INDEPENDENCE DAY

PETER DARVILL-EVANS

Published by BBC Worldwide Ltd,

Woodlands, 80 Wood Lane

London W12 OTT

First published 2000

Copyright © Peter Darvill-Evans

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Original series broadcast on the BBC

Doctor Who and TARDIS are trademarks of the BBC

ISBN 0 563 53804 X

Imaging by Black Sheep, copyright © BBC 2000

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Mackays of Chatham

Cover printed by Belmont Press Ltd, Northampton

Prologue

First of all...

A tiny circle of colour appeared from behind the distant

forest of evergreens.

It was the signal. Madok watched the balloon, buffeted by

the winds, as it rose into the pale violet sky.

He stamped his feet, holstered his revolver, and slapped his

gloved hands against his arms. Kedin Ashar"s summer

workshops were to the north of the tropic, where the climate

was never warm. The building Madok was guarding - the

workshop without a name or number, whose location was

known to no more than twenty people - was at the

northernmost limit of habitation, concealed in the forests

that covered the foothills of the ice mountains. He unlatched

the outer door, stepped into the gloom, and struck the inner

door until it reverberated in its frame. He hoped the banging

could be heard inside the cavernous, noisy workshop.

„Yes, Madok?" It was the voice of Tevana Roslod, as calm

and gently amused as ever, despite the distortion of the

sound that brayed from the speaker of the address system.

„The signal, Tevana Roslod," Madok said. He remembered

not to shout, but he still felt ridiculous talking to the air. „The

Duke and his party are on their way to the house."

„Come in, Madok." This was Kedin Ashar"s voice. „Come and

see. It"s ready for its test flight."

Madok smiled. Kedin Ashar took such enthusiastic

pleasure in each new piece of machinery. This, Madok knew,

was the most ambitious scheme yet. He felt a bubble of

excitement expand within him as he fumbled his key into the

lock of the inner door.

Madok stood in the doorway. He was motionless with

wonder. Kedin, Tevana and their team of craftsmen were

gathered at the winged base of the cylinder. It was thicker

than the trunk of a beam-oak; it shimmered. Madok"s gaze

rose up the metal spire: its nose-cone almost touched the

roughly- hewn planks that supported the roof.

„Well, come in, Madok," Kedin Ashar shouted. „Have you

frozen solid out there, or have you been chewing on a spore-

seed to alleviate the monotony of guard duty?"

„My lord," Madok said as he approached the base of the

rocket, „it is exactly like the photographs you showed me. It"s

magnificent. But I didn"t expect it to be so tall."

Kedin Ashar grinned and shook his head, as if he could

hardly believe it himself. „Neither did I, Madok, to be quite

honest. But the whole thing"s packed solid with fuel, and

even so Tevana assures me that there"ll be only just enough

thrust to take the damned thing beyond the atmosphere. And

I can"t argue with her calculations."

„That"s because they"re correct, my love," Tevana Roslod

said. She appeared beside Kedin and twisted his ear. She was

wearing craftsman"s overalls, her blonde tresses were

escaping from the rag with which she had tried to tie them

back, and her face was smudged with dirt. Nonetheless it

was still clear to Madok why his lord, for so many years a

determined bachelor and rakehell, had become enthralled by

her.

Kedin pulled away from Tevana"s grip and retaliated by

tickling her midriff. She squealed with laughter and began

punching his chest.

„My lord," Madok said. „My lady. The Duke will be at the

house within half an hour. If we leave now, and use the

vehicle, we will be there when he arrives. However, there will

be little time in which to prepare ourselves to welcome him. I

should change out of this winter hunting gear and into a

dress uniform. And I can"t imagine that Vethran would be

much impressed with my lady"s oily overalls."

„Oh, Ked," Tevana said, „do I have to be there to greet him?

You know how I hate these stuffy receptions."

„Of course you have to be there, light of my life. I know I"m

brilliant, but I"m prepared to let you take some of the credit."

Kedin grinned as he avoided a flurry of her punches.

„Vethran"s got to meet you some time. I"ve told him that you

and I are - well, you know."

Madok shook his head. When Kedin Ashar and Tevina

Roslod were together they seemed to forget that they were

landholders and merchants. They acted and spoke with all

the formality of farm children. And whatever the subject - the

calibre of the air inlets of a carburettor, the burn rate of

liquid petroleum fuel, the price per head of mountain-reared

cattle or the selection of a tapestry - they could talk for

hours.

It was time to abandon newfangled protocol. „Kedin," Madok

said. „Tevana. Put on your coats and come to the vehicle now.

We must go to see Vethran. Forget about his bloody

dukeship. Ignore the fact that he"s the leader of our nation.

Just remember that he"s a potential customer. Let"s go and

clinch a sale."

Outside, Madok announced that he would drive the vehicle.

He was still more used to riding a camelope than trying to

direct one of Kedin Ashar"s roaring machines, but he knew

that both Kedin and Tevana loved sitting in the driver"s seat,

and there wasn"t time for a discussion about which of them

should drive. In any case, Kedin and Tevana were engaged in

an unspoken competition to discover which of them could

coax the highest speed from one of their self-propelled

vehicles, and Madok desired never again to be a passenger

with either of them.

„It"s ready to launch," Kedin yelled over the noise of the

exhaust. He clapped Madok on the shoulder. The vehicle

bounced over the ruts of the track that wound downwards

through the forest. „Ready to launch, Madok. I can"t wait."

„You"ll have to," Tevana told him. „I want to be sure that

Vethran and everyone from the court is back in the capital

before we send the rocket up."

Madok gripped the steering wheel tightly and risked

glancing back over his shoulder at his passengers. „You don"t

intend to make the rocket available for sale?" he shouted.

„I shudder to think what uses Vethran would find for it,"

Tevana said. Her flawless face was marred by a frown. „I

worry about letting him have the vehicles."

„Anyway, Madok," Kedin said, „this rocket"s merely for

research. It"s a toy compared with the one we have in mind.

We still have to reinvent the technology for steering the

damned things. And I don"t want Vethran to know anything

about it - at least until we"re sure we can do it."

Automatically, Madok looked upwards, searching in the

cloudless expanse for the glint of reflected light.

„There," Kedin yelled. His outstretched arm pointed towards

the west horizon.

Madok slowed the vehicle, pulled the goggles from his face,

and concentrated on the western sky. The tiny sliver of light

was just above the tree tops, hardly visible against the bright

lilac of the heavens.

It was known as the Moonstar. But Mendeb was a world

without a moon, and the shining satellite did not circle the

planet. Nor was it a star, being brighter and considerably less

distant. Kedin Ashar had collected and studied the scraps of

information about the arrival of people on Mendeb, and he

knew the truth about the Moonstar. And about the

Moonstar"s dimmer sister, known only as Two, which was,

apart from the sun by day and the eternal glittering backdrop

of the fixed stars by night, the only other body to be seen in

Mendeb"s skies.

When he had been told the story Madok had at first refused

to believe it. He still found that his mind reeled when he tried

to imagine the distance from Mendeb to the Moonstar, and

the further distance to the planet beyond it. He pictured a

metallic pencil, hurtling skywards on a pillar of flame. His

hands clenched on the rim of the steering wheel of the self-

propelled vehicle. He restrained himself from shouting aloud

with excitement. These were thrilling times indeed.

Less than an hour later Madok was in the thick of the

crowd, chatting with Vethran"s followers and summoning

servants to bring mulled wine for the lords, cushions for the

ladies, titbits for the fractious children. He listened to the

comments of the sceptics: a self-propelled vehicle was

intrinsically dangerous, would definitely explode, could not

be faster than a thoroughbred camelope, and was an idea in

very poor taste. Vethran, Madok noted, smiled at such

comments but did not voice his own opinions; the Duke had

known Kedin Ashar a long time, and knew that he was not to

be underestimated.

The chattering of the courtiers was drowned, suddenly, by

a roar that sounded like an avalanche. Some of the children

started to cry; the adults looked about, struck dumb. Kedin

Ashar strode from Vethran"s side and stopped halfway

towards the vast tent that had been erected on the lawn. He

raised his arms. Servants severed ropes, and twenty balloons

began to ascend, carrying with them the front panel of the

tent.

Smoke billowed from within the tent. The roaring noise

increased in volume. And from the swirling clouds of fog

emerged five four-wheeled carriages, accelerating towards the

crowd like carts careering down a hill. There was a universal

gasp of surprise, and a few shrill screams. Madok tried not to

smile as he saw several courtiers flinch, turn, and start to

run away.

