CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

‘How long until we clear the cloud?’

Avon glanced at the instruments in front of him. ‘50,000 spacials.’

‘Excellent. Current speed?’

‘Standard by one.’

‘Too slow,’ Lant announced, relaxing back in his chair. ‘Increase to Standard by three.’

Avon shook his head.

‘I understand you’re in a hurry to leave, but I recommend we stay at this speed. If the automatics trip out the consequences could—’

Halla twisted where he sat, swinging his rifle with him.

‘He said, increase speed.’

Lant placed a hand over the barrel of the rifle, pushing it down gently. ‘Now, Halla. Remember, Avon’s with us now. He knows the Liberator and if he says we need to proceed cautiously, we proceed cautiously.’

‘Thank you,’ Avon acknowledged, surprised at the intervention. Halla didn’t look so happy.

‘Enjoy your freedom while you can,’ Travis sneered from where he sat safely in the sights of Leylana’s rifle, ‘you’ll be spending the rest of your lives languishing on a penal colony.’

Lant smiled at their prisoner, obviously amused by the threat. Avon had to give it to the Federation officer. Bound, debilitated and hopelessly outnumbered, Travis was still trying to intimidate his captors. The man was either a brilliant tactician or utterly deranged. Probably both.

‘I don’t think so, Travis. Not with a ship like this at my command.’ Lant got to his feet and walked forward, flinging his arms wide ‘Look at it. Such power! Blake never appreciated what he had.’

Avon felt his guts turn to ice at the mention of Blake’s name. Guilt was something quite new to him.

‘Know this, Space Commander Travis,’ Lant pointed a finger at the bound officer. ‘In years to come, your masters will look back at Roj Blake’s exploits with fondness, happy times compared to the misery I’m about to unleash.’

‘I doubt they’ll even notice.’

‘We’ll see, Travis, we’ll see. For now, I can’t wait to explore our new home. So many wonderful new toys.’ Lant reached out and plucked a handgun from the rack at the far end of the flight deck and tested its weight in his hand. ‘Such as these, for example.’

‘Not much to tell,’ Avon explained drily, busying himself at his station. ‘Focused energy discharge with a range of four to five metres. Powered by a self-regeneration energy pack. Basically, shoot at one end and people fall over at the other.’

Lant swept the slender weapon in a wide arc, letting it rest on Travis. Grinning, Lant stalked forward, his aim never wavering from the Federation officer’s head.

‘Is that supposed to intimidate me?’ Travis drawled, his face a picture of indifference. ‘It would be far more effective if they functioned.’

Lant came to a halt, the tip of the gun close to Travis’s battered face.

‘Don’t worry. We’ll be out of the cloud soon.’

*

Blake jogged down the partially lit corridor, passing storage bays and empty crew quarters, the purloined rifle held in one hand. He’d rather have his handgun, but it felt good to be armed again. To be ready.

‘Where are we going?’ Alexa asked from behind him, struggling to keep up. He slowed, letting her catch up. From the way she was breathing, he doubted that Alexa had played a part in Lant’s training sessions back on the station.

‘The only place I can go. The flight deck.’

‘But Farrow will be up there.’

‘I’m counting on it.’

‘Please,’ Alexa grabbed his arm, ‘wait.’

Blake came to a halt in front of a connecting door. ‘Alexa, we haven’t got long. Lant will be out of the nebula soon. Right now, the Liberator only has partial power. When full systems come back online, we won’t stand a chance.’

‘But what about Mikel?’ she asked, thin hands clutching her side. ‘He doesn’t know where I am. He’ll be terrified.’

‘Alexa, you don’t even know if he’s on the ship.’

Blake regretted the words as soon as he’d said them. Alexa’s eyes widened, a hand shooting up to her mouth.

‘He has to be. I left him with Cally. Even Farrow wouldn’t have…’

Her words dissolved into a sob. Blake lay a steadying hand on her shoulder.

‘Alexa, if he was with Cally, she’ll look after him.’

‘But where is she?’

I wish I knew, Blake thought. Where was any of his crew?

A noise from the other side of the door caused both of them to start. Someone was walking towards them. Blake glanced around for a place to hide.

‘Quick,’ he hissed, grabbing Alexa’s arm and pulling her towards a storage bay door. ‘In here.’

They slipped into the darkened bay just as the connecting door opened and one of Lant’s men stepped through. Blake pressed himself against the wall, cursing that he hadn’t had time to close the bay door behind him. Hardly daring to breathe, he motioned for Alexa to be quiet. Had they been spotted?

