Vila may have had a very good idea. We're all tired. Some rest would do us good."

"Did you hear that?" Vila piped in, his face full of delight. "I had a very good idea."

*****

For the next several weeks, Orac worked on the location of both Shivan and Star One, while the crew of the Liberator idled about doing very little. A holiday on an uninhabited and pastoral planet resulted in a bad sunburn for Jenna and a turned ankle for Blake as well as a flurry of activity when Vila managed to falloff a cliff and break his teleport bracelet along with his wrist. With an already-incapacitated Blake, it was left for Avon to climb down to the crumbly ledge where the thief lay curled up in a ball, moaning. Never very fond of heights, Avon snapped the replacement bracelet around Vila's good wrist with some relief and called for teleport.

Still hobbling around with a cane, a healing pad fastened to his swollen ankle, Blake operated the teleport while Jenna and Cally readied the medical unit. Once Vila's wrist was set and encased in a healing pad, Avon turned to confront Blake, who had hovered in the background during the treatment process.

"I do not know about you, Blake," Avon said smoothly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But I suspect we have had enough of a holiday to last us for the rest of the year."

Blake collapsed into a chair and rubbed his ankle. "I think you're right. We'll stay in orbit here until we're back to par, but we seem to be unlucky down there."

"Unlucky? We're always unlucky," moaned Vila, clutching his injured wrist against his chest. "Falling off cliffs isn't my idea of a lovely holiday anyway, Blake. A place with some good bars, now that's the ticket. Mind you, we'd have to be careful of the Federation. Aren't there any nice non-Federated worlds where we could go and have a regular holiday?"

"Blake needs must commune with nature," Avon said sourly. It was not his idea of the idea holiday, either.

"Oh, come, Avon," Blake put in with a grin. "You weren't entirely hostile to the planet. I saw you enjoying the sunsets more than once."

"There is more to life than sunsets," Avon said through clenched teeth. He had never denied the planet's beauty and had appreciated a few tranquil moments in a beautiful location as much as Cally had. But his tolerance of scenic views for their own sake was rather limited. His idea of a good holiday was to be allowed time to poke about in the innards of the Liberator, unhampered by ignorant fools who did not understand his work. He said so.

"Then use your time here for that purpose," Blake told him. "No one is stopping you, Avon."

"No one was stopping me before, but you dragged me down for a sightseeing expedition and Cally expected me to help her collect various plants for study and Vila wanted rescuing. I refuse to return to the planet, is that understood?"

Blake bit his lip as if to hide a smile. "No one forced you to go down, Avon," he pointed out.

"I have the information you requested," Orac cut in smoothly from its position on a table by Vila's bed. They all turned to the computer in some surprise. Amidst the alarums and excursions of the day, they had all forgotten the two tasks Orac had been set. Now Blake turned to Orac with delight.

"Which information, Orac?" he asked eagerly.

"Which information indeed," sniffed Orac. "I have the location of the rebel Shivan. That I have located it so swiftly is due entirely to my many talents and deserves considerable appreciation."

Sarcastically, Avon gave Orac a hand. "Sufficient?" he asked when Vila and Jenna broke into startled laughter.

Orac ignored him. "Shivan is located on the planet Paternus."

"Paternus?" Blake said in astonishment. "But that's one of the planets we considered for our shore leave."

"Yes, the one we rejected for its inhospitable climate," Jenna reminded them.

"The one with the abandoned Federation base," Vila put in. "And all the snow." His face fell as he realized their next destination would include hostile weather gear, then, abruptly he remembered his injured wrist and his eyes began to twinkle. "You'll have a lovely time down there, Avon."

"1?" Avon was taken aback. He had secretly been enjoying Vila's all too obvious realization that his injury would keep him safe on board, but the thief's words recalled Blake's injured ankle and Jenna's sunburn, which while not serious, was certainly painful and which would mean she would hardly be at her best in a sub-freezing climate. At most it would take them a dozen hours to reach Paternus, and in that time, all three of them would have improved, but would likely need more recuperative time before they were equipped to face a risky situation planetside. Avon grimaced.

"In any case," he remarked. "Paternus is uninhabited."

"That is incorrect," Orac announced. "Paternus is listed as uninhabited, but in actual fact it has one inhabitant. Shivan."

"A prisoner?" Blake asked sharply. "Or in hiding?"

"A prisoner. The Council's orders were to strand him on a planet listed as deserted, a planet with no strategic importance. It was their goal to claim he had died, to make certain he was forgotten completely."

"Then why bring him to our minds now?" Avon asked

"Because all who came into contact with the supposed Shivan were to die or be incarcerated themselves," Orac returned. "We managed to escape and foil Servalan's scheme. Otherwise, none of us would have given Shivan a second thought."

"Now that we have given him a second thought," Cally mused, "Might not Servalan expect us for search for him?"

"Even with Orac, there would be no guarantee of success," Jenna replied, shifting position uncomfortably.

"But it could be a trap," Avon replied, favoring them all with a false smile. "'What fun we shall have--or rather what fun Cally and I shall have searching an entire planet for one man while the Federation breathes down our necks."

"Then the sooner we get there, the better chance we have to beat them to it," Blake returned firmly. He reached for his cane. "I'll go give Zen instructions to get us there as quickly as possible. Orac," he called over his, shoulder, balancing on his cane and his good foot. "Continue your surveillance of Paternus and inform us immediately if there is the slightest evidence of Federation presence there."

Jenna got up cautiously and followed him out.

Once they were gone, Vila lay back with his injured wrist braced carefully across his abdomen. "I don't like the sound of this, not one bit."

"Surprising."

Cally frowned, turning from Vila to Avon. "For once, I agree with Vila. I have a...a feeling about it. I know you do not believe in anything so unspecific as a feeling, Avon, but it is very real."

"What kind of feeling?" he asked suspiciously.

"Cally's been right before," Vila put in. "More than once, too." He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe we should tell Blake we don't want to go."

"For all the good that would do," Avon shorted. "Well, Cally, proceed? What mumbo jumbo do you have for us this time?"

She lifted her chin. "It is not mumbo jumbo, Avon. It is simply a sensation of threat."

"A sensation of threat? Seeking someone from the Federation wishes to keep hidden whilst Servalan knows we might think of looking for him? You sense it? It is merely logic with another name."

She shook her head. "I understand the threat you mention, Avon, and I reason it as well as you do. This is something else. Something more personal."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Does it occur to you that Blake races on and on with this mad game of his and that the longer we continue our involvement, the greater the chance that we will go down with him?"

"Or rise with him, should he triumph," she returned hotly, then she shook her head. "Sometimes I do wonder, Avon. I do not see how we can succeed with this plan to find Star One. So far, Docholi remains elusive. If Blake finds him, we will need to decide what to do next."

"Destroying Star One is foolish," Avon insisted. "Not to mention potentially lethal to a great many people. Better to use it for cur own purposes."

"Blake does not trust other people's purposes," she replied

"With us to go by, I don't blame him," Vila muttered sleepily. "If you mean to argue, do it somewhere else."

Avon gave a snort of laughter. "Far be it for us to disturb Vila's rest." He cast a glance at the thief, who eyed him nervously as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Did I thank you for rescuing me, Avon?" he asked.

"No, but do not worry. I shall remind you of it--at the appropriate moment."

Vila's face fell. "Oh. Will you?"

Sharing a smile with Cally, Avon ushered her from the room.

*****

Paternus proved to be an unappealing world. Buffeted by sandstorms at the equator, and snowstorms everywhere else, it boasted one abandoned Federation base from which everything useful had evidently been removed, and one abandoned rebel. Zen detected a life reading on the base where else to shelter from the continually bad weather? Apparently life support worked, but little else. Attempts to establish voice contact proved futile.

Orac had detected no evidence of Federation ships in the sector and no transmissions or reports involving Paternus, Shivan or even the Liberator itself. Servalan was up at Space Command Headquarters working on a plan of her own, which might or might not involve Blake and his people. Travis was still freelancing it somewhere but, without Federation backing, he was less of a threat. In other words, the mission was as safe as it could be, if one didn't allow for random factors.

Avon always considered the random factors in his equations.

Vila was out of the medical unit, his wrist knitted but not strong enough yet for actual duty. He had volunteered to man the teleport for Avon and Cally. Jenna would be at her station on the flight deck, ready to take the ship off station should it become necessary, and Blake meant to stay in constant voice contact with the landing party.

"Somehow," Avon had told him, "I do not find that particularly reassuring."

Now the landing party, himself and Cally, stood on the platform, clad in thermal gear, prepared to teleport just outside the Federation base. It was not shielded, but there were no guarantees that this was not a trap. When Blake remembered to think of it, he was very careful about traps, probably as a result of the time when Travis had trapped him by coming early to await him and his band of rebels. This time, there seemed no hidden horde of troopers waiting, but it seemed a sensible precaution to teleport outside the base.

At least it seemed sensible until they materialized on the surface, in the teeth of a howling gale. The air was alive with icy particles being swept nearly sideways, which stung his face like pebbles. Turning away from the wind, he lifted his teleport bracelet. "Down," he reported. "I shall not say we're safe. I may never forgive you for this, Blake."

"We are in an ice storm," Cally explained. "We'll enter the base now."

