(no subject)
Title: Proving Flight
Author: jaxomsride
Fandom: Blake’s 7
Summary: AU a test flight that becomes real which results in unexpected revelations
Pairing: Cally (brain) - Avon (pilot)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: No Spoilers
Author's Notes: Thank you entropy_house for your assistance, one couldn’t ask for a better beta.
After months of training and simulations Cally was finally heading out on her first flight. While Cally waited she ran diagnostic checks, even though she knew everything was ready and operating at peak efficiency. This was why she was built; this was what she was designed for. Contrary to all her training a feeling of tremendous excitement gripped her. Some of the lights on her monitoring panel flicked over into yellow. Silently castigating herself for getting too worked up she concentrated on the calming exercises they had taught her. The display had just gone back to reassuring green when she received notification that her pilot was finally on his way. Elated, she sang her favourite songs as she prepared the ship for his arrival. In spite of feeling as if she could jump for joy the discipline of music kept all her readouts in the green.
Avon surveyed the ship through the Observation window of the station. It was quite small, even with the disproportionately large engines of the improved hyperspace drive at her back. It crouched as sleek and deadly as a panther, painted in matt black, as befitted a military fighter craft, the badge of the Federation proudly emblazoned on her side. It was at times like this he really didn’t regret joining the military after the collapse of the Aquitar project due to Blake’s Freedom Party activities. It was strange how the actions and influence of one man could affect those who had never met him. He had not even been in the Resistance yet he had had to undergo rigorous questioning from Federation Security. Joining the military had not been a bad move either. Thanks to his aptitude for flying and computing, he had soon been transferred to the experimental section of Space Command. It certainly beat slogging as a computech in a bank with little or no chance of promotion, which had been the fate of some of his fellow work colleagues.
It was ironic, he thought, the ship itself would not have existed if it hadn’t been for Blake. The ship that Blake and his latest rabble were fortunate enough to steal after their escape from Cygnus Alpha had been faster than anything the Federation had. The prototype he was about to test had been developed in order to catch the Liberator. The Viper, if it lived up to its promise, should be at least as fast, if not faster, than Blake’s ship.
He was looking forward to flying her. Apart from anything else it was a single person craft. He wouldn’t have to put up with anyone else on board her, not even a mutoid. Swinging the kitbag beside him over his shoulder he made his way through the station to her docking bay.
Cally verified that the figure standing in front of her scanner pickup was indeed the Captain Kerr Avon she was expecting before she opened the hatch to let him enter.
“Welcome Captain Avon,” she said as he stepped directly on to the cramped flight deck.
He glanced round, startled then gave a rueful smile; of course he was the only one on board. It was just the computer speaking. “Ah, you must be Cally.”
“That is correct. If you would like to stow your gear we can begin. I’m so looking forward to this. I can’t wait to get started.” Cally couldn’t keep the edge of excitement out of her voice.
“Well now Cally, that makes two of us,” he said sardonically.
Avon frowned slightly. To run the hyperspace drive required a complex computer system but he couldn’t see why they had to program a complex personality as well. Still, he mused the ship was designed for long missions. Perhaps the psychiatrists had thought that something for the pilot to interact with would keep him sane. Considering the firepower the Viper commanded that would be rather essential. Personally he was perfectly content with his own company. He liked the voice though; it was well modulated and even appeared to have emotional overtones. It was a pleasant change from the flat tones of most other systems.
Avon headed for his cabin just aft of the flight deck. It too was small and cramped, but Avon was not surprised. Military craft were designed to kill; crew comfort was sacrificed for weapons and armour.
“Pre-flight checks completed,” Cally announced as he was putting away the last of his clothes.
“Did I tell you to begin the checks?” he asked coldly, turning. He stopped and shook his head. There had been no need to turn round. Cally wasn’t a physical presence he could face. The system was buried deep in the heart of the ship.
“You said you wanted to get under way too,” Cally said in a puzzled tone.
Avon took a deep breath; evidently he had better be careful exactly what he said to Cally. With its voice sounding quite so human he had briefly forgotten it would be literal minded.
“Yes I do, Cally. Just don’t…” He hesitated. He had better not say ‘don’t do anything.’ Considering the number of systems it controlled that could be catastrophic.
“Don’t,” he went on, “carry on undocking procedures until I get there.”
He finished unpacking quickly and hurried through to the flight deck.
Avon took his seat wordlessly and cast an eye over his screen. The Viper was operating at peak efficiency and no faults had been detected. She was ready to go.
Moving off station and out of the system was accomplished smoothly and flawlessly. Cally was crisp and efficient and only spoke when spoken to. She was mortified that in her eagerness to please she had stepped beyond what was acceptable. She knew that she should not have begun the checks without Avon’s permission. Yet she had been so eager to leave the station and begin flying properly she had forgot she was there to serve and obey Avon.
Once they had just passed the edge of the system’s outer defences Avon leaned back in his seat and strapped himself in securely.
“Cally, you have the coordinates, engage the hyperspace drive.”
Cally activated the drive. With barely a ripple the ship Shifted. Immediately Cally could sense the patterns of energy and force around the ship as it moved beyond the confines of normal space. It was like being bathed in a sea of light. Resisting the urge to simply float, Cally chose the stream that would pull the ship to its correct destination. The ship manoeuvred until it was seized by the current. Their journey had begun. Shifting in reality was even more exhilarating than the simulations she had run. The ship weaved and bobbed as it was buffeted by tiny changes in the coruscating patterns of force that surrounded it. This was why she was needed. An ordinary computer or even a human pilot could not cope with the subtle shifts she detected as naturally as a bird flew. Without her system, the ship would soon be spinning out of control at the mercy of the forces gripping it.
Avon studied his screens approvingly; according to their readouts Cally was performing even better than it had in the development laboratory. He unstrapped and headed off to get something to eat; more than satisfied to leave the ship in Cally’s capable control.
Within the space of a few hours they had traveled across a full Sector of space.
The first series of tests and manoeuvres went without a hitch. Avon was pleased with the Viper’s performance. Cally’s good intention to maintain proper deference had lasted all of twenty-four hours. She began offering information and suggestions unbidden. It was Cally who suggested a game of chess at the end of a particularly uneventful day.
Avon had expected Cally, being a computer, to present a reasonable challenge. What he hadn’t expected was light conversation between moves. He began to have a growing respect for its programmers. They had certainly gone beyond what was strictly essential for the ship to function. Chess became a regular feature after the day’s exercises.
Avon had always been more comfortable around computers than people. Without meaning to, Avon found he was telling Cally more about himself than he had ever told anyone else. He was pleasantly surprised to discover Cally could sing when she began to accompany the songs he played off duty with her own harmonies. He ended up playing all the music on his discs just to see how she would interpret them. Avon knew she was just a computer system, but occasionally he caught himself thinking of Cally as a person. Which he reflected ruefully, was the hallmark of a true A.I. system.
Cally for her part, really enjoyed his company. For some reason she could not fathom she kept replaying their nightly conversations while Avon slept. The music he played was of a much broader range than she had encountered in the development laboratory. It entranced her, so much so she couldn’t resist joining in. To her delight, he encouraged her to experiment rather than reprimanding her for interfering with his listening
They were executing a series of combat drills designed to stretch the Viper to its limit. During one exercise when the ship made a particularly sharp turn, Avon blacked out
He came round in his chair with a pounding headache. His vision was still a little blurred and the room showed a disturbing tendency to rotate at the slightest movement. He tried to put a hand to his aching head and had a panicked moment when they refused to move. Looking down, he saw blearily that his forearm had been strapped down and a drip of some sort was going into the back of his hand.
“Cally, what happened,” he said, his words slurring slightly.
“There was a malfunction of the inertial compensators,” Cally replied in a small voice.
“I stopped the drill as soon as you became unconscious. The ship sustained no damage,” she continued in a firmer tone.
“Oh!” Avon managed, resting back on the headrest. “Well, run a full diagnostic on the compensators and ancillary systems. And get these things off me!”
