BLAKE'S NOT HERE

by ardavenport


Blake rushes into the perfumed curtain-lined office. Quickly, he empties the waste basket onto the plush purple carpet and fills it up with the contents of the desk's 'IN' basket. Several music tapes with Federation codes recorded backwards into the songs, a three year-old calendar, Gan's left shoe, Vila's set of lock picks, a pair of woman's underwear, a rock, two rolls of string, three guns, a small pillow with 'SERVALAN' written in cheap rhinestones onto its satin surface, half a sandwich, 2 million credits and a very small bomb that didn't work when it was supposed to.

Blake whips out his teleport bracelet and calls Liberator.

Meanwhile, back at the ship, Villa consoles himself with a gift bottle of wine and broods about what a wonderful time Blake is having masquerading as a minor official at a lavish and decadent reception.

The call comes through.

BLAKE: Blake.

Vila, drunk as a skunk at the controls, answers.

VILA: Blake's not here.

BLAKE: No, Vila, I'm Blake; teleport.

VILA: Huh? Blake?

BLAKE: Yes, Blake. Now teleport.

VILA: Who?

BLAKE: Blake!

VILA: Blake's not here.

BLAKE: I'm Blake! Now, teleport.

VILA: What for?

BLAKE: Because any minute Servalan is going to walk through that door expecting to find Governor Ebbins waiting to sign a treaty with the Federation and she's going to be pretty disappointed to find it's only me.

VILA: Oh, I don't think she'll be disappointed to see you.

BLAKE: Well, I'll be disappointed to see her, -

- At this point Avon strolls into the room and stands behind Vila's chair. Vila doesn't notice.

BLAKE: Teleport, NOW!

VILA: Who?

BLAKE: Blake!

VILA: Blake?

BLAKE: Yes, Blake. Now teleport!

VILA: Blake? Blake?

- Vila speaks as if he's trying to remember something. -

BLAKE: Yes! TELEPORT!

VOLA: Blake's not here.

BLAKE: VILA!

AVON: What are you doing?

- Vila is surprised by Avon's voice but is too drunk to do anything more than sort of turn around. -

VILA: Oh, I'm just sitting here if someone wants to teleport up.

AVON: Apparently.

- Avon notes the glass and the mostly empty bottle of wine sitting next to the teleport controls. -

AVON: Apparently you are also too drunk to notice when someone is actually calling you.

BLAKE: Avon, get Vila out of there.

AVON: Certainly.

- Avon wastes no time or courtesy, grabs Vila under the arms, lifts him out of his chair and dumps him on the floor. -

VILA: Ooooooowwwwwwwww! ! !

- Vila rubs his bottom with feeling. -

VILA: Ooowwww. I think you broke something.

AVON: Hardly, the only sort of injury you would need to worry about from a fall like that is minor brain damage.

- Avon takes Vila's place at the controls. -

AVON: Avon here.

BLAKE: Blake. Teleport, Avon.

- Avon pauses, smiles very, very slightly. -

AVON: Blake?

BLAKE: Yes, Blake.

- Avon pauses again. This time he actually does smile. -

AVON: Blake's not here.


*** END ***


Note: This story was published in the print fanzine 'Return of the Seven' in 1985.

Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to Terry Nation(?), the BBC(?), Cheech & Chong(?) or whoever; I'm just playing in their sandbox.