The vehicles slid to a halt in a diagonal line, and in each

one the leather-coated, goggles-wearing crew stood and

saluted. „Hail Vethran, Duke of Gonfallon," they shouted in

unison. The five drivers sat, and turned their vehicles to face

the eastern end of the lawn, where servants were pulling

upright five wood-and-paper replicas of sword-wielding

cavalrymen on charging camelopes. The uniforms were those

of the elite guard of the Count of Dithra, whose territory lay

adjacent to Gonfallon and with whom Vethran had for some

time been provoking a quarrel.

The drivers set their machines in motion. The vehicles,

spouting smoke and a fearsome amount of noise, gathered

speed towards their targets. In the backs of the vehicles the

gunners crouched behind their strangely shaped, unwieldy

guns. Their fingers tightened on the triggers.

As one, they opened fire. The roar of the vehicles" engines

was instantly drowned by a rattling cacophony that caused

many in the crowd to cry out and cover their ears. Even

Madok was stunned: he had had some part in the design of

the rapid-repeating gun, but he had not previously heard five

firing together. The racket was like a regiment of riflemen all

shooting at once. Even the crackling boom of a field gun

sounded less relentlessly offensive to the ears.

Spent cartridges flew in arcs in the wake of the speeding

vehicles.

Madok, and those others in the crowd who had seen

military service, managed to tear their gaze from the vehicles

towards the targets.

The charging cavalrymen and their mounts were no longer

recognizable. All that remained were stumps of wood and

tatters of paper.

Madok shivered, and knew that his reaction had nothing to

do with the icy wind blowing down from the mountains. As a

cadet he had studied with men who were now officers in the

Dithran army. He knew that Dithran troops were generally a

disciplined lot, well led and well equipped.

They wouldn"t stand a chance.

The glorious Cathogh campaign had been concluded only

the previous summer. Vethran had wanted the county"s coal

fields, and the Count Cathogh had rashly refused the Duchy

of Gonfallon"s offer of a treaty of permanent alliance. Madok

had gone to the war in the entourage of Kedin Ashar, whose

battlefield tactics were outshone only by his personal

bravery. But Madok knew that it was the new guns, with

their long, rifled barrels, that had won the war. Cathogh"s

men and women were valiant, but their muskets were

accurate only within twenty metres. They died without sight

of their opponents.

Kedin Ashar had devised the weapons almost as a by-

product of the precise engineering he had had to develop for

his secret projects, and had sold some to Vethran"s army.

After the war, Kedin Ashar had received his reward: he had

become the largest landholder in County Cathogh. He had

assigned most of his new possessions to Tevana Roslod. They

had brought their new lands under the efficient

administration Tevana had begun to apply to all of their

estates, whose revenues funded their research.

It would be the same with Dithra. Vethran would buy as

many self-propelled vehicles and rapid-repeating guns as he

could afford. And he would be able to afford as many as he

wanted, as Kedin Ashar could be paid in sequestered Dithran

lands.

The demonstration was over. Kedin Ashar led his guests

into the reception hall of his summer residence. In his

father"s day it had been a hunting lodge, and the stuffed

heads of a dozen species stared glassily down at the

procession of dignitaries and servants who processed

through the ornately carved doors. Greatcoats and hats and

scarves were discarded, and carried away in mounds by

staggering servants. Pipes were lit. Glasses of sweet wine

were selected from silver trays.

All the animated talk was of the self-propelled carriages. A

sixth vehicle had been installed at the centre of the hall. Like

the five that had been used in the demonstration it looked

rugged, and was fitted with one of the rapid-repeating guns,

an ominous metal structure with a cylindrical bullet-case

and a wide barrel. This one, however, had coachwork that

had been polished until it sparkled; two huge electrical lamps

stared like unblinking eyes from its front; and the driver"s

position was protected with panels of armour.

Some sniffed and complained about the machine"s vulgar

appearance; others peered at the engine, exposed beneath

panels of cowling lifted like a gull"s wings, and tried to fathom

the workings of the maze of rods, wires and cylinders.

Standing apart from the throng, Kedin Ashar and Duke

Vethran were talking terms. Madok was at his lord"s side,

memorising the details of the discussion so that he could

draw up the contract of sale.

„We can build twenty a week," Kedin said. „Complete with

weapons and armour plating. You could have two divisions

by mid-year," he added shrewdly, „which would leave enough

time for a campaign before the rains."

The Duke smiled and scratched his beard. „But what about

the drivers, eh?" he said. „The sappers are only just getting

used to the steam tractors you sold us two years ago, and

anyway you can"t send sappers into battle."

Madok was ready with the answer. „I"m an army man, as

you know, my lord," he said. „And I"m sure there"ll be no

shortage of volunteers to drive these machines. We can train

drivers and gunners, on the prototypes you"ve seen today,

while we"re building the rest of the vehicles. If your lordship

is disposed to grant us an order, of course."

The Duke grunted. „Well, Kedin," he said, „if I take these

machines off your hands - say, a hundred and twenty of

them - what do you want?"

Kedin Ashar grinned. „I could do with a deep-water port

near my grain lands in Harran," he said. „I wondered whether

your lordship would consider granting me the town and

province of Bilton."

Vethran"s smile remained fixed on his face. Madok was

sure that Kedin had gone too far this time.

„Bilton is one of the five Duchy ports," Vethran rumbled, „as

you know very well. I had it from my mother. And it"s worth

eight hundred thousand marks a year."

Kedin Ashar shook his head in pretend frustration. „It"s a

small price to pay, Vethran," he said. „The Dithrans will pay

that a hundredfold in taxes and reparations - once you"ve

conquered them."

„I can take Dithra without your machines, Kedin," the Duke

said.

Kedin shrugged. „Yes, of course. But not this year, my lord.

Not in a single campaign. And if you take Dithra this year,

and grant us the stewardship and revenues of Bilton, I"m

confident that by this time next year we"ll be able to

demonstrate something even more remarkable than these

vehicles."

The Duke was clearly on the point of agreeing. „You sold

rifles to Dithra," he muttered.

„I"m a businessman, my lord," Kedin said. „But I"m also a

patriot and an old friend. You can be sure I"ll supply these

vehicles to no one but you until next year at the earliest.

Madok will insert the usual exclusivity clause in our

agreement."

„I"m not happy," the Duke said. „You"re getting too wealthy,

Kedin."

„What nonsense!" It was Tevana Roslod"s voice. She curtsied

in front of the Duke. „I"m sorry, my lord," she went on, „but I

cannot allow that it is possible for Kedin Ashar to be too

wealthy. Why, he has to keep me in gowns like this." She

stood on her toes and twirled, so that the skirt of her dress

fanned out into a spinning circle of jewelled silk.

Madok suppressed a smile. He had had to threaten to

administer a spanking before Tevana had agreed to wear the

dress: she hated dressing up and had never been presented

at court. The green silk clung to her slender figure. She was

vivacious, angelic, desirable. Vethran"s eyes followed her

every movement. She stood beside Kedin Ashar and tried to

look demure.

„My lord," Kedin said. „May I introduce Tevana Roslod? She

is my partner in - just about everything I do."

„Tevana," the Duke said, and lifted her hand to his lips.

„Delighted." His gaze lingered on her pale shoulders before he

turned again to Kedin. „You haven"t married, then?"

„No, my lord." It was Tevana who replied. „We"re rather old-

fashioned in that way. I hope you"re not offended."

„Not at all," Vethran assured her. „Quite the reverse. Kedin"s

told you, I"m sure, that he and I were at school together. Did

he tell you that I was always ahead of him? Ah! I thought not.

Well, Kedin has told me much about you, Tevana Roslod.

Come into the drawing room with me awhile, and explain to

me why Kedin thinks he needs to have Bilton. I"m sure we"ll

be able to come to an understanding."

As the Duke led her away Tevana glanced over her

shoulder. Madok saw her confused expression, her wide eyes.

He made to follow, but felt Kedin"s hand on his arm.

„We need Vethran to buy these vehicles," Kedin whispered

urgently. „Tevana knows that. She"ll be all right."

Later, after dusk had fallen and all the guests had departed

in their carriages, Madok tried to concentrate on the intricate

wording of the contract. From the room above the study in

which he was working he could hear Tevana, no longer

sobbing but instead exclaiming angrily that Vethran was an

animal, and that she would never see him again no matter

what depended on it.

He heard Kedin assuring Tevana that she was safe, that

Vethran would not try to carry out his vile suggestions, that

Vethran depended on Kedin"s advice and inventions.

But what will happen when Vethran has conquered the

whole world, Madok wondered. He"ll need no one then.