"The sooner the better," Avon muttered, lowering his bracelet. "That looks like the entrance over there. Remind me to be less careful on shore leave in future. Had I managed to break my wrist, it might be Vila down here."

Entry was easily gained; the door was not locked. Avon insisted that was suspicious, but Cally shook her head. "Why should he lock the door? There's no one to keep out."

"That he knows of," Avon returned. Were he the only inhabitant of a planet, he would continue to lock his door. He considered it foolhardy for Shivan, the prisoner, to overlook any such risks. But the fact that the man was a prisoner implied a willingness to risk himself one too many times. Blake would not have locked the door either.

It was nevertheless a relief to be out of the storm. The temperature inside felt hot for the first moments away from wind and storm, and he and Cally turned down the heat in their suits. After several minutes, they realized that the passageway in which they stood was unpleasantly cool and would require at least a jacket for routine comfort. Perhaps the living quarters were warmer.

Cally shivered. "Avon, I feel it more strongly down here. There is something very wrong."

"Do you sense the Federation?" he asked.

"No. It is not physical danger I am feeling. It's something else." She shook her head, pushing back her hood, and looking around. "Which way?"

"Zen reports we will find him in that direction?" Avon pointed down the corridor to the right. Removing his gloves and stowing them in his pockets, he took out his gun and aimed it in front of him as he led the way.

Shivan was reported to be a man in his forties. Orac had been able to access no background information; no mention of planet of origin or relatives still living. It was Orac's suggestion that Shivan was an alias, assumed when the man had decided to become a resistor. There were no pictures of him available and what little they had found with reasonable ease claimed him dead. Only with Orac had they been able to go any deeper. He might be programmed, brainwashed. Avon hated to agree with Cally's Auron mysticism, but, for once, he, too, had an uneasy feeling about the mission.

The base looked as if no one had cared for it in years. Dust lay thick in the corridors, disturbed only down the middle as if someone came this way but rarely. There was no need for Shivan to go outside, one assumed. Here and there were broken and abandoned pieces of furniture, and the lighting, built into the ceiling, had begun to go. Along the way, they passed doors, some ajar, displaying deserted living quarters, empty storage rooms, places where computer systems had been pulled, leaving only the connecting cables behind.

Eventually they reached a section of the base that looked more lived in. The dust lay less thick upon the floor as if someone had cleaned it within the past month or so, and all the panels were lit. It was somewhat warmer, as if certain rooms were kept at a liveable temperature and the heat bled out into the passageway. Avon exchanged a look with Cally. "In there, I think," he said, pointing to a door ahead of them. "Zen says that would be the main control room."

Gun at ready, he approached the door, while Cally, similarly armed, came beside him. As they neared the door, it swished open automatically, revealing the control room. Some of the equipment was still running, though some of the consoles had been pushed aside to make a bedroom out of one corner. Toward the center of the room, a table had been dragged, presumably from the mess hall, and lounge chairs from a rest room had been spaced about in an attempt to make the place more liveable. Yet an aura of dust and despair hung over it all as if Shivan had lost heart during the years of his exile.

He was there, sitting at the table, his back to the door, and when the two from Liberator entered, he did not turn to greet them. He was wearing a simple grey tunic, and his hair matched it, a slate grey, unevenly short as if he cut it himself rather than let it grow long and unkempt. His hands were the only thing about him that moved, turning a laser probe over and over with what seemed a feverish intensity. Cally and Avon exchanged a doubtful look.

"Shivan?" she said.

Slowly, the man went still. He lay aside the probe with careful exactness, before he composed himself and turned. "I monitored your ship in orbit." The voice was rusty, long unused. "I knew it was not Federation. Whether it was human or not, my computers could not tell me."

Something inside Avon went cold and hard like a block of ice. Be felt his fingers clench on the handle of his weapon so tightly that his joints hurt, but he scarcely heeded it. This was some mad dream. For once, he should have listened to Cally's Auron warnings. For once, they made sense.

Shivan finished turning and Avon stared helplessly at the familiar face, slender and pale, cheekbones prominent, the hair a tight cap against his skull. He was far too thin, almost emaciated, and there was a tremor in his hands that might have been the result of some disease. The pallor his face made the vivid blue of his eyes seem even brighter by comparison.

He stared at them blankly as if he had never seen a human being before, then his eyes focused upon Avon and widened. "Perhaps a hallucination," he told himself reasonably. "That would be in keeping with the rest."

Cally stared at Avon, who had tensed and jerked as if he'd been struck in the gut. "Avon?" she cried. "What is it?"

"Presumably one abandoned rebel," Avon said flatly and turned away. "Give him a bracelet." The words were forced out past stiff lips.

Cally eyed him doubtfully, then went to Shivan. "My name is Cally and he is Avon. We've come to rescue you. This is a teleport bracelet. Put it on and we'll take you to our ship."

"Thank you, my dear." The familiar voice was so changed that it was strange he had known it so quickly. "It has been many years since I have seen another human being. "

"She is an Auron," Avon said flatly.

"I was referring to you," Shivan's voice took on an edge. "But perhaps I should refer to Cally. She might have more claim upon the definition than you do."

"I shouldn't be surprised." Avon raised his bracelet. "Blake?"

Blake's voice came back instantly, full of alarm. "What is it, Avon? Are you hurt? What's wrong?" A perceptive bastard, Blake, to read so much into a single word.

"Ve have located...Shivan. We are ready to teleport."

"Avon, are you sure? It's not a trap?"

"Not the sort you mean. Bring us up, damn you."

A moment later, they were back on the Liberator, where a wide-eyed Vila, stared at them suspiciously. It was only moments after the materialized that Blake came into the teleport section with an uneven run, still slightly favoring his turned ankle. He had a gun in his hand. At the sight of Avon, Cally, and the other man, he stopped, stared at Shivan a moment as if registering any potential threat. A moment later, he set aside the gun, and, shooting Avon a questioning look, he advanced upon Shivan. "I'm Roj Blake," he said. "You must be Shivan."

"Must he?" Avon asked with heavy sarcasm and stalked out of the teleport section, flinging his bracelet in Vila's general direction as he went.

Blake stared after Avon in considerable dismay. "What the hell is that all about?"

Vila edged over to the tray, slipping Avon's bracelet into a slot. "Whatever it is, he's furious," he volunteered. "Maybe that's not Shivan."

"Cally?" Blake asked, for the moment ignoring their passenger. "What went wrong down there?"

"Nothing that I could see. But as soon as we found him," she pointed at their guest, "Avon changed. He became as cold as ever I've seen him and they talked for a moment, as if they knew each other."

Nothing else could explain it. Blake turned to the grey haired man, discovering in himself a growing antipathy for him, whether or not he was Shivan. Whatever the man had done had upset Avon more than Blake had ever seen him, even when they encounter Del Grant and Blake had learned the truth of Avon's lost love.

"We came here looking for a rebel named Shivan, " Blake said. "Are you he?"

"I am. I've been down there a dozen years, with only an annual supply ship crewed by mutoids for company. Thank you for finding me."

"It's not that easy." Blake took the bracelet Shivan removed and passed it to Vila. Cally shed her bracelet, then her thermal clothing, and when she was removed them, took up her gun again, not pointing it at Shivan, but simply holding it in her hand. Anyone who knew Cally would understand how quickly she could use it, but Shivan paid her no heed.

Blake looked after Avon. "That man is a friend of mine," he warned Shivan "I don't know what's between you, but I won't have him harmed. I'd like an explanation."

He must have sounded convincing, for Shivan nodded gravely. "I'd like to sit down, if I might? I've not been well lately." It was not intended as a play for sympathy but rather a statement of fact, though there was something else in his eyes that Blake could not read.

"'We'll go to the flight deck," Blake decided. "You can rest there," He let no sympathy show in his voice, though in the normal course of things, he would have been far more concerned for Shivan after the man's twelve year ordeal. "This way."

Vila scurried ahead of them, causing Blake to wonder if he intended to make sure Avon wasn't there, or to warn him of their arrival if he were. But when Blake and Cally ushered Shivan onto the flight deck, only Jenna and Vila were present. The thief was hovering near the other door as if he'd meant to get right away before they arrived, but at the last minute he hesitated, then came back and took his position at the weapons console. Blake gestured to the couch and Shivan sat down wearily, moving like a man twenty-five years older than his actual age.

Blake made the introductions hastily. "Now," he said firmly when Shivan had acknowledged them. "I want some answers. Do you and Avon know each other?" He took a seat opposite the grey-haired man.

Shivan hesitated. "Avon and I?" he repeated. "Yes, you could say we know each other."

"If that is so," Cally intervened, dropping down beside Blake and regarding Shivan suspiciously, "why did Avon say nothing to us when we decided to come looking for you? You're not Shivan, are you?"

"Not exactly. I am the rebel Shivan, though. I am the man you came looking for, though I'd give a great deal to hear how you knew where to look. The data was erased from their computers. I was abandoned there and only a select few knew where I was. The supreme commander knew."

"Servalan?" Jenna asked suspiciously.

"No. It was Rascar in my day. Servalan was one of the staff officers then, but a rising star. I expected trouble from her, Kasabi expected trouble from her. But she was so well connected we knew she'd go far. So she's supreme commander now. That's very bad."

"We think so," Vila agreed.

