With a start he came awake, wondering wearily where he was. The ground beneath him was hard and the air in his lungs was cold. He moved to sit up but the lead in his muscles held him down. In the silence he could hear the thud of his heart, the swish of blood in his veins, the rasp of his breathing and knew he was alive. He wondered how and why. The last thing he remembered was hanging between the darkening sky and the shadowed drop, unable to move or think. He had waited for death then, with the same certainty that he had waited in the tracking gallery, but it seemed that death had ignored him again.

For a moment he lay still, staring up into the darkness. There was no feeling in mind or body, every sense was numb, even the sense of coldness in his lungs was passing. No fear, no discomfort, no thought. Nothing. Avon lay and explored the strange absence of feeling, but he wasn’t afraid, this numbness was the most welcome sensation in a long while.

Memory stirred again. No, there was more. The flyer, Soolin had brought him here in a flyer. So Soolin was somewhere. Except that she wasn’t Soolin was she? Just someone with Soolin’s face and voice. A light flashed upwards through the cave of his mind, they had got the voice right too but how had they known to do that? Had Soolin betrayed him too, co-operated with Servalan? The light started to die, then flared again briefly. If she had then why the substitute? More questions to file away, to wait for the time when he might be able to find the answers.

The light faded away again leaving only deepening shadows. Yet he could still only think of the woman who had saved him as Soolin, even she seemed to think of herself that way. Not surprising though, they might not have conditioned her into believing she was Soolin but he had no doubt they had helped her identification with the real woman a little. A small surge of adrenaline set his nerves tingling as a new thought swam up from somewhere. If they had time. Time, he mustn’t forget about time.

Another wave of fatigue washed over him stealing the interest that had stirred. It left him empty. Thought and feeling ebbed away and nothingness crept back to sit on his chest. Avon didn’t notice.

In the darkness Soolin leant back against the walls of the cave and rubbed her hands, trying to smooth away the pain. Avon wasn’t a light weight and the rope had burned her as she had hauled him up. Exhaustion had hit him as heavily as any cosh and he had been a dead weight at the end of the rope, incapable of even hearing her let alone being of any help. Not that it had mattered at the time; she had barely noticed the weight. Or the rope sliding through her hands, or biting into her flesh when she had knotted it around her waist, leaning into it to help pull his weight those last few painful inches. But no,w as the drugs began to retreat, the pain in her hands was becoming insistent and the bruising around her ribs niggled at every breath. But she didn’t dare take anything to ease it, not yet.

The drug levels were falling quickly and the recoil was beginning. She had known it would come, the creeping feeling of fatigue and hopelessness, the threatening darkness that was the price of the temporary power they had conferred. Soolin shivered, the desire to escape it, to feel the surge of strength, of confidence and exhilaration, again was almost overwhelming. Painkillers might rob her of the resolve to stay away from the tempting phials. She had known it would happen and had been prepared, after all it wasn’t the first time, it was a standard part of training. But one more dose and it would become very much more difficult, particularly here in the cold and the dark. So the painkiller would have to wait until the worst of the readjustment was over. She shivered as she looked at Avon staring blankly into the darkness, she would make it through, she had too, because for the moment she was on her own.

Soolin shivered again, he lay where he had collapsed after she had helped him, barely awake, from the flyer. In the shadows he was unmoving and silent, and she knew that no help or companionship could be expected of him for some considerable time. She was glad of it because while he was so obviously vulnerable she would be able to withstand the siren call of the drugs, knowing only too well that the confidence they bred could be fatal in such a place and with no backup. His dependence would make it easier to ride out the worst of the recoil.

She pushed herself to her feet and returned to flyer. Pulling the packs from the rear seat she carefully removed the shield generator, breathing a sigh of relief as its active light glowed in the darkness. While it operated it was unlikely they would have been detected. Carefully she set it at the mouth of the cave before dragging the packs into the shelter of the hollowed rock.

Cave was a rather grandiose term for this spilt between two faces of rock, but it was the best she could do for the moment. The ledge outside provided convenient parking for the flyer and they were far enough below the surface to be invisible to a casual visual sighting, It wouldn’t hide them from anyone who was really looking of course, they would have to rely on the shield to do that.

