When Travis Met Blake by Alan Stevens & Fiona Moore

This play was originally performed by Brian Croucher and Gareth Thomas before an audience at the "Aftermath" Blake's 7 convention on 6 September 2008

(WE HEAR A DOOR OPEN ON THE RIGHT-HAND SIDE OF THE STEREO FIELD. BLAKE HAS ENTERED THE ROOM)

BLAKE: Where is this place? Where the hell am I?

(WE HEAR A SECOND DOOR OPEN AND CLOSE. TRAVIS ENTERS THE ROOM FROM THE LEFT OF THE STEREO FIELD)

TRAVIS: (SHOUTING) Blake!

(ELECTRONIC CLICKING)

TRAVIS: Damn!

BLAKE: I know you! Don’t I?

TRAVIS: Yes, Blake.

BLAKE: Is there something wrong with your hand?

TRAVIS: The trigger mechanism. (BEAT) It's failed.

BLAKE: A trigger mechanism for what?

TRAVIS: A laseron destroyer.

BLAKE: A weapon?

TRAVIS: You could say that, yes.

BLAKE: You were aiming it at me!

TRAVIS: Was I? I'm so sorry, Blake. It must be due to my lack of (SHOUTS) depth perception. (MORE ELECTRONIC CLICKING) Damn!

BLAKE: We've met before, haven't we?

TRAVIS: We have. (BEAT) I am…

BLAKE: (INTERRUPTING) No, don’t tell me. (BEAT) The eyepatch seems familiar.

TRAVIS: Does it?

BLAKE: And the artifical hand.

TRAVIS: it's the whole arm.

BLAKE: Oh, dear!

TRAVIS: Gangrene.

BLAKE: Nasty.

TRAVIS: I thought so.

BLAKE: (BEAT) You’re…. (BEAT) you’re…. (GETTING IT) Trevor! Am I right?

(BEAT)

TRAVIS: No, Blake, I’m not Trevor. Would you like another guess?

(BEAT)

BLAKE: You couldn’t give me a clue, could you?

TRAVIS: (HEAVY SIGH) Eyepatch. (BEAT) Artificial arm. Sworn enemy. What else can I say?

BLAKE: All right. (BEAT) I’ve almost got it, give me a second… (BEAT) No, lost it again…

TRAVIS: (SHOUTING)I am Travis!

BLAKE: (HAPPILY) Yes, Travis! That’s it! (BEAT, REALISING) Travis. And we don’t get on, do we?

TRAVIS: You catch on quick.

BLAKE: So what happened? What is it between us?

TRAVIS: (WARMING TO HIS THEME) Well, for a start, Blake, you seriously injured me…

BLAKE: (INTERRUPTING) Hence the eye and the arm.

TRAVIS: Yes, it’s coming back now, isn’t it?

BLAKE: Sort of.(SUDDENLY) The Freedom Party. There was a meeting… (BEAT) and you turned up… (BEAT) and you tried to arrest me!

TRAVIS: And…?

BLAKE: And… (BEAT) I…. (BEAT) picked a gun up and shot you with it.

TRAVIS: Yeah. You did. (BEAT) How does that make you feel?

BLAKE: Ah, you were… (BEAT) the enemy, and… (CHANGING TACK) look, if it’s any consolation, Travis, I thought I'd killed you. It wasn’t as if I wanted you to suffer or anything.

TRAVIS: That’s very considerate of you, Blake. I’m glad to see that my predicament was of some small concern.

(BEAT)

BLAKE: I wouldn’t go that far. But you’d have done the same to me.

TRAVIS: I was trying to arrest you.

BLAKE: Alright, but you’re a soldier. You expect to be shot at sometimes. You’re paid to risk your life and…ah…limb. In this case, you got injured. But look at you. You’re still wearing a Federation uniform. Smart!

TRAVIS: You don’t recall what happened next?

BLAKE: It all seems a bit cloudy for some reason.

TRAVIS: The Liberator? Star One?

BLAKE: Ah! Yes. Star One. Hmm. (BEAT) I shot you again, didn’t I?

TRAVIS: You shot me again. (LOUDER) In. The. Back. Blake.

BLAKE: But I didn’t kill you.

TRAVIS: You shot me in the back. What kind of hero are you supposed to be?

BLAKE: Look, Travis—

TRAVIS: (INTERRUPTING) You’re a back-shooter, Blake.

BLAKE: Hold on a minute. It’s Let me think. (BEAT) You had sold out the human race! You were deactivating the antimatter minefield. You were letting in a huge alien fleet to eradicate humanity.

TRAVIS: Your point being?

BLAKE: (BEAT) My point? (BEAT) Actually, you shot me first.

TRAVIS: No, you shot me first, Blake.

BLAKE: On Star One. You shot me first.

TRAVIS: Of course I shot you. You were pretending to be me.

BLAKE: (BEAT, UNBELIEVING) what?!

TRAVIS: (IRRITATED) Just forget it. I’m not interested in carrying on this conversation.

BLAKE: (STILL FIGURING IT OUT) You shot me because you thought I was you? Sounds like a death wish.