"So they exiled you," Blake prompted, turning the conversation back to Shivan himself. "Odd. When they caught me, they played games with my mind, forced me to recant, made me forget my Cause. It took years for me to remember what I'd fought for and to start fighting again. They sent me to Cygnus Alpha, but we took this ship and escaped."

"I was never so lucky. K...Avon called you Blake. I've heard of you. They sent me the report of your first trial, where you renounced the Cause. They thought it discourage me. They shoved me your second trial as well, with that trumped up charge of child molesting. Their methods grow worse all the time."

"Ye know that," Cally said. "But before the two of you start on the inequities of the Federation, we want to find out about you."

"Why did they simply banish you?" Blake asked

"Several reasons. Like Servalan, I had excellent connections. At that time, it was deemed wiser that the connection never be made public. They felt that the disappearance and reported death of the rebel Shivan would serve the purpose. They prefer to discourage anyone in the Alpha grades from rebellion. That's why they here so hard on you. But Shivan came out of nowhere. Better he return there. Better no one ever learned his real identity."

"Ah," breathed Blake, coming closer to the light. "So Shivan is an alias."

"Yes. I believed in my Cause, but I saw no need to implicate my family until I was certain I could make a difference." He paused for breath, shifting on the couch as if his joints ached. These days, arthritis was easily treated, but perhaps on his remote world, Shivan had been denied the proper medication. Any serious illness could have killed him. It was a wonder the solitude alone hadn't done so.

Twelve years alone and still sane? Blake shook his head. He doubted he was strong enough to have endured it. For the first time, a reluctant sympathy for the other man began to creep up on him.

"But you knew Avon back then," Vila suggested suddenly. "And you knew him well, didn't you? You started to call him Kerr. I heard you. No one calls him that, not if he wants to go on living." He pursed his lips. "You knew him, and he knew you. That's why he took off like that. What did you do to him, back then? Avon never has old friends. They're always old enemies. You're another, aren't you?"

"Yes," agreed Shivan. "I did know Kerr. What did I do to him? I...died."

They all stared. "I think you'd better explain that," said Jenna tartly. She and Avon were hardly close, but she would back him against a stranger, especially a stranger who talked in riddles.

"I lied to him and I vanished. He must have believed me dead. I'm sure he preferred to believe me dead. It would mean I hadn't walked away without looking back. It would mean I hadn't abandoned him completely. It would mean I hadn't stopped caring." He heaved a vast and shaky sign. "He's my younger brother."

Vila nodded as if he'd expected it, and Cally sat back, a distressed look in her eyes. Blake realized he must have guessed, for he felt no surprise. Avon had always been reticent on the subject of his brother, mentioning him voluntarily only once, when they had first boarded the Liberator and the ship's defense system had showed Avon an image of him. The image had been compulsive enough to draw him toward what might easily have been his death if Blake hadn't been able to resist the illusion and stop him. Afterwards, he'd asked Avon about his brother, volunteering the knowledge that his own brother and sister had been murdered by the Federation and false vistapes sent to keep him complacent. Avon had not been precisely sympathetic, though he had not sneered it off as he often did confidences. But neither had he volunteered any information. He had simply remarked that his brother was dead and ended the conversation by leaving the flight deck. Blake knew better than to bring the subject up again, until now.

"He did think you dead," Blake acknowledged. "But I got the impression it happened a lot longer than twelve years ago."

"I left home when Kerr was eighteen," Shivan explained. "He was at the Science Academy then, destined to go far. His reports were all brilliant, and he couldn't see past his enthusiasm for his work. I tried to recruit him, but he wasn't interested. We fought about it. I went anyway." Blake realized that was a very simplistic description of something that had affected both men very strongly, but he didn't press for more detail. Avon would be furious that this much had been revealed without his permission.

"I joined the resistance," Shivan continued. "It was mostly because of Kerr I chose an assumed name. I knew they could prove I was Aric Ayon if they caught me, but I didn't believe I'd be caught. I did a lot of good, I think. It went well for longer than I had any right to expect. I never once heard from Kerr in those years. Until today I was never sure if he had guessed my identity or not. Today I realized he'd had no idea. Shortly after I left home, I had a speeder accident and my hair went mostly grey. People always thought me older than I really was. It served as a disguise after that. If Avon even considered Shivan the rebel, he would have assumed I was too old to be his brother. There's only four years between us. You wouldn't think it, would you?"

"So he chose to believe you dead," Blake returned. "And you resented the quarrel enough to avoid him. Evidently you never contacted him either."

"It would have been risky." Shivan...Aric Avon...replied.

Blake doubted it would have been impossible to get a message to his brother in those days. It was only after Shivan's arrest that there had been a serious crackdown on rebel groups. Before that there had often been open meetings, such as the one Bran Foster attempted, which were simply broken up by the Federation, and the attendees sent home. Foster had genuinely believed he would not be killed if he offered no resistance. Of course the serious leaders were always routed out. How many years before Shivan's arrest had Hal Mellanby and his band been destroyed? Perhaps they fear Shivan might become another Mellanby. They circulated the story that Mellanby had run, just as they had tried to discredit Blake with the false child molesting charges. Perhaps it would have been too risky for Shivan to contact Avon when he had been at such pains to keep the connection secret.

"Perhaps you felt bitterness that he had not understood your cause or shared it with you," suggested Cally gently. "It is a pity it came between you. Perhaps it is not too late to make amends."

"Yes, it is," Shivan replied. "It's far too late, Cally."

"If that means you won't try..." began Blake hotly, angry for Avon's sake though Avon would never thank him for it.

"He won't try," Shivan corrected. "He was always stubborn."

"That hardly means you should give up without a fight. Did those twelve years remove every trace of Shivan? You were always ready to take risks," Blake remembered. "It was stories about you that first caught my interest. I wanted to get involved and make changes the way you did." He was becoming disillusioned and he resented it.

"I didn't ask to be rescued and it is not my responsibility to live up to your expectations," Shivan snapped. "You did rescue me, however. I would be grateful if you had a spare cabin so I could rest, and I am hungry."

"Cally, would you show him a spare cabin and get him some food," Blake asked her, standing up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" she asked

"To talk to Avon."

*****

Avon proved difficult to find. If he was in his cabin, he was not answering the door, so Blake set about tracking him down. At such times, he truly realized the vast size of the Liberator. Some of the lower decks had never been fully explored, at least not by Blake, though he suspected Avon knew every bolt in the bulkheads.

Eventually he ran him to earth in one of the rest rooms where Avon was working on some small device as if his life depended upon it. When Blake entered, he looked up sharply, registered the expression on the rebel leader's face and said, "So he told you."

"He did, but not without some coaxing."

"I'm not surprised. I only wonder that the rest of you took as long as this. It is my business, Blake."

"I agree. Whatever is between you and Shivan is your business. What interferes with the running of this ship is my business though."

"You have done your duty and rescued the great rebel Shivan. If you mean to keep him on Liberator, you can put me off at the first neutral planet we pass. If you mean to turn him over to a rebel band such as Avalon's, do not expect me to meet him in the meantime."

"I'm surprised, Avon," said Blake, pulling out the chair opposite his and sitting down, propping up his sore ankle with some relief. "In all the time I've known you, you've never taken the easy way out before."

"I am not subject to your manipulation," Avon snarled. "Just leave it, Blake. It is not your business."

"No. But I think he's ill, Avon. Sometimes we must act quickly, for there are no second chances."

Avon went very still as if he held his breath, his eyes pinning Blake in the chair like some rare and dangerous specimen. "Meaning?"

"I don't know exactly. I know he doesn't look well. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"Solitude and malnutrition, I should think," Avon returned as if he had little interest in the subject. "Have Orac and Zen check him out if it disturbs you. It is nothing to me."

"He's your brother!"

"He was my brother."

"If he means so little to you, why did the Liberator nearly kill you when we first boarded? You seemed drawn to the illusion."

"Zen's defenses created illusions. They acted upon the mind. In my right mind. I should have taken no such risk."

"Fine, Avon. Then shut yourself up in your cabin because he's here for now. Perhaps Avalon will take him. I'll ask. But I will not deny the Cause this chance simply because your feelings are hurt." He couldn't help remembering his own brother. He would give anything for this chance that Avon was prepared to spurn, and it infuriated him. He stalked out without looking back, only pausing when the door was shut to lean against the wall, favoring his ankle. But he knew he couldn't leave it like that.

He didn't have to. As he stood there, Vila came hurrying down the corridor, alarm in his face. "Blake! There you are. Better come quick. Shivan's collapsed. We've got him in the medical unit and Cally and Orac are examining him."

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Blake asked as he straightened.

"Not yet. But he was having trouble catching his breath, and then he started coughing up blood." Vila looked small and frightened, his eyes drifting past Blake to the rest room door. "Is Avon…"

"Avon says he wants no part of him, Vila."

"But it's his brother!" Vila burst out with such emphasis that Blake wondered if Vila had a brother somewhere--or had once had one and then lost him.

''I'll tell him, Vila," he said quietly. "You go along and help Cally, if you can. No, go to the flight deck first and tell Jenna to hold orbit for the time being. Ye don't know what's wrong with him. They may have adapted him to the atmosphere of Paternus so that he could never escape." It was a scheme worthy of the Federation, though it might not be the answer.