Outside the wind was beginning to howl and temperature was dropping still further. Thermal sheets would be the only hope of surviving the night; the burners would make little impact here where cold seeped out from the rock as well as in with the wind. Her shivering was almost continual now and she could hear Avon’s teeth chattering, though he seemed oblivious to it along with the rest of the world. She two pulled the sheets from packs, one she wrapped around her shoulders the other she laid over Avon. He gave no sign that he was aware of her.
“Avon, can you hear me? Pull this around you.”
She paused a moment but there was no response,
“Avon.”
She shook him, his body rocked with the movement but his eyes stayed fixed on the darkness. Soolin sighed and reached over to tuck the sheet around him, where her hand brushed itthe rock wall had the temperature and texture of ice. She tightened the sheet about him, wrapping the ends firmly round his boots. The other ends she pulled up and under his head. It would have to do, but if it got much colder she would have to try and get him back into the flyer.

She pulled her own sheet more firmly around her shoulders. In daylight she would risk flying further, looking for a more permanent shelter, somewhere she could risk sleeping too. But not tonight. She huddled down beside Avon, sliding her arm under the sheet and across his chest, twitching it back in place to cover them both. There was no point in keeping watch, either the shield did its job or it didn’t. She turned her face into the shoulder of his jacket and tightened her grip on him, then settled down to concentrate on making it through the night.

***

“Gauda Prime? They are sure?”
Blake’s voice was sharp and Vila winced at the peremptory note it held. Grant, however, seemed unconcerned and responded easily.
“Yep, as sure as they can be. Orac has been checking the information as it came in, as you instructed. Kearne knows better than most what it means, but you can run it through Liberators battle and strategy computers if you want.”
“No, Kearne knows his business. Why there though?” Blake sounded genuinely interested.
Grant’s voice conveyed a shrug,
“Don’t know. It’s just like a hundred other frontier worlds as far as we can tell. Federation presence pretty much withdrawn, a few installations still in working order but unmanned. Pretty much left to itself since the war. Not a nice place to be, and probably no less dangerous than when the Federation ran it.

“Friendly?” that was Jenna.
“What’s friendly?” Grant responded. “If it has followed the pattern of elsewhere on the frontier there will have been bloodshed, even after the war was over. Slaves revolting and taking revenge, and probably some rebels and deserters aiding them. Bounty hunters setting up shop. Local gang masters trying to hold on to the old order. Friendly depends on who you are and where you are.”
“Doesn’t sound healthy,” Vila chipped in. “So why take him there? If she wants him dead there are easier ways. Quicker too.”
“Kearne has his own views about that. There is a part of the planet that is easily secured and that houses a Federation base that seems to be intact, at least there is no information to suggest that it has been wrecked or commandeered by the locals. In fact that part of the planet is very quiet. Seems that it's heavily wooded, man made plantations established about thirty years ago to stabilise the land. Hostile place, lots of steep slopes and ravines and very sparsely populated. It might be just what Servalan would want, if he managed to get away there would be nowhere for him to go to. There is a working port but its some way from the base, you’d never make it on foot given the terrain.”

“Access?” Blake sounded almost eager.
“Seems so. The base was a scientific as well as a military establishment so it must have had a landing area and hanger facilities.”
“Right, give me the co-ordinates and we’ll get underway.”
Blake didn’t even look to the others for confirmation Vila noted with a sigh. Behind him he saw Cally nod abruptly and head for her station.
“Not a good idea Blake.” Grant drawled.
“Why not?” The sharpness was back in Blake’s voice. “We can be in and away before they know we were there.”
“No you can’t. That’s another reason why Kearne is pretty sure this is the place. The equipment requested by Sleer, and traced to Gauda Prime, suggests that the base has been shielded and that a molecular shift detector of some sort has been installed. The only thing we can think of that might be used for would be to detect teleportation devices.”
“Which suggests that Kearne is right and that they are expecting Liberator to arrive at some point.” Jenna’s voice was calm.

