Soolin put the wine glass down on the shelf and sank deeper into the scented water, watching the play of the candle light on the bubbling surface through narrowed eyes. The water foamed like the wine, swirling around her limbs and caressing the tired flesh back to life. It felt good to be warm again, and to be clean. She settled lower into the bath tub allowing the water to rise to her chin, feeling it lap gently at the base of her neck just below the heavy knot of her hair. With a sigh she let the tensions seep from her muscles, taking with them all the anxiety of the last few weeks.

Above her the soft, mellow, light of the candles flickered on the high arched ceiling and set the shadows dancing. Tilting her head back against the pillow she watched them lazily. Each flicker sent a wave of delicate perfume eddying around her, complimenting that rising in the steam from the milky, softened water. Soolin stretched letting the feeling of relief wash over her, she was glad to be home, she would never take it, or its comforts, for granted again.

Certainly not now. She had brought a prize back with her, a prize both for them and for her; and she would make sure that he stayed hers. There would be competition of course, everyone would want a piece of him, but she didn’t fear that. No, she was clever enough, and beautiful enough, and they had shared things that no one else could ever begin to understand. He would stay hers and she would look after him.

Everyone had been most complimentary, most appreciative of her efforts, but that was not enough. He knew so much, and would bring them so much security, that they would reward him well. She intended to see that they did, only she knew what it had cost him, what they had been through. Oh yes, they would pay and she would stay with him to make sure that they did. It would be best that way for both of them.

She smiled to herself, a very pleasant life lay ahead for both of them both professionally and personally. She settled herself more comfortably in the water and surrendered to the daydreams.

“Soolin” his voice drifted down through the steam. She looked up into that faniliar dark stare and smiled. In the wavering light of the candles his eyes seemed huge and fathomless and the look there sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. Still smiling she raised one hand from the water and reached up to him, her damp fingers closing around his.

“Soolin,” the word was a sigh. She didn’t reply but watched silently as his fingers trailed up her arm. Closing her eyes she concentrated on the sensation, leaning her head against his hand as she felt his fingers brush her neck. Fingers that tightened around her shoulder.
“Soolin” suddenly there seemed to be more urgency in his voice, reluctantly she opened her eyes and stared up into his face, a question forming on her lips.

Now the room seemed dark and cold, the water flat and clammy. The hand tightened around her shoulders, the fingers no longer caressing.
“Avon” her speaking of his name was also a protest. Anger rose as he began to shake her.
“Wake up” his voice was peremptory. She started to protest that she hadn’t been sleeping but stopped in confusion as the candle light and steam gave way to weak daylight and chilly air. On a wave of disappointment she realised that she wasn’t at home anymore.

With an effort she pushed the remnants of sleep, and the hand on her shoulder, away. He released her immediately and stood back. Soolin scowled, angry with both and him and with herself for some reason she didn’t want to explore.
“Don’t say it,” she grumbled, “I should have been on watch, anyone could have sneaked up on us.”
Avon looked at her in apparent polite incomprehension and his voice was unusually mild
“I had no intention of saying any such thing, why do you think I would? I’m not a fool and I am perfectly aware that you have carried the burden of both our survival recently. You couldn’t go indefinitely. As long as the shield is in place we are as safe as it is possible to be on this planet.”

She searched his face for anger or resentment but didn’t find it. He did look remarkably alert however; she straightened in surprise, and he looked very, very clean. She let her eyes wander over him, he looked as if he had just come from a water shower, in fact there seemed to be a trace of moisture still darkening his hair. Suddenly she was intensely aware of her own grubby and dishevelled state.
“You look like you’ve just come from a shower!” the words came out accusingly.

A look of amused comprehension flitted across his face before it was composed into the usual expressionless mask.
“Possibly because I have.”
“Water? Clean water?” This time her tone was almost pleading.
The mask dissolved into a slight smile,
“Oh yes.”
Soolin was on her feet so quickly she nearly collided with him.
“Lead me to it, Avon, now!” she demanded. His smile widened fractionally,
“Only the first block is working. You know your way.” The last words were almost gentle and he stood back without protest as she pushed past him.