As Vila darted off, Blake squared his shoulders to confront Avon a second time. When he opened the door and stepped into the room. he froze. Avon was sitting at the table, his work abandoned, his face buried in his hands, his body written in lines of despair.

At the sound of Blake's arrival, he jerked his head up, fury replacing misery on his visage. "What do you want now?" he demanded, voice full of rage. "Leave me alone!"

"Your brother has collapsed," Blake said quietly, holding Avon's eyes. "They've taken him to the medical unit, and Cally thinks he is very sick."

"That is no concern of mine," Avon replied promptly, but he no longer sounded convincing.

"I think it is." Sometimes Avon had to be prodded into doing things he really wanted to do, if only to save face. "In any case, I expect you to come along to the medical unit. It's possible you can help."

"If that is meant as a threat. ..."

"No, but I won't leave until you come with me."

Avon muttered something about a dictatorship, favored Blake with a look of hot resentment, and climbed to his feet with exaggerated irritation. "I imagine you would carry me if I didn't come with you?"

"I doubt my ankle would hold up to that," Blake returned. "But I wouldn't hesitate to drag you."

"You appear an excellent example of the ability of power to corrupt, Blake." But he moved so quickly that Blake had nearly to run to present the appearance of leading the way to the medical unit.

Shivan was conscious when they arrived, but he looked much worse than he had when he had teleported. There was a pinched look to his face, and his eyes seemed sunken and far too bright. When Avon followed Blake into the room, life flared in them briefly and was quickly banished. "So you've decided to visit the sick," he said scornfully. "If you expect a deathbed reconciliation, you are making a foolish mistake."

He couldn't have chosen any words more geared to drive Avon away if he had tried. Suddenly Blake realized that he was trying. He might want Avon here, but he was not prepared to allow it, and that gave Blake pause for thought. Before Avon could leave, Blake put his back against the door and folded his arms across his chest.

"Cally," he said, "have you learned what's wrong with him yet?"

Avon started forward as if he intended forcibly removing Blake from his path, but at the last moment, he hesitated, waiting for the Auron's reply.

It was Orac that answered. "He has fetterin poisoning. "

That stopped Avon in his tracks. "Feterrin poisoning?" he echoed. "And the cause?"

The door behind Blake shifted and he stepped forward to allow Vila entry. The thief said nothing but merely went over to join Cally. Ignoring him, Orac continued in a lecturer's voice.

"Fetterin poisoning is a blood condition which results in weakening the walls of the blood vessels and which, if untreated, can lead to a stroke, heart attack, or general blood loss throughout the body. Its cause is the venom of the fetterin viper of Traxis Major. and its results became apparent within a period of two to six weeks. A bite by the fetterin viper leaves an angry wound that refuses to heal. Shivan had no such wound."

"Then I question your diagnosis," Avon replied.

"Or," said Orac, impatiently as if it resented the skepticism, "fetterin poisoning can be induced by an injection of distilled venom. In such instance, the wound is small and easily overlooked. Such a wound has been located upon Shivan's upper right arm."

Avon stared at his brother, then turned to Blake. "I detect the hand of Servalan," he remarked.

"Avon is correct," Cally replied. "Shivan would hardly inject himself with poison that causes a lingering death, even assuming he had access to such. A fetterin viper is a tropical snake and would never have survived on Paternus. In any case the wound is an awkward position for self injection."

Avon spun back to face his brother. "Who did this?"

"You were correct before," Shivan replied. "It was Servalan."

"But why?" Blake burst out. "If she wanted you dead, there here any number of easier methods available to her."

"She wanted me dead, of course," Shivan replied. "But I believe she wanted more than that. She told me what had happened with the Atlay Conference, that her plan to wipe out several large resistance factions had been largely successful, including the death of Governor LeGrand. But she said the Liberator had escaped."

"What had that to do with you?" Blake demanded. "Did she know you were Avon's brother?"

"Yes. She knew. She laughed about it. She said it seemed likely that you would come looking for me, Blake. She said that, reminded of me, you were bound to put the Orac computer to the task of seeing if I still lived. She intended to make it easy for you."

"Easy," huffed Orac. "Indeed it was not easy.

"Orac's miffed," Vila muttered in the background

Avon favored Vila with a cold look and the thief subsided, watching Avon with worried eyes even after the computer expert had turned back to his brother.

"Go on," he prompted. "Servalan injected you with fetterin poison. Why?"

"Because she claimed you would find out what happened to me and that you would be forced to come to her for the antidote."

"Can the antidote be synthesized on the Liberator, Orac?" Cally asked quickly

"No. Fetterin poisoning cannot be treated with a synthetic medication. Only a second and equal dosage of the venom can cure the poisoning. The first dosage becomes absorbed into the body relatively quickly, altering its own molecular structure, polarizing it. A second dosage of the same amount is drawn to the original dosage and instead of becoming absorbed, it attacks the previously administered venom, neutralizing it. Once the original dosage is absorbed, it is impossible to measure with enough precision to be successful in countering it. Too much and the victim becomes newly poisoned, too little and the original poison is not entirely neutralized."

"And only Servalan knows the exact dosage," Avon remarked. "Yet you didn't think to tell us about it." He favored his brother with an icy glare.

"Had I told you, you would have intended to go after Servalan for the information."

"Yes," agreed Blake.

"That's why I said nothing. It's a trap, of course." He raised his eyes to his brother. "Damn you, Kerr, no matter what was between us, I couldn't allow you to go knowingly into a trap."

"But we would have learned what was wrong with you eventually," Cally reminded him when Avon seemed incapable of speech.

"You might not. I didn't know Orac's capabilities. Or perhaps you might have learned too late."

"You were willing to die without telling us?" Blake asked.

Shivan's eyes had never left his brother's face. "yes, " he said simply.

Blake followed his look, then turned away quickly. "Orac, how long does Shivan have? Is there time to go for the information we need?"

"Yes," Orac replied. "Though Shivan's condition will continue to deteriorate, it can be treated on a temporary basis with molocan. There is a fortnight's grace period. If he is given the second dosage within fourteen days, six hours, he will survive."

"Have you checked Servalan's computers to see if she has recorded the exact dosage? asked Cally.

"Naturally. That information is in no files I have accessed. It is unlikely she would record it, knowing I could find it."

"What is her present location?" Vila asked.

"Space Command Headquarters."

"She will be waiting for us," Blake replied. "Yet with Avon's detector shield, we can nearly achieve teleport range before we are detected, Avon. Is there any chance of extending the range enough for us to get close this once?"

Avon stared as if his thoughts had been far away. "The power drain on Liberator's energy banks would be enormous."

"When we attacked Space Command Headquarters, they had us in their detectors for five seconds before we were in firing range," Blake reminded him.

"Teleport range is shorter than firing range. I would need to allow for ten seconds more coverage, allowing us to teleport and withdraw again. But it would not be one instance alone. We would need to return and teleport the landing party out again. Servalan would be waiting. What you suggest has an unacceptable element of risk, Blake."

Shivan nodded as if it were what he expected, his eyes sliding shut. Avon turned back abruptly. "Aric?" It was the first time he had called his brother by name.

"I never intended you to take that risk," the rebel insisted.

"You mean instead to have me watch you die," Avon returned. "I should have expected that."

"Shivan's eyes flew open again. "What else can I do. I'm dying already. Don't you think I'd come to terms with it down there? Death doesn't frighten me any more, little brother."

Avon flinched, but Blake couldn't tell if it was at the appellation or because of the implication of his brother's words. Yet when he spoke, he sounded furiously angry. "Yes, that was ever your way, to do things without regard for other people's feelings. Death may be easy for you. Watching you die is another matter."

Shivan flinched. "So I tell you about Servalan and you take a fatal risk on my behalf? I don't like that option very much."

"What you like is no longer the issue," Avon spat. "I should point out to you that you have involved Blake in your revenge against me. He may have a great many faults, but he will not sit by idly and watch you die, even if it means risking this ship and everyone on it to save you. Foolish idealists are like that."

"Revenge against you?" Shivan burst out, sitting up and grabbing at Avon's arm. "You think I let you bring me here so I could deliberately die by inches in front of you?"

"Didn't you?"

"No. It never occurred to me."

"Yet it occurred to you to conceal the nature of your illness from us."

"Yes. I don't want you risking your life for me."

"There is more to life," Avon snarled, "than what you want. But you've always gone your selfish way without regard of that. Why should now be different? Lie here and die then, damn you. I don't have to stay and watch you."

He stormed toward the door. Perhaps a wiser man than Blake would have let him go, but Blake refused to leave it. He caught Avon's arm. "Where are you going?"

Avon jerked free. "To redesign my detector shield," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Stand out of my way, Blake, or I won't answer for the consequences." He picked up Orac.

Blake stepped aside, to the intercom. "Jenna?" he asked as Avon left.

What is it, Blake?"

"Lay in a new course--for Space Command Headquarters."

*****

Vila remained in the medical unit after Blake had departed for the flight deck. He waited while Cally prepared a dosage of molocan which eased Shivan's condition immediately. "It will feel good now," she informed him. "But each subsequent dosage will be less effective. Try to rest quietly. Will you stay with him, Vila?"

The thief nodded. "Go ahead, Cally. You can help Avon with the shielding."

"You can't mean to risk Space Command Headquarters on my behalf?" Shivan demanded.

