When Elfin Eyes are Smiling (Part 3)

"Holy sh*t," Orac says aloud.

The others join in, and Orac also finds even the minds of the more....mundane Organics rather....formidable in their own fashion.....here in this realm (not that he'd admit to that last part....at least not yet).

Now, to make a long, silent discussion short, a few questions about Vila and airlocks is asked, and a still surprised Orac explained what he did and why he'd done it. It basically conformed to the third possibility that Ragan brought up. Inquirer is quiet relieved in that and Orac....finds himself glad that she's relieved. She was a rather interesting person and all that. Even somebody who was a friend. Orac found himself....reluctant to throw that away...

Dicusssion then turns to how to, well, get Orac away from Avon without a major incident. Avon rather considered Orac his property (much to Orac's annoyance). If it went too badly Blake might call this whole deal with the retirees off.....or the retirees might be so disgusted with Avon's actions that it would queer this operation. Sigin suggested that perhaps Avon, being the greedy person he was, could be persuaded to depart with Orac for a price the dragon mage could pay (the dragon was less that pleased with Avon at this time and thought little of Avon's character). Betty and Orac sighed and pointed out that the one thing that probably couldn't be bought with money....was Orac. Avon was a computer geek at heart, amongst other things, and wouldn't depart with such a....unique and powerful item (Orac delivered the last with a mixture of pride....and consternation). Inquirer, remembering something that one of her brothers had in their collection, would be used in a swap with Avon for Orac. An item of comparable capabilities, but without the personality (or free will) of Orac. She suggested it and all agreed that, mayhaps, this swap could work

"Something that has my capabilties?" Orac says softly, annoyed and somehow hurt "But an antique by today's standards?"

He'd seen Inquirer and Elrondir in "cyberspace" and their capabilities...made Orac leery about wanting to take similar opponents on. It made him feel like an antique, a feeling Orac didn't like at all! Elrondir explained that they'd give this older technology to Avon (who'd still flip over it), because....frankly neither Inquirer and many others in the Doctor's group particularly trusted him with something more powerful.

Not that this business about antiques and distrust was going to be brought up in this haggling session.....

That said....

"Hey, fifty years of unconventional warfare makes one need to adapt and evolve quickly to survive!" Inquirer said softly to Orac, "Hey, it's all software and such.....easy to learn once we get you with my people!"

She went on to (not in those exact words but implied) assure Orac that he wasn't obsolete (something that she'd gathered by Orac's hurt tones), just needed an upgrade in some applications and such. Then...he'd be just as formidable and strong in cyberspace as the next AI like her.

Somehow, that made the egotistical box happier....

"Not all issues will be resolved today," the Doctor sighed, "But like Betty said that my fourth incarnation would have said: 'Mustn't complain. We live in an imperfect universe.'"

"True," Orac agreed.

The Time Lord had VERY much impressed Orac, and as such deserved the machine's respect....

Contact is made with Inquirer's one brother, Alex, and arrangements made.

Sigin approaches Avon and makes the offer. Avon, nearly drooling over the offered item, tries to sweeten the deal, only to feel a blast of.....fear?.....when he sees Sign's eyes actually glow red in anger. Rare to see a dragon give off Dragon Fear in human form, but Avon's a rather trying man.

While not totally paralyzed with fear (it was almost like business as usual in comparison with that business where he shot Blake), Avon finds it more....convenient to accede without much fuss over the exchange. He even got back that bomb he'd planted in Orac.... What a bargain!

That's what Avon keeps telling himself, anyway.....

But he'll remember Sigin's anger, and know that he'd made yet another enemy this day. Sounded reasonable to Ragan and Betty, that outcome. Another *major* case of clashing cultures and different ideas of morality. That and Avon had the bad habit of making enemies rather easily....

That business done, it looked like smooth sailing.....

Blake looks rather glad that this issue was resolved. He'd been about ready to force Avon to let Orac go, but now that was one can of worms he need not open. Yes, Blake found he could extend his views about freedom and human rights to machine intelligences (now that somebody had brought up this issue), but Avon would have been oh so.....difficult afterwards if he'd had to force this issue.

Yes, looked like smooth sailing....

Hah! Something always has to come up!

Here's what happened soon after this exchange....

Inquirer and Orac had gone one to discuss other things when it started.

Yes, this is where the chaotic situation blossomed.

Jarlath, only recently arriving on Terra Prime was still a bit.....off. A lot better than he'd been back on his homeworld where he'd not only been blinded by the fire that destroyed the mage tower he'd been studying magic at, but also driven insane by whatever had increased the magic he could call upon. His eyesight had been restored by the Rules and Agents, and the Dragons who were friends of the family were slowly helping him bring him back to sanity. It was slow going. To fast and it would only make Jarlath worse, not better! Things were going to go much faster when some Doctor Who fan (upon seeing the Wedding Gift that Doctor Who had given Probe and Evis) realized what a blue crystal could do for the still barmy boy mage.