Neither Tevana nor Kedin will be safe. The rocket: it must be

made to work. We have helped to create Vethran; now we

must be sure we can outrun him.

And then, some years later...

The only sound was made by insects buzzing angrily

against the exterior of the translucent panels.

„It"s awful hot here, Doctor," Jamie said. He shook his kilt to

create a draught around his legs. He could see the shapes of

bugs the size of his hand clinging to the outside of the

circular structure, and he hoped that the cloudy material

was less flimsy than it looked.

„We"re on the equator, Jamie," the Doctor said, and

continued his promenade around the curving desks.

„That"s the wee line that runs round the middle of a planet,"

Jamie said. One day, he thought, the Doctor would realize

that he had acquired an education during their travels

together.

It"s as if he thinks that explaining the cause of the heat

makes it more bearable, Jamie thought. And he can stare at

those flickering lights and flashing numbers as long as he

likes; I swear he"s no more idea of what they mean than he

has of how to read the console of the TARDIS. It"s a miracle

we ever get anywhere.

The TARDIS, incongruous as ever, stood like a weather-

beaten hut that had been plucked from a hillside and set

down in the centre of the circular room. The door was open,

and Jamie knew that the interior was cool. And he"d never

once found an insect anywhere in the ship"s labyrinthine

corridors. A bead of sweat trickled down his chest.

„Could we not go somewhere else?" he said. „There"s no one

here. It"s just a room full of electrical equipment," he added,

enjoying the ease with which the phrase slipped from his

tongue.

The Doctor stopped, turned to face Jamie, frowned, fiddled

with his bow tie, thrust his hands into the pockets of his

vast, dusty frock coat, and then pulled them out to ruffle his

already untidy mop of dark hair. „I can"t help thinking that

the TARDIS must have brought us here for a reason," he said.

„When we turn up somewhere unexpected, something usually

happens."

„Aye, and it"s usually something bad." And when do we ever

turn up somewhere we"ve planned to, Jamie added in his

thoughts. „But whatever it is, it"s not happening, Doctor. Not

this time. We"ve been in this furnace a half-hour and we"ve

seen no one and heard nothing. Perhaps we"ve arrived a wee

bit early. We"ve a ship that can travel anywhere in time and

space; let"s go away and come back again after a while. I"m

sure you can bring the TARDIS back to within an inch of its

present position and in exactly six hours from now. By which

time it might be cooler."

„Now, now, Jamie," the Doctor said. His face attempted to

look simultaneously amused, hurt and severe. „I"m pretty

sure I know how to control the TARDIS, you know. The old

girl simply needs a little sympathetic understanding."

„Aye, Doctor," Jamie said. „So we"ll go inside now, and you"ll

just move the ship forward by a few hours?" He stepped

towards the TARDIS"s welcoming doorway, and was delighted

to see that the Doctor was doing the same.

„Well," the Doctor began, and then stopped, stared into the

distance, and started counting on his fingers and muttering

to himself. „I must admit Jamie," he announced at last, „that

I"m not confident of performing a manoeuvre of such

delicacy." His frown disappeared and was replaced by a

toothy grin. „But I"m sure I"ll be able to do it one day. And, as

you say, we can go anywhere in time and space. So it doesn"t

matter whether we decide to come back immediately, or in

two weeks, or in twenty years. We can still arrive just here,

and six hours from now."

„That"s if you can remember to come back, Doctor. You"ll

need a good memory if you"re going to leave it for twenty

years." Jamie"s opinion was that he"d rather trust a redcoat

than the Doctor"s memory.

The Doctor nodded enthusiastically. „Of course, Jamie, of

course. I"ll need something to remind me. Something from

here. Be a good chap and find something memorable, and

bring it into the TARDIS." He strode into the dark interior of

the big blue box, leaving Jamie alone and perspiring in the

circular room.

Something memorable, Jamie thought as he surveyed the

rows of illuminated desks; there"s nothing here that"s

different from anything else. When you"ve seen one range of

flickering wee lights you"ve seen all of them. Ah! I"ll take that.

It was the only unusual thing in the room: a tall column of

brightly coloured wires, twisted together into a complex but

organized shape. Better still, there was writing on the base of

the column: Mendeb Two PCS. The Doctor couldn"t fail to

remember where it was from.

Shaking sweat from his hair, Jamie wrestled with the thing

until he was able to pull it free from the desk into which it

had been set. He staggered backwards: the object was

heavier than it looked. As he turned towards the TARDIS the

socket from which he had tugged the artefact seemed to gape

at him like a mouth, open in outrage or warning.

„I"ve got something, Doctor," he called. „But I think it might

be something important."

„Oh, I doubt that, Jamie," the Doctor"s voice said from deep

within the TARDIS. „I thought you were keen to set off for

somewhere with a pleasant climate. Come along."

A vision of the Highlands swam into the young Scot"s mind.

Mist and drizzle; frost-rimed heather. He hefted the thing on

to his shoulder and ran through the open doorway.

And then, later still...

„You"ve been redecorating." The Doctor leant against the

frame of the door of Ace"s room. His piercing gaze darted from

the walls, newly bare, to the shelving, now with weaponry

and explosives stacked separately from recorded music, to

the colourful new rugs. „And tidying. I"m impressed."

Ace laughed, for no reason other than that she hadn"t seen

the Doctor for a couple of days, and she was pleased to see

him.

She couldn"t even be bothered to find his lack of manners

irritating, but for form"s sake she scowled at him and said,

„Professor, I suppose you know you"re supposed to knock,

and wait to be invited in, before entering a lady"s bedroom?"

He wasn"t listening. He was staring at the metal and plastic

structure which she had installed as an objet d’art on a table

in the corner of the room.

„Where on earth did you find that?" he said.

She might have guessed. He was probably about to

announce that it was a timed-fuse anti-matter bomb, or a

crucial component of the TARDIS"s hostile actions

displacement mechanism. She"d had it sussed as part of a

communications system. She resigned herself to losing it.

„Nowhere on Earth, that"s for sure. Not from around my

era, anyway. That"s seriously futuristic technology. I found it

lying at the back of one of the storage cupboards on the

twelfth level. Can I keep it?"

The Doctor strode across the room and plucked the object

up with his right hand.

And that"s another irritating thing about him, Ace thought.

I was sweating buckets by the time I"d hauled that object

down here. Him and his Time Lord powers.

„It"s part of a communications system," he said. Ace smiled

to herself. „Have you noticed the lettering on the base?"

„Gibberish, I thought," she said.

„Mendeb Two PCS," the Doctor read. What do you make of

that?"

Now that he"d said the words aloud, the meaning was

obvious.

„Mendeb Two sounds like a planet," she said." “PCS” could

be planetary communications system, seeing as that what we

think it is anyway."

„Yes," the Doctor said slowly. „Do you know, Ace, I think

you"re right."

„And you"re surprised?" she protested, but he wasn"t

listening. He was already on his way out of her room, with

the structure of twisted metal under his arm.

„This may be important," the Doctor called over his

shoulder.

I"ll stay here, then, shall I? Ace asked silently. Nice to see

you, Doctor, thanks for dropping in.

Then she smiled. Maybe the Doctor would land the

TARDIS, once he"d worked out why her metal sculpture was

important. She wandered over to the shelves that she hadn"t

yet dared tell the Doctor she called The Armoury. Maybe

she"d have to blow something up again.

Chapter One

They would be there soon. That was all the Doctor had said.

All there was for Ace to do was wait.

And that"s just what I used to do, she thought, before the

Doctor turned up in my life. I was waiting on tables in that

grotty bar on Iceworld. And waiting for something interesting

to happen.

Ace was lying, fully clothed, on her bed, a floor-level

platform in the middle of her newly Spartan room. She looked

at each of the four walls in turn.

She was feeling thoroughly fed up.

So this is it, then, she told herself. This is the lot of a Time

Lord"s assistant. The excitement and adventure of travelling

in time and space. Was I worse off as a waitress? Not much.

It was the bare walls that annoyed her most, she decided.

Because she had no idea what to decorate them with. Back

on Earth, a lifetime ago, she"d known exactly what she

wanted on the walls of her bedroom: pictures of sexy men.

At first she"d shared her bedroom with Adam Ant; then

George Michael. Even when her musical tastes had moved on

to Primal Scream and the Jesus And Mary Chain, she"d still

secretly had a thing for George.

But who did she fancy now? She didn"t even know how long

she"d been away. Who was it cool to lust for these days?

The last film she"d been to see, just days before she was in

the chem lab at school and carried out the experiment that

had gone only slightly wrong but had swept her up in a time-

storm anyway, had been an arty thing called With nail and I.