"Blake would have done it anyway," Cally replied as she put away the drug container, "with some slight guarantees of success. Now he'll be all the more determined for Avon's sake. Did you really intend him to watch you die?"

Shivan met her eyes. "No," he said flatly. "You came sooner than I'd expected. I meant to take my own life. That would have been short and clean. He would simply have come too late."

Vila froze, staring at Shivan in dismay. Cally, more practical, faced him with fierce determination. "You will not do that now," she insisted.

"It would be the best way."

"No. It would be the easy way. My people do not believe in suicide, but even apart from that, it would deny yourself a chance to survive and it would be cruel to Avon. I suspect there has been enough cruelty between you already. Why end it that way?"

"No matter what I do, he will blame me for it."

"Perhaps. But you must fight to survive. You must not deny him a chance to make peace."

Skeptical, Vila couldn't remotely image. Avon coming in here to heal the breach, but neither could he have believed Avon willing to rush off to Space Command Headquarters and confront Servalan for the antidote. He rather hoped Avon could make it up with Shivan. Though he wouldn't have admitted concern for Avon to anyone, not if they pulled his fingernails out one at a time, he didn't like the feel of this. It was nasty. Too many things were unspoken, too many problems unresolved.

"He'll be the one to deny it," Shivan returned bitterly. "He never once saw my side of it."

"Maybe not," Vila put in. "But he's up there now working out a way for us to get to Servalan without getting killed or captured along the way. You must have known him well once. He never says it, he does it. Even I know that, and I'm just a Delta Grade idiot."

"Is that what he calls you?" Shivan asked

Vila didn't like the question. He had never found Avon's put-downs that offensive, for Avon had never denied him the right to give as good as he got, but he didn't know how to explain it to this man who looked as if Vila had been downtrodden and who wanted to crusade against it.

"It's nothing to what I call him," he returned. "Tell him, Cally."

"Avon and Vila get along very well," Cally returned surprisingly. "He won't thank you for interfering and neither will Vila."

Vila nodded importantly. "You see. Get along very well. " He cast a suspicious glance at Cally out of the corner of his eye, but she busied herself with some routine tasks, putting things away.

"I'll go now to offer my help to Avon," Cally said. "Will you stay here?"

Since Vila had meant all along to do that, he nodded.

"So now I'm to be guarded," Shivan burst out resentfully

"You are a stranger here and you are not well. Either factor on its own would merit an attendant," Cally said simply and left.

Shivan and Vila regarded each other with some antipathy. "You're here to make sure I don't kill myself, aren't you?" the rebel asked.

"No," Vila said. "If it weren't for Avon, I couldn't be bothered. I'm here because I want to know about him. He's always secretive. Mind you, I'm not given to blabbing myself. I can keep a secret better than anyone I know, unless it's Avon."

Shivan shook his head. "I couldn't believe it when Servalan said my brother was on a rebel ship," he offered at last. "He was never very keen on the idea of resistance."

"He still isn't," Vila agreed. "He wants this ship, I think. Or at least that's what he wants us to think. He tried to steal five million credits from the Federation banking system and they sent him to Cygnus Alpha for it. We got this ship instead. Blake's serious about his Cause and he's a faster talker than the rest of us. Besides, we've nowhere to go."

Shivan stared at him. "I see. You're somewhat like him, aren't you, Vila. Never saying what you mean, always hiding it so no one I will guess."

"Here now," Vila began in alarm.

Shivan burst out laughing. Avon wasn't much given to laughter, but the few times Vila had heard him laugh in genuine amusement, he had sounded just like this. As it had drawn Vila to Avon against his will, it melted away some of his resistance now but, being Vila, he didn't let it show.

"What's so funny?"

"I don't know. You. Blake. This whole setup. It may be ideal for Kerr. He belongs, whether he admits or not. Blake was prepared to defend him, you and Cally were outraged at the thought that I might hurt him if I took my life. I'm glad he has friends."

"But you're still angry at him for refusing to follow you, aren't you?"

"He'd always followed me before," Shivan replied. "No matter what crazy scheme I invented, Kerr insisted on tagging along. We were close despite the four years difference in our ages. He was bloody intelligent and it showed--maybe that was what made us seem more like contemporaries. In fact, some of the time it was his scheme that won the day. My friends and I counted on him. Sometimes we needed a hacker and Kerr was the best we could find. we weren't rebels yet, just boys testing the system, seeing what would give. It wasn't until I was twenty-two that I really realized how bad things were. We were a wealthy family, you see. I'd never faced hardship and restrictions. I didn't understand that it wasn't the same for everyone. We'd go slumming in the Delta domes and though we saw that Deltas had a different life than our own, we didn't take it to heart. Then finally I began to understand. I saw a Federation patrol gun down an unarmed man for no real reason but that he was in the wrong place. They dragged the body away as if it were garbage, and something snapped inside me. Everything I'd been learning came to a head and I knew I couldn't sit back and enjoy the privileges or rank and wealth while other people here oppressed. So I decided to fight.

"I was sure Kerr would come with me. He'd always followed my lead before. But he'd had a year at the Science Academy, top of his class, of course. They were predicting great things for him. They said he could write his own ticket. He liked that. A bit of ego has my brother. He thought I was mad, that I'd been carried away by some new whim that would pass. I knew it wouldn't pass, but I couldn't make him see that.

"Finally he claimed that if I went on with it, it would destroy the rest of the family, our parents, our prestige, our wealth, even our grading. People have been downgraded for less, but I didn't know it at the time. I said I'd change my name, that no one would ever know. He accused me of thinking of no one but myself, of taking unwarranted risks for no chance of gain. It escalated and we called each other every bitter, hateful name in the book. I went and was glad to leave. I told myself I didn't care what happened to him, and I didn't."

"Then what happened?" Vila prodded, caught up in the story.

"First off, I had a speeder accident, got a bad head injury, which turned my hair grey. When I recovered, I thought it was to my advantage, another part of the disguise. I plunged into my work with total absorption. It was only later I learned that the Federation knew who I was and who my family was."

"They didn't trust Avon after that," Vila burst out in startled realization. "They must have watched him, put agents on him. Maybe that's why his great bank swindle failed. Be always insisted he'd been betrayed because he was too good to have been caught. Maybe it wasn't even that. Maybe it was because of you."

Shivan winced. "I've been out of touch too long. I do know that after I was found out, obstacles were put in his way. He graduated top of his class in spite of them, but the glorious success he'd been promised never materialized. He had good jobs, but he'd been led to expect great ones. The family money went too. They said it was my father's reckless speculation that led to it, but my father was a cautious man. Reckless speculation was never his way. He fell out of favor and was reduced to Beta status, and my mother died. Oh, they were ever so careful, Vila. None of it was ever publicly attributed to me and my Cause. I didn't realize it myself at the time. I avoided the family, never guessing I was already found out. I think the Federation decided to discredit them gradually and remove them from the public eye before their final fall. They would never acknowledge that someone such as me could rebel. There had been a few others, of course, but they'd used their own names. I hadn't, and the Federation meant to keep that secret."

"So, because of you, Avon lost everything. No wonder he was so bitter when he found you. No wonder he won't commit himself to Blake's cause."

"He's here, isn't he?"

"Under protest all down the line."

"What could I have done, Vila? There was always more at stake than just our own little lives."

"You and Blake would get on just fine," Vila burst out. "Don't you see that those little lives are what the whole thing is about? You and Blake, neither of you can see the forest for the trees. In your own way, neither of you are much better than the Federation."

"If you believe that, why are you still here?"

Vila was silent a moment, thinking. "I've nowhere else to go," he said at last "Besides, I do like Blake."

"Not good enough, Vila."

"Not your business either."

"When you've been wallowing in my business all this time? You can do better than that."

Vila hesitated. "All right," he said. "Someone's got to do something. Maybe Blake can't win, but at least he tries. We aren't here as slaves. We can go any time we like. Maybe he pushes us too hard sometimes, but we've got the right to push back. That's more than you can say for the Federation."

It was as near to a commitment to Blake's Cause as Vila would ever make, but Shivan didn't know that. "What about my brother?" he asked. "Is he committed too?"

"If he is, it's to Blake himself," Vila said. "He can go any time. Once he thought we were all dead and he could have taken the ship and run. Do you know what he did instead? He came after us and rescued us singlehanded. He claimed he needed us to help fight a Federation flotilla, but I think he'd plenty of time to run before it arrived. Mind you, I'm no Avon expert. No one is. But I think you taught him nothing is as it should be, or even as it seems. I think he's afraid of any kind of ties because he'll be abandoned and betrayed all over again. So he's let himself get hard and cold and nasty and puts himself first." Vila smiled knowingly. "Then he'll push Blake to safety when someone is shooting at him, or go out of his way to rescue us."

"In other words, he hasn't entirely convinced himself yet," Shivan said softly "I'm not sure how right you are. Vila, but I'll think about it."

"See that you do," Vila said sternly.

"Do you mind if I get some sleep?"

"Go ahead. But I'm staying right here, so don't try anything."

Shivan laughed again, shook his head, and finally settled down against his pillow, closing his eyes.