TRAVIS: That’s the problem with you, Blake, you’re a bloody politician. You twist everything around to suit yourself. First you go zooming around the galaxy in the Liberator telling everyone how you’re going to destroy the Federation, but when I actually come close to doing precisely that, you suddenly turn up and shoot me in the back.

BLAKE: You were going to kill everyone. You were going to wipe out the human race!

TRAVIS: And…?

BLAKE: What do you mean "and"?

TRAVIS: You just don’t get it, do you? I was a boy soldier. I’d been in the service all my life. And they betrayed me. They sold me out. You can’t reform hypocrites and traitors…(BEAT) you’ve got to…(BEAT) you’ve got to…

BLAKE: Kill them? Kill everyone?

TRAVIS: What did you do, Blake, with your folk-hero status and your band of jolly followers? And who were they anyway? A psychopath, a kleptomaniac. You had a smuggler, there was that terrorist, and then Gan, Olag Gan the bloody Cat Strangler.

BLAKE: They were good people. (BEAT) Well, perhaps Gan was a bit dodgy, but, (DETERMINED) I would trust them all with my life. And we were fighting for justice.

TRAVIS: Did you ever get any? And justice for who? You and your band of galactic yobbos killed thousands of people. Anyone who got in your way was obliterated.

BLAKE: We only attacked military installations.

TRAVIS: Star One wasn’t—

BLAKE (INTERRUPTING) Or installations of strategic importance.

TRAVIS: That covers a multitude of sins.

BLAKE: Don’t take the moral high ground with me, Travis. You've massacred thousands and tried to destroy the whole human race; yourself included.

TRAVIS: Yes, I did, didn’t I? And now I’m here. Think about that.

BLAKE: (CONFUSED AGAIN) There’s a lot I’d like to consider, if only my head would clear… (BEAT) Hang on a second. You were killed, weren’t you?

TRAVIS: Was I? Where? When?

BLAKE: On Star One. I shot you... er, in the back, and then Avon shot you—

TRAVIS: (INTERRUPTING) –yeah, in the front—

BLAKE: And that makes him honest?

TRAVIS: At least he wasn’t a back-shooter.

BLAKE: Actually…

TRAVIS: (INTERRUPTING) … he was. But he didn’t shoot me in the back.

BLAKE: And that makes a difference?

TRAVIS: To me? Yes, it does.

BLAKE: All right. You were shot twice, but it didn't kill you.

TRAVIS: What are you saying?

BLAKE: We knew you were still alive because we kind of… (BEAT) heard… (THINKS BETTER OF IT) doesn’t matter.

TRAVIS: No, what? What did you "kind of hear"?

BLAKE: You screaming, as you fell into the nuclear reactor.

TRAVIS: And that’s supposed to make me feel better, is it?

BLAKE: Yes. No. I don’t know. Look, I have no idea why we’re having this conversation.

TRAVIS: I thought you were trying to recover your memory?

(BEAT)

BLAKE: Travis... You died on Star One.

TRAVIS: But I’m here.

BLAKE: You were shot twice, you fell hundreds of feet into the core of a nuclear reactor. And a little bit later, the entire planet blew up. (INCREDULOUS) How did you survive that?

TRAVIS: (DISMISSIVE) Details.

BLAKE: That’s not an answer.

TRAVIS: (MEASURED) You should be less concerned with why I’m here, than why you are, Blake.

BLAKE: (REACHING) Well, that’s obvious… (BEAT) you’ve kidnapped me… (BEAT) I've been injected me with a mind-altering substance… (BEAT) and now you’re trying to play a psychological game to take over the Liberator, or something?

TRAVIS: Blake, (LOUDLY AND CLEARLY) I’m dead.

(BEAT)

BLAKE: (PUZZLED) Yes, you are, aren’t you? So, the question is…

TRAVIS: (INTERRUPTING, LOUDLY) So the question is, how the bloody hell could I have done all of that while… (EMPHASISING THE WORD) dead?

(BEAT)

BLAKE: You’re a clone.

TRAVIS: No, Blake, I’m not a clone.

BLAKE: There was a clone made of me, once.

TRAVIS: Two, actually.

BLAKE: What happened to the other one?

TRAVIS: I shot it.

(BEAT. AWKWARD PAUSE)

BLAKE: But still, that just proves my point.

TRAVIS: (SIGHS) Why would I have a clone made of myself with an eyepatch and an artificial arm?

BLAKE: Perhaps you like having an artificial arm and an eyepatch?

TRAVIS: I chase you halfway around the galaxy to get revenge for the injuries you caused me… and then I have a clone made of myself with those self-same injuries?

BLAKE: (DOUBTFUL) It’s possible. Your real self was psychologically scarred, and you wanted to ensure that your new self carried on the vendetta against me.

TRAVIS: I’m not a clone.

BLAKE: But are you sure? You could be under some form of mental conditioning.

TRAVIS: (INCREDULOUS) I don’t believe this.

BLAKE: But then, perhaps you should believe it. Listen, Trevor--

TRAVIS: (INTERRUPTING, THROUGH GRITTED TEETH) Travis!