She"d thought it was really funny, even though her mates

who were with her didn"t get it. There had been a fanciable

bloke in that; now what was his name? He was definitely

gorgeous. Who was he? That was it: Richard E Grant.

Why couldn"t the Doctor be more like Richard E Grant?

That, Ace was sure, would make life in the TARDIS much

more interesting. Richard E Grant wouldn"t treat her like an

educationally sub-normal infant. He"d realise that Ace was

grown up now, and had her own opinions; her own life to

lead; her own feelings and desires.

Adam Ant; George Michael; who else? Who now?

Ace sat up suddenly. No use brooding. Might as

well mix up some more high explosive.

Madok couldn"t help looking up again and again at the dome.

He recognised the geodesic steel polygons that contained the

vast glass panes: Tevana"s theoretical model, one of her last

projects, transformed into grandiose, awe-inspiring reality

thanks to Kedin"s steel foundries and Vethran"s boundless

self- aggrandisement.

Every time he came to court there was something new. The

last time he"d visited the Summer Palace he"d been amazed to

find that the entire structure had been faced with pink

marble. And now the great courtyard of Vethran"s home

Citadel had been roofed with this hemisphere of glass.

There was almost no trace of the compact fortress that

Vethran had inherited with his dukedom: the sprawling,

towering, expanding Citadel had smothered the older

structure as completely as Vethran had obscured his

relatively humble beginnings. Vethran"s father had been

considered an upstart when he declared Gonfallon a duchy:

it was smaller than many mere counties. Madok had been a

child at the time, but he remembered the scandal. It was

little more than a decade since Vethran had come into the

dukedom, and now every duchy, county and manor on the

planet acknowledged Vethran as King.

„Remarkable, isn"t it?" Balon Ferud said.

Madok lowered his gaze and forced himself once again to

engage in courtly chat with the royal councillor. „Quite

remarkable, my lord," he said, and couldn"t resist adding:

„But of course, labour is - ah - cheap, these days."

Balon"s bluff, round face broke into a smile that deceived

Madok for not a moment. The councillor swept out a chubby

arm in a gesture that encompassed the filigree decoration on

the girders of the dome as well as the army of gardeners at

work in the newly planted borders and the omnipresent

serving-women in their indecently transparent skirts. „But

surely you can"t disapprove?" he asked mildly.

Madok"s smile was as wide and as feigned. „How could

anyone?" he replied, as images of the aftermath of Vethran"s

latest conquest flashed through his mind. „With all humility I

can claim to have played some part in helping to bring all

this about."

With all humility, Madok thought. Oh yes. I"m Kedin

Ashar"s man, and Kedin made Vethran ruler of all. Great

heavens, what have we done?

Balon raised a hand, and at once one of the women

scurried to his side to refill his glass. Madok nodded and

smiled at her: he didn"t know whether he was more

discomfited by the proximity of her nearly naked body or by

her pathetic eagerness to please. She seemed perplexed to

find that his glass was still full.

Madok drank and ate nothing during his visits to the royal

palaces. He was aware of the expertise of the King"s chemists.

He was so hungry now that his stomach was cramping, but

he dared not so much as sip the wine.

Balon leant forward. The gilt buttons and brocade on his

uniform glittered; medals jingled ostentatiously on his broad

chest. It"s said that his majesty intends this entire courtyard

to become his new throne room," he whispered, as though

imparting exclusive news. „And in due course the Council will

award him imperial honours. In recognition of his valiant

deeds."

It was Madok"s experience that Vethran always took

whatever he wanted, and that if he wanted the title of

Emperor he would have it. But he thought it undiplomatic to

point that out to one of the King"s councillors, so he merely

adjusted his expression to indicate polite surprise.

„Did you see that?" Balon exclaimed, sweeping his arm up

towards the apex of the dome and indicating the cloudy sky

beyond the glass.

„What, my lord?" Madok said. This was, he was sure,

another transparent attempt to lure him into revealing

sensitive information.

„It"s gone now," Balon complained. „Moved damned quickly.

I think it might have been one of those flying darts that

people have reported seeing."

„Have they, my lord?" Madok said. „I haven"t heard these

rumours." So, Vethran and his councillors knew something

about the scout ships. He suppressed the sudden pang of

fear that his own ship might have been discovered: it was

much more likely that his ship, or others, had merely been

glimpsed in transit.

„I expect Kedin Ashar would know about such things,"

Balon went on. „But we never see him at court these days.

Why is that?"

At last: a direct question.

„Kedin Ashar is kept busy, as you know, my lord," Madok

replied. „Now that he has been awarded the title of Lord of the

Skies he has to attend to the responsibilities that are

entailed. And there is still a war on." A direct answer, too, and

truthful as far as it went.

„So he"s -" Belon jerked his head up and lifted his eyes,

indicating both an interrogative suggestion and a skyward

direction.

„Exactly so, my lord," Madok said. „Kedin finds himself up

there all the time. But he"s keen to return." And that was

entirely true.

„So let me guess," Ace said. „We"ve arrived on Mendeb Two."

The Doctor hadn"t summoned her to the control room, but

she"d hurried there anyway: she knew how to interpret the

changes in the hums and groans that coursed like the

complaints of an antique central-heating system beneath the

corridors of the TARDIS.

„Ah, well, yes," the Doctor said, struggling into his jacket

while simultaneously trying to make adjustments to the

instruments on the scanner module. „And no. Hello, Ace," he

added, as if he"d only just noticed her. He grinned. „Good to

see you again. All ready for the off?"

„So where are we, then?" Ace was in no mood to be diverted.

„We"re approaching the Mendeb system," the Doctor said.

He had one finger raised: always a bad sign, it meant he was

in lecture mode. „It"s really quite an interesting place. Three

gas giants, in unusually close orbits."

„But we"re not going to the gas giants." Ace wanted to cut to

the chase. Once the Doctor got going there was no stopping

him.

„Well, no, we"re not. We"re going to Mendeb Two. The

smaller of the two inhabited planets."

„Two inhabited planets?" This was more interesting. There

could be scope here, Ace reckoned, for her to operate

independently for a change. Meet some people. A thought

struck her. „Inhabited by humans, right?"

„Oh yes. Completely human, on both planets. Originally

colonised by the TAM corporation."

Ace grimaced. She"d frequently had reason to access the

TARDIS"s history abstracts relating to mankind"s trek to the

stars in the first half of the third millennium. „We don"t like

the TAM corporation."

The Doctor made one of his screwed-up faces. „They were a

particularly rapacious and unscrupulous bunch, even for the

times," he said. „But they"re long gone. Like so many of the

corporations, they - ah - dramatically downsized during and

after the wars. They pulled out of the Mendeb system four

hundred years ago. And left the settlers to fend for

themselves."

Ace hoped that, if she waited, the Doctor would get round

to telling her what they were doing in the Mendeb system.

But she knew from previous experiences that she couldn"t

rely on it. So she had to ask.

„So," she said, we"ve got a two-planet colony that"s had four

centuries to learn about self-government. What"s the

problem?"

The Doctor looked insufferably smug. „Not a two-planet

colony, Ace. That"s the point. Two, entirely separate, single-

planet colonies. Mendeb Two and Mendeb Three. During the

wars the corporations had virtually all their interstellar ships

requisitioned, and in any case TAM weren"t in the business of

being charitable to settlers - even those who farmed and

mined the products that TAM traded in. When TAM left, they

took everything they could take with them. They left a space

station in orbit between the two planets, but they left no

ships on the planets themselves. No manufacturing plant, no

robots. No valuable high tech at all."

„OK, so there are two separate planets, both with

populations who have to pull themselves up by their own

bootstraps. I get the picture. They"re farmers, miners, hardy

frontier types. Not good with computers or representative

democracy. They"ve made a mess of it, and we"re here to help

out. A good guess? Am I warm?"

„We"re here to stop a war, Ace." The Doctor"s eyes shone

with excitement. „An interplanetary war. Let me show you."

He turned to the console again and began to fiddle with

dials and switches. Ace had long since given up nagging him

to update the systems with voice recognition. She reckoned

he had an unhealthy obsession with obsolete technology.

The control room darkened until its corners were full of

shadows. The time rotor at its centre rose and fell, its

blinking lights casting beams of illumination like a mirror

ball in a night club. In the air, between Ace and the Doctor, a

hologram coruscated into being, and Ace saw simulations of

the two planets, hanging like brilliant Christmas tree baubles

in the surrounding darkness.

„This is Mendeb Two," the Doctor said. It was a blue world

of water, its surface covered by oceans and swirling white

clouds.

