Softly Comes The End by Maddog Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours? Gordon Lightfoot The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald "Why do I have to go?" questioned Vila, his voice rising in pitch, perilously close to a whine. He put down the carryall and tool box he had been carrying. They were getting rather heavy. He was standing in one of the Liberator's many holds, this one contained a medium sized shuttle, good for a few days flight inter-system. "Because there's a chance that Avon might need your particular talents." replied Blake, his patience near breaking. He knew that it wouldn't do any good to yell at the thief. While it might quiet him momentarily the wounded looks would last for hours, making him feel guilty. Then again, Avon would have to deal with them, not him. Truth to tell he didn't like sending Vila or Avon on this mission, though a few days without Avon might be a welcome relief from the computer technician's snide comments. The rebel alliance of the planet Chemtek had requested assistance in gaining access to a small Federation base located on their planet. The base itself was nothing important, a simple tracking station, but it was due to have a shipment of very important memory storage tanks from one of the outer research stations. It was rumored, just a rumor though, that the memory storage tanks contained information on the Federation's latest star drive advances. The backup memory was kept offsite for safety and utilized no tarriel cells, hence Orac was of no use to them. Despite that computer's prodigious talents and other sources, they could neither confirm nor deny the rumor of the memory tanks. The Liberator was currently on its way to another rendezvous, a pressing matter involving helping a rebel fighting group against the Federation in a formerly neutral star system. The Liberator's presence would give the group a chance of winning against the superior Federation forces. The group had no large warships and were using hit and run tactics against much larger, and better armed ships. Thus Blake's dilemma: how to be in two places at once. He'd decided to split up his crew's efforts, sending Avon and Vila to solve one problem and leaving the rest of the crew in position for a fight. It should work perfectly. "I still don't think it's a good idea, Blake." Vila's voice cut through the rebel leader's train of thoughts. "I mean, what happens if you're delayed? We could be stuck on Chemtek with the Federation breathing down our necks." "I understand your concerns Vila, but the resistance on Chemtek have already made arrangements for getting the storage cells off planet. The Federation will be chasing them, not you." "Then why do we have to go at all?" A new voice joined the conversation, a voice filled with sweet reason on the surface and dark sarcasm running deeply beneath it. "Because, Avon, they don't have anyone good enough to break into the installation and break the computer locks on the storage cells. We've been all through this before." Blake's voice began showing the testiness that he felt. "I know, I simply wanted to hear it again." The dark haired computer tech set down the bag he had been carrying. "I wanted to make sure there was a good reason to subject me to two days in close proximity to unending Delta conversation." "You're no bundle of joy yourself." Vila retorted. Not waiting to hear the rest of the argument, Blake shook his head, grabbed some of the baggage and headed toward the shuttle. It took several minutes to load the gear and to run through one last pre-flight check. Then they were gone. Blake sighed to himself and wondered vaguely why he had bothered getting up this morning. ***** Day One A Game Piece Moves and the Sport Becomes Grim "Knight takes pawn." Avon moved the game piece on the chess set that Vila and he had perched precariously between them. They'd been traveling for several hours and were firmly on course for Chemtek. After engaging the automatic piloting system, the two Liberator crew members decided to play a bit of chess. Vila maneuvered another piece on the board. If everything went according to plan, he should be able to place Avon in check in another two moves. The thief straightened up slightly in his padded seat. The shuttle was slightly cramped and even though the chair was comfortable he felt slightly closed in and restricted. It would take two days to reach their destination and any distraction was welcome. He smiled to himself, glad that he had had the forethought to pack several board games and decks of cards. Avon, he thought to himself, might protest that he preferred reading computer manuals and fiddling with circuitry but he could nearly always be enticed into a game of skill or chance. There were.... The warning claxon cut through the enclosed space of the ship, bouncing off the walls, increasing the level of sound and greatly accelerating the adrenalin output of the ship's two occupants. But there was nothing that they could do to stop the damage, nothing that the excess energy could prevent. The ion storm cut through the ship's systems producing a high energy flux, wiping out the drive system. There was nothing they could do. Day Two Split the Deck in Half and See Where the Cards Fall "Well?" Vila asked, folding his arms across his chest, burrowing slightly into the co- pilot's chair. He absently began to play with a pack of cards on the console. "Well, nothing. There is no way to repair the drive system. We simply do not have the spare parts." Avon carefully replaced the circuitry that he had been testing. "So we're stuck out here?" "Yes." Avon replied, sitting down across from Vila. There was no emotion in his voice. "Until Blake comes and gets us, right?" Vila prompted the other man. "Right?" "It should have taken us two days for us to reach the planet, two days for the job and two days to get back. Blake won't start looking for us for a week, that is assuming that he is finished aiding the resistance fighters by then." "So we wait." "Yes." Vila started shuffling the cards without thought. Day Three A Delta Prattle A Day, Keeps the Madness Away "Now put the card into the center of the deck. That's right." Vila shuffled the deck, and neatly split it in half with one hand. "Now pick the top card." Avon did as he was bid