“The diagnostics are already running,” Cally said.
Avon felt a brief sting of pain as the I.V. tube was disengaged and then the clamps holding his arms released him.
“Thank you, Cally,” he said, surprising himself. It was a computer. You didn’t thank a computer, even if it did save your life. Cally too was surprised. He had addressed her as if she was a person. Even when they were talking over the chessboard Avon had still treated her like a computer.
“You’re welcome, captain,” Cally replied. Avon blinked and wondered who had thought it necessary to program in the correct response. Evidently the programmer had expected the pilots would like civility from their computer. Avon smiled grimly, considering some of the pilots he had met; it would make more sense if Cally swore like a trooper.
Avon was glad to let it perform the necessary checks and diagnostics as his body recovered. He was inwardly glad he hadn’t ordered Cally not to do anything without his express permission. He’d been tempted to do so after its precipitate checks before they left the station. Cally’s prompt actions now had undoubtedly saved his life. He made a mental note to commend this in his report of the incident. Cally may only have been doing what it was programmed, but it was worth noting that a computer capable of proactive action did have its uses.
Avon wasn’t sure exactly what Cally had dosed him with, but the headache was soon receding and the room no longer turned around him. He was just considering trying to move again when Cally announced the investigation had been completed.
The inertial dampers had failed.
With a groan Avon levered himself out of his chair and went to collect the toolkit.
“Is it bad?” Cally asked
“Bad enough,” Avon replied. He held up the board. It was cracked down the middle, a number of components blackened and twisted.
Cally’s camera zoomed in on the identity code displayed on its front. “We don’t have a replacement in stock.”
“Hell!” Avon exclaimed, “Well, I could jury-rig a repair. However, I couldn’t say how long it would hold.”
“Oh, does that mean we have to head back?”
Avon couldn’t help but smile at the note of disappointment in the computer’s voice. Sometimes he thought it sounded almost too human.
“Not exactly,” he replied. “I don’t think I’d like to try a jump of that length.”
“There is a small military base in Sector 2,” Cally offered.
Avon considered; that was only a short hop from their current position. His repair would certainly last until they got to the base. It wasn’t a particularly specialised component so he should have no difficulty in obtaining a replacement.
“We’ll head there then. Cally compute the course.” Avon turned back to the open panel, wiping sweat from his eyes. The engineering section was uncomfortably hot with so much crammed into such a confined space.
A short while later Avon entered the flight deck. A glass of iced water waited for him as he took his seat. Avon hadn’t actually asked for it, but he certainly needed a drink; the conditions had been stifling in the compartment. Avon wasn’t entirely sure he liked the computer’s recent habit of anticipating his needs. At that moment however the small attention was much appreciated. This time he didn’t reprimand Cally. The glass was drained in one gulp. Avon set it back on the holder, where it retracted, only to return moments later refilled, this time with a cloudy solution.
“Cally,” Avon said a note of warning in his voice.
“You need to restore your electrolyte balance.” Cally returned primly.
Avon didn’t comment, but strapped himself in and sipped the drink.
“Course computed,“ Cally offered once he had finished.
“Engage the hyperspace drive,” Avon commanded.
He held his breath as the ship shifted into hyper-dimensional space, releasing it only when the Viper was cruising steadily. He gave an inward smile at his own lack of trust; the repair was holding. Avon decided he would check it again before they shifted back to normal space. He didn’t fancy becoming a greasy smear on the walls of the flight deck. The first thing he had learnt as a test pilot was that complacency kills.
For the first time, the shift to normal space left Avon feeling queasy. There had better be a replacement board, Avon thought grimly. The Viper was not going to make another Shift without it.
“Captain!” Cally called urgently. “The base is under attack. It’s the Liberator.”
“Put it on screen,” Avon ordered.
Cally was right, two pursuit ships were trying to prevent the Liberator from raking the base with its blasters. Make that one, Avon corrected as one of the defenders blossomed into a ball of light and then vanished.
The remaining pursuit ship did not stand a chance against the Liberator on its own. The base would be destroyed if he didn’t go to their aid. They had no choice; their combat simulations were about to become reality.
The Viper swooped into attack. Its small size, speed and manouveureability made the Viper a difficult target for the Liberator. The Viper dodged the Liberator’s fire while harrying it with the Viper’s own weapons. The Liberator began to retreat in the face of its bantam opponent.
Avon’s triumph was short-lived. The world went black as the compensators failed under the strain.
“Avon!” Cally screamed frantically at the slumped figure in the pilot’s chair. The medical sensors in the chair assured her he was alive. She sighed in relief and began to treat him. Her programming was screaming at her to continue the assault on the Liberator but if she did that she would kill Avon. She couldn’t bring herself to do that.
Instead Cally slowed the ship, trying not to injure Avon any further. The Liberator was forgotten as she concentrated all her attention on her stricken captain.
She was so busy working on Avon that she did not notice the Liberator’s approach. Nor did she sense the invasion of her mind until it was too late.
Avon came round, not surprised to find his head pounding. He was lying on a bed, not in his chair. He wasn’t on the Viper but it didn’t look like a Federation facility either.
“How are you feeling?” a man’s voice asked.
Avon turned his head in the direction of the voice. The room did a slow spiral around him. Avon blinked, fighting nausea. A face swam into view. The brown eyes and dark curly hair were all too familiar. It was Blake. Avon was a prisoner on Blake’s ship.
“I’ve been better,” Avon managed. He had jerked to a sitting position on sighting Blake. Now that the shock had faded, Avon sank back down again as the room spun dizzyingly around him. ”My ship, what has happened to it?”
“It’s safe in the hold.” Blake replied. “Interesting drive system you have and as for Cally…”
“I had heard your ship has a sophisticated A.I. computer,” Avon interrupted. “So why should you be interested in my system.”
“Is that all she is to you, just a computer?” Blake asked.
“Blake, it’s a machine.” Avon frowned, wondering where this line of questioning was leading.
“You really have no idea, have you?” Blake leaned over him. “You don’t know who is flying your ship.”
Avon’s frown deepened. He had expected an interrogation as to his vessel’s capabilities. This was odd though; Blake acted as if Cally was a real person, not a computer.
“Who, Blake? It’s an A.I., a machine.” Avon sighed. “It’s no more alive than that medical monitor.”
“That machine was once a person!” Blake snapped. “A living, breathing being just like you or I. The Federation conquered her people because Aurons are telepaths. They took her brain out of her body and put it in that ship because only telepaths can sense hyper-dimensional space.”
Blake was almost shouting by the end of his little speech.
Avon studied him calmly. ”An interesting story, Blake, but why should I believe a word of it? Brains running ships belong in the realm of bad romance novels.”
Blake stared at him, looking as if he was about to explode. Abruptly he hauled Avon to his feet. Avon grimly held on to his stomach contents as it lurched in protest.
Wordlessly Blake marched him down corridor after corridor. Seeing the set of Blake’s jaw and his narrowed eyes Avon gave up any idea of protesting. He concentrated instead on keeping his feet under him, too stubborn to betray any weakness in front of Blake.
Eventually they stepped through a hatch. The Viper lay beyond like a dragon in its lair.
Avon’s hope of stopping to catch his breath was soon dashed, Blake didn’t even slow down as he dragged Avon through his craft’s engineering hatch and into the heart of the Viper.
The computer capsule rested in its cradle, a series of lights glowing along its length. Avon frowned, noting that a number were yellow and a few were red. If Blake really believed there was a person in there he didn’t seem that concerned by the warning lights.
A man was bending over the access panel with a tool in his hand. He was shorter than Avon, though not by much, with brown receding hair and a pleasant open face.
He smiled a greeting at Blake. “Nearly got it.”
“Thank you, Vila,” Blake replied.
Avon wished he wasn’t feeling so sick and dizzy. With Blake’s attention diverted by Vila he could have tried to overpower the rebel leader. Still he wasn’t entirely without resources.
