Blake's 7 Matrix Data Bank

The latest issue of DWM made me laugh a lot. In particular the Matrix Data Bank run by Sorvad (it's an anagram, dudes) who often transcribes conversations between fictional characters to answer straightforward questions (and for DT's first season, every single episode needed plot holes to be fixed). There's been the First Doctor, Ian and Barbara; Second Doctor and Jamie; Third Doctor, Jo and the Master; the first three Doctors; the Fourth Doctor, Romana II and K9 (who wonderfully refused to stick to the script and only answer questions that hadn't been asked); the Fifth Doctor, Nyssa and Tegan; The Sixth Doctor, Mel, the Master, the Valeyard and the Inquisitor; the Seventh Doctor and Ace... not to mention some surprising choices like Klieg, Kaftan and Toberman; Lazarus, Dalek Caan and the sentient sun; and now Blake's 7.

So, I transcribe it for my own amusement.... (c) DWM


IN THE THIRD CENTURY OF THE SECOND CALENDAR, IT'S THE
MATRIX DATA BANK ON TOUR!
This month with Servalan, Cockney Travis and Avon from Blake's 7
Blink's Heaven, Rocky Landings & No Pain, No Gain

TRAVIS: You summoned me here, Supreme Commander?

SERVALAN: Oh yes, Travis. I summoned you. And like a faithful dog, you obeyed.

TRAVIS: You've always been treacherous, Servalan. Why should I trust you now?

SERVALAN: Oh, Travis. Fortunately, it's not a matter of trust.

TRAVIS: Then why have you brought me here?

SERVALAN: These questions, Travis - they came in over an encrypted a-line transponder frequency. They are questions to which the Federation must have answers. And they must be answered. And answered, now.

TRAVIS: Why ask me? You have experts here, Servalan - mutoids and computers... consult THEM!

SERVALAN: Oh, I have, Travis. And unfortunately they were less than forthcoming in their suggested replies. I had them exiled to the frontier worlds. So I would be careful - VERY careful, in fact - that it doesn't happen to you. Shall I read the first question?

TRAVIS: Do I have a choice, Supreme Commander?

SERVALAN: Oh, Travis. Of course not. Oh, Travis, the first question comes from LAUEN CARRINGTON via triple-hyperlink e-mail. This astute young woman asks, "In Blink, the Doctor says that the Weeping Angels will attack if you, er, blink. So to avoid their power, why doesn't it occur to the Doctor that all you have to do is close one eye at a time, or wink?" Well, Travis?

TRAVIS: Are you mocking me, Servalan?

SERVALAN: Get your hands off me, Travis!

TRAVIS: You know full well that I only have one eye!

SERVALAN: It would be hard to miss, Travis. And please, stop sneering.

TRAVIS: Even I know the answer to this, Servalan. It's actually almost impossible to close one eye and then the other for any length of time before closing both. Far safer, as the Doctor advised, to keep both of them open rather than risk it.

SERVALAN: Well done, Travis. But, oh Travis, think of the power you could have if you answered all these questions as correctly as the first. he power to destroy a planet at the press of a button. The power to command a fleet of pursuit ships...

TRAVIS: The power to eliminate Blake is all I need, Servalan. Just one chance...

(Avon teleports in.)

AVON: Well now, that's a chance you're never going to get, Travis.

TRAVIS: Avon! Aargghh!

SERVALAN: You appear to have shot him, Avon.

AVON: Well now, I hope that wasn't what you wanted, I would hate to have made your day, Servalan.

SERVALAN: Why not make yours? Go ahead... and kill me, Avon.

AVON: Come here.

(They snog.)

SERVALAN: A kiss? Is that what you came for, Avon?

AVON: It would hardly be worth diverting ten million spacials for such a... minor pleasure. We need the answers to those questions as much as you need them, Servalan.

SERVALAN: Oh Avon. We're working together at last?

AVON: A temporary arrangement only. Now read the next question or I'll blow your head off.