The rebel stepped into the bay.

*

The bullet clattered as it dropped into a dish. Vila swallowed the bile that was burning his throat.

‘Is it all out?’ he asked as Jenna placed the pair of bloodied calipers down on the metal side table and picked up a surgical cloth to clean her shaking fingers.

‘I think so. Once full systems are restored, we’ll be able to find out for sure.’

‘And when will that be?’

‘I don’t know, Vila, I’ll just call up to the flight deck and find out.’ Jenna selected a clean pad of gauze and gently placed it over the wound. ‘I’m sure Avon would be happy to share the information.’

‘So what do you suggest? Sit around and play doctors and nurses while god knows what’s happening up there?’

‘We haven’t much option at the moment.’ Jenna pulled a length of clear plastic bandage from a roll and indicated for Vila to help. He glanced around for a pair of scissors and cut along the material. ‘Unless you fancy taking on our two guards armed with a couple of scalpels and a packet of sticking plasters.’

She carefully laid the bandage on Cally’s stomach and watched as the intelligent material immediately moulded itself to her skin, sealing the wound.

‘There is another option,’ Vila ventured, knowing already that Jenna wouldn’t like it.

*

Blake froze. The ponytailed rebel was standing, shining his torch into the gloom of the storage bay just three paces from where they stood. If he turned around…

Blake looked at the slingshot he clutched in his hand. At least he wouldn’t be able to load it as long as he was also holding the torch.

Satisfied that there was no-one in the bay, the rebel let the beam of light drop. Turn the other way, Blake thought, just turn around and walk away.

The rebel turned and looked Blake dead in the eyes.

His mouth gaped open and he dropped the torch, fumbling for the slingshot. Blake didn’t give him the chance. The butt of his rifle smashed into the side of the rebel’s head with a sickening crunch.

*

The lights on the flight deck flared. Avon looked up from the controls. They weren’t at full strength, but they were brightening the nearer they approached the edge of the nebula. Avon’s eyes flicked to the translucent dome that housed the ship’s computer. How long would it be before Zen came back online? Would that even make a difference? Unlike Blake and the others, who treated the computer almost as if it was the seventh member of the crew, Avon knew that Zen was nothing more than a machine, a tool. Albeit an incredibly sophisticated one.

‘How long, Avon?’ Lant enquired.

‘3,000 spacials, although the effects of the cloud have lessened considerably.’

‘Could we increase speed?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Then do it, man.’

Avon pressed forward on the controls, watching the ship’s velocity increase.

‘Standard by two, Standard by three.’ The coloured bands of dust sparkling across the viewscreen started to thin, the first pinpoints of starlight shining through. ‘Standard by four. That’s as much as I can risk.’

The light on the flight desk intensified. Not that Lant would notice. All eyes were on the viewscreen.

‘Look, my friends,’ Lant said, his voice full of wonder. ‘We can see the stars. After so long. Stars. Galaxies. The universe laid bare.’

Whatever he thought of his new crewmates, Avon couldn’t begrudge them this moment. They must have thought this day would never come.

‘This is it, Halla,’ Lant continued, stepping forward as if he wanted to reach out and touch the edge of the cloud. ‘Back into the universe. Forgotten no more.’

‘1,500 spacials. We’ll clear the cloud in three minutes.’

‘I have returned,’ Lant yelled, spreading out his arms and throwing back his head as if he could feel the wind on his face. ‘Do you hear me? Farrow Lant has returned!’

And there is the truth of it, Avon thought, as they crossed the threshold into normal space. This isn’t really about your crew is it, Lant? This is all about you.

*

Sub-Commander Dean Signa of pursuit ship Epsilon One sat up in her command chair as soon as her navigator reported the contact which had appeared on the edge of the restricted zone.

‘Is it her?’ she asked, heart racing. ‘Is it the Liberator?’

‘Power signature, dimensions and mass match last known—’

‘Just tell me, yes or no!’

‘99.99 per cent probability that the contact is the Liberator.’

‘Thank you.’ Signa punched the communication toggle on her command chair in triumph. ‘Epsilon squadron. We have a fix on target. Repeat, fix on the target. Regroup and intercept.’

The leather of Signa’s chair creaked as she settled back. She supposed that she should really ask whether there had been any contact with Space Commander Travis’s ship, but she would be perfectly happy if she never saw that bastard’s face again.