She hurried across the short distance almost oblivious of the freezing wind and the snow that flecked her suit. In side the sanitary block the air seemed warmer than she remembered and the floor around the first line of showers was slightly damp. She was dragging off her suit before she stopped to wonder how long Avon had been awake and what else he had got up to while she slept. Or if this was all a cruel joke? Revenge for that quarry perhaps?

The last question was answered quickly. She hit the control and a full bodied spray of water hissed into her upturned face, it was a second or two before she realised that the water was not only clean and plentiful but it was also warm. A surge of pure pleasure took her and she twisted and turned under the spray, feeling the rivers of water running down over her greasy skin, the force of its flow pulling the knots from her tangled hair.

The pleasure increased and became tinged with gratitude when she realised that he had left one of the few remaining hygiene cloths draped across the showerhead. She pulled it to her as if afraid it would melt away, breathing in great gulps of the steam that has started to rise from the falling water. For a moment she stood and let the torrent pound her without concious thought before finally turning her attention to getting truly clean for longer than she cared to remember.

“Ah, Avon” she thought as she scrubbed at her body, “I think I could almost love you." The gratitude verged on adoration when, shower completed, she hit the dryer button and it worked.

***

Blake had taken time to return to the Liberator and brief the technicians waiting to join them on the now secured base.

Jenna and Laski were still on the flight deck when he arrived but there was no sign of Illyan or Lille. Blake frowned, he could do without the distractions of wondering what they were up to. Jenna saw the frown yet said nothing, but when he left she followed him to his quarters.
“Something wrong?” she leant against the desk arms crossed.
Blake looked at her for a moment before pulling out a chair for her and sitting himself down on the end of the bunk. He marshalled his thoughts while she sat, trying to pin down the elusive source of his unease.
“I don’t know," he admitted slowly. "We can’t find Avon, but there is nothing else on that base that warrants any Federation presence here. The base isn't recent, given the age of some of the fixtures its obviously been abandoned at some point but parts of it have been brought up to a standard that must have cost a lot. More than I would have thought that Servalan could spare at the moment. But why Jenna? Why here? Reactivating something this far out took a lot of effort so there will be some reason for it, but there’s no sign of what it might be. Certainly no sign of anything to do with Avon.” He bit his thumb in frustration.

“Do you think he was ever here?” Jenna's brows drew together, “have we been fed misinformation? Is it all a trap?”
Blake shrugged,
“Funny sort of trap given that there is no sign of anyone that might spring it. There don't seem to be any other forces hiding anywhere and Orac and Zen haven't found any sign of recent troop movements in the area.”
Jenna’s expression hardened.
“Unless its someone on the ship with us.”
“But then why bring us here Jenna?" It was Blake's turn to frown, "Why would someone on the ship need assistance from the ground? And why wait like this.” He ran his hand over his hair impatiently, “It doesn’t make sense.”

“So what does?” Jenna leant back in the chair her eyes wandering to the ceiling. “If Avon isn’t here what is?”
“I don’t know," Bake shrugged wearily, "but there is something, we just havent found it yet. But we will.” He pushed himself to his feet. “There are enough people looking, they can’t hide it for long.”
“What else is bothering you?” Jenna hadn’t moved.
Blake sighed and sat down again.
“I’m not sure.”
She raised her eyebrows in disbelief at the uncertain tone of his voice but said nothing. After a seconds pause he shrugged again,
“Alright, it bothers me having crew I don’t know.”
“Grant’s people? Kearne? I thought you did know them.” Jenna gave a twisted smile, “or have you decided that some of us are right about Lille.”
Blake smiled in return,
“Slow am I?”
Jenna relented and gave a small laugh,
“A little perhaps,” her eyes sharpened, “then again maybe not. Was that why you were so insistent that I stay on the ship?”
Blake nodded.
“It had to be you or Cally, and it would have been a little too obvious if Cally had been left behind. You are a pilot, you are needed here, it made sense. I knew that I could trust you to deal with it if something happened.” He got up and started to pace. “You were right, there’s something going on. I’m not sure which of them is involved, or if they both are, but there is something.”