“So it begins to look like Avon may be alive after all.” Tarrant sounded surprised.
“But why? It’s been weeks, months, she had time to get everything she wanted out of him.”
Lille joined the conversation, an unusual event these days at least when Blake was around. She looked towards Blake,
“Unless he has decided that Servalan’s offer is good enough and is helping them set a trap for us.”
“No.” Blake’s voice was cold, “I don’t think so.”
Tarrant cast him a curious look,
“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him, and a lot has happened since then. You can’t be sure of that, none of us can.”
“He’s right Blake.” They had almost forgotten that the link to Grant was still open. “There is no way of knowing what Servalan has persuaded him to do, or how. But we can be sure that quick hit, snatch, and run operation by teleport is not going to work here. This is going to take more than just a couple of you. We are talking about a full assault here, and that’s going to take planning, and it would be better if Liberator isn’t seen in the vicinity while we do it.”

Blake shook his head impatiently,
“We are running out of time Grant. We may be too late if we delay any longer.”
Grant was unmoved,
“It should be too late already. But if he’s dead why hasn’t she made it public? Or tried to draw in Liberator. If he’s still alive then something unusual is going on. But then we're living in unusual times are we? Having got this far there isn’t any point in getting him, or ourselves, killed by going in unprepared.”

Grant’s words hit Blake like a blow and he swallowed hard remembering Deva’s words before….... No, this time he would listen.
“Alright. How many?”
“Leave that to Kearne, he’s got the manpower, and if he needs more I’m sure Cauder or even Sarkoff will make up the numbers. In fact Blake it would be a good idea if Liberator was seen somewhere else while we get things arranged. We don’t want Servalan to get any idea that you might be showing an interest in Gauda Prime. Not before its strictly necessary.”

Vila watched the play of emotions on the faces around him. Irritation, anxiety, hope, fear, annoyance, they were all there. Grant’s words had caused Blake to pale and the lines to deepen around his eyes. Not for the first time he wondered what had happened to Blake in the time since the war, the other man’s current expression hinted that at least one disastrous event haunted him. Vila could only hope this wasn’t going to be another of them. 'Leave it to Kearne' he prayed silently, 'he’s not involved; he’ll get it right. If it can be got right. God I don’t want to do this' he thought turning away, 'I want Avon to be alive but I don’t want to know how or why. I just want him back, and then we can get rid of Lille before she kills us all. But I don’t want to do this. Listen to Grant Blake,' he prayed, 'please listen to Grant.'

For once it seemed that his prayers were answered. Blake agreed, the mention of Sarkoff had reminded him that it might be politic to renew his acquaintance with Lindor’s restored president. Liberator had been there several times so it shouldn’t raise any suspicions, then they could go and pick up Kearne’s people. Grant was on his way to Horizon and his technical help was already heading towards Gauda Prime. It would take time to plan but there was no choice, Servalan might have given up chasing Liberator in the conventional sense but there was no doubt that she would be planning to trap it if the opportunity was presented. Remembering Auron and Terminal Vila just hoped they could evade whatever it was she came up with.

***

Servalan read the missive again just in case, but she hadn’t misread it. Rage boiled hot, before solidifying into cold determination. Another coup being planned, this time from within Space Command itself. Not satisfied with conspiring to snatch Avon from her now they were planning to usurp her position. It would have to be dealt with, and that meant a purge of the upper echelon. She could not afford the loss of manpower, but nor could she leave them alive, all resistance must be crushed, anything else would be a fatal weakness.

Why did they do it? Why couldn’t they see she was the only hope they had to restore order and regain what had been stolen? Without her it would all be lost, the Federation fading into just another fallen empire, living only within a history text, inviting the scrutiny and judgement of little minds incapable of understanding its glory, its rightness. Servalan sighed and opened her private communications channel. The order was easily given, Kant had hesitated as if he couldn’t believe what he was being told to do, but she had quickly forced him to believe it.

He would obey her, she had no doubt of his loyalty, but his uncertainty still rankled. Keeping ahead got harder every day.

She drifted around her quarters, picking things up and putting them down, stroking the petals of the flame red flowers sitting in the vases, remembering better days when she was secure. Those days were gone, Travis had seen to that. A bitter smile crossed her face, who would have thought it? All the therapists had done was turn the loaded weapon he had become away from Blake and towards the Federation’s temple. They’d lived to regret it, of course. Just about.