“Cally!” Avon’s voiced hissed urgently. There was no response; the computer was silent.
“What have you done to it?” Avon snarled at Vila.
Blake rounded on him, “That’s not an ‘it’, I told you. There is a living being in there, at least what’s left of one.”
“You’re insane, Blake.” Avon began to turn away.
Blake swung him back. Avon swayed but still managed to punch Blake full in the face before he fell. As the world around him greyed over Avon could make out another man running up. Hazily he observed a tall, burly man remonstrating with Blake that their prisoner shouldn’t even be out of bed, never mind fighting. Then everything went blessedly black.
Avon returned to the world a few minutes later. His head felt less like it was going to drop from his shoulders; the pain had settled down to a painful throb behind his eyes.
Vila had managed to get the access panel open in spite of the security locks. Blake was leaning over the technician’s shoulder. Avon sat up carefully, trying not to draw attention to himself.
“Easy now.” A large hand gripped his shoulder. How had he forgotten the giant?
Blake turned at the sound of the man’s voice.
“Bring him, Gan!” he ordered curtly, his voice sounding furious.
Gan hauled him none too gently to his feet. Avon shrugged off the man’s hand. Gan let him, but remained close. Avon tugged his jacket straight and strode over to Blake. He halted a few inches from him so they were eye to eye.
“Well?” Avon drawled icily.
“Look there and tell me that that is just a computer.” Blake pointed at the open panel.
Avon turned his head and stared, appalled.
Instead of a complex array of wires and circuitry, the capsule contained a brain floating in a clear liquid. It was anchored to the sides of the vessel by wires and tubes.
Avon swallowed the gorge rising in his throat. The A.I. he had thought of as sounding too human really was a person.
Avon stepped back from the panel and indicated the lights. His mind, still reeling from the shock, focussed on the practical.
“They should all be green.” He stated, his voice sounding normal, in spite of his inner turmoil.
“Can you fix…” Blake stopped. He took a deep breath and continued, “Help her.”
Avon suppressed a smile; you didn’t ‘fix’ people.
“Well, the computer might have been designated ‘top secret’, but I do know how to maintain her.” Avon replied. He now knew why he had not been allowed to study that aspect of the ship. Avon was relieved that they had at least acceded to his request for instructions on basic maintenance.
Vila replaced the panel and Avon set to work. Avon was briefly tempted to activate the ship’s self-destruct mechanism which he could access from there. As a good Federation officer he really ought to take the opportunity to destroy Blake once and for all. However as heroic self-sacrifice was not his forte he resisted the urge.
Soon all the lights were glowing green. Avon gave a sigh of relief and satisfaction.
“Cally, respond please,” he requested, his voice tense.
“Avon?” the reply was hesitant.
Avon smiled broadly, feeling unaccountably happy, considering they were still Blake’s prisoners.
He asked Cally a question he never put to a computer before. ”How are you feeling, Cally?”
There was a pause before she replied, “Confused!”
“That makes two of us,” Avon commented drily. “Cally, do you know what you are?”
“Of course,” she replied, “I am Cally AI system XK3279.”
Avon looked at Blake. “Have you considered how we are going to convince her that she is more than just a computer?”
Blake nodded. “Zen can access her systems. He thinks he can unblock her memory.”
“Why should I trust that Zen hasn’t implanted those memories?” Avon asked coldly.
Blake looked taken aback. Avon wondered if he was naïve enough to expect Avon to trust him. Watching as the rebel leader’s expression went from shock to outrage and then annoyance Avon realised that Blake had not considered he wouldn’t. Avon was surprised Blake had lasted so long against the Federation.
“What do you suggest?” Blake asked his tone angry.
“I want to be able to monitor them.”
Blake didn’t look at all pleased to hear that. Avon smiled inwardly. So Blake was loath to let him anywhere near Zen. Evidently Blake trusted him as much as he trusted Blake. Perhaps his survival wasn’t such a puzzle after all.
“I’ll have to ask Zen and find out if that’s possible,” Blake replied.
Once Blake had gone with Vila following in his wake Avon slowly sank down against the nearest wall. He rested his head against its cool metal surface. Closing his eyes seemed to ease the throbbing in his skull.
“Are you all right?” Gan asked, crouching beside him.
“No, but I’ll live,” Avon replied, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“Avon,” Cally’s voice suddenly spoke up. “I can’t access communications, sensors or weaponry.”
“Cally, you are inside The Liberator, Blake’s ship. I don’t think they want you to blow them to kingdom come.” Avon said wryly. “Now would you like to tell me what happened after I blacked out during the battle?”
“I’m not sure,” Cally replied hesitantly. “I was trying to take care of you when…Avon there was something else accessing my systems. I tried to resist but it had taken control of my peripherals and then shut me down. And then I heard you call my name. You even said ‘please’, you’ve never said that before.”
Avon laughed slightly, “Yes I did, didn’t I. Well it must be the headache.”
“You have a headache? I’m sorry, I can’t tell, the inboard sensors won’t work either.”
Avon frowned; Zen had closed down almost all her peripherals. Avon wondered how long she could cope with only audio input. Damn Blake! He knew Cally wasn’t a computer; yet he had no qualms about treating her like one.
Avon’s eyes snapped open, fixing Gan with an arctic glare. “Get me Blake.”
“I’m not supposed to leave you on your own,” Gan said.
“Then call him! Tell him…” Avon took a deep breath, reining in his temper. “Tell him I need to speak to him urgently about Cally.”
Gan hesitated. To call Blake, he would have to use the communicator unit inside the hold. Yet he couldn’t abandon Avon, however briefly.
Avon gave an exasperated sigh and scrambled to his feet. “I’ll go with you.”
Blake came quickly in answer to Avon’s summons. Avon watched him advance; Blake’s brusque steps clearly indicated his temper had not improved. Well Avon reflected his summons hadn’t exactly been tactfully phrased, but then he hadn’t been feeling at all diplomatic.
“This had better be important!” Blake barked at him.
Avon gave him a trenchant glare. “Apart from internal communications, your computer has shut off Cally’s peripherals. That includes her internal sensors. So Blake, how long, would you last in sensory deprivation?”
To Avon’s surprise the rebel leader went pale at the thought.
Blake opened his mouth and closed it again. He swallowed and found his voice. “I’ll have Zen restore her internal sensors immediately.”
He turned on his heel and left. Avon watched his retreating back.
“He’s a man of his word,” Gan said confidently.
“I have internal sensors again!” Cally reported a few moments later. “Avon, are you all right?”
Avon gave a brief laugh. “Gan as I’m not going to get any peace until she checks me over, you might as well follow me.”
“The pilot’s welfare is my primary concern,” Cally offered, sounding somewhat affronted.
His headache had mostly subsided but he lay down in the medical alcove. Cally insisted on scanning him thoroughly, which almost made Avon regret humouring her.
Avon sighed. There were enough sedatives in the drawers above the bed to knock out an ox, never mind Gan. Instead he found himself sharing a meal with his erstwhile jailer in the galley. He couldn’t escape while Zen had total control over Cally’s systems.
They had just finished eating when Blake came in to announce that Zen could include Avon in the link and that they were ready. The meal he had just consumed settled like lead in the pit of his stomach. He had asked to monitor, not participate! He did not like the idea of Zen being able to get inside his head. Blake was still watching him. Avon wondered if the man expected him to back out.
“Well, lead the way,” Avon said coldly.
Blake took him through the maze of corridors until they reached the flight deck of the Liberator.
Avon paused on the threshold. It was an incredible sight, nothing like a Federation military or even civilian craft. Five banks of consoles arranged in three tiers faced a less formal seating area which contained its own console. An odd hemisphere projected out from the wall of the flight deck. The room was spacious and looked more like it belonged to a pleasure liner. This ‘cruise ship’ though could out gun and out fly even the most advanced pursuit ship.
Blake had moved to stand by one of the flight consoles. Hovering proprietarily there was a blond, curly haired woman.