Jenna stared at the wall with narrowed eyes,
“I’d put my money on Lille, there’s just something about her I don’t trust. Illyan is no easier to read than Avon was but I think that he’s straight enough.” She paused for a moment shooting Blake an almost apologetic look, “I think Orac is involved in some way too.”
Blake’s eyebrows rose,
“Orac?” he considered that for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “Stealing Orac would make sense of course, but why wait so long?”
Jenna shrugged,
“I don’t know.” She shot him a hard look, “You don’t sound very worried about the possibility.”
Blake grinned at her,
“I’m not, I have a feeling that Avon took care of it. Would you like to take odds on how long someone stealing Orac would survive to enjoy the profit?”
Jenna laughed wryly.
“Not really. It surprised me that he accepted Tarrant and Dayna so easily.” There was something close to affection, alongside the surprise, in her voice.
“If he did.” Blake’s voice was shot with quiet laughter.
Jenna twitched an eyebrow in query, and his grin reappeared;
“I expect that there are a few more fail safes’ buried in Zen.” The smile died, “against us too”.
“Just in case Orac got it wrong?” Jenna’s tone was sober.
Blake nodded, then he snapped his fingers, a sudden amusement lighting his eyes,
“Thats it! That’s why whatever Lille or Illyan are planning hasn’t happened yet. Avon is frustrating them in just the same way he disappointed Servalan. They must have expected to be able to control Zen or Orac, but they can't.”
He lapsed into thoughtful silence, pondering the idea.

For a moment there was silence as they both thought through the ramifications of that insight.

“I wonder what it was?” Jenna was staring into space. “What turned Avon into a rebel? If anything did.” She looked up at Blake, “after all you failed.” He smiled slightly,
“Did I? I’m not so sure.” Blake sounded pensive but seemed unwilling to say any more, at least not for the moment.

Jenna got to her feet and turned to the door dropping her hand on his arm as she passed,
“Ever the optimist Blake. But I don’t think I’d have it any other way.” Her smile was warm and almost gentle. Blake closed his hand around her fingers holding her eyes with his own. His smile widened,
“I better get back down there see if they have found anything else.” His grip on her hand tightened a little. “Take care of things up here will you?”
“Watch your back you mean?” She returned the pressure of his hand before pulling away. “Don’t I always?”
She left before he could answer.

Blake stared at the door for a moment as a bubble of unexpected happiness rose though him, he revelled in the warmth it brought, shrivelling the bad memories reawakened by the last few hours.
“Yes, just as you always did,” he muttered to himself.
Just as Avon did, his mind added. Grabbing his jacket from the bunk he headed back to the teleport.

***

Blake arrived at the recreation suite to find that his immediate target was absent. Groups of nervous looking prisoners were being watched by wary eyed, taut fingered, guards but no there was no sign of their commanders. Finally he caught sight of one of the people he was looking for; on the far side of the room he could make out the gangly form of his second pilot. Tarrant was leaning against the wall watching the room while drinking occasionally from a cup of something. Blake crossed to join him.

He spoke before Tarrant could swallow his mouthful of whatever the cup held.
"Where did Grant go?"
He kept his voice low, the less the prisoners knew of their captors the better.Tarrant grimaced as he swallowed too quickly,
"To the command centre, want me to show you the way?"
"I expect I can find it, stay here and keep an eye on the security staff,” he nodded to where a large group of black clad men sat in brooding silence, “they are a little too quiet for my liking."
Tarrant had opened his mouth to protest but he closed it at Blake's last words, instead he just nodded
"Yes, I know what you mean."
Blake looked at him,
"I have a feeling that there is soemthing here that is the key to this, something or someone we haven't yet found. Somehow I don’t think its' Servalan."
Tarrant considered that for a moment,
"Someone they are waiting to see if we will find?" he ventured.
Blake nodded then turned and walked back towards the door where the doorkeepers were searching prisoners as they arrived. Kearne had appeared and was standing to one side watching the operation.

