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Review by Julia Jones.
Review by Anon:
"Nemesis" is a single story genzine by Carol Wyke which is just about the
best genzine account of Vila after Malodaar that I have ever read. The
opening six pages in themselves would make an excellent short story, but
there's much, much more. Without giving the plot away, the story centres on
Vila's earlier and continuing bond with Avon, and vice versa, and takes
place after Gauda Prime as Vila tries to locate his whereabouts. Soolin and
Servalan also have a part to play.
Some of it is intensely bleak, though not without dry humour - Vila travels under the pseudonym Deeta Travis because it's easy to remember - and some of it ultimately hopeful. This is a hurt/comfort story par excellence, not overly sentimental but full of anguish. No fan of Vila and Avon should miss it. The central scene is extraordinarily powerful; if you want to know why, buy the zine, preferably tomorrow.
Review by Julia Jones.
Review by Julia Jones.
Review by Julia Jones.
Avon turned on Blake then with a fury born of grief and dispair. "Others I can TRUST! ... And just who do you suppose that might be, Blake! Once I've murdered the beloved leader of the resistance, and put an even bigger price on my head by betraying the Federation as well, I don't suppose I'll be a very popular fellow, will I! There won't be a soul left in the galaxy that doesn't have some reason to waant me dead! Let alone trust..."
Blake, after considering my alternatives, I have decided to leave the Liberator. I have no interest in your 'cause', or in being killed fot it. I have taken what I consider my share from the strong room, but no more than that. You siad that I was free to go and I hope you will accept my decisssion and not attempt to follow me. I...Iwish you well." The message ended.
Approx 60 pages.
Servalan regarded the man over her steepled fingers and momentarily caressed him with her eyes before they hardened into an unforgiving stare, "Remember, Carnell, you work for me. Not the Federation or the President. Blake and the Liberator are mine. If I thought for one moment you..." She left the sentence hanging in mid air between them. Apparently unfazed by the implied threat, Carnell smiled lazily, "We understand one another perfectly, Supreme Commander."
The voice spoke again, "What luck, Avon falling onto our little planet like you did." "Blake!" Wrinkled, bearded, with a drastic slap of silverhai, surely it was him! "Blake?"
Review by Joyce Bowen.
Another great story from Gillian. This one features Avon plus the Scorpio crew... Blake and Carnall. 84 Pages.
Avon, Tarrant and Dayna arrive on the planet Hyperaeon only to find that a Sorceress has placed a spell on the inhabitants. Avon is challenged by the Sorceress to a ggame of chess with a difference... using real people. And losing will mean certain death.
"Put it this way, Avalon. At least one of us is going to die anyway. It may as well not be all of us." So saying, he shot away suddenly as fast as he could run.
"Avon!" called Cally desperately, trying to go after him, but Blake pulled her back.
"Sorry, Cally," he said, the pain on his face clear to see. "You're doing no more and no less than I want to do, but I can't let you do it. Avon's right. There's no sense in risking more than one of us."
"But they'll kill him," wailed Cally, in a whisper, "They'll just cut him down."
"Then at least let's see to it that he doesn't sacrifrice himself for nothing. We owe it to him to get to safety. That's why he did what he did."
Jenna was shaken. "He's a brave man. I underestimated him. I wish I could tell him I'm sorry."
He'll know," replied Cally, tears already starting to form in her eyes. "He notices a lot more than you think. He should have been a telepath." And from the privacy of her own head, unheard by the others, she broadcast a last desperate farewell to him, perhaps the closest non-telepathic friend she ever had in her life.
"He is a brave man," said Avalaon agreeing with Jenna. "If it's any consolation, he's also a very fast runner. There's just the faintest chance that if he's got enough start on those horsemen, he can make it to the canyon. They'll have to dismount if they want to try to follow him, and they may well not bother. After all, they'll see from his clothes he's not a barbarian."
"How much chance would you say he's got?" asked Blake grimly.
Avalon looked away maybe one in a thousand," she replied. "If that".
"Tarrant." Avon spoke in a deceptively gentle voice knowing what he was about to say would shatter the younger man's dreams. "Tarrant."
Tarrant blinked and came to life. Standing up, he stretched and then retook his seat scanning the instruments in front of him as he did so. "Almost there," he remarked with satisfaction, "Slave might as well handle the landing. It's only routine."
"I want you to stay on board this time," said Avon wasting no time in dropping his first bombshell.
"What did you say?" queried Tarrant, looking with surprise at Avon.
"You heard what I said. You're to stay on board Scorpio."
Tarrant's face reddened with anger, "I don't take orders from you, Avon. I'm not staying on Scorpio."
"I wonder if she likes you as much as she liked Dorian," mused Avon almost to himself.
"It was foolish," Carnell said. "But when did you ever think of strategy, Servalan, when your emotions were in control? However, we are not here to discuss Auron." He looked past Servalan now to Brin, and said, "Your time has come, my friend." The gun had been hanging slackly in Brin's hand. Now he raised it and aimed at Avon. "He is a sure marksman," Carnell said to Avon. "And at this distance, who could miss anyway?" His voice was no longer suave. It was cold and hard and utterly ruthless. Vila shivered. He understood now how this man could work with Servalan, or anyone like her, and survive. "You have a reputation for missing targets," Carnell continued to Avon. "Will you take the risk? If you shoot at me, Brin will kill you without fail - I guarantee it."