“Avon this is Jenna, Jenna Stannis, Liberator’s pilot.”
Avon gave her a curt nod and then turned to Blake.
“Can we get on with it?” he drawled in a bored tone, determined not to show how nervous he felt.
“Just place your hand here.” Blake indicated a green panel on the console.
Jenna looked like she would like to object, but backed off after a glance from Blake.
Avon looked doubtfully at him.
“Zen will do the rest,” Blake finished, stepping back.
Avon glared at him suspiciously but placed his hand on the grid. He felt a slight tingle and tried to pull his hand back. It was stuck fast; he couldn’t move his hand. His other hand reached for a gun that wasn’t there.
“Blake, if this is some kind of a trap…” he hissed. The threat didn’t get any further.
Suddenly he felt something invading his mind. Instinctively he tried to push it away, but that only caused pain.
The flight deck and its occupants ceased to matter. His attention was all on the battle being waged inside his skull. He stubbornly resisted until he heard Cally’s voice calling his name. He felt a phantom caress brushing his face. She was not visible but he could feel her as a physical presence in his mind. There was another there too. Avon realised that he had been fighting Zen, who had only been trying to establish contact, not take him over completely.
To his surprise Cally wrapped herself around him. He couldn’t see her but it felt like she was there, pressed up against him. The touch helped to steady him.
“Do you know why you are here?” Avon asked softly.
“Zen said there was something I had to remember,” Cally replied. “But I’ve searched my databanks and there is nothing missing.”
“Cally, listen to me. You are not a computer.” Avon stated focussing firmly on the female he could almost see. He tried not to think of the disembodied brain floating in its capsule.
“But I…” she began.
Avon halted her words by placing a fingertip over her lips. Although neither the finger nor the lips had any physical reality it had the desired effect. Cally shut up. What Avon hadn’t expected was the fierce jolt of sensation as they touched. The mental images of Cally and Zen wavered as desire suddenly knifed through him. Irritated by his own lack of control, Avon forced his mind to focus back on them and not his own libido.
“Zen is going to unlock your memories as a person,” Avon said, wondering why Zen hadn’t got on with it yet.
“Will it hurt?” Cally asked hesitantly.
Avon could sense she was very much afraid, which is why she had clung to him. This was both flattering and disturbing; he was not used to being seen as a source of comfort. The fact she felt so secure with him almost had Avon drawing away, except that he felt Cally’s panic at the thought. He wasn’t going to examine why that held him in place or why he instead enfolded himself around her, so she was the one being held.
Avon turned the question over to Zen who had simply hovered as a disembodied presence, observing them.
“That information is not available,” The computer responded.
Comparing the two of them, Avon wondered why he had thought Cally was just an A.I. system. Meeting Zen had made it very clear what the differences were. Although Zen was in mental contact, Avon felt nothing from him. In contrast Cally was scared, yet determined and also surprisingly curious.
“Get on with it,” Avon instructed Zen before Cally’s courage failed her.
Avon fell into a dizzying spiral; Cally clung to him tightly and he tightened his grip on her.
They emerged into a scene of chaos. Federation storm troopers were everywhere. Their carriers and attack craft filled the skies like great black ravens, raining death and destruction below. He was seeing through Cally’s eyes; these were her memories. He watched as Zelda, Cally’s clone sister, led frightened Auronar children to the dubious safety of the tunnels below the crèche facilities. They watched her tall slim figure out of sight. Avon watched as Cally, with her other sisters by her side, defended the facility against the inexorable tide of Federation troopers that stormed up the steps. Pain washed through them as, one by one, her sisters fell under the onslaught. Then he felt a massive flare of pain as Cally too was hit.
A soul-searing scream ripped through him, jolting him back to the present. Cally was still locked into the memory, replaying the moments she and her sisters fell. Her agony washed over him. Avon gathered her to him, calling her name, trying to reach her.
She finally stopped screaming. Instead a vast wave of loneliness swept over him, almost bringing him to his knees.
He gripped her tighter, “Cally you are not alone! I am here.”
He could feel her reaching out desperately to him. Without pausing to think, he reached back. He could feel her mind twining and joining with his. The tide of loneliness and pain was obliterated. Picturing her lips he bent his head and kissed her. It was a kiss that went to the centre of their souls, fusing them as one. Cally was in his mind and he was in hers, sharing, exploring, touching, knowing each other in ways more intimate than lovers.
They were so involved with each other that Zen’s voice came as a shock.
“Avon you must return, now.”
Reluctantly, Avon drew back. Cally’s form was shining with a brilliant white light. He wondered if he was glowing too.
“Yes,” Cally laughed.
All too abruptly he was back on the flight deck. He moved his hand away from the console, feeling strangely bereft. His eyes met Jenna’s. She looked almost sympathetic. Avon suddenly understood how they knew how that panel worked.
“You’re Zen’s pilot,” he said.
She nodded.
That word had taken on a whole new meaning. Although Avon was in his own body he realised he could still feel Cally’s warm, vibrant presence in his mind.
“Well?” demanded Blake.
Avon resisted an impulse to say, “Fine thank you, and you?” Instead he replied, “I need to speak to Cally.”
Avon had discovered that although he could feel her he couldn’t actually communicate with her mentally. He needed to be on his ship.
Blake of course insisted on going with him along with his quiet keeper, Gan.
Avon Cally’s voice rang softly inside his head before they reached the hold.
Startled, Avon almost stumbled. How can I hear you? he thought in reply.
It seems I have regained my telepathy. Besides Avon, we are linked, of course you can hear me.
Linked! Avon came to a dead stop. He had only meant to offer comfort to her. Avon had not really intended anything else. He had become permanently mentally bonded to Cally. The thought didn’t dismay him as he expected. Instead he felt a glow of warmth in his heart.
He was supposed to be just her test pilot, damn it! Avon was only meant to try the ship’s paces before handing it on. He couldn’t do that now. Apart from anything else the thought of Cally being at the mercy of another pilot who would also regard her as a machine filled him with fury.
Avon sensed Cally’s amusement at that. Aurons didn’t believe in exclusivity.
I’m not jealous! Avon protested. I just don’t like the thought of you being treated that way.
Avon frowned. The Federation Space Command would not want her to be aware of her past. He couldn’t take her back; they’d either wipe her memory again or destroy her. His own life expectancy might be rather brief too.
I am NOT going back! Cally declared firmly.
“Avon!” Blake called, shaking him by the shoulder.
Avon blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings again. Blake was standing next to him looking rather concerned. Avon realised he had been standing in the middle of the corridor apparently just staring off into space.
“I was talking to Cally.“ Avon shrugged off Blake’s hand.
“Cally? We heard nothing.” Blake frowned.
Avon gave him a withering glare. “She is a telepath, Blake. Now if you’ll excuse me we hadn’t finished our conversation.”
With that he turned his attention inward So what do we do now? he thought.
We go to Auron , find Zelda, if she is still alive, and set the rest of my people free.Cally’s determination was so fierce, Avon found himself becoming angry too as her fury flooded into him.
Easier said than done. We would have no authorisation to be there. We would need information on the Federations defences there. Still, if we were pursuing Liberator there… Avon sighed mentally No, that wouldn’t work, we couldn’t save an entire planet that way.
We can’t just leave them! They will enslave my people to make more computers like me! Cally protested vehemently.
I don’t think there is anyone like you. Avon replied, smiling inwardly.
Oh!Cally was actually flustered at the compliment.
We are getting off the point, he reminded her. The only way Auron would be safe would be if the Federation was no longer a threat.
Blake could help us, Cally declared with utter conviction.
Avon laughed. Blake would view it as the other way round. Cally would you mind waiting until we get to our ship before we discuss it with him?
All right, I like that, though, “our ship”.
Cally’s pleasure in that phrase washed over him. Avon found himself smiling.
Whatever was going to happen to them, they would face it together. Somehow that made it easier to bear.
Cally silently agreed as Avon followed his escort to the hold containing their ship.