He drew further to one side as Blake approached, the black brows coming together in a slight frown as he took in Blake’s expression.
"Problem?" he asked.
Blake rubbed his jaw as he replied
"I'm not sure, it's just that they are all too docile for my liking."
Kearne nodded,
"It's almost like they are holding their breath and waiting for something to happen."
"Or someone”, Blake’s voice came slowly.
"Yes, I suppose it could be that. Maybe Servalan is somewhere on the base after all."
Blake shook his head,
"No I don’t think whatever it is involves Servalan. You saw that escape shuttle, she would have made a run for it as soon as we arrived." He smiled coldly "nothing for her to gain by staying.”
He looked around the room again,
“No I don’t think she was here. Though she may be on her way of course."

Kearne met Blake's eyes, his own expression hard and uncompromising,
"Do you think Avon is here, or has she taken him with her? Do you think he was ever here at all?"
Blake started to shrug his shoulders and then stopped, looking past Kearne to the man who was currently being processed by the door staff. The look of apprehension on the man’s face had deepened slightly and he had fixed his gaze on the ground as if hoping to avoid being noticed. A nondescript figure, slightly less than medium height with faded ginger hair, washed out blue eyes and pallid skin, dressed in basic dark brown overalls without any form of insignia. He had the anonymous look that either meant a covert intelligence officer or one of the army of low rank support staff still needed to keep a base like this functioning. Blake didn’t think this man was intelligence. He was sure the nervousness was real, and that it had just got worse.

He watched the prisoner with narrowed eyes, making sure that the other man caught his gaze as the guards pushed him forward slightly to allow others to be brought in. The man's expression had changed from a blank fatigue and disinterest, similar to most of the others in the room, to wide eyed fear. As Blake met his eyes he swallowed and turned away. For Blake that was enough, he crossed to the door and stood in front of the prisoner, his stance and expression restrainedly threatening. The man looked down at the floor again, fists clenched at his side. Blake could see his chest rising and falling as his breathing quickened. Kearne looked from Blake to the prisoner, his eyebrows raised in a mute question. Blake moved closer to the frightened man, and it was obvious to anyone that he was terrified. He spoke so softly that only he, Kearne and the prisoner could hear, just the one word, "Avon".
The man swallowed convulsively and cast a single quick glance up at Blake before looking down at the floor again. He said nothing. Blake jerked his head and Kearne moved closer.

The prisoner was now sandwiched between Blake and Kearne with barely enough room to breath. They could hear the rasp of fear with each inhalation, and see the film of sweat forming on the man’s skin.
"Avon, Kerr Avon." Blake repeated.
The man swallowed again but said nothing.
"What's your name?"
Still the man said nothing, but they had no doubt that he knew what they were talking about. Maybe it was sheer terror that kept him silent. They could almost feel him shaking and Blake felt that if he listened carefully he would hear the racing thud of the man's heart. But then his own heart rate was soaring.

He looked at Kearne who cast a swift, appraising glance around him then signalled to a couple of guards from the far side of the room. They came quickly, weapons drawn. The prisoner looked as if he would faint but he stayed on his feet, just. Kearne indicated to the guards to take the man's arms then jerked his head towards the door. They took hold of him and began to pull him back towards the door. Around them other prisoners looked on, fear and resignation written on their faces.

Kearne's men pulled the prisoner out into the corridor; they had to support much of his weight as he seemed too terrified even to walk. They half dragged him twenty feet or so down the corridor then pushed him against the wall, holding him up as he sagged and started to slide to the floor.