„Pretty," Ace commented. „Where do the people live?"

„Two is the closer of the two planets to its sun." The

Doctor"s voice came from the darkness beyond the hologram.

„Most of the surface is too hot for human habitation. The

colonies were established at the poles, where the conditions

are less extreme. If you look closely you can see archipelagos

of islands."

Ace stood on tip-toe and could see the islands scattered

across the north polar region: like flakes of dandruff, she

thought, on a bald, blue head.

She saw the indistinct shape of the Doctor move across the

control room to the other pendant sphere.

„Three, on the other hand, is a cold planet. It"s more Earth-

like than Two, but due to its distance from the sun only the

equatorial belt, between the tropics, is habitable. That"s

where the large land masses are, though, so the colonised

area was substantial."

The upper and lower thirds of the planet were so brilliantly

white that to look at them hurt Ace"s eyes. Between the ice

caps, however, was a broad ribbon of green and brown and

blue.

„And here," the Doctor said, retracing his steps to stand

between the two planets, „is the space station. Abandoned

centuries ago, but still in its orbit, equidistant between the

two worlds."

Ace studied the rotating, metallic cylinder. It looked like a

standard space station. Big, though. Probably had its own

half-normal gravity. „And the situation now is - what,

exactly?"

„That, Ace," the Doctor said, „is what we"re here to find out."

He was smiling just a little too broadly.

„You don"t know, do you, Professor?" Ace said. „This ought

to be in the data store." She stepped into the hologram, so

that her black jeans and T-shirt came alive with colour, and

she peered closely at Mendeb Three. „I can"t see any

settlements," she said. „This hologram"s based on the surveys

TAM made from the station, before they brought any settlers

in. It"s ages old. I"m right, aren"t I? Where"s the up to date

information? I thought the TARDIS could just download all

this stuff from the Matrix."

The Doctor looked miffed. Good, Ace thought.

„As I"ve said many times before," the Doctor explained, „time

travel is not an exact science. In fact it"s almost a form of art.

The TARDIS is no mere machine, you know. And neither am

I."

„Yes, yes, yes," Ace interrupted him. „Don"t go on. Just tell

me what we don"t know."

„It"s an area of uncertainty in the continuum," the Doctor

said with deliberation, as if that explained everything. „An

area of probabilities, rather than certainties."

„What you"re telling me," Ace said, „is that between your

weird, alien, superhuman brain, and the TARDIS"s vast

computational power, and the entire resources of the Matrix

of all Gallifreyan knowledge, you haven"t got a clue what"s

happened to this system since the TAM corporation

abandoned it. You"re guessing, right? So what"s your best

guess?"

The hologram faded and then abruptly disappeared as the

lights in the control room returned to normal.

The Doctor was leaning against the console. When he

turned to Ace his face wore a look of anguish. „It"s a

projection, Ace. Not a guess. That"s all we ever have to go on.

Please don"t be so critical. We"re doing our best."

Oops. The Doctor really was upset. „Sorry, Doctor," Ace

said. „What do the projections tell us?"

He straightened. „Mendeb Three had more settlers and had

more natural resources. The settlers, left to themselves,

would also have benefited from exploiting the large areas of

arable land and forests. In time - in fact by now - they should

have created a civilization with a level of technology similar to

Earth"s in the twentieth century."

He walked to the hatstand and plucked his hat from it. „The

settlers on Mendeb Two would have had a comfortable life on

the islands," he went on, „but it would have been difficult for

them to organise, particularly as the inhabited parts are at

either end of the planet. They would have developed

technology more slowly than the people on Mendeb Two - but

for one thing. The corporation left on Two a reasonably

sophisticated radio system, with a communications centre on

the equator to link the two communities."

„Oh no," Ace said.

She and the Doctor stared for a moment at the column of

convoluted wires and metal that Ace had found in storage on

the twelfth level and which was now standing incongruously

next to the main doors.

„I just thought we should make sure they hadn"t missed it,"

the Doctor said. His voice was quiet. „I feel responsible."

Suddenly he was once again all smiles. He set his hat on

his head at a rakish angle. „But that"s the beauty of being a

Time Lord," he announced. „I can just turn up, whenever I

choose, and make sure things don"t go awry."

Ace couldn"t help smiling too. The Doctor"s moods were

infectious. Or was that just another of his uncanny, non-

human abilities? Good grief, she was getting paranoid. Been

around the Doctor too long. „And what do you expect to go

awry?" she asked.

„Well," the Doctor said, „by about now the peoples of both

planets should have reached roughly the same level of

scientific knowledge. They"re rediscovering existing texts, so

progress will be fast once it gets going. The projections

indicate that they will have recently met each other, and in

fact the space station is now a busy trading post, with traffic

going back and forth to both planets. So this is the time of

danger. We have to make sure that they compete without

recourse to warfare. That"s probably why the TARDIS took me

to Mendeb Two in the first place. But in those days I"m afraid

I didn"t always entirely understand the workings of the old

girl."

„And all we have to do is pop back to a few minutes after

you took the communications core, and put it back." Ace was

disappointed. That didn"t sound like any fun at all.

„Yes," the Doctor said very slowly, and bent to examine the

control console. „Yes, that"s the idea. Probably." He

straightened, and looked directly at Ace. „The fact is, Ace, the

records aren"t as complete as they could be. The TARDIS has

been through some damaging experiences since the early

days of my travels."

„Oh," Ace said.

The Doctor tugged at his sleeves. „I can"t risk replacing the

device before I took it, if you see what I mean. Terrible risk of

temporal inversion. I"ve had to choose the latest possible

moment before there"s any likelihood of hostilities between

the planets."

„But you"re still going to Mendeb Two?" Ace said. „I come in

peace, here"s the vital piece of your communications network

I borrowed, hope you didn"t miss it, and by the way don"t

start a war with the other lot. That the idea?"

The Doctor scratched his head, nearly dislodging his hat as

he did so. „Well, yes. That"s about it. Shall we go?"

„No," Ace said, and waited until she was sure the Doctor

had heard and understood. She grinned at the look of

surprise on his face. „You go and do that. It sounds fine,

honest. I"m sure it"ll go all right. But I like the sound of that

space station. The trading post. It"ll be buzzing with people,

and things happening. I"ll scout around, get talking to some

of the traders, suss out what"s going on."

Got him! He obviously couldn"t think of any reason not to

let her visit the space station.

„We don"t know exactly what the situation is," he said at

last. „It could be dangerous."

What wasn"t, Ace thought. She brandished her backpack -

the one in which she kept the explosive devices the Doctor

forbade her from carrying. „Danger is my middle name," she

said, „or it would be if I had more than one. I can look after

myself these days, you know. Besides, what can happen to

me on a space station?"

There were four palace guards, mounted on camelopes. They

remained about fifty metres behind Madok, making no

attempt to keep out of sight or to overtake him.

They had been there while Madok"s steed was picking its

way down the forested slopes that surrounded the Citadel;

they had accelerated to a trot, but no more so than Madok,

when the road descended into the vineyards and orchards

that had been the basis of Gonfallon"s prosperity in earlier,

simpler times.

Like Madok, the guards were armed with swords. He

suspected that they also had firearms concealed within their

uniforms, but he doubted whether they had guns that could

fire as accurately or as rapidly as the machine pistol that he

had in a holster slung round the pommel of his saddle. He

hoped he wouldn"t have to find out.

Hunger, the urgency of his mission, and an overwhelming

desire to quit Vethran"s domain all tempted Madok to spur

his mount onwards and outrun his pursuers. He resisted the

urge. He had been to the King"s court on his lord"s business;

now he was returning to one of his lord"s estates. It was

perhaps surprising that he was alone, but it was not of itself

unlawful. He had to do nothing that would arouse suspicion.

The palace guards had not intercepted him while he was on

the woodland tracks close to the Citadel, and they were

hardly likely to now that he had joined a main highway.

He let the camelope use the broad sward at the side of the

road: now that self-propelled vehicles were increasingly

common, at least among the aristocracy, more and more

roads were being surfaced with the mixture of gravel and tar

that made them suitable for motorised vehicles but hard on

animals" hooves.

The four guards were still behind him.

They were still there four hours later. The clouds had

dispersed, and the rays of the midday sun seemed to have a

physical weight, flattening the landscape and bearing down

on Madok"s shoulders. He was out of Vethran"s fief at last:

the fields on his left were still Gonfallon, but those on his

right were in the manor of Horax.

The camelope plodded on. To Madok"s left, the ground rose

towards the hills that were owned by the Count of Orthalon.