Author: jaxomsride
Fandom: Blake’s 7
Summary: AU a test flight that becomes real which results in unexpected revelations
Pairing: Cally (brain) - Avon (pilot)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: No Spoilers
Author's Notes: Thank you entropy_house for your assistance, one couldn’t ask for a better beta.
After months of training and simulations Cally was finally heading out on her first flight. While Cally waited she ran diagnostic checks, even though she knew everything was ready and operating at peak efficiency. This was why she was built; this was what she was designed for. Contrary to all her training a feeling of tremendous excitement gripped her. Some of the lights on her monitoring panel flicked over into yellow. Silently castigating herself for getting too worked up she concentrated on the calming exercises they had taught her. The display had just gone back to reassuring green when she received notification that her pilot was finally on his way. Elated, she sang her favourite songs as she prepared the ship for his arrival. In spite of feeling as if she could jump for joy the discipline of music kept all her readouts in the green.
Avon surveyed the ship through the Observation window of the station. It was quite small, even with the disproportionately large engines of the improved hyperspace drive at her back. It crouched as sleek and deadly as a panther, painted in matt black, as befitted a military fighter craft, the badge of the Federation proudly emblazoned on her side. It was at times like this he really didn’t regret joining the military after the collapse of the Aquitar project due to Blake’s Freedom Party activities. It was strange how the actions and influence of one man could affect those who had never met him. He had not even been in the Resistance yet he had had to undergo rigorous questioning from Federation Security. Joining the military had not been a bad move either. Thanks to his aptitude for flying and computing, he had soon been transferred to the experimental section of Space Command. It certainly beat slogging as a computech in a bank with little or no chance of promotion, which had been the fate of some of his fellow work colleagues.
It was ironic, he thought, the ship itself would not have existed if it hadn’t been for Blake. The ship that Blake and his latest rabble were fortunate enough to steal after their escape from Cygnus Alpha had been faster than anything the Federation had. The prototype he was about to test had been developed in order to catch the Liberator. The Viper, if it lived up to its promise, should be at least as fast, if not faster, than Blake’s ship.
He was looking forward to flying her. Apart from anything else it was a single person craft. He wouldn’t have to put up with anyone else on board her, not even a mutoid. Swinging the kitbag beside him over his shoulder he made his way through the station to her docking bay.
Cally verified that the figure standing in front of her scanner pickup was indeed the Captain Kerr Avon she was expecting before she opened the hatch to let him enter.
“Welcome Captain Avon,” she said as he stepped directly on to the cramped flight deck.
He glanced round, startled then gave a rueful smile; of course he was the only one on board. It was just the computer speaking. “Ah, you must be Cally.”
“That is correct. If you would like to stow your gear we can begin. I’m so looking forward to this. I can’t wait to get started.” Cally couldn’t keep the edge of excitement out of her voice.
“Well now Cally, that makes two of us,” he said sardonically.
Avon frowned slightly. To run the hyperspace drive required a complex computer system but he couldn’t see why they had to program a complex personality as well. Still, he mused the ship was designed for long missions. Perhaps the psychiatrists had thought that something for the pilot to interact with would keep him sane. Considering the firepower the Viper commanded that would be rather essential. Personally he was perfectly content with his own company. He liked the voice though; it was well modulated and even appeared to have emotional overtones. It was a pleasant change from the flat tones of most other systems.
Avon headed for his cabin just aft of the flight deck. It too was small and cramped, but Avon was not surprised. Military craft were designed to kill; crew comfort was sacrificed for weapons and armour.
“Pre-flight checks completed,” Cally announced as he was putting away the last of his clothes.
“Did I tell you to begin the checks?” he asked coldly, turning. He stopped and shook his head. There had been no need to turn round. Cally wasn’t a physical presence he could face. The system was buried deep in the heart of the ship.
“You said you wanted to get under way too,” Cally said in a puzzled tone.
Avon took a deep breath; evidently he had better be careful exactly what he said to Cally. With its voice sounding quite so human he had briefly forgotten it would be literal minded.
“Yes I do, Cally. Just don’t…” He hesitated. He had better not say ‘don’t do anything.’ Considering the number of systems it controlled that could be catastrophic.
“Don’t,” he went on, “carry on undocking procedures until I get there.”
He finished unpacking quickly and hurried through to the flight deck.
Avon took his seat wordlessly and cast an eye over his screen. The Viper was operating at peak efficiency and no faults had been detected. She was ready to go.
Moving off station and out of the system was accomplished smoothly and flawlessly. Cally was crisp and efficient and only spoke when spoken to. She was mortified that in her eagerness to please she had stepped beyond what was acceptable. She knew that she should not have begun the checks without Avon’s permission. Yet she had been so eager to leave the station and begin flying properly she had forgot she was there to serve and obey Avon.
Once they had just passed the edge of the system’s outer defences Avon leaned back in his seat and strapped himself in securely.
“Cally, you have the coordinates, engage the hyperspace drive.”
Cally activated the drive. With barely a ripple the ship Shifted. Immediately Cally could sense the patterns of energy and force around the ship as it moved beyond the confines of normal space. It was like being bathed in a sea of light. Resisting the urge to simply float, Cally chose the stream that would pull the ship to its correct destination. The ship manoeuvred until it was seized by the current. Their journey had begun. Shifting in reality was even more exhilarating than the simulations she had run. The ship weaved and bobbed as it was buffeted by tiny changes in the coruscating patterns of force that surrounded it. This was why she was needed. An ordinary computer or even a human pilot could not cope with the subtle shifts she detected as naturally as a bird flew. Without her system, the ship would soon be spinning out of control at the mercy of the forces gripping it.
Avon studied his screens approvingly; according to their readouts Cally was performing even better than it had in the development laboratory. He unstrapped and headed off to get something to eat; more than satisfied to leave the ship in Cally’s capable control.
Within the space of a few hours they had traveled across a full Sector of space.
The first series of tests and manoeuvres went without a hitch. Avon was pleased with the Viper’s performance. Cally’s good intention to maintain proper deference had lasted all of twenty-four hours. She began offering information and suggestions unbidden. It was Cally who suggested a game of chess at the end of a particularly uneventful day.
Avon had expected Cally, being a computer, to present a reasonable challenge. What he hadn’t expected was light conversation between moves. He began to have a growing respect for its programmers. They had certainly gone beyond what was strictly essential for the ship to function. Chess became a regular feature after the day’s exercises.
Avon had always been more comfortable around computers than people. Without meaning to, Avon found he was telling Cally more about himself than he had ever told anyone else. He was pleasantly surprised to discover Cally could sing when she began to accompany the songs he played off duty with her own harmonies. He ended up playing all the music on his discs just to see how she would interpret them. Avon knew she was just a computer system, but occasionally he caught himself thinking of Cally as a person. Which he reflected ruefully, was the hallmark of a true A.I. system.
Cally for her part, really enjoyed his company. For some reason she could not fathom she kept replaying their nightly conversations while Avon slept. The music he played was of a much broader range than she had encountered in the development laboratory. It entranced her, so much so she couldn’t resist joining in. To her delight, he encouraged her to experiment rather than reprimanding her for interfering with his listening
They were executing a series of combat drills designed to stretch the Viper to its limit. During one exercise when the ship made a particularly sharp turn, Avon blacked out
He came round in his chair with a pounding headache. His vision was still a little blurred and the room showed a disturbing tendency to rotate at the slightest movement. He tried to put a hand to his aching head and had a panicked moment when they refused to move. Looking down, he saw blearily that his forearm had been strapped down and a drip of some sort was going into the back of his hand.
“Cally, what happened,” he said, his words slurring slightly.
“There was a malfunction of the inertial compensators,” Cally replied in a small voice.
“I stopped the drill as soon as you became unconscious. The ship sustained no damage,” she continued in a firmer tone.
“Oh!” Avon managed, resting back on the headrest. “Well, run a full diagnostic on the compensators and ancillary systems. And get these things off me!”