Blake leant on the wall opposite, arms folded across his chest. He could see the prisoner's face quite clearly even though the frightened man kept his eyes lowered.
"My name is Blake."
At that the man swallowed again and gave a low, strangled, moan,
"You have heard of me?"
The man nodded slightly but still refused to look at him. Blake paused, weighting whether the fear was real or a delaying tactic. He decided that it was genuine, that the man was almost too scared to speak. He would need to go carefully. It was equally obvious that this man wasn’t either a soldier or a security officer, so it was unlikely that he would be able to give much in the way of detailed information, but his reaction suggested that he knew the answer Blake most needed at that moment. Whether Avon had been here, and if so when, and how, he had left.

He kept his voice calm and low,
"We are not going to hurt you. All we want from you is a few simple answers, nothing that is going to put you or anyone else in any danger. We will keep you apart from the other prisoners afterwards if you wish. All we want is a little information."
The prisoner cast a short scared look at him at that and swallowed again. Blake continued to watch him closely,
"I won't even ask you your name."
The man looked at him in surprise and Blake felt Kearne half turn towards him but he didn’t move his gaze from the prisoner against the wall. He sent a silent thank you, as Kearne said nothing.

"What was your job here?"
The man shifted uncertainly and raised his eyes to meet Blake's. He swallowed several time before he managed to whisper,
"Orderly, catering orderly."
Blake nodded encouragingly,
"So you took people food, drinks, things like that?"
The frightened man nodded. Blake motioned to the guards and they eased their grip. The prisoner drew himself up slightly, then running his the tip of his tongue around his lips he replied
"Yes, all parts of the base, and I cleaned up afterwards."
Blake relaxed his stance slightly and when he spoke again he kept his voice easy and unthreatening
"Were there any prisoners kept here? Did you look after them too?"
The man dropped his eyes to the floor again, he drew a deep shuddering breath, and then nodded.

Blake felt a surge of relief, with an effort he kept it from his voice still restricting himself to the low reassuring rumble of man more patient than he felt.
"How many?"
The man hesitated then spoke, his voice just above a whisper,
"One, maybe two."
Blake's look sharpened but the voice didn’t change,
"Maybe two? Aren't you sure?"
The man shook his head,
"No. Sometimes I thought she was, but then I saw her elsewhere on the base with some of the officers and technicians." He looked imploringly at Blake, " so I'm not sure".
Blake gazed at him consideringly,
"But you are sure that there was one prisoner?"
The man swallowed at that and his breathing quickened again, he just nodded.
"Who?"
It came out sharper than Blake had intended.

That brought another quick frightened look. Something about this man reminded Blake of Vila at his most scared and that helped keep his temper in check, he made his voice gentle as he tried again.
"Was it man?"
A nod,
"Were you told his name?"
That brought an emphatic shake of the head. Blake’s eyes narrowed at that,
"But you heard it from someone didn’t you?"
Shaking the man nodded. Blake’s eased his shoulders lightly feeling some of the tension ebb away.
"Where?" the word came out calmly enough.
The man gasped but this time he spoke,
"In the senior officers rest room. The day watch had been celebrating someone's birthday and they'd had a bit to drink. They were talking about him and her."
He frightened man looked pleadingly at Blake,
"I don't think they even noticed I was there."
Blake smiled at that remembering some of Vila's comments about the invisible class. Yes, he thought, that type of arrogance brought all sorts of vulnerability.

He smiled slightly and spoke kindly to the frightened man,
"No I don't suppose they did. Whom exactly were they talking about?"
The man seemed to be slightly calmer now and the guards slackened their grip again, allowing him to stand almost unaided. He straightened slightly and looked Blake in the face,
"The Prisoner and the President".
The capitals echoed in his voice, he looked and sounded both shocked and horrified as he went on,
"I couldn't believe what they were saying, what they were suggesting! If she had heard I expect she would have had them shot. They would have deserved it. She is the President and he was just a prisoner, a criminal!"

Blake kept his face straight but inside he grinned, he really would have liked to have heard that conversation! He must see if he could find out more at a later date. Kearne's interest was obvious too, and out of the corner of his eye saw the speculative glances the two guards exchanged. No doubt they would find out every word that had been exchanged in that rest room somehow, he must make sure that Vila, who was bound it hear it, passed it on to him.