It had killed Blake too; the man who had released Sarkoff and hit headquarters hadn’t been the man who died on Jevron. That man had died at Star One, or maybe even Control. The reports of those involved had made that clear. The Blake at Jevron had been a madman, as mad as Travis, and as foolhardy and arrogant, petulant and dictatorial. She had long since given up regretting that others had killed him, it was enough that he was dead. He was one problem that wouldn’t come back to haunt her.

Unlike Avon.

If they didn’t find him soon then she would have to accept that he was lost and take steps accordingly. But for the moment she needed to concentrate on destroying the enemies nearer to home. She would deal with the coup and its consequences and if they still hadn’t found Avon then she would make one last trip to Gauda Prime to oversee its destruction.

***

Time had died and with it the light. Darkness seemed natural to him and the pit of darkness was deep, so deep that he couldn’t imagine that light would ever break in. Somewhere in the inner fortress of his mind images were stirring again. Even in shadowy outline they were familiar. Blake, and the others. Not gone then, merely hiding, waiting, biding their time as once Anna had. She was gone, but now the others were waiting. A faint feeling of apprehension stirred in the numbness, a tiny spot of texture in the blankness of his thoughts. But he was tired, so tired, too tired to wonder about anything. Far too tired even to wish for sleep. Too tired to move or to care. So he lay and stared into the darkness.

For a long while the darkness and the silence was all there was, then suddenly he became aware of his body again. A hand was gripping his shoulder, long slender fingers, skin pale in the dim light. Wearily he turned his head towards the owner of the hand. Slowly her face came into focus, Soolin, he could see anxiety in her eyes, and, for a moment, wondered why she cared when he no longer did. He stared at her for a while then led his eyes slide away to the darkness again.
“Avon, it getting light, we need to move. The weather has improved and it’s not safe to stay here any longer.”
Her fingers tightened about his arm and she shook him gently,
“Come on, we need to go now, unless you want to give up and let yourself be caught.”

It took a moment for the meaning of her words to filter through. He looked at her again; she was crouched over him holding something out to him, something small and dark against the pale of her skin. Avon reached for it, but his fingers were clumsy with fatigue and he couldn’t grasp it, after two failed attempts she gave up and held it to his mouth. He blinked at her for a moment then parted his lips allowing her to place it onto his tongue; it took three attempts to swallow it. A cup followed the pill and after a moments hesitation he drank. The contents of the pill exploded within him, forcing back the waves of exhaustion, he blinked as heat sparked in his muscles and the leaded feeling retreated. Not far, but far enough to allow him to sit. Holding the position shakily he dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes.

“It won’t do much for you but it should get you as far as the flyer. When we get somewhere more secure you can rest, that’s all you need Avon, to rest. It’s caught up with you. I’m only surprised it’s taken this long. Some sleep and you will be fine.”
She watched as he nodded wordlessly and forced himself to his knees and then his feet. Finally he headed towards the flyer; even now she could see he was leaning heavily against the wall as he moved. Picking up the last of the packs she followed him out. She had risked leaving the flyer open and watched silently as he half slid half fell into the seat. Even with the medication he moved as if in a dream and it could only be a matter of time before sleep claimed him. Just let him make it to cover she pleaded, then he could sleep all he wanted.

As the flyer climbed into the open she cast a surreptitious look at him. His eyes were fixed on the sky the pupils wide and dark even in the growing light, and he seemed unaware of her scrutiny. She set the course, checked that the shield was still operating and directed her attention to the console.

“Where are we going?” His voice took her by surprise.
“Back into the plantations, there’s another mine head about thirty miles west, it’s deserted but looks as if the accommodation block may have survived.”
She risked a look at him, his eyes were nearly black in the pale face but he seemed as alert as she had seen him in the last twenty-four hours.
“It should do as shelter. We might even find some food there,” she added.
Avon nodded once then seemed to lose interest, his eyes drifting back to the horizon. Soolin watched him for a moment then turned her attention back to the detectors, a lot could happen in thirty miles.

***

Lille sat in her quarters and stared at the small device on the bench, then reluctantly she pushed it away with a sigh. She had waited too long for that to be of any real use. Even with Blake dead there was no reason to believe the others would abandon the current course of action. Kearne had made plans and even Tarrant seemed committed to them. In two hours they would make orbit around Lindor, another day and they would be on their way down the Kord corridor again and on a path she would give almost anything to avoid.