*****

"I've set up emergency circuits here, and here," Avon explained to Blake and Cally. He pointed with a laser probe at a circuit diagram spread out on the table in front of the flight deck couch. "What they will do is route the additional power needed from power banks six and seven. I've diverted power from them and distributed it over the other power banks for the flight. If we have to fight, it will limit available firepower, so instead of fighting back, we will need to run. This circuit acts as a power booster, drawing off the life support banks, shutting them down in all decks but this one, living quarters and the computer room. In other words, if it should come to a protracted battle, life support will be off everywhere else. Lights will dim shipwide and power will divert to where it is most required. It will not work over the long run, but it will give us enough power for twenty five seconds additional shielding. That will allow us time to make two passes over Space Command Headquarters unobserved with five seconds to spare. Should teleport functions fail or require a boost or reset, we will become visible."

"Thank you, Avon," Blake replied. "That's better than I could have hoped. Could we reroute still more power by shutting down life support in our sleeping quarters?"

"Yes, but not enough to make a difference," Cally added. "Orac will set coordinates, but one of us must activate the teleport."

"Then comes the additional problems we have no way of allowing for," Avon continued. "Servalan is expecting us. She will know we can come close without detection so her troops will be at instant readiness."

"Instant readiness is difficult to maintain over a period of weeks, Avon," Blake reminded him. "I mean to teleport directly into her presence."

"If she knows anything about you, Blake, she will expect that. I should doubt she would keep a supply of venom on hand. If there is one on the station, it will be as far from her as possible."

"I've allowed for that, Avon," Blake returned. "Orac has given us a rough estimate of the amount of venom required. In five hours we will be in the vicinity of Rellus II where we will collect a supply of the venom from the medical station. Servalan will have the knowledge with her wherever she is, within her head."

"Ye cannot trust her to give the correct information," Cally volunteered, frowning.

"Or any information at all," Avon returned. "She will give it to me. I will see to that."

"What will you do?" asked Blake

"Whatever is necessary. Don't look at me like that, Blake. You would do the same were it your brother." He refused to meet Blake's eyes, but his face was hard and unyielding.

Blake nodded, realizing it was true. He hadn't expected Avon to admit it, but what else was this massive reworking of the detector system if not concern for Shivan...for Aric Avon? With the deadline Orac had given them, there could be no time for lengthy persuasion. Threats might serve better here.

"All right," he conceded. "I'll come down with you."

Avon looked unsurprised, as if he had always expected it to fall that way. "In that case," he returned, "I suggest you rest your ankle in the meantime, and allow me to go down after the additional venom."

Blake nodded. It was only common sense. "I'll leave it to you, Avon. But it will be another three days before we reach Space Command Headquarters. My ankle should be completely recovered by then."

Avon began to collect his diagrams. "Ye will do this my way, Blake."

"I'm not certain I'll approve of his methods, Cally," Blake told the Auron woman when Avon had left the flight deck.

"I believe that I will," she returned. "Aric told Avon he meant to die in order to spare Avon the risk of going into a trap. Servalan will use whatever tools come to hand to stop us. Ye must discourage her from doing this again."

*****

Accompanied by Cally, Avon teleported down to Rellus II and returned with several vials of fetterin venom which was placed in cold storage in the medical unit. When they had resumed their journey to Space Command Headquarters, Avon found himself alone on the flight deck. Applying himself to fine tuning the detector system, he was lost in his work when a voice behind him said, "Kerr?"

Muttering a curse, he dropped his laser probe and spun around to see his brother standing in the doorway. The elder Avon looked pale and shaky, but the palliative drug had given him enough energy to venture out of the medical unit. The two started at each other, then Avon said impatiently. "Sit down before you collapse and I have Blake up here insisting I've done you a mischief."

Moving as if his joints hurt, Shivan complied, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "Cally tells me you have a plan to get the necessary information from Servalan."

"And to avoid the trap she has set up," Avon replied. "It will require unacceptable degree of luck, something I have never chosen to rely upon."

"Yet you are going down there yourself."

"Blake is not quite ruthless enough for what I have in mind."

"I'm surprised at you, Kerr. The others have been talking about you. Even Servalan talked about you. Ruthless, yes; but not on other people's behalf. I should have said you hated me. Why are you doing everything possible to save my life?"

Avon was silent a long time. "I do not choose to let her win," he replied at length.

"And for that, you'll risk your life and Blake's?"

"I couldn't keep Blake away unless I put him in restraints," Avon replied with irritation. "He would go whether I cooperated or not. That is his way. It lacks common sense, but he is consistent. The Cause takes precedent in spite of practicality. We're the ones who die for it."

"Yet you stay, and you fight at his side."

"Never delude yourself that I stay here out of a belief in freedom for the rabble, Aric. You could not convince me to fight for humanity. Neither has Blake. I am here because it is the safest place for me. The Federation seeks me, not only because I am considered a member of Blake's crew."

"You stay here for safety, do you? Yes, this ship could offer that. Faster, more powerful, able to elude entire fleets of pursuit ships. Safety being your primary concern. In the old days, it was wealth and power, but then this ship has a strongroom, and it is the most powerful vessel in the galaxy. I should say that would tempt you." He smiled. "As for safety, I understand that too. It's why we're going to Space Command Headquarters, why you mean to teleport down with only Blake into a trap. I understand completely."

Avon shook his head impatiently. "Credit me with what motives you choose. It is all the same to me."

"Then I'll settle for revenge," Aric grinned. "You were always good at that." He shrugged. "You had your dreams once, Kerr. What happened to them?"

"You did." Avon spat at him. "Thanks to you, we were discredited. They took away Father's grading. How do you imagine he reacted to that? Mother died of it, but you weren't there, were you? They put every stumbling block in the way of my career they could manage. Without your interference, there would be no need of any of this." He waved his hand around the flight deck.

"Do you honestly believe that?" Aric burst out. "I grant you some of it. It was my activities that called attention to the family. But all it did was speed up the plan for us. Father was too powerful, too secure. They would have brought him down eventually in any case. He never toed the party line. He thought his money bought him immunity. I always realized it never would."

"So instead you brought him down," Avon purred. "I'm sure he valued the distinction. Do you know how he died, Aric? He put a gun to his head and blew his brains out. Ah, no one told you that, did they? Maybe the Federation would have brought him down, but they never had the chance. You gave them his life on a platter." He made an impatient sound. "But never mind that, because now you're back. We'll save your life and you can be content to be a figurehead for the rebellion."

Aric stared at him in horror. "I never knew that. They told me he and Mother were dead, of course, but they gave me no details. They even told me about you being sent to Cygnus Alpha, but not that you'd joined forces with Blake. I'm sorry, Kerr."

"You're sorry." Avon shook his head. "That, of course, makes all the difference,"

He started to stalk off the flight deck when Aric called, "Kerr?"

Avon stopped without turning.

"It would have been better if I'd ended it down there on Paternus, wouldn't it?"

Avon spun around furiously. "That's right. Take the easy way out. Damn you, you are going to live. I don't intend you to escape. You can remember every day of your life." He shuddered. "I forbid you to die. I won't lose…" His voice trailed off, and he walked off the flight deck without looking back.

In the passage, he half collided with Blake who had no doubt been listening. Yes, he could see it in Blake's eyes. Now he'd have no peace from the man. With an impatient curse, he shoved past Blake and headed for his cabin. Though he could feel Blake's eyes upon his back until he rounded a bend, the other man didn't call him back.

*****

They neared Space Command Headquarters three days later, and everyone came to the flight deck for the final approach. Shivan was fading again. The molocan had kept him going but it was starting to lose its effectiveness. He was shaky on his feet and seemed lightheaded or dizzy much of the time. Blake had managed to overhear the discussion between him and Avon a few days before and understood what was between them. He could see bitterness in Avon's face and a trace of guilt in Shivan's.

He had spent hours discussing rebellion with the exiled revolutionary, and his fondest hope was that Shivan would recover and take his proper place within the growing resistance movement. Be might be best equipped to unite the rebel groups on different planets, coordinating them into a strong, cohesive force against the Federation. He would be wasted on Liberator, even if it hadn't meant losing Avon, and Blake didn't want to lose Avon.

Now that he knew about Shivan's rebel career and its effect upon his family, Blake felt he had come closer to understanding Avon, though that didn't make dealing with him any easier. He was forced to pretend he had overheard nothing, for Avon would fiercely resent any invasion of his privacy. The man was difficult enough at the best of times. Blake valued him in spite of it, more than he valued any of the others, even Jenna, who offered support when he needed it, or Cally, who believed in his Cause so strongly. It was Avon he wanted at his side, wanted to join him in his fight. Now he understood why Avon would not make a commitment to the rebellion. Yet Avon stayed, Blake knew he wanted the Liberator, but quite often he was able to convince himself that Avon stayed for more reason than that. Perhaps he was a foolish optimist, as Avon had often claimed, but he was learning to see past the surface Avon. He was even beginning to understand Avon's complaints and resentments for the smokescreen they often were.

Look at his reason. Somewhere along the way, Avon had taken it over, devising a scheme to thwart Servalan. He had accused his brother of destroying their family and claimed to hate him for it, but he had given himself away at the end of his argument. No matter how ambivalent his feelings were for Shivan, he didn't want to lose him. Blake wondered if Avon's feelings for him were as ambivalent. How much of Shivan did Avon see in him? Was that why Avon seemed determined to hold him at arms' length?

Blake shook his head. He'd probably never know.