and lifted the top card, it was the very one he had drawn not twenty seconds ago. He frowned, he'd seen the trick done five times in as many minutes and he still had not divined the method Vila was using. "Do you see the switch yet?" Vila leaned back and smiled broadly. "Not yet." "For an Alpha you're not very quick, are you?" "Shut up and do it again." "I may be doing this all day." Vila shuffled the cards. "We have no place else to go." Avon's reply came as he fixed his eyes on Vila's hands as he shuffled the cards. Day Four Avon discovers the trick and sends out a shout "Hold the red wire away from the others." Avon instructed his sole crewmate. "Got it." Vila's quick fingers maneuvered the wires as carefully as if it were a locking system protecting valuable jewels. In a sense it was. Avon had managed to construct a homing beacon that he hoped would lead Blake directly to them instead of the Liberator having to go to Chemtek to learn that they had never arrived. Vila wished he could cross his fingers as the computer technician activated the device but he was still holding the wires apart. Day Five Memories of yesterday keep today far away "She had the most gorgeous bum I have ever seen on any woman. Perfectly shaped, firm." Vila used his hands to demonstrate the subject he was avidly discussing with Avon. "I suppose, in your limited experience, that may be true." Avon replied, keeping his face as expressionless as if he were discussing the latest method of data storage. "Limited experience? Limited experience?" Vila's voice rose higher. "I'll have you know that I've made a life time's study of women." "That would explain your general lack of knowledge about any other subject." "Avon, I've always said if you're going to do something. You should do it well." Vila smiled and tried not to look at the slow movement of the chronometer. Day Six Second verse same as first "Bonk-thud." went Vila's head on the ceiling of the cabinet he currently had it jammed into. "Yowch," he whispered. He would have liked to have yelled loudly but he was afraid to joggle even the slightest the wires he was trying to splice together. Avon had worked for hours on the system and his hands would no longer hold steady. The air recycling system had suddenly started smoking ominously hours ago. They'd been working on the repairs ever since, but there was no spare parts, little to work with and no place to go in the middle of space. Day Seven Some questions are best left unanswered "How long, Avon?" Vila asked, trying hard to maintain the tenacious calm he held himself in. "I don't know precisely, three days, four days. There are too many variables, rate of air consumption, the recycling system still functions partially." "Oh," The Delta gently leaned back in his chair. "But Blake will be here soon, right?" "Would you like a game of chess? You can have white." Avon offered as he retrieved the chess set. Day Eight Minutes into hours "Vila, would you like something to drink? I'm getting myself some fruit juice," Avon stood up and stretched slightly. He'd been sitting for hours, watching the shuttle's limited long range sensors. Vila didn't reply and simply stared at the chronometer, which was now moving slowly nough to make a minute seem like an hour. Day Nine Silence is loudest sound of all Avon stood up slowly, trying to avoid the dizziness that came so frequently now. He checked the beacon to make sure it was functioning then sat down again. When he began watching the sensors again, he turned his face briefly to Vila's. The thief hadn't spoken all day, not even to the computer technician's overtures of food and drink. The silence was oppressive. Day Ten The truth of the matter is often stranger then you'd think "Vila, as much as I dislike your incessant prattle, you are even more irritating being quiet." "What would you like me to say?" the thief replied, calmly, oh, so calmly. "I honestly don't know. How about showing me that card trick again, I still haven't caught on." Avon hoped to pique Vila's interest in something. "You're a strange one, you know that Avon?" Vila cocked his head to one side and studied the Alpha with half-lidded eyes. "So I've been told." Avon smiled in a knowing way. "Not that way, your arrogance is hardly original you know." Vila responded, anger starting to enter into his voice. "What is original is how you're acting now. I've always wanted a soft end Avon, no fear, no pain, just soft and gentle. And most of all, quickly." "I don't know anyone that wants a long, painful, death Vila." Avon said carelessly. "No, but you never cared, one way or the other, did you?" the thief replied, the anger in his voice rising. "Too cold for that, it just didn't matter to you." Vila voice rose into hysteria. "But that was just pretend wasn't it? Who's the hopeful one now, Avon?" he yelled, his body shaking. "You were the one who always thought that there would be a better tomorrow, Vila, you survive." Avon kept his voice as level as possible, afraid of what he had begun. "That's not hope, that's fear. Fear'll keep you going long after hope." Vila shouted. Drained, he settled back into his seat. "Fear," he explained, "that will keep you moving, thinking that tomorrow will be better, for if tomorrow isn't better the fear will come and gobble you up inside. It's far more efficient then hope, Avon." He whispered savagely, "You're a strange one, Avon." Day Eleven Softly comes the end Time like hope often moves slowly and comes in its own way. Day Twelve Liberation "Avon, come on, Avon, wake up." Blake gently slapped the computer technician's face. The Liberator had picked up the homing beacon hours ago and they'd arrived at the smaller ship to find both men passed out. Avon's consciousness resurfaced slowly. He became aware of Blake and Cally, bent anxiously over Vila. "Is he all right?" "He's fine and so are you, mild oxygen deprivation, that's all. It's fortunate that we found you when we did." "We weren't worried, after all aren't you a some kind of miracle worker?" Avon tried to smile sardonically, but only managed a weak grin. Vila was sitting up with Cally's help and glanced over at him. Avon added, "And, after all, we're survivors." "Of course, we were always hopeful." Vila responded as he got tiredly to his feet and was led off toward the medical area.