“The diagnostics are already running,” Cally said.
Avon felt a brief sting of pain as the I.V. tube was disengaged and then the clamps holding his arms released him.
“Thank you, Cally,” he said, surprising himself. It was a computer. You didn’t thank a computer, even if it did save your life. Cally too was surprised. He had addressed her as if she was a person. Even when they were talking over the chessboard Avon had still treated her like a computer.
“You’re welcome, captain,” Cally replied. Avon blinked and wondered who had thought it necessary to program in the correct response. Evidently the programmer had expected the pilots would like civility from their computer. Avon smiled grimly, considering some of the pilots he had met; it would make more sense if Cally swore like a trooper.
Avon was glad to let it perform the necessary checks and diagnostics as his body recovered. He was inwardly glad he hadn’t ordered Cally not to do anything without his express permission. He’d been tempted to do so after its precipitate checks before they left the station. Cally’s prompt actions now had undoubtedly saved his life. He made a mental note to commend this in his report of the incident. Cally may only have been doing what it was programmed, but it was worth noting that a computer capable of proactive action did have its uses.
Avon wasn’t sure exactly what Cally had dosed him with, but the headache was soon receding and the room no longer turned around him. He was just considering trying to move again when Cally announced the investigation had been completed.
The inertial dampers had failed.
With a groan Avon levered himself out of his chair and went to collect the toolkit.
“Is it bad?” Cally asked
“Bad enough,” Avon replied. He held up the board. It was cracked down the middle, a number of components blackened and twisted.
Cally’s camera zoomed in on the identity code displayed on its front. “We don’t have a replacement in stock.”
“Hell!” Avon exclaimed, “Well, I could jury-rig a repair. However, I couldn’t say how long it would hold.”
“Oh, does that mean we have to head back?”
Avon couldn’t help but smile at the note of disappointment in the computer’s voice. Sometimes he thought it sounded almost too human.
“Not exactly,” he replied. “I don’t think I’d like to try a jump of that length.”
“There is a small military base in Sector 2,” Cally offered.
Avon considered; that was only a short hop from their current position. His repair would certainly last until they got to the base. It wasn’t a particularly specialised component so he should have no difficulty in obtaining a replacement.
“We’ll head there then. Cally compute the course.” Avon turned back to the open panel, wiping sweat from his eyes. The engineering section was uncomfortably hot with so much crammed into such a confined space.
A short while later Avon entered the flight deck. A glass of iced water waited for him as he took his seat. Avon hadn’t actually asked for it, but he certainly needed a drink; the conditions had been stifling in the compartment. Avon wasn’t entirely sure he liked the computer’s recent habit of anticipating his needs. At that moment however the small attention was much appreciated. This time he didn’t reprimand Cally. The glass was drained in one gulp. Avon set it back on the holder, where it retracted, only to return moments later refilled, this time with a cloudy solution.
“Cally,” Avon said a note of warning in his voice.
“You need to restore your electrolyte balance.” Cally returned primly.
Avon didn’t comment, but strapped himself in and sipped the drink.
“Course computed,“ Cally offered once he had finished.
“Engage the hyperspace drive,” Avon commanded.
He held his breath as the ship shifted into hyper-dimensional space, releasing it only when the Viper was cruising steadily. He gave an inward smile at his own lack of trust; the repair was holding. Avon decided he would check it again before they shifted back to normal space. He didn’t fancy becoming a greasy smear on the walls of the flight deck. The first thing he had learnt as a test pilot was that complacency kills.
For the first time, the shift to normal space left Avon feeling queasy. There had better be a replacement board, Avon thought grimly. The Viper was not going to make another Shift without it.
“Captain!” Cally called urgently. “The base is under attack. It’s the Liberator.”
“Put it on screen,” Avon ordered.
Cally was right, two pursuit ships were trying to prevent the Liberator from raking the base with its blasters. Make that one, Avon corrected as one of the defenders blossomed into a ball of light and then vanished.
The remaining pursuit ship did not stand a chance against the Liberator on its own. The base would be destroyed if he didn’t go to their aid. They had no choice; their combat simulations were about to become reality.
The Viper swooped into attack. Its small size, speed and manouveureability made the Viper a difficult target for the Liberator. The Viper dodged the Liberator’s fire while harrying it with the Viper’s own weapons. The Liberator began to retreat in the face of its bantam opponent.
Avon’s triumph was short-lived. The world went black as the compensators failed under the strain.
“Avon!” Cally screamed frantically at the slumped figure in the pilot’s chair. The medical sensors in the chair assured her he was alive. She sighed in relief and began to treat him. Her programming was screaming at her to continue the assault on the Liberator but if she did that she would kill Avon. She couldn’t bring herself to do that.
Instead Cally slowed the ship, trying not to injure Avon any further. The Liberator was forgotten as she concentrated all her attention on her stricken captain.
She was so busy working on Avon that she did not notice the Liberator’s approach. Nor did she sense the invasion of her mind until it was too late.
Avon came round, not surprised to find his head pounding. He was lying on a bed, not in his chair. He wasn’t on the Viper but it didn’t look like a Federation facility either.
“How are you feeling?” a man’s voice asked.
Avon turned his head in the direction of the voice. The room did a slow spiral around him. Avon blinked, fighting nausea. A face swam into view. The brown eyes and dark curly hair were all too familiar. It was Blake. Avon was a prisoner on Blake’s ship.
“I’ve been better,” Avon managed. He had jerked to a sitting position on sighting Blake. Now that the shock had faded, Avon sank back down again as the room spun dizzyingly around him. ”My ship, what has happened to it?”
“It’s safe in the hold.” Blake replied. “Interesting drive system you have and as for Cally…”
“I had heard your ship has a sophisticated A.I. computer,” Avon interrupted. “So why should you be interested in my system.”
“Is that all she is to you, just a computer?” Blake asked.
“Blake, it’s a machine.” Avon frowned, wondering where this line of questioning was leading.
“You really have no idea, have you?” Blake leaned over him. “You don’t know who is flying your ship.”
Avon’s frown deepened. He had expected an interrogation as to his vessel’s capabilities. This was odd though; Blake acted as if Cally was a real person, not a computer.
“Who, Blake? It’s an A.I., a machine.” Avon sighed. “It’s no more alive than that medical monitor.”
“That machine was once a person!” Blake snapped. “A living, breathing being just like you or I. The Federation conquered her people because Aurons are telepaths. They took her brain out of her body and put it in that ship because only telepaths can sense hyper-dimensional space.”
Blake was almost shouting by the end of his little speech.
Avon studied him calmly. ”An interesting story, Blake, but why should I believe a word of it? Brains running ships belong in the realm of bad romance novels.”
Blake stared at him, looking as if he was about to explode. Abruptly he hauled Avon to his feet. Avon grimly held on to his stomach contents as it lurched in protest.
Wordlessly Blake marched him down corridor after corridor. Seeing the set of Blake’s jaw and his narrowed eyes Avon gave up any idea of protesting. He concentrated instead on keeping his feet under him, too stubborn to betray any weakness in front of Blake.
Eventually they stepped through a hatch. The Viper lay beyond like a dragon in its lair.
Avon’s hope of stopping to catch his breath was soon dashed, Blake didn’t even slow down as he dragged Avon through his craft’s engineering hatch and into the heart of the Viper.
The computer capsule rested in its cradle, a series of lights glowing along its length. Avon frowned, noting that a number were yellow and a few were red. If Blake really believed there was a person in there he didn’t seem that concerned by the warning lights.
A man was bending over the access panel with a tool in his hand. He was shorter than Avon, though not by much, with brown receding hair and a pleasant open face.
He smiled a greeting at Blake. “Nearly got it.”
“Thank you, Vila,” Blake replied.
Avon wished he wasn’t feeling so sick and dizzy. With Blake’s attention diverted by Vila he could have tried to overpower the rebel leader. Still he wasn’t entirely without resources.