All the same the others had felt him well enough for short social gatherings like this. Company would do him a world of good, really.

That was the idea, anyway.

That is when, having drifted away from the one who'd soon take off the hat of "healer" and don the hat of "magic instructor" with him, he overheard Avon having a confused discussion with Probe.

"Local date versus Home Calender date?" Avon asks annoyed, "What do you mean it is both the late Middle Ages, the early 22nd century, and the 24th century?!"

Probe just looks at Avon for a second, wondering what Avon isn't getting it. He does know about this business about different universes. Apparently it hadn't dawned upon him yet about the possibilities of different rates of passage of time.....or that perhaps certain events used to mark time may have happened later.....or earlier. Some Alliance scientists were still not sure about Terra Prime in that regards. Contradictory indicators made it difficult to tell, see.

"What day is it?" Avon asks, half jokingly, half in exasperation. Typical sneer beginning on his face.

His nerve were still somewhat jangled from Sigin, so hadn't made the mental connection, yet, about this stuff.

The Finder (Jarlath) stopped walking and smiled, and gruffly responded, "For the Zhuloo it is the fourth day of the fifth solar month in the year 1985; for the Geldeans it is the eighth day of the second lunar month in the twentieth year since the reign of Prefect Weiser; for the....

"Wait!" he interrupts himself, blinking, "I already told this to Andrea. Er.....my Andrea? Andrea 2?"

He speaks softly to himself, muttering in confusion about how Andrea had a fox tail....but was also still human. He then mutters about analogs and sighs, looking back at Avon. He smiles.

Avon looks down at Jarlath (the boy mage was on the short side) with a look of utter bewilderment.

"Are you quiet alright?" he asks Jarlath, not knowing what to make of the young man. Avon saw that there was a glint of....something not quiet right with this one.

"Why, that's a good question!" Jarlath nearly shouts, happy to having NOT known that Avon was going to ask that, "A good one, it was.

"Speaking of good, when I was a kid," continued Jarlath, off on a tangent, "I thought Allaria was a wondrous land, yet our ways make not enough room for the magic of the peoples. So I left my home and traveled far, traveled too far perhaps. Then I found the Tower of Ilxior and the ones who would become my brothers. And ohhhh, how good it was! That Tower so slim and high and...small from the outside was truly the grandest of all places within! When I was a kid it became a place where anything could happen, and it did. My brothers had all this stuff, you know, silk robes and tin bells, rolled bread pies and curdled cream liquor, and they had magic! So here I was, with my own silk robe and following the rings of meditation and studying the Grey Way and other paths, and time passed in its queer little fashion and the fire came and I was burned and the Tower fell and then I knew...then I knew. I had discovered that the Tower was just like every other stinking place in the world. We had it all, all of it was there...the good and the bad...somewhere in there.

"Wait....I told that one as well," Jarlath sighs, exasperated with himself, "Why do I keep doing that?"

Before Avon or anyone else can speak, a young red headed girl comes over and gently takes Jarlath away before he can make a further spectacle of himself. She and Jarlath have developed an odd friendship and this child named Astra had the easiest time in calming Jarlath when he was wound up over something.

But childish curiosity overcomes her common sense. She is rather grown up for her age, and usually knows when to ask about something....and when to mind her own business.

This was one of the few times this has happened, and after a rather harsh discussion with her new adopted mothers (both Aninas) she'll never do it again!

"Mister?" she asks innocently, "What weighs 73 kilos? Whats a kilo?"

Her Terra was only familiar with something close to the English (Imperial) measuring system.

"Oh shit," Betty says softly aghast.

The adventurers seem to freeze in sick anticipation, almost. Everyone was too far away to stop this from going wrong.....

The Old Man was right next to Avon, for God's sake! A disaster was surely going to happen here!

Avon's face goes grey, pushed to the breaking point so many times, was NOT handling this one question at all!

Jumping to the wrong conclusion, he turns, wild eyed, at the one man his mind tells him can fix this......freaking mess once and for all!

The recently retired man of the hour (well, the ceremony was over...but there still was the paperwork session to make it official). One man who was called in the Military the Old Man. The one named Vladimir Naberezhnyi.

"Do even the children know about the darkest secrets about me?!" he almost screams, "Do you know what that is LIKE?!"

He makes a visible effort to calm himself. Blake makes a motion for him to stop, but Avon plows on. Quietly, but he plows on.