SERVALAN: This one comes from Phil Walker of South Norwood in the seventh sector of the third quadrant. Think of it, Avon. We could destroy South Norwood at the press of a button...

AVON: The question, Servalan.

SERVALAN: Phil asks "Watching Time-Flight on DVD the other day I was wondering how the crew and passengers, as well as the Doctor, Nyssa and Tegan, were able to come and go from the Concorde, as there were no steps leading up to the door once they got caught in the time contour. How did they get up and down?" Well, Avon?

AVON: Well now, Servalan, Time-Flight has never been a particular obsession of mine.

SERVALAN: Oh, I've found it very useful, Avon. Six months ago, there was a rebellion on Trantor. We pumped the reservoirs full of mind-numbing drugs, but the revolt continued. Only by showing Time-Flight again and again and again were we able to reduce the population of that miserably ungrateful little planet to a condition of open-mouthed, uncomprehending stupor.

AVON: I applaud your ingenuity, Servalan, but it still doesn't answer the question.

SERVALAN: Quite. Can you?

AVON: I have a friend you surely can. Orac!

ORAC: What is it now? I am engaged in highly important work, collating all the latest celebrity gossip.

AVON: Answer the question, Orac.

ORAC: Tsk, the solution is obvious. Remember the Doctor telling Captain Stapley that under the Master's hypnosis, the Concodrde crew believed they had made a smooth landing back at Heathrow even though they had made a very rough landing on the rugged wilderness? Surely the same principle applies to egress and entrance from the plane.

AVON: Orac, are you saying that the Doctor and the others fell at least twenty feet from the plane while believing they were walking down a flight of steps?

ORAC: Of course, Avon. Now please leave me alone, I want to know what Zac Efron is doing, and what Amy Whinehouse is getting up to today.

SERVALAN: But the Doctor and the others suffered no broken limbs?

AVON: It's simple, Servalan. Like Orac says, under deep hypnosis, the Doctor and company wouldn't even feel the pain of their fall. And we have to assume they clambered back up to the door later.

SERVALAN: Oh, I don't assume anything, Avon.

AVON: Read the final question, Servalan.

SERVALAN: This question is a very good one, Avon. I shall be sending one hundred million credits to Steven Jones of Southampton for asking it. It concerns John Smith and Professor Yana. He asks, "Why does it hurt so much to rewrite Time Lord biology and turn a Time Lord human, but it doesn't seem to hurt at all when they turn back into Time Lords again?"

AVON: I won't need Orac for that one, Servalan. The answer must be that the pain of transition comes when forcing Gallifreyan biology out of shape, against the grain as it were, into human form. When the process is reversed, the Time Lord is returning to his natural state. In fact, I would imagine the experience of reversal is, if anything, a pleasurable one.

SERVALAN: Oh Avon... just think what we could do with a transformation arch like the one in Doctor Who. Think of the power we could share.

AVON: I already have, Servalan, and sharing is a word that niether of us understands.

SERVALAN: What are you really doing here, Avon? Those wuestion are of no value to you or Blake. I would hate to think you'd been distracting me.

AVON: Think what you like, Servalan. I imagine that while I've kept you busy here, Blake and Jenna have taken what they wanted.

SERVALAN: The Federation's for Madeira cakes?

AVON: How did you know that?

SERVALAN: I wrote the recipe, Avon. The perfect trap. And Blake is back on the Liberator right now, in the kitchen, making up those very cakes.

AVON: Damn you, Servalan! What have you done?

SERVALAN: I neglected to add sugar to the list of ingredients, Avon. Blake's cakes will be perfect, but tasteless.

AVON: Cally, bring me up now!

(Avon teleports out.)

TRAVIS: Oh my head... what happened, Servalan?

SERVALAN: Oh Travis, you fool. Get up. Take a squadron of mutoids and a command ship and pursue the Liberator. Seek, locate and destroy those cakes!

Sorvad's excuse for this article: he has been eviscerated with a short, and VERY blunt, knife.




What I boggle at is that someone was paid to write that. It could have been me. Maybe... one day...