“Cally!” Avon’s voiced hissed urgently. There was no response; the computer was silent.
“What have you done to it?” Avon snarled at Vila.
Blake rounded on him, “That’s not an ‘it’, I told you. There is a living being in there, at least what’s left of one.”
“You’re insane, Blake.” Avon began to turn away.
Blake swung him back. Avon swayed but still managed to punch Blake full in the face before he fell. As the world around him greyed over Avon could make out another man running up. Hazily he observed a tall, burly man remonstrating with Blake that their prisoner shouldn’t even be out of bed, never mind fighting. Then everything went blessedly black.
Avon returned to the world a few minutes later. His head felt less like it was going to drop from his shoulders; the pain had settled down to a painful throb behind his eyes.
Vila had managed to get the access panel open in spite of the security locks. Blake was leaning over the technician’s shoulder. Avon sat up carefully, trying not to draw attention to himself.
“Easy now.” A large hand gripped his shoulder. How had he forgotten the giant?
Blake turned at the sound of the man’s voice.
“Bring him, Gan!” he ordered curtly, his voice sounding furious.
Gan hauled him none too gently to his feet. Avon shrugged off the man’s hand. Gan let him, but remained close. Avon tugged his jacket straight and strode over to Blake. He halted a few inches from him so they were eye to eye.
“Well?” Avon drawled icily.
“Look there and tell me that that is just a computer.” Blake pointed at the open panel.
Avon turned his head and stared, appalled.
Instead of a complex array of wires and circuitry, the capsule contained a brain floating in a clear liquid. It was anchored to the sides of the vessel by wires and tubes.
Avon swallowed the gorge rising in his throat. The A.I. he had thought of as sounding too human really was a person.
Avon stepped back from the panel and indicated the lights. His mind, still reeling from the shock, focussed on the practical.
“They should all be green.” He stated, his voice sounding normal, in spite of his inner turmoil.
“Can you fix…” Blake stopped. He took a deep breath and continued, “Help her.”
Avon suppressed a smile; you didn’t ‘fix’ people.
“Well, the computer might have been designated ‘top secret’, but I do know how to maintain her.” Avon replied. He now knew why he had not been allowed to study that aspect of the ship. Avon was relieved that they had at least acceded to his request for instructions on basic maintenance.
Vila replaced the panel and Avon set to work. Avon was briefly tempted to activate the ship’s self-destruct mechanism which he could access from there. As a good Federation officer he really ought to take the opportunity to destroy Blake once and for all. However as heroic self-sacrifice was not his forte he resisted the urge.
Soon all the lights were glowing green. Avon gave a sigh of relief and satisfaction.
“Cally, respond please,” he requested, his voice tense.
“Avon?” the reply was hesitant.
Avon smiled broadly, feeling unaccountably happy, considering they were still Blake’s prisoners.
He asked Cally a question he never put to a computer before. ”How are you feeling, Cally?”
There was a pause before she replied, “Confused!”
“That makes two of us,” Avon commented drily. “Cally, do you know what you are?”
“Of course,” she replied, “I am Cally AI system XK3279.”
Avon looked at Blake. “Have you considered how we are going to convince her that she is more than just a computer?”
Blake nodded. “Zen can access her systems. He thinks he can unblock her memory.”
“Why should I trust that Zen hasn’t implanted those memories?” Avon asked coldly.
Blake looked taken aback. Avon wondered if he was naïve enough to expect Avon to trust him. Watching as the rebel leader’s expression went from shock to outrage and then annoyance Avon realised that Blake had not considered he wouldn’t. Avon was surprised Blake had lasted so long against the Federation.
“What do you suggest?” Blake asked his tone angry.
“I want to be able to monitor them.”
Blake didn’t look at all pleased to hear that. Avon smiled inwardly. So Blake was loath to let him anywhere near Zen. Evidently Blake trusted him as much as he trusted Blake. Perhaps his survival wasn’t such a puzzle after all.
“I’ll have to ask Zen and find out if that’s possible,” Blake replied.
Once Blake had gone with Vila following in his wake Avon slowly sank down against the nearest wall. He rested his head against its cool metal surface. Closing his eyes seemed to ease the throbbing in his skull.
“Are you all right?” Gan asked, crouching beside him.
“No, but I’ll live,” Avon replied, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“Avon,” Cally’s voice suddenly spoke up. “I can’t access communications, sensors or weaponry.”
“Cally, you are inside The Liberator, Blake’s ship. I don’t think they want you to blow them to kingdom come.” Avon said wryly. “Now would you like to tell me what happened after I blacked out during the battle?”
“I’m not sure,” Cally replied hesitantly. “I was trying to take care of you when…Avon there was something else accessing my systems. I tried to resist but it had taken control of my peripherals and then shut me down. And then I heard you call my name. You even said ‘please’, you’ve never said that before.”
Avon laughed slightly, “Yes I did, didn’t I. Well it must be the headache.”
“You have a headache? I’m sorry, I can’t tell, the inboard sensors won’t work either.”
Avon frowned; Zen had closed down almost all her peripherals. Avon wondered how long she could cope with only audio input. Damn Blake! He knew Cally wasn’t a computer; yet he had no qualms about treating her like one.
Avon’s eyes snapped open, fixing Gan with an arctic glare. “Get me Blake.”
“I’m not supposed to leave you on your own,” Gan said.
“Then call him! Tell him…” Avon took a deep breath, reining in his temper. “Tell him I need to speak to him urgently about Cally.”
Gan hesitated. To call Blake, he would have to use the communicator unit inside the hold. Yet he couldn’t abandon Avon, however briefly.
Avon gave an exasperated sigh and scrambled to his feet. “I’ll go with you.”
Blake came quickly in answer to Avon’s summons. Avon watched him advance; Blake’s brusque steps clearly indicated his temper had not improved. Well Avon reflected his summons hadn’t exactly been tactfully phrased, but then he hadn’t been feeling at all diplomatic.
“This had better be important!” Blake barked at him.
Avon gave him a trenchant glare. “Apart from internal communications, your computer has shut off Cally’s peripherals. That includes her internal sensors. So Blake, how long, would you last in sensory deprivation?”
To Avon’s surprise the rebel leader went pale at the thought.
Blake opened his mouth and closed it again. He swallowed and found his voice. “I’ll have Zen restore her internal sensors immediately.”
He turned on his heel and left. Avon watched his retreating back.
“He’s a man of his word,” Gan said confidently.
“I have internal sensors again!” Cally reported a few moments later. “Avon, are you all right?”
Avon gave a brief laugh. “Gan as I’m not going to get any peace until she checks me over, you might as well follow me.”
“The pilot’s welfare is my primary concern,” Cally offered, sounding somewhat affronted.
His headache had mostly subsided but he lay down in the medical alcove. Cally insisted on scanning him thoroughly, which almost made Avon regret humouring her.
Avon sighed. There were enough sedatives in the drawers above the bed to knock out an ox, never mind Gan. Instead he found himself sharing a meal with his erstwhile jailer in the galley. He couldn’t escape while Zen had total control over Cally’s systems.
They had just finished eating when Blake came in to announce that Zen could include Avon in the link and that they were ready. The meal he had just consumed settled like lead in the pit of his stomach. He had asked to monitor, not participate! He did not like the idea of Zen being able to get inside his head. Blake was still watching him. Avon wondered if the man expected him to back out.
“Well, lead the way,” Avon said coldly.
Blake took him through the maze of corridors until they reached the flight deck of the Liberator.
Avon paused on the threshold. It was an incredible sight, nothing like a Federation military or even civilian craft. Five banks of consoles arranged in three tiers faced a less formal seating area which contained its own console. An odd hemisphere projected out from the wall of the flight deck. The room was spacious and looked more like it belonged to a pleasure liner. This ‘cruise ship’ though could out gun and out fly even the most advanced pursuit ship.
Blake had moved to stand by one of the flight consoles. Hovering proprietarily there was a blond, curly haired woman.