Blake looked back at the frightened man opposite him,
"And during this conversation they mentioned the prisoner’s name didn’t they?"
The man bit his lip then nodded.
"And?" Blake invited.
The man opposite drew another deep breath
"They called him Avon."
He cast a nervous look at Blake who raised his brows,
“What else?”
The prisoner swallowed sharply and stared down at the floor,
"They mentioned your name too," he almost whispered.
Blake voice sharpened slightly
"Did they, and what did they say about me?"
The man coloured and looked away,
"Some of them said that maybe she couldn’t offer what you had, maybe he wouldn't be interested in her."
The nervous look added the details that weren’t spoken.

Inwardly Blake sighed, well he should have expected that given the obvious nature of the conversation. No doubt others had had similar thoughts before, and it might have served Servalan’s purposes to have them think so. He suppressed a smile at what the others would make of that idea. Still it was offensive, given what the Federation had cooked up against him, but then they had probably intended it to be. He suppressed a sigh, no point in worrying about it, you couldn’t stop people thinking what they wanted to, however unwarranted it might be. Instead he let amusement creep into his voice.
"Oh I see, and what was the conclusion they came to?"
This would be interesting!

The prisoner looked up at him nervously,
"Some of them had seen him, Avon, with the President and they didn’t seem in any doubt about it, that ….he would…….they would….. She would………".
The prisoner hesitated and swallowed again looking absurdly embarrassed, then he took a deep breath and went on, for a moment mimicking the voice he had overheard.
"…get what she so obviously wanted. Get him into her bed. They seemed jealous, wondered what it was he had.” The tide of red in his face deepened, “Several of the female officers who were there offered…… suggestions.”
Blake saw the guards trade another interested look. The prisoner saw it too and, hesitantly, he went on,
“That seemed to spark some argument. I didn’t understand most of it. Then one of the others offered to take bets on the outcome and how long he would last," his voice dropped, " and someone else offered odds on what you would do if you were alive, and found out about this."
Blake's eyebrows rose at that and the prisoner drew a deep breath and hurried into speech again,
"A few other names came up as well, both men and women, I’d only ever heard of a couple of them". He looked imploringly at Blake, "that's all I know, they stopped talking when the other man came in, and after that night they seemed to be more careful about what they said."

Blake considered for a while, leaning against the wall biting on his thumb, he didn’t doubt that there was little else to be got here. He looked back at the prisoner,
"But you are sure they called him Avon?"
The man nodded and Blake looked towards Kearne,
"Take him away and put him with the other ancillary staff, away from the military prisoners. It’s about time we started splitting them up, we should get more out of the civilians that way."
Kearne nodded. Blake turned back to the prisoner
"No one is going to harm you but I want you to talk to this man and tell him everything you can remember about the prisoner, and the other woman you mentioned."
The man nodded and walked unaided between the guards as they took him back the way they had come.

Blake turned the other way but some instinct prompted him to stop and call after them.
"You said they stopped talking when the other man came in. Was he important, this man? Do you know his name?"
Even with a distance between them Blake could see the man stiffen in fear again but he nodded. Blake walked swiftly toward them, he didn’t want the prisoner to have to raise his voice, they needed to keep his confidence.
"Who was he and why did they stop talking when he came in?"
The prisoner looked helplessly at Blake,
"I don’t know what he does, but he was important. Everyone treated him with respect, and some of them even seemed to be afraid of him. He was in charge when the President wasn’t here, at least I think he was. I often took drinks and food to them in her office, usually there would be just the two of them, though sometimes the security commander or some of the others would be there. There was another woman too, I don’t know what she did but she was often with him."
"Do you know his name?"
The man nodded,
"I remembered it because I have a cousin called Sharnel and it sounded so similar."
Blake looked questioningly at him and the prisoner smiled slightly and said,
"Carnell. I heard the President call him Carnell."

***