Blake’s 7: Warship (11 page)

Vila looked away, appalled. Around him, alien limpets scuttled closer on their gangling legs, and surrounded the airlock door.

He dropped down below the hull, and whacked the door control on the inner wall. The hatchway above him sealed with a clunk he could feel through his boots.

The wall gauge showed air was rapidly pumping into the airlock. It wasn’t long before the room repressurised, and Vila could open the inner door.

He didn’t go straight through it. Instead, he slumped down onto the airlock floor and tugged off his cracked helmet, ripped away his gloves and flung them to one side of the room. There was a skittering, scratching sound, but he didn’t care what he’d damaged.

He put his face in his hands, his breath coming in great heaving gulps.

‘Oh Jenna. What have I done?’

Blake slammed a frustrated fist down on the table. The vibration made his whole arm tingle. Beneath his thermal suit he felt a sharp point of pain at the site of his injury.

He and Cally had been hunting for communications equipment for too long. He caught her disapproving look from where she watched him, on an adjacent island of equipment beyond the suspended walkway. He sucked in a deep, calming breath. It would do no good for him to exacerbate the wound. They would likely have no more luck finding medical instruments in this enormous cavern than they’d already had locating a comms unit. It wouldn’t help if he died down here of his gunshot wound, a victim at last of Travis’s final attack.

Yet he and his crew had already made compromises. Back on
Liberator
, they’d swallowed their pride and contacted the Federation for reinforcements to hold back the alien invasion. A Federation that, until then, had lost all memory of the defence grid around Star One. It would be the worst of ironies for them to arrive only to be destroyed, along with everything else in the immediate vicinity, by an even older, deeper Federation secret. It was almost as though Blake could hear Megiddo all around him ticking, ticking, ticking towards destruction.

He tried his comms bracelet yet again. No signal at all. No way to contact
Liberator
. ‘We must be far too deep underground,’ he told Cally.

‘Or they are not there,’ she replied, walking across the bridge to rejoin him. ‘Avon said he would not remain on station.’

Blake scuffed his feet on the dusty floor. ‘Can you reach him telepathically?’

Cally shook her head. ‘I have tried,’ she admitted. ‘But even if he could hear my messages, I cannot confirm that he has done so. And his continued absence suggests otherwise.’

‘Or he can’t get to us through the storm and ice outside.’

Cally seemed so frustrated with herself. ‘I was able to perceive what the human fleet was thinking. My telepathic ability has been enhanced since we arrived in this sector, Blake. I think…’

‘What?’

Cally looked across at the cabinets arrayed in semicircles. ‘I think it is the powerful effect of these humans, connected into the Megiddo systems.’

Blake laughed mirthlessly. ‘Perhaps you should ask
them
to contact the Federation for us.’

‘If only,’ she admitted. ‘They seem to have been reaching out to me since we got here.’

‘Well that’s it!’ Blake was laughing again, but now it was in delight at a fresh idea. ‘If anyone knows where the comms equipment is here, it’s the operators. So why don’t you ask them?’

Cally seemed to think this was a good idea. Blake watched, in a mixture of admiration and concern, as she composed herself and froze into immobility. Despite the machine hum all around them, she was able somehow to disengage from her immediate surroundings.

Within a couple of minutes, she blinked back to into life. ‘It’s no wonder we couldn’t find the comms controls,’ Cally said. She led Blake across a couple of the connecting bridges to one of the equipment islands at the very edge of the cavernous room. ‘They stored it away, because they knew they would never use it again.’ She drew a cover from what appeared to be a simple wooden box, and lifted out an antique-looking comms desk with an integrated monitor and speaker. ‘And no, they didn’t want to contact the Federation for us.’

Blake plugged in the comms desk and powered it up. ‘Thanks for asking, anyway.’

‘I was joking. They’re the trigger for a bomb,’ she said. ‘They don’t do requests.’

It had been a long time since Blake had used such old-fashioned equipment. He took for granted that he could bark commands at Zen, and have the ship’s computer handle the connections. Or bark commands at his crew on the
Liberator
. Perhaps he’d started to take them for granted, too.