"You mean you know where we are, and when?" Blake felt an irrational resentment; someday he'd come upon another subject, besides neuro-surgery, that Avon knew absolutely nothing about!
"We're somewhere in England, not too close to the Welsh border, around the mid-12th Century."
"Yes, I had worked that out too." It came out more acerbic than Blake intended.
Avon produced a brief smile. "Not that this is of much use to us. Regrettably my knowledge does not stretch to information about this murder case."
Blake was for a moment distracted. "It would be interesting to see whether a source mentioning it actually exists."
"It must," Avon said. "How else could Orac have known about it?"
Blake gave Avon a hard stare: "You mean that Orac brought us here deliberately to solve this crime?"
"It is the only assumption that makes sense. That machine appears to have a disconcerting appetite for initiating experiments." Avon's cold gaze came to rest on Blake. "And you obligingly made us walk into its trap."
As Blake came onto the flight deck, Avon looked up from his work. "If it's not our glorious leader," he said sarcastically.
"Avon," said Blake severely. "Have you seen Vila?" Avon glanced at Blake who was standing next to him with his hands on his hips. He returned his attention to the screen in front of him and carefully punched some keys before replying. Blake waited impatiently.
"He's been hanging around here most of the afternoon. Teaching Orac games. Why?" Avon continued to study the screen while he spoke.
"Has he been drinking?"
"No."
"Are you sure?" Blake leaned towards Avon and rested his hand on the console. Avon ignored this invasion of his space, keeping his eyes on the screen.
"Yes." "Definitely?" "I've already told you." Avon glanced sharply at Blake, then quickly looked away again.
"Are you sure he hasn't been drinking?" "He's sleight of hand, but he's not that good." Avon directed this observation more to his console than to Blake.
"Positive?" Blake leaned even closer to Avon forcing a reaction. "Yes." Avon was beginning to lose his patience. He jabbed at the controls angrily before turning to face Blake, only inches away. "If you don't like the answer, say so. Repeating the question won't change it." Avon looked away again. "What is the matter?" "Vila has collapsed again," stated Blake he stepped back a little and stood with his hands on his hips watching Avon's response.
Avon looked up. "He isn't drunk," he stated.
'Avon sat back in the flight seat, his booted feet resting on the edge of the console, watching, as the planet grew larger on the screen. He could not remember the last time he had slept and his eyes felt heavy. The call sign had already come, via the key, and the computer had locked on to the signal. Autonav was set and all he had to do was wait for the landing.
The last time he had been here had been the end of everything he knew. The most recent information he had found indicated that it was a slightly more civilised place than before. The mercenaries and bounty hunters had left and the new administration had opened the planet to trade. That did not stop the chill of dread he felt.
Somewhere in his core he could hear the warning sirens and see the destruction of the Scorpio. The last frantic sprint for the teleport, the look in Tarrant's eyes as he had volunteered to stay. The smell of burning. He opened his eyes, confused, remembered where he was and glanced at the burned out console. The smell had gone, just a memory. "The ship will be landing in 15 minutes," intoned the computer. Avon gritted his teeth, "This had better be worth it Servalan."'
With the Liberator crew in need of rest and relaxation, Vila finds the perfect place to unwind!
Vila raised his voice: "Zen, show us the Outer Helvetia Leisure Centre brochure."
+Confirmed. Please look at the main screen+ the computer replied.
All eyes turned to the screen. It showed a blue and green planet.
+Outer Helvetia+ a glib voice said. +An independent world in the Bellamor System in the Seventh Sector, discovered in the twenty-fourth century of the Old Calendar. Colonised soon after. Outer Helvetia has maintained a policy of strict neutrality throughout the centuries. Thus it has developed into the major valuta market of the Free Worlds+
"Which means," Vila said, "that they accept any currency and ask no questions."
+The X-tra Leisure Centre+ the voice continued, +offers a wide variety of facilities. And for those in search of something different, we offer the ultimate amusement: the game of Mystery Pursuit. Have you ever been fascinated by a riddle of the past, an historic mystery you long to solve? Here is your chance! We offer you the opportunity to study any case you want. Our Reference Library - the largest in the galaxy - holds all the available information on every historical event. Our special facilities will enable you to solve the mystery of your choice. If you doubt our ability to deliver, know that we are prepared to offer your money back if you are not fully satisfied.+
This zine is out of print.
Thanks to Judith Seaman's sterling work delving into theatre archives, we have compiled a booklet of Paul's and Janet's work that must cover just about every acting part they've played... or, at least, all that can be found! Many have asked for such a booklet, so here it is. We thought it would be a good idea to use the professionally printed cover that we had for an earlier newsletter.. No 34. (Well, no sense in wasting them!) And some rather nice shiny paper that's been sitting in a bedroom cupboard awaiting just such an occasion!
Avon 1, 2, 10, 11, 13, 16, 17, and 20.
Avon Special (I highly recommend this. A wonderful 20th anniversary zine that Avon Club put out in 1998. I was most impressed.)
Standard by Seven: The Early Years (reprint zines) 1, 2, 3 and 5.
The 2003 Avon: The Paul Darrow Society Calendar is now available and selling
fast. Amateur it may be, but obviously very popular. Jump in now and order
one, before it's too late!
Each tape is approximately 2 1/2 hours (PAL format only). Profits to - Denville Hall