"We are approaching teleport range, Blake," Avon reported. "We need Servalan's coordinates, Orac?"

"I am working," Orac returned fussily. "Kindly do not interrupt."

"Give us Servalan's coordinates," Avon prodded.

"I am presently determining them. Wait."

The delay seemed interminable, but in reality could have been no more than twenty or thirty seconds. "I have her," Orac announced. "I am setting the teleport coordinates. I suggest those who are teleporting make their way to the teleport section immediately."

Avon left without looking back, and Blake followed him. Both men had already armed themselves and each had a backup teleport bracelet in case of problems.

Cally seated herself at the controls and pushed a button to record the coordinates. "That should speed retrieval," she announced. "How long do you want us to wait, Avon?"

"Ten minutes should be sufficient. We will not risk contact. When you make your return pass, set your controls on a wide beam to allow for any displacement."

She nodded.

"Coming into range now, Blake," Jenna's filtered voice came over the speaker. "Stand ready. Ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven…" As she completed the countdown, Blake and Avon took out their guns and Cally reached for the control levers.

"Now!"

They materialized right in front of Servalan. She was seated at a desk studying a report on a vidscreen, but at their arrival she jerked her head up in astonishment, then smiled complacently.

"Why, Blake, Avon, I have been expecting you to drop in. How good of you to come so promptly."

Avon went forward and grasped her arm. "You know what we want, Servalan."

"I know you will not get it. This room is rigged with an intruder alarm. I program the number of people into my system each time I enter. If that number is exceeded, an alarm sounds. My troops will be...what are you doing?"

As she spoke, Avon calmly removed a syringe from his pocket and plunged the needle into Servalan's arm. "Fetterin venom, Servalan. I thought perhaps you would enjoy knowing how it felt."

"Damn you, Avon," she spat. "My people will kill you for this."

"Then they will kill you along with me, Supreme Commander. I alone know the exact dose with which you have been injected. No one on the ship knew I planned this, so the information is not available elsewhere. Contact your personnel and tell them to stay out."

She glared at him, then flew to the controls on her desk and pushed a button. "Stand down. This is a drill. No one is to enter my office."

"I realized when we last saw you on Earth that you valued your elegant hide over the success of any mission," Avon said smoothly. "You will be given the appropriate dosage when my brother has been treated and Orac has assured me of his survival."

She stared at him with a combination of loathing and respect, and there was fear in the depths of her eyes. "Why, Avon, of course I will help you with your brother's cure. I injected him with 300 milligrams of the venom. You will find that it saves his life. Now, the dosage with which I have been injected?"

"I see you think me a fool, Servalan. No. You will not receive the treatment until I am sure of Shivan's recovery."

"You mean to kill me," she burst out. "'Why should I help you?"

"Because I gave you my word. If my brother lives, you will have the information you need."

"I am hardly likely to believe that."

Blake, who had remained silent while this little drama had been enacted before him, suddenly stepped forward. "If Avon gives his word, he means it. You have mine as well, Servalan. Don't judge us by your standards."

"I am hardly likely to take the word of convicted...what are you doing now?"

"Ensuring your cooperation," Avon returned as he removed a spare teleport bracelet from his pocket and fastened it round her wrist. "You are coming with us, Servalan."

"Is that how you keep your word?" she spat at him

"It is exactly how I keep my word. Orac will assure you I have given you the correct dosage and will monitor the treatment."

She reached for the bracelet to tear it off, only to freeze into utter immobility as the tip of Avon's gun came to rest just behind her ear.

"I shouldn't move, Servalan. And, were I you, I should pray that your troops obey your orders and do not choose to come in here."

"Even if they don't, they'll be monitoring the Liberator. You will never get away with this. I shall break you, Avon. You cannot withstand my drugs and programming. I shall have the information from you one way or the other."

"You shall have the information, if my brother lives."

"Since Avon alone knows it," Blake interjected, surreptitiously checking his watch to see if it was yet time for the Liberator's return. "It is to your advantage to keep him alive. If your troops come in here, I expect you to order them to drop their weapons."

"Then neither will Avon kill me, for fear I have given him the wrong information." She pushed away from the gun and reached for the bracelet again, but Avon gripped her wrist and twisted, causing her to cry out in pain. She struggled against him until the teleport claimed them once more and took them home to the Liberator.

Cally didn't react to the sight of Servalan. When Avon held out his hand, she put a pair of restraints into it, and Avon secured them around the Supreme Commander's wrists behind her back. "This way," he ordered, guiding her toward the medical unit.

"You knew what he intended?" Blake asked Cally.

"Yes. I helped him prepare the injection. He called it 'poetic justice' and I agreed with him. Nothing but her own safety could pry the necessary information from Servalan." She hit the intercom before they left the teleport section. "They're back, Jenna. Get us out of here and send Shivan to the medical unit."

*****

The dose Servalan insisted had been used on Shivan fell within Orac's specifications, so Cally drew up the injection while Avon and Blake prepared him, attaching the appropriate monitors. Removing the wrist restraints from Servalan, they put her in a bed, using the same restraints they had used on Gan when his limiter malfunctioned, and this time, Cally didn't object. Perhaps she felt Servalan deserved it.

Orac monitored the distilled venom given to Shivan. "It will take about two hours to determine if the correct dosage has been given," the computer informed them. "I will monitor its progress."

"What about me?" Servalan asked. "When will I be given the antidote?"

"As I told you,"Avon hissed, "you will be given it if--and only if--Orac confirms the dosage for Shivan."

"I told you the correct dosage. You have my word on it, Avon."

"I prefer Orac's proof." He drew up a chair and sat down, folding his arms across his chest. His eyes never left his brother, but he was alert to Servalan, though she could not escape. Blake watched them both, aware of Servalan's considering eyes as they shifted from Avon to Shivan and back again. She had found a weakness and was considering how it might best be exploited. For once, Blake wished Avon would have an argument with his brother and disabuse her of this dangerous notion. Avon was not easily exploited, and he was more than likely to deny a commitment than to react as expected. But he could attack if need be, and Blake suspected that if Servalan tried to threaten Avon with his brother in future, Avon would resolve the crisis by removing Servalan.

As the two hours passed, Vila popped in from time to time to see how it was going, as well as Jenna. Cally remained in the medical unit, as did Blake. He was reluctant to leave Servalan, though she was harmless like this. Harmless? She was never harmless. She might be confined by the restraints, but her mind was furiously active, planning to turn all this to her advantage.

A little after two hours had passed, Orac confirmed the dosage. "It is enough," it reported. "The poison is being neutralized throughout the patient's system."

"Then he will recover?" asked Cally when Avon did not speak.

"Yes. He will recover completely from the fetterin poisoning."

Avon turned to Orac. "From the fetterin poisoning? Is there any other threat we should know about, Orac?"

"No. There is none." Orac was huffy, irritated that it should be questioned.

"Is this genuine concern I see?" Servalan asked. "Why, Avon, I should never have believed it."

"What you believe does not concern me," he spat in her direction, rising and heading for the door.

"Avon!" she cried imperatively.

"Yes, Servalan?"

"The dosage. My antidote. You will give it now?"

Avon hesitated. "It is a pity I gave you my word," he remarked. "The dosage is 150 milligrams. It would have taken you the longer to die, Servalan, had I withheld the information." He opened the door and left without looking back.

"Avon kept his word," Blake remarked to Cally.

"True. Did we give her ours?"

"You will give me the counter dosage immediately," Servalan commanded, a trace of alarm creeping into her voice.

"Will we?" Blake smiled. He waited just long enough for her alarm to become visible, then nodded to Cally. "Prepare an injection.

"I am not certain we have enough of the venom left," Cally admitted, checking the supply. Servalan looked like she was turning purple with rage before the Auron lifted her head. "Yes, we have it." She prepared a syringe carefully and gave it to the Supreme Commander. "Orac will monitor you. I am sorry, but you must stay in restraints until Orac has cleared you. I consider such things barbaric, but I consider it even more so to have injected Shivan in order to trap Avon and the rest of us. You would be well served if we did not treat you."

"Avon gave me his word," Servalan burst out.

"That is the only reason I continue the treatment."

Blake had to smile. Cally could be utterly relentless when necessary.

"How is Shivan?" he asked.

Cally abandoned Servalan without a backward look and went to check him. "Sleeping. He will sleep for many hours and when he awakens, he will feel much better. Orac will continue to monitor him. I will stay here."

Blake passed her his gun. "Just in case."

She took it. "Where are you going?"

"To find Avon."

*****

Finding Avon once again proved difficult. Zen was singularly unhelpful, stating only that Avon was not on the flight deck. Vila suggested his cabin, but Avon wasn't there either. This time, Blake ran him to earth in the lower decks, where he had gone with no other motive than avoiding Blake, if his dismay at the rebel's arrival was any indication.

"You never give up, do you, Blake?" he asked resentfully

"No. I think you had a good idea with Servalan. I can't think of anything else that would have made her hold her troops at bay."

"Why is everyone continually surprised when I come up with the obvious solution to a problem, Blake?"

Possibly because you don't always bother." Blake smiled. "I'm always glad when you do."

"A fact which does not move me unduly."

"I've spent a lot of time talking to your brother," Blake volunteered, looking around the near-empty storage room, and choosing a small crate to sit on. "He knows he can't stay on board Liberator."