Later, as the shadows lengthened and a welcome breeze

stirred the dust beside the road, Horax"s neat fields gave way

to ridges of scrub: the hinterland of County Harragon.

Still the palace guards were fifty metres behind him.

As dusk was falling he nudged the flank of his mount: the

camelope turned off the road and trotted, home at last,

through the open gates at the edge of Garthal Manor, one of

Kedin Ashar"s more modest estates.

Half a dozen of the household troops were waiting for him.

Their camelopes were tethered under a stand of trees; the

men and women were sitting in the long grass. Madok heard

their voices before he saw them.

They sprang up when they heard the sound of his

camelope"s hooves. Madok reined in his mount and sat in the

saddle, stretching his weary limbs, as the troopers brushed

down their tunics and donned their helmets.

„Sire," the captain shouted as he ran towards Madok, still

adjusting his chinstrap, „felicitations on your safe return. You

had a fruitful journey, I trust?"

Madok slid from his saddle. „I"ve had a bellyful of courtly

manners, Gared," he said. „I"m as stiff as a board and as

hungry as a marsh hog. So if I hear one more genteel phrase

I"ll give you a kicking. Understood?"

Gared laughed. „Understood. We"ve food and wine with us,

if you can"t hold out until we reach the manor house. It"s

good to have you back, Madok. Everything went all right?"

Madok shrugged. He couldn"t easily explain the remorse

and revulsion he felt every time he visited the court. „I"ve got

the cargo," he said, indicating his saddlebag. „And the money."

The troopers had lit lanterns: their burnished helmets and

buttons glittered like fireflies. They were pulling flasks of

wine and loaves of bread from their animals" packs. Madok

would be able to relax soon, for a brief while.

„Gared," he said, „tell your troopers they"re not on parade.

They must be uncomfortable in full dress uniform. I don"t

need a guard of honour, you know. I"ve had an escort all the

way from the Citadel."

He pointed out to Gared the four stationary palace guards,

as indistinct as shadows on the darkening highway. As he

watched, they turned their mounts and began to retrace their

many steps to the King"s domain.

Madok breathed out a long sigh of relief. Another mission

accomplished. There would not be many more. Perhaps none:

events were reaching a critical point.

He would have a few hours" sleep in the safety of the manor

house, and Gared"s troopers for protection and company on

the short journey to the landing strip. He would have to be

airborne before daybreak, even though it was perilous to

launch a scout ship in the dark.

The evening air was rich with scents: the honey aroma of

pollen, the clean tang of cut hay. Madok took in lungfuls of

it, and wondered when he"d next have the chance to breathe

air that wasn"t filtered. He"d had enough of skulking and

hiding and planning. It was time to act. Kedin must make his

move soon. Things would be settled, one way or the other.

„I thought so," Ace said. „The gravity"s not too bad." She

jumped into the air and experienced a momentary sensation

of floating before her booted feet were pulled down to the

floor.

The Doctor"s head and shoulders tilted through the

TARDIS"s outer doorway. He looked to and fro, like a nervous

bird.

Ace gestured with her hands. „To my right, standard-issue

space station corridor. Metal bulkheads, some sort of man-

made material as cladding, heavy-duty rubberised flooring.

Low-energy lighting. No people. To my left: exactly the same.

The air"s breathable, the place is obviously inhabited. You

see? It"s perfectly safe."

The Doctor cocked his head, as if listening. Ace could hear

nothing apart from the background hum of the life-support

system and the echoing, distant clangs and squeaks that

she"d heard every time she was in a space-going metal object.

„I"d rather you were with me, Ace," the Doctor said.

Ace was aware of how small and crumpled he was. He

always looked like that, of course: a short, slight man in

dishevelled clothes. But usually he was being powerful and

knowledgeable and mysterious, so you didn"t notice his

appearance.

She almost walked back into the TARDIS. „All right," she

said, and then stopped when she glimpsed the satisfied smile

that flitted across his face. Was he manipulating her again?

„I"ll do my stuff here," she said, „and then you come and

collect me. I"ll know when the TARDIS gets back here." She

tapped the side of her head. I"m getting used to this time-

travelling lark."

„But, Ace -"

„Not another word, Doctor. You go and sort out the

communications network on Mendeb Two. I"m OK here."

She stood and watched as the big blue box shimmered and

faded out of existence. The flashing blue light on the roof

remained visible for a few moments, then with a rush of air it

too was gone.

„At last," Ace said to herself, „I"m my own boss. So which

way now?"

She looked both ways along the corridor. Either way it was

gloomy and deserted. The metallic creaks and groans seemed

louder now that she was alone. She thought that she could

hear voices, too: distant, indistinct. It was impossible to tell

from which direction the sounds came.

So this is the thriving hub of interplanetary trade, is it? Ace

asked herself as she set off along the corridor. I hope the

whole place isn"t this lively and thrilling.

She spied a security camera set into the ceiling ahead of

her. As she approached it she gave it a cheeky grin. She

waved. Her smile faded as she realised that the camera

wasn"t moving to track her progress. It wasn"t working.

Curiouser and curiouser, she thought.

Madok felt the cold sweat drying on his body. He relaxed at

last into the contoured embrace of the padded seat. All

around him banks of lights and dials flickered and hummed.

Outside the craft the landing stage was filling with air. He

kept his eyes on the tiny red bulb that would glow green

when it was safe for him to disembark.

He had become almost confident about landing the ship on

the planet. It wasn"t so very different from piloting an aircraft.

The controls worked by electricity, it seemed, rather than

simple hydraulics, and he would have preferred to be able to

feel the resistance of air against the rudder through a stick

which he could wrestle with. But he could manage the

lifeless, sliding control bars.

Landing in the space station was a different matter. He felt

utterly helpless, surrounded by dials and switches whose

functions he could only guess at. The ship didn"t need him to

pilot it, of course. Once he was beyond the planet"s

atmosphere he pressed the button marked automatic and the

ship took itself to the station, and manoeuvred itself into one

of the landing stages with a graceful competence that put to

shame Madok"s clumsy landings on the planet.

The light was green. With a hiss the doors slid open, and

Madok unbuckled his seat belt and rose on shaking legs.

„Welcome back," Horval said as Madok entered the control

room that overlooked the landing stage. „Everything go okay?"

Horval was at the side of the room, next to the levers that

operated the doors of the landing stage. It never failed to

disconcert Madok that the only way that the doors could be

opened and closed was by means of a panel labelled

EMERGENCY - MANUAL OVERRIDE. The space station had

layers of secrets that Kedin and his technicians had failed to

penetrate.

„Yes," Madok said. He combed his fingers through his damp

hair, and lifted into sight the saddlebags he was carrying in

his other hand. „The promissory notes from Vethran"s

exchequer, correct down to the last mark. Blood money. And

another batch of hell-brew from the King"s chemical works."

He was surprised at the vehemence of his own words. It

didn"t matter here: at last he was able to express his true

feelings.

Horval shook his head slowly. „It must be tough for you," he

said. „Going back down there again and again. Dealing with

those people. And you did a stint as a pilot during the

invasion, too."

Madok managed to smile. „I"ll survive," he said. „And at least

we have justice on our side. Mainly." He cast a significant

glance at the saddlebags.

„The bad news," Horval said, „is that you"ll have to go back

again. That batch of SS10 will hardly be enough for the

consignment we"re holding. And Vethran wants another five

thousand on top of that. We"re using all the pods and

transports. They"re coming in as fast we can process them."

Madok couldn"t bear to think about it. „Great heavens,

Horval, they"re people," he yelled, clutching his head in his

hands. „Don"t talk about them as if they"re luggage."

Horval blinked in surprise. „I don"t like it any more than

you do," he muttered. „Kedin"s got the chemists working all

hours on the formula. You know that."

Madok held out his hand. „I"m sorry, Horval. It"s not your

fault. The last few days have been rather trying. Where is

Kedin, anyway? I ought to report in."

Horval took Madok"s hand and shook it. „It"s all right," he

said. „We"re all tense and tired and frustrated. Even Kedin

Ashar"s feeling it. He"s gone for a walk. By himself."

„What?" Kedin could protect himself better than most, and

the corridors were usually safe. All the same, it was an

unnecessary risk.

„He insisted, apparently," Horval said. „That"s what I heard."

Madok sighed and cursed. „I"d better go and find him. We

need him. There are decisions that must be taken. Open up."

The inner door slid open. Madok hefted the saddlebags on

to his shoulder and set off into the space station.

* * *

„The hills are alive," Ace sang, and stopped abruptly as she

heard her voice echoing along the deserted corridors.