The equipment was set up for an all-points broadcast to Federation channels. Blake had to wonder whether the same channels had survived for hundreds of years, or whether he had made the right connections in the comms desk to ensure that his message was getting outside of this room. ‘This is an urgent transmission to all Federation vessels. Do you copy?’

Only a static hiss came over the speakers. The oval view screen showed a zigzag pattern of interference.

‘D’you think this thing’s even working?’ Blake struck out with his open palm, and the equipment jolted.

Cally slapped his hand away. ‘That won’t help. You’ll break it.’ She repositioned the speakers and adjusted the camera lens.

‘I think it’s broken anyway,’ grumbled Blake. ‘It can’t have been used for centuries.’ He raised his voice again. ‘Federation vessels, do you copy? This is an urgent transmission from the security facility on Megiddo.’

Cally sat beside him at the comms desk. ‘Perhaps they are not yet in range.’

‘We saw them starting to arrive,’ he reminded her. ‘Back on
Liberator
.’

‘Unless they did not survive their first engagement with the enemy.’

‘You’re full of cheery thoughts, Cally. But it is odd that they would ignore us.’

He pressed the comms link one more time. This time, the static hiss was abruptly interrupted by an incoming signal. Blake tried to tune out the interference and boost the voice signal.

‘This is Escort Group Nine. We receive you. Barely.’

Blake whooped with delight. ‘They are out there! But the signal is corrupted…’

‘Switch to channel alpha-epsilon,’
the voice said.
‘Those antediluvian systems are so antiquated as to be an embarrassment.’

‘Alpha-epsilon?’ Blake puzzled.

Cally reached past him and cranked one of the handles. ‘I suppose it must be this one.’

‘We read you, Escort Group Nine.’

‘Your signal is clearer, now.’

‘This is Megiddo facility. My name is…’

‘Roj Blake,’
said the voice.
‘I know.’

‘Oh.’ Blake stared at the comms speakers. Then he stared at Cally, as though she might explain it somehow. ‘Did you hear that from Space Command HQ?’

The zigzag interference was clearing now. An oval face with short hair was coming into focus. ‘You seem to be in regular contact with me, Blake,’ it said. ‘I’m touched.’

Blake groaned. ‘Look who it is, Cally.’

‘Oh, splendid.’
On the view screen, Servalan beamed with apparent delight as the camera showed her who sat beside Blake.
‘You have Cally with you on Megiddo. All friends together. Quite a reunion.’

Cally scowled at the camera. ‘I am no friend of yours.’

Servalan sipped delicately at the elegant drink in her hand.
‘And yet, here we are, Cally. Chatting away.’

Blake stared at the woman on the screen. They had rarely met in person, and if they did it meant that one of them was usually at the end of a gun. And now his pursuit of the real Control, located at Star One, had brought both him and Servalan here. To the edge of human space. They weren’t aiming guns at each other any longer. They were facing each other over a comms link. And facing up to a common enemy, as the alien fleet massed at the border of their galaxy.

‘I wish I could say it was a pleasure, Servalan.’

She smiled her acid smile.
‘It is for me.’

Blake didn’t know who in the Federation had received
Liberator
‘s original appeal for reinforcements, but this was unexpected. ‘I didn’t think you’d show your face on the front line, Servalan. Too dangerous. You’d rather let others do your dirty work.’

Servalan waved away some flunkey just out of vision, and continued smiling at Blake.
‘You do seem to have contained the alien fleet. Thank you for that.’
She took another sip from her glass.
‘And while the Federation vessels complete the job, what better than a morale-boosting visit from me? Bound to do the troops a power of good.’

‘Power!’ spat Blake. ‘A word that trips so easily from your poisonous tongue, Supreme Commander.’

Servalan glanced off to one side of her camera in mock indignation, as though appealing to some unseen person in the room. ‘
Madam President, if you don’t mind.’
Her eyes stared right into him, now, piercing like lasers.
‘So don’t be hurtful, Blake. You’re in no position. Whereas, thanks to you, mine does seem to have improved.’
She waved her empty cocktail glass at the person with her, and it was immediately replaced.

Cally was not intimidated. ‘Your position is about to deteriorate, Servalan.’