"It would be a duplication of effort in any case. Like you, he will prove a figurehead for the resistance. For the two of you to remain on the same ship will halve any effectiveness you might have separately."

"It isn't some abstract problem, Avon," Blake reminded him. "This involves you, too."

"I cannot imagine why. He will return to his rebel activities and if we meet him again it will be largely by chance. I can easily avoid him."

"He's your only relation, Avon. I'd give anything to have my family back again."

"Perhaps, but I am not you. Without his activities, I would not have been in this situation in the first place. I cannot forgive him for that."

"Maybe not," Blake replied, surprised that Avon would admit it. "But he matters to you all the same. There's something bad between you, but he'd still your brother. You might hate him, but you still love him. There's a fine line dividing the two emotions."

"I am not in the mood for a lecture," Avon replied wearily."I just want it finished, Blake. Perhaps a part of me is--glad--that he lives, but it is not a major part. Were I never to see him again, I should be content."

Blake found it hard to believe he meant it, and he ached for his friend, who seemed so suddenly bereft. It must have showed, because Avon pried himself up from his own crate and started for the door.

"Spare me your pity, Blake. I am not like you. My needs are not the same as yours."

"I know that. I only wish..."

"What, that I be more like you? That I wallow in sentiment over my long lost brother? Should that make a difference, I might consider it, but it won't. I will never welcome him. I doubt I can ever forgive him." He turned back to Blake. "Sometimes, I think it is because of him that I...resist you."

"I wondered."

"I will never be a believer, Blake. But you..." he hesitated. "You are the better man. He knew what he risked, what he caused and he didn't care. You do."

"That never makes it right."

"Playing with mud will always make you dirty. More than Aric ever did, more than most, you see the dirt and recognize it for what it is." He hesitated. "Were it in me to be a followed, Blake, I might choose to follow you. For now, I allow myself to stay. That will have to suffice."

Elation surged through Blake's veins, but he made himself respond calmly. "I'm grateful for it, Avon."

The tech nodded and walked out, and this time, Blake didn't go after him. For once, he knew exactly where he stood with Avon, and he was content.

*****

By the time the venom in Servalan's veins had been neutralized. Shivan was awake and feeling better, so Cally allowed him up and he went promptly to the flight deck, where Blake and Vila were sitting idly over a game of chess. When Blake had first started playing chess with the thief, he expected to win easily, but Vila had mopped him up in five moves. Startled, Blake had set the game up again and again Vila had defeated him. Noticing Avon's amused smirk, Blake had realized he'd been stereotyping the thief, regarding him as simply another Delta grade. Their following games had been challenging. Vila won handily more than he lost. Sometimes he even beat Avon, who would never allow Vila to win simply to keep the thief coming back for more. Now Blake pondered his next move while Vila sat back smugly. No doubt he viewed it as some kind of complicated lock and planned out his steps well in advance.

Shivan wandered in and joined them at the board. "Chess, eh. Kerr used to beat me regularly. I hated it. He was four years younger and was not supposed to win like that."

"He mostly wins here too," Vila replied. "I think Blake's beat him twice. I, course, beat him regularly."

"Every tenth game," Blake interjected. "If you count that as regularly. How are you feeling, Shivan?"

"Human again, though I'm still weak. Cally's got me on a medication which will strengthen my blood vessels and she says I'm to take it for the next six weeks. It will counter the damage the fetterin did."

"Sit down and watch the game," Vila invited

"No. I'd like to talk to Kerr. Do you know where he is?"

"Not at the moment," said Blake. "I shouldn't were I you. He means what he says."

"I only wanted to thank him for taking a risk for me."

"I shouldn't do that either," Vila piped in. "He and your parents took many risks for you already. Better not remind him of it."

Blake turned to Vila in astonishment, wondering how the thief knew that. But Vila had ways of finding things out that still surprised him.

"He'll never forgive me for that, will he?" Shivan asked heavily, collapsing onto the couch beside Vila.

"No, I don't think he will," Vila replied. "I wouldn't either. If I were you, I'd take what I could get and be happy with it. Go off and play your rebel games and maybe one day you can talk to him again." He caught himself and looked around uneasily as if he was afraid someone had noticed him talking sense. "Mind you," he babbled on, "I'm just a Delta grade. What do I know?"

"I think that you know more than you want any of us to know," Shivan observed with a sad smile. "You play the fool, Vila, but the fool must be wise man." He turned to Blake. "Be grateful for him, Blake. Just as I will be grateful for you."

"For rescuing you from Paternus?" Blake asked, though he knew that was not what the older rebel meant.

"No," replied Shivan gravely. "For being my brother's friend. If he ever comes around, if he ever accepts me again, it will be because of you." He climbed wearily to his feet, still a little stiff. "I'll go to rest now. Cally advised that too."

Blake and Vila watched him leave, his shoulders slumping a little, then Vila turned his face back to the chessboard. That his mind was elsewhere was soon betrayed, when he spoke slowly. "I feel sorry for him, Blake."

"For Shivan? Or for Avon?"

"Shivan, I think. But Avon, too. I think being unable to forgive someone must hurt as much as knowing you don't deserve forgiveness." Then before Blake could remark on it, he said quickly, "It's your move, Blake. Think I'm going to wait here until the Federation finds us just because you can't make up your mind?"

Blake chuckled and applied himself to the game once more.

*****

It was decided to teleport Servalan to the planet Jarron, which was along their present course. Unknown to her, Shivan would be set down there, too, at different coordinates, for there was a growing rebel movement there that he might find and join. He was provided with the proper codes to get in touch with Avalon.

They teleported Servalan first. Jenna went down with her to bring back her teleport bracelet and returned with it immediately. "She was angry," she reported. "We came down more than a kilometer from the city, and in those shoes, she will have a very uncomfortable walk." She couldn't help laughing. "Her blisters will remind her of us for some time to come."

"It is a pity we had to free her at all," Cally replied. "But at least we're rid of her."

"She'll be all the more determined to get us after this," Vila retorted from his position at the teleport controls. "I don't like it."

"Go fetch Shivan," Blake suggested to him. "Tell him it's time to put him down."

Vila got up reluctantly. "Why do I always have to do the running around? Why not send Cally? She's fit, after all. I'm still recovering from a major injury."

"Major injury," scoffed Jenna with a gesture at Vila's completely healed wrist. "Who was demonstrating the Mark 6 chrono-lock for me just this morning. You showed amazing dexterity for a wounded hero."

"Oh well. In that case," Vila muttered and went grumbling away down the passage.

"Does Avon know it's time to send Shivan down?" Jenna asked.

"I told him," Blake replied.

"And he's not coming? I'd think even Avon would want a chance to say goodbye to his brother."

"There's a lot between them," Blake returned, reminding himself that Jenna was not party to Avon's family history.

"That may be. But for all we know, they may never meet again. It's a big galaxy, out there. If it were me..."

"It isn't you," Cally pointed out. "Avon may regret it. But he will do what he feels he must."

Vila returned so quickly that Blake realized Shivan must have been waiting just out of sight of Servalan so she would not guess he was going to Jarron too. "Here he is, Blake. He was just coming along."

Shivan looked better. He had started to gain some weight and he no longer moved as if every step were painful. He took the bracelet Cally passed him and stepped onto the platform with Jenna, who would go down again to retrieve his bracelet. "I want to thank you for everything," the elder Avon said, looking at each of them in turn. "You went out of your way for me and it put you in jeopardy."

"But the threat no longer hangs over us," Cally reminded him. "And you are free to begin a new life."

"And quite free of my old one," he agreed, trying to sound as if that were an advantage. But grief lurked untapped in the back of his eyes, and he avoided looking at any of them directly. "I'll contact Avalon as you suggest, Blake," he went on quickly. "I'm sure she can find a use for me, even if it's nothing more important than making the odd speech or two. At least I'll accomplish something." He caught his breath. "It seems I must do something important. I doubt anything short of winning the war will satisfy Kerr, but I can but try. If nothing else, I'm glad I had a chance to see him one more time and to learn what good friends he has."

Vila pretended to be sick at the very idea, but he didn't deceive Shivan.

"Live your own life according to your beliefs, "Blake told him. "You can't change the past, but maybe we can both change the future. I hope we'll meet again one day."

Shivan stuck out his hand and Blake shook it. "Put him down, Vila," Blake instructed.

When Jenna had returned to the ship, she and Cally went off toward the flight deck, and Vila shut down the teleport while Blake stood there a moment, thinking of Shivan. "I'm going, Blake," Vila hesitated in the doorway before setting off after the two women. "Aren't you coming?"

"In a minute." He listened to Vila's footsteps clattering away, then he turned abruptly to the other entrance. "Avon?"

After a long pause that made him suspect he was mistaken after all, Avon appeared around the corner. Though he gave no justification for his presence, Blake knew he had come for only one reason, for a final look at his brother. Though he had been unwilling to speak to him, he had wanted that much. Blake looked at him sadly. Vila was right. Being unable to forgive was a hard thing. He hoped it wasn't a permanent condition.

"Well, Blake?" said Avon tartly, a trace of wariness in his manner.

Blake sighed. Better to leave it all unspoken. "Walk along with me to the flight deck?" he asked. "It's time to remind Orac he still hasn't found Star One."

The end

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