*

Blake blinked as the storage bay lights flickered back into life. When his eyes adjusted to the glare, the first thing he saw was the man lying bleeding at his feet.

‘Dannick,’ Alexa gasped, staring into the man’s empty eyes. ‘You’ve killed him.’

Blake picked up Dannick’s weapon where it had fallen. ‘As he would have done to us.’

Alexa crouched down and brushed her fingers over Dannick’s deep-set eyes, closing them for the last time.

‘He wasn’t a bad man. I mean, none of Farrow’s crew were saints, but he was one of the good ones. Used to love playing chess. He even tried teaching Mikel.’

She began to cry again, pressing her hand against her mouth to stifle the sobs that wracked her entire body.

Blake knelt beside her, placing an arm around her shoulders. He half imagined she would stiffen at his touch, but Alexa pressed into him, letting the tears flow freely.

‘We will find him,’ Blake said softly, ‘I promise, but we need to keep moving.’

‘But Dannick…’

‘There’s nothing we can do for him. The only thing we have going for us is the element of surprise. Lant doesn’t know we’re on board. If he discovers, and Mikel is with him…’

‘He wouldn’t hurt Mikel,’ Alexa said coldly, pushing away from Blake and standing up.

‘You know that isn’t true. Would you have believed two days ago that he would leave you to rot on that station?’ Blake knew his words were harsh, but he needed Alexa with him for now. If she wavered, if she thought of warning her husband, all would be lost. He had to keep her thinking of Lant as a monster. ‘You said Dannick was a good man? But he was still with Lant. He could have stood up to him, stopped this. Any of them could have pleaded for you. But they didn’t. Why?’

He let the question hang in the air.

‘Alexa?’

The woman sniffed and made herself stand a little taller, a little firmer. She was obviously a lady who wasn’t used to showing weakness. ‘Because he is…because he was loyal to my husband. I understand, Blake.’

She held out her hand, indicating the slingshot. Blake took her meaning and handed it over. Without another word, she tested the weapon and bent down, pulling the small leather satchel of ammunition from Dannick’s body. She slipped it over her own head, tucked it under her arm and drew out a couple of bolts, loading the largest into the slingshot.

‘We’d better get going,’ she said with the voice of the woman who had stepped in and saved him from a beating that morning. Strong, determined. She strode from the storage bay, not giving Dannick’s body a second glance.

*

‘INFORMATION: LIBERATOR’S SYSTEMS 73 PER CENT OPERATIONAL.’

Leylana and Klagga spun on their heels, bringing the weapons up in unison at the sound of Zen’s voice.

‘FULL RESTORATION IN 23 MINUTES AND 47 SECONDS.’

Lant was on his feet, staring around himself in amazement.

‘Ah, the famous Zen,’ Travis explained. ‘It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up.

‘STANDING IS NOT REQUIRED.’

‘Avon?’ Lant stood, looking from the dome and then back up to the flight controls.

Avon raised a placating hand. The last thing he needed was for one of these idiots’ trigger fingers to get itchy.

‘There is nothing to concern you. Zen is just our master computer, nothing more.’

‘CORRECTION: THIS SYSTEM IS CAPABLE OF—’

‘Just a turn of phrase, Zen,’ Avon added quickly, not wishing the damned machine to give away too many of their secrets in front of Travis, prisoner or not. ‘No need to take offence.’

‘Ha,’ exclaimed Lant, clapping his hands together. ‘This ship is full of surprises. I am going to like it here.’

‘What I find surprising is that Commander Travis is so familiar with the Liberator’s operating system…’ Avon let the statement hang, knowing the Federation officer would never be able to resist an opportunity to gloat.

An evil smile played over Travis’s bruised features. ‘Don’t be. It’s amazing what information I can glean during an interrogation. Just ask your Auronite friend Cally. If she survives.’ The smile finally reached his eye. ‘Or wait to see yourself…’

Avon chose not to pick up that line of thought and turned his attention to Lant.

‘Lant. You have your freedom, you have your ship.’ He returned his gaze to Travis for a moment, ‘you have your hostage. Start your revolution.’

Lant turned and sat back in the centre of the flight deck, a man with the whole universe at his fingertips.

‘I think you mean resume your revolution, Avon.’ He glanced at Halla, exchanging a look that spoke volumes to Avon. This is what they had been planning for years, the thought that had kept them going even through the long darkest nights of their exile, the goal that had kept them alive. ‘Zen, set course for Federation Space Command. Standard by eight.’