‘We’re all in grave danger,’ Blake emphasised. He could feel the situation slipping out of his grasp. Since Travis’s death, Blake loathed the woman on this screen more than anyone he knew. He held her responsible for the death of Gan, for countless military actions against innocent civilians, and now for being the prime representative of the Federation itself. Every fibre of him wanted to make her pay for all of that. And yet, he knew it had to wait for another time. Today, he had to work with the Federation.

‘
Do tell,’
Servalan prompted him.

‘This war is by no means over. That huge alien fleet is barely contained.’

‘I know my Federation technology is far superior to theirs,’
she interrupted.

Blake gritted his teeth, trying to stay calm. ‘Well, this Federation technology here on Megiddo is about to kill us all.’ He widened the view on the camera lens, to allow Servalan a fuller view of the planetoid’s cavernous interior. ‘This whole facility is an enormous plasma bomb. You have to use your Federation command protocols to override these systems.’ He leaned in closer. ‘You must defuse this thing.’

Servalan leaned back in her seat.
‘I don’t think so.’

Cally bent in towards the camera, her voice quiet and urgent. ‘It will destroy the aliens, the humans, and every last one of your Federation ships.’

‘The weapon is indiscriminate,’ Blake agreed. ‘It’s a blunt instrument.’

Servalan seemed fascinated with the fingernails on her left hand. After a moment, she favoured the camera with her attention again, and said:
‘I know.’

Blake didn’t think he’d understood her. ‘What?’

Servalan took another indulgent sip of her cocktail. She licked her lips. Blake’s bafflement seemed to amuse her.
‘It was something the head of the psycho-manipulation team mentioned during his…’
She pondered what might be the right word.
‘… during his debriefing. It didn’t make sense at first. But then my interrogators worked it out. Megiddo.’
She enunciated the word as three separate syllables, delighting in the name.
‘The Federation’s armageddon device.’

Blake looked at Cally. It seemed she couldn’t believe what she was hearing either. ‘It will destroy everything!’ she said.

‘As I said. Superior Federation technology.’

Blake could not longer contain his temper. He slammed his balled fist onto the comms console, and the speakers and screen rattled. ‘What about the ships from the frontier planets? They’ve been defending your galaxy.’

The image on the screen settled down, and revealed that Servalan was still completely unmoved.
‘There may be some… collateral damage.’

‘And your own fleet?’ Cally asked quietly.

Servalan checked something on a read-out in front of her. ‘It appears I have held back sixty percent of my fleet.’

Maybe if he pleaded with her, Blake thought. Maybe then she would see how serious this was. And she would see reason. ‘Servalan, please! You have to prevent this. You have to stop Megiddo.’

Servalan looked directly into the lens.
‘No,’
she said.
‘I really don’t.’
She was already reaching for something on the control desk in front of her. She hesitated briefly.
‘Goodbye, Blake.’

Her image splintered into a million pixels, and the sound cut abruptly to static.

‘Servalan?’ yelled Blake, scrabbling at the switches in front of him. ‘Servalan!’

Cally pulled his furious hands away from the comms controls he was crushing. ‘She has gone, Blake,’ she said quietly. She stood up, and walked away from the desk. ‘And we must go, too.’

‘Go where?’ he wondered. ‘Back to the
Liberator
? Maybe we could blast Megiddo into pieces.’

‘Does the
Liberator
have that power?’

Blake pondered this. ‘Or we could at least deflect its orbit. Send it back off into deep space.’

‘What about the alien fleet?’

Blake had already thought of that. ‘Servalan will have no option but to commit her remaining fleet to the battle.’

‘Perhaps.’ Cally looked uncertain.

Blake wasn’t sure that he had any more words to convince her. He tried his comms bracelet again. The activation chime sounded lost in this vast room. And there was no response from
Liberator
. No way of teleporting back from here.

‘Maybe we’re too far below the surface. Come on, Cally.’ Blake started across the bridge, on a route towards the cavern’s arched entrance. He had to stop with a groan after only a few steps as the pain in his side kicked in again.

Cally was beside him at once. ‘I do not think you can manage the climb.’

Blake thought about the difficult journey ahead, clambering back up that long, narrow ladder. And then, beyond the hatch, had that savage storm abated? Would they be able to contact
Liberator
even if they managed to get out of this place and back onto the surface of Megiddo?