BLAKE: Listen, Travis You—don’t—have—to—do—this—any—more. You—are—your—own—man. We—can—be—friends.

TRAVIS: (IMITATING HIM)Is—that—right—Blake?

BLAKE: Yes—it… you actually are the real Travis, aren’t you?

TRAVIS: Yes. I am Travis.

BLAKE: Now, that presents something of a problem for me, because, as we both know, you’re…

TRAVIS: Dead?

(BEAT)

BLAKE: Ah... You’re a robot? No, forget that.

TRAVIS: What happened after Star One?

BLAKE: Uh. There was the aftermath, of course.

TRAVIS: Aftermath, yes. And then what?

BLAKE: Hmm. Those were my wilderness years, to be honest.

TRAVIS: What’s the last thing you remember?

BLAKE: The last thing… (BEAT) Hmm, I remember thinking, that ceiling needs painting.

TRAVIS: So, you were looking up?

BLAKE: Yes, I must have been.

TRAVIS: Now why do you think you’d be looking up at a ceiling? You'd dedicated most of your life to establishing yourself as the opponent of an admittedly brutal totalitarian regime. Why would you be looking up at paintwork?

BLAKE: Do you know, a lot of people think I was an engineer before I established the Freedom Party. But I wasn’t. In fact, I was a painter and decorator.

TRAVIS: You gave up politics and went back to painting and decorating? Is that what you’re saying?

BLAKE: No, that would be ridiculous.

TRAVIS: And yet, you’re looking up. At paintwork.

BLAKE: That’s what I recollect.

TRAVIS: Again, why are you looking up at paintwork if you did not return to your old trade?

BLAKE: Umm… Maybe I was lying down.

TRAVIS: So why would someone lie down and stare up at the ceiling…

BLAKE: (INTERRUPTING) I died in bed. (REALISING) I died?

(BEAT)

TRAVIS: No, Blake, you didn’t die.

BLAKE: Well, thank you, Travis, that’s one hell of a relief….

TRAVIS: (INTERRUPTING) Not in your sleep, that is.

(BEAT)

BLAKE: I died? (BEAT, REALISING) I’m dead. (BEAT, MORE REALISATION) Like you.

TRAVIS: No, not like me, Blake, you’re nothing like me. Despite that recently acquired facial scar.

BLAKE: I can’t be dead. I’m Blake. I have plans.

TRAVIS: Not anymore.

BLAKE: But this can’t be how it ended.

TRAVIS: Why not? What makes you special?

BLAKE: I’m Blake.

TRAVIS: Yes, and I’m Travis, and we’re both dead. Get over it.

BLAKE: Dead. How did I die?

TRAVIS: The same way I did.

BLAKE: You were shot. (BEAT) I was shot?

TRAVIS: Yeah. You were shot…. (BEAT) By a member of your own crew.

BLAKE: Avon.

TRAVIS: Yeah. So much for trusting them all with your life.

(BEAT)

BLAKE: No. Avon would never do that.

TRAVIS: He shot you three times.

(BEAT)

BLAKE: Avon was my right-hand man.

TRAVIS: You were unarmed.

BLAKE: He had his issues, yes, but… (SHOUTING) The bastard! He did, didn’t he?

TRAVIS: Yep.

BLAKE: That’s shocking.

TRAVIS: Okay, Blake, we’ve now established you’re dead, and I’m dead, and Avon killed us both. So, what does that tell us?

BLAKE: We’re both dead.

TRAVIS (SARCASTICALLY) Good. We’re both dead.

(BEAT)

BLAKE: Well, I expected more than this.

TRAVIS: (SARCASTICALLY) Did you?

BLAKE: Yes. I mean, two chairs that look like they come from a hotel foyer, carpet that… needs a bit of cleaning, to be honest… four blank walls painted in a revolting pastel lilac.

TRAVIS: What did you expect?

BLAKE: Oh, I don’t know. I was never what you'd call a religious man. Didn’t have a chance, really, after the churches were destroyed by the Federation. They really don’t appreciate competition. (BEAT) But if there is an afterlife, and that’s where we are, then I’d expected something more than four badly painted walls, two chairs, and a stained carpet. And don’t take this the wrong way, Travis, but (SUCKS AIR IN THROUGH TEETH), might you be, um… (BEAT) in the wrong place?

TRAVIS: In what way, "the wrong place"?

BLAKE: Again, don’t take this personally, but you didn’t exactly lead what I’d call a good life, did you? What anyone would call a good life, come to that. So… why would you be here?

TRAVIS: And where exactly do you think "here" is?

BLAKE: Well, heaven of course.

TRAVIS: (LAUGHS) And what makes you believe we are in heaven?

(BEAT)

BLAKE: Oh.

TRAVIS: Yes.

BLAKE: But… (BEAT) shouldn’t it be worse?

TRAVIS: Worse?

BLAKE: Worse than this, I mean.

TRAVIS: You tell me, Blake. What could be worse… (BEAT) than you and me… (BEAT) together, in this room… for all of eternity?

END