She had crossed a couple of junctions with corridors as

featureless as the one she was in. She had tried to open a few

doors: those that she succeeded in opening led only into

empty rooms.

It"s quiet, she said to herself. Too quiet.

The sounds, when they came, were sudden, loud and

nearby. Voices raised in anger; running footsteps; a crash; a

shout.

Ace ran towards the noises. There was another junction

ahead. At the corner she stopped. She pressed her back

against the wall and twisted her head round the corner, then

ducked back.

There were people in the mouth of the adjoining corridor. It

looked like a confrontation. No one had been looking in her

direction. She took a step forward for a longer look.

There were half a dozen of them: mainly men, some women.

An unkempt bunch, dressed in ragged clothes. The men were

unshaven. They looked mean and nasty. They were in a half-

circle around a single opponent: a man, tall and slim,

dressed like a Ruritanian nobleman in a fancy military

uniform, all buttons and epaulettes. He was holding the

crowd at bay with a curved sword.

He didn"t seem flustered. „Look, I really don"t want to hurt

you," Ace heard him say. „Just back away. I should make

yourselves scarce if I were you. My men will be here at any

moment. They"re right behind me."

There was agitated murmuring in the small crowd. Then

one of the men shouted, „He"s bluffing. Let"s get him," and

lunged for the soldier"s sword arm. The others gave an angry

cry and all pressed forward at once.

This is more like it, Ace thought. A bit of action. And six

against one just isn"t fair.

She leapt into the fray.

Chapter Two

It wasn"t difficult to find Kedin Ashar. Madok had scoured

only one sector, and was entering another when he heard the

sounds of battle. As he ran towards the source of the noise

he recognised Kedin"s voice.

He drew his sword as he approached the junction. He

advanced more cautiously, keeping close to the side of the

passageway. He wanted to find out what was happening

before he became involved, and he knew better than to draw

attention to himself. Information and surprise were often

more important than strength of numbers.

The escapers from hold twelve had cornered Kedin. They

looked desperate and half-starved, Madok thought, but there

were enough of them to take Kedin down if they attacked

together. Kedin was holding them off with his sword-point

and a lecture on the futility of violence.

At Kedin"s side, Madok noted, lashing out at the escapers

with booted feet and a smooth wooden staff, was a young

man dressed in black. Madok had never seen him before.

Not a young man. A young woman. Madok stared. She was

giving a good account of herself, parrying and thrusting and

kicking without much finesse, in Madok"s opinion, but

effectively and with enthusiasm. It was clear that together

Kedin and his unknown ally hardly needed any assistance.

Madok shouted to Kedin; Kedin replied. With his sword

raised before him Madok advanced towards the skirmish. The

escapers fell back.

The young woman was grinning at the retreating attackers.

She planted the tip of her staff on the floor and rested her

fists on the end of the handle. She looked every inch a

fighter.

Madok realised he was staring at her, and looked away. A

woman fighter, he thought; that"s a rare sight these days.

And she"d been trained in martial disciplines that were

unknown to him. Where could she be from? One of the barely

civilized manors in the icy south, perhaps. And what was she

doing here, on the space station? She was an enigma. Madok

determined to find out everything he could about her.

The escapers were fleeing now. As Madok stepped up to

greet Kedin both men sheathed their swords.

Madok saluted. „Well, my lord. I"ve been to the planet, I"ve

endured the hospitality of our enemy, and I"ve returned safely

with the cargo. You, on the other hand, can"t go for a short

stroll in your own space station without getting into a fight."

„Oh, it was nothing, Madok. A misunderstanding. I"m sure I

would have been able to make them see sense." As usual

Kedin"s tone was languid. Madok noticed that there was not

one bead of perspiration, not even a hint of a flush of

excitement, on Kedin"s face.

„You had help, Kedin," Madok said, turning towards the

young woman. She was looking at them with keen, intelligent

eyes. She didn"t seem a bit daunted by the presence of two

military officers, one of them the foremost of the nobility.

Damn it, she was a handsome young thing, too. Heavens, but

she was immodestly dressed: trousers, and tightly fitting, too.

Her black jacket had the quality of reflecting shimmering

light; it was embroidered with badges, sigils and meaningless

groups of words.

„Ah, yes," Kedin drawled. „Madok, you haven"t met my

rescuer, have you? Well, neither have I." He turned to the

young woman. Madok saw her look up at him. Their eyes

met. He saw her lips part and her pupils enlarge. Kedin never

failed to have that effect on women. How did he do it?

„Madok, introduce me."

Madok cleared his throat. Allow me to introduce Kedin

Ashar, Lord of the Skies, First Lord of the Vanguard,

Councillor-in-chief to his majestic highness King Vethran."

„Hello," the young woman said, I"m Ace." She held out her

right hand towards Kedin.

Madok was struck dumb. Was the girl deaf? Or stupid? The

honorific name alone was enough to indicate Kedin"s rank.

His titles demanded that she lower her head, at least. Most

would consider it proper to kneel.

Kedin, also, was speechless. Then Madok saw the corners

of his lips twitch, and his face lit up in a smile that became a

gale of helpless laughter. Madok hadn"t seen his lord as

genuinely diverted as this for many months.

The woman called Ace frowned. Evidently she didn"t like

being laughed at. Her hand was still extended. „What"s so

funny?" she said belligerently.

„Nothing whatsoever," Kedin assured her. To Madok"s

amazement he took her hand and shook it, as if the two of

them were equals. „I apologise for my appalling manners.

Thank you for coming to my aid." He brought her hand to his

lips and kissed her fingers. „You have a fearless heart, young

lady. And it"s just “Ace”? You have no other names or titles?

You make me feel very suddenly over-endowed."

Madok saw Ace"s eyebrows lift. She hadn"t missed the

innuendo. There were times when Madok despaired of Kedin.

To be flirting at a time like this.

„Just Ace," she replied. „I like to travel light."

„And if you wouldn"t mind satisfying my curiosity," Kedin

said, „where exactly have you travelled from?"

Ace grinned, and Madok knew that Kedin wouldn"t get a

straight answer. „Everyone asks me that," Ace said. „It sounds

like a simple question, but you wouldn"t believe how difficult

it is to come up with a plausible answer. Ask me something

else."

Kedin laughed. „Would you like to join me and my officers

for a meal?" he asked. „I warn you, I"ll spend the whole time

interrogating you."

„OK," Ace said with a shrug. „I"m starved, as it happens. So

lead me to the mess hall. Who"s your friend, by the way?"

„How remiss of me," Kedin cried. „Ace, may I present Madok,

my chief aide, my right hand, my stalwart companion-in-

arms, my conscience and my friend."

Madok"s heart leapt in his chest as Ace"s dark brown eyes

met his gaze. He felt his face starting to blush. „I"m delighted

to meet you," he said, trying to invest the trite words with

particular sincerity. Her hand was cool and strong when he

held it.

„Same here," she said.

The touch of her fingers; the smile on her wide lips; the

dark intensity of her look. All sweet; all fleeting. Once again

she was attending to Kedin.

„You must have a title," Kedin declared. He bent to inspect

the smooth, tapering staff with which Ace had helped to

defend him. „Ace of clubs, perhaps?" His eyes were positively

twinkling with mirth. He offered his elbow for Ace to rest her

hand on. „Or Ace of hearts?" he added, in a deeply significant

tone that was immediately belied by the covert wink he

directed to Madok.

Madok smiled and shook his head. Kedin expected women

to be drawn to him. He hardly knew how not to flirt. And the

signal to Madok was intended as an indication that Kedin

was going to use his wiles to extract information from this

mysterious young lady.

Nonetheless Madok"s spirits slumped as he fell in behind

Kedin and Ace. He saw her hand resting on Kedin"s sleeve; he

saw her face looking up at Kedin"s as they bantered.

„It"s Ace of here, there and everywhere, actually," she said.

„Do you know," she added, „you look just like somebody

famous."

„Really?" Kedin replied. „Even more famous than me?"

„Loads more. Have you ever seen a movie called Withnail

and I?’

Kedin"s face was a masterpiece of conspiratorial intrigue.

„Possibly," he murmured. „Tell me: what exactly is a movie?"

Ace laughed. „Never mind."

As the sun descended the room gradually filled with yellow

incandescence. The long dusk was beginning. Soon, Bep-Wor

told himself, he would have to venture outside. He would

have to scavenge for food.

He watched bands of colour - orange, scarlet, ochre -

stretch across the horizon. It was a spectacular sunset. He

could see it clearly, as the back wall of the room had

disappeared, had been smashed and scattered, and was now

no more than a jagged hole and a pile of sand-coloured

bricks.