“Avon this is Jenna, Jenna Stannis, Liberator’s pilot.”
Avon gave her a curt nod and then turned to Blake.
“Can we get on with it?” he drawled in a bored tone, determined not to show how nervous he felt.
“Just place your hand here.” Blake indicated a green panel on the console.
Jenna looked like she would like to object, but backed off after a glance from Blake.
Avon looked doubtfully at him.
“Zen will do the rest,” Blake finished, stepping back.
Avon glared at him suspiciously but placed his hand on the grid. He felt a slight tingle and tried to pull his hand back. It was stuck fast; he couldn’t move his hand. His other hand reached for a gun that wasn’t there.
“Blake, if this is some kind of a trap…” he hissed. The threat didn’t get any further.
Suddenly he felt something invading his mind. Instinctively he tried to push it away, but that only caused pain.
The flight deck and its occupants ceased to matter. His attention was all on the battle being waged inside his skull. He stubbornly resisted until he heard Cally’s voice calling his name. He felt a phantom caress brushing his face. She was not visible but he could feel her as a physical presence in his mind. There was another there too. Avon realised that he had been fighting Zen, who had only been trying to establish contact, not take him over completely.
To his surprise Cally wrapped herself around him. He couldn’t see her but it felt like she was there, pressed up against him. The touch helped to steady him.
“Do you know why you are here?” Avon asked softly.
“Zen said there was something I had to remember,” Cally replied. “But I’ve searched my databanks and there is nothing missing.”
“Cally, listen to me. You are not a computer.” Avon stated focussing firmly on the female he could almost see. He tried not to think of the disembodied brain floating in its capsule.
“But I…” she began.
Avon halted her words by placing a fingertip over her lips. Although neither the finger nor the lips had any physical reality it had the desired effect. Cally shut up. What Avon hadn’t expected was the fierce jolt of sensation as they touched. The mental images of Cally and Zen wavered as desire suddenly knifed through him. Irritated by his own lack of control, Avon forced his mind to focus back on them and not his own libido.
“Zen is going to unlock your memories as a person,” Avon said, wondering why Zen hadn’t got on with it yet.
“Will it hurt?” Cally asked hesitantly.
Avon could sense she was very much afraid, which is why she had clung to him. This was both flattering and disturbing; he was not used to being seen as a source of comfort. The fact she felt so secure with him almost had Avon drawing away, except that he felt Cally’s panic at the thought. He wasn’t going to examine why that held him in place or why he instead enfolded himself around her, so she was the one being held.
Avon turned the question over to Zen who had simply hovered as a disembodied presence, observing them.
“That information is not available,” The computer responded.
Comparing the two of them, Avon wondered why he had thought Cally was just an A.I. system. Meeting Zen had made it very clear what the differences were. Although Zen was in mental contact, Avon felt nothing from him. In contrast Cally was scared, yet determined and also surprisingly curious.
“Get on with it,” Avon instructed Zen before Cally’s courage failed her.
Avon fell into a dizzying spiral; Cally clung to him tightly and he tightened his grip on her.
They emerged into a scene of chaos. Federation storm troopers were everywhere. Their carriers and attack craft filled the skies like great black ravens, raining death and destruction below. He was seeing through Cally’s eyes; these were her memories. He watched as Zelda, Cally’s clone sister, led frightened Auronar children to the dubious safety of the tunnels below the crèche facilities. They watched her tall slim figure out of sight. Avon watched as Cally, with her other sisters by her side, defended the facility against the inexorable tide of Federation troopers that stormed up the steps. Pain washed through them as, one by one, her sisters fell under the onslaught. Then he felt a massive flare of pain as Cally too was hit.
A soul-searing scream ripped through him, jolting him back to the present. Cally was still locked into the memory, replaying the moments she and her sisters fell. Her agony washed over him. Avon gathered her to him, calling her name, trying to reach her.
She finally stopped screaming. Instead a vast wave of loneliness swept over him, almost bringing him to his knees.
He gripped her tighter, “Cally you are not alone! I am here.”
He could feel her reaching out desperately to him. Without pausing to think, he reached back. He could feel her mind twining and joining with his. The tide of loneliness and pain was obliterated. Picturing her lips he bent his head and kissed her. It was a kiss that went to the centre of their souls, fusing them as one. Cally was in his mind and he was in hers, sharing, exploring, touching, knowing each other in ways more intimate than lovers.
They were so involved with each other that Zen’s voice came as a shock.
“Avon you must return, now.”
Reluctantly, Avon drew back. Cally’s form was shining with a brilliant white light. He wondered if he was glowing too.
“Yes,” Cally laughed.
All too abruptly he was back on the flight deck. He moved his hand away from the console, feeling strangely bereft. His eyes met Jenna’s. She looked almost sympathetic. Avon suddenly understood how they knew how that panel worked.
“You’re Zen’s pilot,” he said.
She nodded.
That word had taken on a whole new meaning. Although Avon was in his own body he realised he could still feel Cally’s warm, vibrant presence in his mind.
“Well?” demanded Blake.
Avon resisted an impulse to say, “Fine thank you, and you?” Instead he replied, “I need to speak to Cally.”
Avon had discovered that although he could feel her he couldn’t actually communicate with her mentally. He needed to be on his ship.
Blake of course insisted on going with him along with his quiet keeper, Gan.
Avon Cally’s voice rang softly inside his head before they reached the hold.
Startled, Avon almost stumbled. How can I hear you? he thought in reply.
It seems I have regained my telepathy. Besides Avon, we are linked, of course you can hear me.
Linked! Avon came to a dead stop. He had only meant to offer comfort to her. Avon had not really intended anything else. He had become permanently mentally bonded to Cally. The thought didn’t dismay him as he expected. Instead he felt a glow of warmth in his heart.
He was supposed to be just her test pilot, damn it! Avon was only meant to try the ship’s paces before handing it on. He couldn’t do that now. Apart from anything else the thought of Cally being at the mercy of another pilot who would also regard her as a machine filled him with fury.
Avon sensed Cally’s amusement at that. Aurons didn’t believe in exclusivity.
I’m not jealous! Avon protested. I just don’t like the thought of you being treated that way.
Avon frowned. The Federation Space Command would not want her to be aware of her past. He couldn’t take her back; they’d either wipe her memory again or destroy her. His own life expectancy might be rather brief too.
I am NOT going back! Cally declared firmly.
“Avon!” Blake called, shaking him by the shoulder.
Avon blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings again. Blake was standing next to him looking rather concerned. Avon realised he had been standing in the middle of the corridor apparently just staring off into space.
“I was talking to Cally.“ Avon shrugged off Blake’s hand.
“Cally? We heard nothing.” Blake frowned.
Avon gave him a withering glare. “She is a telepath, Blake. Now if you’ll excuse me we hadn’t finished our conversation.”
With that he turned his attention inward So what do we do now? he thought.
We go to Auron , find Zelda, if she is still alive, and set the rest of my people free.Cally’s determination was so fierce, Avon found himself becoming angry too as her fury flooded into him.
Easier said than done. We would have no authorisation to be there. We would need information on the Federations defences there. Still, if we were pursuing Liberator there… Avon sighed mentally No, that wouldn’t work, we couldn’t save an entire planet that way.
We can’t just leave them! They will enslave my people to make more computers like me! Cally protested vehemently.
I don’t think there is anyone like you. Avon replied, smiling inwardly.
Oh!Cally was actually flustered at the compliment.
We are getting off the point, he reminded her. The only way Auron would be safe would be if the Federation was no longer a threat.
Blake could help us, Cally declared with utter conviction.
Avon laughed. Blake would view it as the other way round. Cally would you mind waiting until we get to our ship before we discuss it with him?
All right, I like that, though, “our ship”.
Cally’s pleasure in that phrase washed over him. Avon found himself smiling.
Whatever was going to happen to them, they would face it together. Somehow that made it easier to bear.
Cally silently agreed as Avon followed his escort to the hold containing their ship.