"Do for me what you did for your precious Queen Astra," he says softly, "Give me back my privacy. Give us all back our secrets."

The room is deathly quiet. A slow anger is building in some.

"F*ck!" Inquirer says softly as she storms over to Avon's place....

Vladimir, ever the chain smoker, draws deeply on the rather vile Russian cigarette he was in the habit of smoking. He had seen men die rather messily. He'd made decisions that had lead to the deaths of young men and women under his command in order to save billions. He'd ran roughshod over others in order to pull things together in the early days of the war with the Enemy (God, the politics he'd had to play with some). Couldn't believe that some of those yahoos still had that Cold War mentality even during those bloody times! He'd ordered and done much over his career. A career that had lasted much longer than he felt should have been. But dare he have put his duty away because he was tired. No. But then, this business wasn't war

A younger, less world weary Vladimir would have lived up to the nickname he'd earned earlier.....Vlad the Impaler. He'd have torn into Avon.

Not now. Now, he was....tired. Tired of this soul destroying business.

Too late by far now, though.

God. The Blue Sky project he'd been in charge of right before the War had predicted that in perhaps a thousand years of traveling between realities could lead to one which would reflect a TV show or such.

But apparently this fabled "Dark Tower" had had different plans for him and the rest of those in this sad affair. It was calling for help, it seemed, and it somehow had bent the rules to bring those who could maybe aid it together. At least, it seemed so to Vladimir, somehow.

This Champions business was proof enough of that.

Hell, he'd even met a Rule earlier on in this War (a bit after the business with him winning Probe's freedom from the Company). Something he'd told nobody....not even the priest of his. Too insane the content of that discussion. A discussion that wouldn't be told of here and now.....maybe not ever.....

Too late for this Avon and this Blake business in this matter. But, perhaps if this man was bright enough.....

He'd had Security lock down the base when he'd heard about what Probe was planning to keep out curious Star Fleeters and such. Probe had contacted him by secure channels. The old AI might be retired but he still had connections. As a civilian Probe could do what he'd planned on doing with Blake, but what those Federation folks didn't know about, they couldn't complain about.

Vladimir, a crusader of sorts himself, understood. Mayhaps one last little thing bit could be done to make this insane task even more likely to succeed?

"Nichievo." Admiral Naberezhnyi sighs.

At least that's what is sounds to Betty and Ragan, but in their minds they know it really is nichego (a Russian word that is pronounced as they heard it but spelled as they see it in their minds). It literally meant "nothing" but it meant either "It can't be helped" or "I have nothing for you." It was a word that was long on resignation.

Basically, it meant that there wasn't much of anything about trying to get the all information related to him classified in the same manner as had been done in with Queen Astra and the like of Terra Prime.

"Do you have any idea how wide spread stuff about a show like Blake's 7 is, Avon?" Inquirer put in before Avon could do something stupid like start yelling at the admiral. "We can cap information leaks before it gets too wide spread with them. But it's way too late for you and Blake's crew."

Avon's and Inquirer's eyes lock for a moment, and then finally Avon seems to wilt a little and sighs. Short of a combined massive effort both electronically throughout the Net (scoring every corner within it and violating civil liberties in the process) and the real world (searching and ceasing every archival relic of the show in question and violating civil liberties in the process)..... That and a miracle..... Nothing less would work.

"I go into retirement now, Avon." the Admiral says softly, tilting his head towards Probe, "Do you understand?"

Inquirer's eyebrows go up about the same time as several other people get the hint. It wasn't very subtle, really. After a second it also percolates through Avon's mind as well.

"That's some consolation prize," Betty mutters as Avon begins to smile as he turns towards Blake.

Before, the Admiral wasn't going to use what influence he had, figuring on retiring to his dacha and right memoirs, maybe.....(when not doing consulting work for the Military while retired). The Old Man figured that Probe and those who'd he'd contacted had connections enough to handle it.

But now?

......

"A retired Military Admiral who had been the head honcho has a Hell of a lot connections," Ragan says softly to herself, nodding.

She and Betty had suspected that Avon wanted to give Blake a special weapon or alliance that the "big bleeding heart" could use to break the Federation.

Something that Avon could crow about.....

Somewhere along the way to this mess Avon began to believe and now believed that these retirees could actually break the Federation it looked like. Blake looked like he believed as well.

"All that and I must give the same type of item that Alex gave you to somebody you already know, in a fashion, to make him like we shall give you some equipment similar to your twin over there in exchange over any argument over....er.....your supposed claim on Orac," the retired Admiral sighs.

"One with comparable capabilities without the backtalk, eh?" he added with a chuckle.

1. Blake's 7 stared to the other side of the room at.....an equally staring Blake's 7?

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