She reached out a tentative finger and stroked the smooth dull case, but if they didn’t find Avon then there might still be a use for this, an opportunity to get things back on course. Not finding Avon would seal Blake’s fate too. Even if they did find him she might still have a day or two. Time for him to unlock those codes buried in Orac and Zen, time for her to learn about his overrides and the other little booby traps she was sure he had scattered about. Time for her to learn what she needed, what she hadn’t been able to discover for herself.

Then he would have to die of course, she couldn’t leave him to others and it seemed unlikely he would throw in his lot with her. If Servalan couldn’t persuade him how could she?

The others might be useful, though she wasn’t so sure about Illyan. No she rather thought that Illyan would have to go the way of Avon, pity really because he was a good engineer and they were valuable. Her fingers continued to caress the device as her mind wandered over events, it was their own fault, if only they had been more trusting of her, and less trusting of Avon, none of this would have been necessary. It shouldn’t have been like this, if only Avon hadn’t been so devious and if the others had asked him more questions. It still surprised her that Tarrant seemed to have so little idea of what Avon had done. Not that she minded that, she had no desire to hurt Tarrant; though she wouldn’t mind a little sport with Avon if the opportunity presented itself. The anger rose in her as she thought about the careful plans he had undermined even in his absence.

She checked the display; they would be congregating on the flight deck now. Lille got to her feet, she’d better join them, and she couldn’t afford any more suspicion just yet. With a final look at the contents of the workbench she got to her feet, straightened her back and palmed the lock.

***

Carson wrapped his hands around the hot cup and let the heat sink into his cold hands, he’d done three straight shifts with the search teams now and he was both tired and uncomfortable. The weather on slopes surrounding the base had come as a shock and made Jocasta’s certainty that Avon was still alive seem more like wishful thinking than logical deduction.

The snow was deep, even on the lower slopes, and extended well within the tree cover. Whipped by freezing winds that seem to slice through even cold weather suits, the deep drifts changed the shape of the landscape in ways that held a hundred traps for the unwary or inexperienced. At least two troopers had needed to be hauled out of hidden ditches and they had lost one over a ravine. Personally Carson was now sure that Avon was at the bottom of a similar drop. Yet Jocasta insisted that the game went on, that he was still alive. Servalan too seemed unable to accept the reality of his death, though he thought he had caught the first hint of desperation in her eyes when making his report. Yet still she had echoed Jocasta’s words,
“Avon isn’t ready to die yet. He is still out there, just find him.”
Carson suppressed a bitter sigh; even with purloined equipment he didn’t give the other man much of a chance. He gave the woman even less.

Nor, it seemed, did Elliot. The doctor’s face had become greyer and more pinched as the days had passed. Now he looked like a sad ghost haunting the corridors, or feverishly computing possibilities in the medical centre. It was there that Carson had gone in search of someone to talk to when he found that even exhaustion couldn’t help him sleep.
“Why are they so sure he is alive?” he had complained. “He’s a dome bred civilian for God’s sake, how the hell would he survive out there?”
“Soolin would have told us if he was dead.” Elliot’s voice sounded harsh and strained as if he had spent hours shouting or crying.
“If she could.” Carson regretted the words even as he said them, looking away from the naked misery that suddenly appeared in the other man’s face. But there was no point in pretending. “Even assuming Avon hasn’t found her out and killed her she has as much chance of falling off a ridge or freezing to death as he has. I didn’t think the weather would break so quickly, but you should see it out there, snow and ice is all you can see.”

“They have equipment. She told you that.” Elliot recited it like a mantra, one that Carson was sure he had repeated to himself many times in the last week.
He couldn’t suppress the snort,
“Well if it’s enough to keep them alive then your teams have equipment that ours don’t.”
“Yes.”
Carson looked at him and wondered what he meant. It occurred to him just how little he knew about these people and what they were capable of. Not that it mattered; they had bought him a long time ago. For the first time in many years he wondered why.

“So you think he might still be alive?”
Elliot’s face was a stiff mask of misery,
“I have to Carson. It’s the only way.”
Carson’s mouth twisted and he looked back down at his cup;
“Yes I suppose you do. But even Servalan must have doubts now, why else did she leave so quickly.” A sudden doubt took him, “And what will she do if she decides he’s dead?”
Elliot gave him a hard look,
“You know the answer to that as well as I do. We’re all dead unless we get away first.”
“Jocasta seems to think she can avoid that.” Carson was uncomfortable speaking the name.
Elliot didn’t seem to notice but gave a cold dry laugh.
“Well let’s hope she’s right.” He paused then shrugged, “but her reputation is good, if I have to rely in any one for my life I’d prefer it to be her. She’s as ruthless as Servalan in her way, it just shows less.”

Carson didn’t get a chance to answer that, his words were stopped by the bleep of his communicator. The message was short; the orbital scanners had picked up unidentified craft. Civilian, unarmed as far as they could tell but definitely not expected.' What was as expected on this damn planet?' he wondered as he closed the link. He rose wearily to his feet swearing under his breath at the aches that racked his warming muscles. Elliot caught the look, if not the words, and reached silently for a bottle. Carson accepted the offered pills with a grunt of thanks and left the doctor to his painful thoughts, hurrying out to find put what had gone wrong now.

***

The accommodation block was shabby but intact. The bedding has seen better days, and the décor was middle period drab, but it was dry and in one of the dormitories the space heaters still worked well enough to lift the chill from the air. All they needed was to find some rations and, Soolin decided, she would start to believe in miracles.

Avon showed no interest in anything. The walk from the flyer had exhausted him again and he had collapsed onto a bunk as soon as they found the working heater. He made no attempt to help her unload the flyer, or to cover it with snow coated branches, and by the time she was finished she was ready to collapse herself. But one look at his face had stopped the angry words in her throat. She had never seen anyone look so drained; even in the last stages of his matrix life he hadn’t looked so pale and worn. He blinked at her as she stood over him, then, as the first tendrils of warmth reached him, his head had slid sideways and his eyes closed.

That treacherous protective affection surged again and she found herself covering him with a blanket. She caught herself smiling as he turned onto his side, one hand draped bonelessly over the edge of the bunk, and laughed at herself as she tucked the hand back under the blanket.

Summoning the last of her energy she set the shield and primed the detectors, then sat down on the next bunk. The drugs she'd taken were gone now but the depression and hopelessness was fading, nothing like having to fight to stay alive to kick the recoil it seemed. She pulled the gun from her belt and laid it beside the thin pillow, no use in pretending she could stay awake but with luck the detectors and the shield would deal with any passing bounty hunter. It might not be so successful with Servalan’s people; and Jocasta’s, well who could know? But there was no point in worrying, like Avon she needed to sleep. She would search the place when she woke, somehow she didn’t think Avon would wake in the near future.

Soolin fell asleep on that thought.

***

Kearne knew his job there was no doubt of that. The planning was meticulous, even Orac had approved. Well it hadn’t made any snide remarks about human illogic and similar failings, and it seemed to Vila that was about as close to approval as anything flesh and blood was likely to get from the electronic ego.

For himself he wasn’t sure whether to be glad that something was going to happen or frightened about what might happen, so he settled for doing both. He was getting good at it he realised. At least he had something concrete to be frightened about now, rather than just his real, but nebulous, fears about Lille. Or Illyan come to that.

He had finally plucked up the courage to challenge Illyan about his surveillance but it hadn’t got him very far. Those friendly eyes had got a little distant for a moment, but then the smile returned as warm as ever, and he had assured Vila that he had misunderstood what he had overheard. 'Ask Orac' he had said; 'I have no hidden codes, nothing that you can’t ask about.' So Vila had tried and Orac had assured him there was nothing being kept from him and the others. He’d been reassured at the time. It was only later he had realised that to get the truth out of Orac you had to know the right questions to ask. Illyan might not be as devious as Avon but he was quite clever enough to make sure that Vila didn’t know those questions. Vila was willing to accept that the laconic Illyan might be every bit as manipulative as Blake. The realisation was not comforting.

Certainly not now, by tomorrow they would be on their way to Gauda Prime with no knowledge of what awaited them there, other than that it probably would involve a fight. Vila shuddered at the thought, but at least thinking about the fight stopped him thinking about finding Avon again. Avon had been gone too long for Vila to be happy thinking about what might be waiting for them.

But that thought he kept to himself.

End of part 2