On the patio, just beyond the wreckage, Bep-Wor used to

like to watch the sun go down. After working in the fields

he"d sit there, with a tankard of beer in his hand, listening to

the chirruping of the insects. Listening to the sounds coming

from the house. The sounds from the kitchen. Pots and

plates rattling. Sizzling oil. Her voice.

Kia-Ga.

He shook his head violently. Everything reminded him of

her. He gasped a silent, bitter laugh. There was, after all,

nothing left: everything was broken, shattered, turned to ash

and rubble. The bed they had shared was now charcoal. Her

paintings were slashed and trampled. The flower garden had

been crushed. There was nothing left, but still he couldn"t

forget. Even the beauty of the sunset reminded him of her.

He blinked. He must not cry. There was no use in crying.

He"d wept enough.

But he would never forgive himself for being away from

home when the invaders came. He tortured himself by

imagining her suffering. She didn"t even know that he had

survived. She would probably never know.

It was no use. Bep-Wor howled silently, his face contorted.

How could he still have tears left in him? He felt the hot

drops roll down his cheeks. Salty on his lips. Why did he

bother to live any longer?

He heard a noise. Nothing natural. Like nothing he had

heard before. A metallic groaning, the sound ebbing and

flowing like waves on shingle. But getting louder. Getting

closer.

It could only be the invaders. One of their infernal

machines. Bep-Wor"s hand closed around the handle of the

pitchfork he carried with him when he went outside. It was

useless against the machines and the weapons of the enemy,

but it was all he had. He wiped his eyes and pulled himself

from the floor. He picked his way silently across the fallen

masonry.

Having risen to crescendo, until it sounded like a storm at

sea, the strange sound had ceased. Bep-Wor could hear

nothing: no sounds of soldiers marching; no voices; no

machines. Holding the pitchfork before him, he stepped

through the ruined side of his house.

Crouching, he scuttled to the low wall that surrounded his

property. There were still no sounds. He lifted his head.

He knew what he would see. But he could not get used to

it. At this time of day the village square would have been

crowded with people, promenading in front of the neat,

whitewashed houses and taking glasses of sweet tea in the

two cafes. His neighbours. His friends.

All gone.

Some of the houses were still standing, their doors and

windows gaping; others were no more than heaps of brick

and timber. The slanting, golden sunlight was all that

seemed familiar.

But this evening something had changed again. In the

centre of the square, standing slightly askew on the rubble-

strewn flagstones, there was a blue hut. At the apex of its

sloping roof a lantern flashed. Its door stood open.

Bep-Wor struggled to understand what the structure was,

and how it could have been placed in the square without him

hearing the sounds of its construction. It looked nothing like

the flying machines of the invaders, but Bep-Wor could

imagine only that it had dropped from the sky.

He cursed. Soldiers from inside the hut must already be in

the village, patrolling stealthily. Had he been seen when he

last made a foray to find food? Had the blue hut been sent

specifically to find him? He had to retreat into the house and

lie low. He could go hungry for one more night.

He was about to scramble back to the house when he saw

the man.

The stranger - not a soldier, Bep-Wor saw that at once -

was sitting, motionless, in the long black shadow cast by the

hut. He had his elbows resting on his knees, and his head

cradled in his hands. He looked utterly miserable.

Ace hadn"t expected to find the space station manned by

sword-wielding chaps dressed like extras from The Charge of

the Light Brigade, but she"d seen plenty of weird things in her

time and she wasn"t going to let her surprise show.

She was finding it more difficult to ignore the presence of

Kedin Ashar: he was obviously the head honcho, what with

his minions bowing and scraping all round him, and he was

tall, skinny, resplendent in his uniform, very cool and very

sexy. And he wouldn"t stop chatting her up.

It was all very distracting. Ace had realised that whatever

the space station was being used for, it wasn"t a thriving

trading post. So much for the Doctor"s projections of

probability. The only people she saw as Kedin showed her

round were soldiers, all of them belonging to Kedin"s

battalion, or regiment, or whatever it was. And they were all

men.

The only women she"d seen had been among the gang that

had attacked Kedin. And that was another odd thing: Kedin

hadn"t explained why he"d been mugged, and managed to

change the subject whenever Ace tried to ask.

„You men can return to your stations," Kedin said over his

shoulder to the troop of soldiers who had followed them

throughout the tour. Ace had wondered all along why it was

necessary to have a bodyguard.

„I must show you the observatory," Kedin said, guiding her

with his hand on her shoulder.

That kind of thing normally freaked her out, but she had to

admit that she liked the touch of Kedin"s hands. It made her

feel shivery. Not nasty shivery: nice shivery. Very nice. „Then

you will have seen everything," he concluded.

The exciting proximity of Kedin"s slim body wasn"t enough

to make Ace fall for that line, however. She had a pretty good

idea of the size of the station, and she knew she hadn"t seen

the half of it. The design of the place suggested that there

must be large storage holds: Kedin hadn"t shown her even

one. Nor had he taken her to the docking bays or to the main

control room. He had something to hide.

Well, Ace said to herself, if he fancies me I can use that to

find out what"s going on here. I"ll just turn on my irresistible

allure. He"ll be eating out of my hand.

They were alone together now, standing in front of a closed

door marked OBSERVATORY. Ace didn"t move aside when

Kedin reached past her to pull down the emergency door

lever.

They haven"t worked out how to use the electronic systems,

Ace realised as she allowed herself to sway forward slightly,

bringing the front of her T-shirt into soft contact with the

back of Kedin"s arm.

The door slid open. Ace didn"t move, but remained standing

in the doorway. She glanced over her shoulder at Kedin.

Now let"s see him make his move, she thought. I suppose I

ought to put up a bit of resistance when he does. I think I"m

going to enjoy this Mata Hari stuff.

But Kedin didn"t touch her. He stepped back, coughed

discreetly, and made an elegant gesture indicating that Ace

was welcome to precede him through the doorway.

Cursing inwardly, Ace smiled at him and walked ahead.

Ace couldn"t understand it. The way he"d been acting, she"d

thought he"d try to get physical as soon as he had her alone.

Maybe it had all been an act, to impress his men. But he

didn"t seem the kind of bloke who needed to impress anyone.

„Prepare yourself for a shock," Kedin said from behind her

as she approached the end of the short corridor. „I"ve known

battle-hardened troopers to turn queasy when they first see

the panorama of the stars."

„Don"t worry about me," Ace said, and stepped from the

mouth of the corridor into the transparent bubble beyond.

She didn"t recognise the constellations, but she hadn"t

expected to. Every time she gazed up at an alien night sky

she felt a pang of homesickness: it wasn"t that she wanted to

return to Earth, but she was assailed by a realization of how

far away she was from her home world.

The sun of the Mendeb system, along with Mendeb Two,

was out of sight, presumably on the opposite side of the

space station. Mendeb Three was visible, however: a globe a

little smaller than the Moon seen from Earth, brilliantly white

in the full glare of the sun. Ace could see the corona of

atmosphere around the planet, and within it swirls and lines

of clouds.

Kedin exhaled a deep breath. „That"s my home," he said.

Ace looked at him. He was staring at the planet. His face

was set. His eyes were glittering. He looked sad and noble.

„One day," he added, „I"ll be able to return."

Kedin"s an exile, Ace thought. That"s really romantic.

He turned to Ace. His mouth was once again wearing its

quirky smile. He gestured grandly at the heavens. „And where

is your home, Ace?"

Now that"s a good question, Ace said to herself. I"m damned

if I know the answer, these days. But I"d better tell him

something. He"s obviously worked out that I"m not from these

parts. He probably wants to get his hands on the rocketship

he assumes I used to get here. Better not say I"m from Earth,

though - he"s probably heard of it, and I don"t know whether

that"s good or bad.

„I come from a world that"s somewhere in that lot," Ace said,

pointing to the glittering swathe of stars that made up the

Milky Way. „Place called Perivale."

„Ah," Kedin said. „I see."

He looked completely mystified.

An hour later, the man was still sitting by his blue hut with

his head in his hands.

Bep-Wor was still watching him, and still trying to decide

whether he was one of the enemy. He wasn"t in uniform: in

fact his clothes looked almost as worn and untidy as Bep-

Wor"s. Perhaps he might prove to be an ally. At the very least

he might have food in his hut. And he seemed to be alone.

Bep-Wor climbed over the wall. The man didn"t notice him.

Keeping within the long shadows, Bep-Wor crept round the

sides of the square until he was at the closest point to the

hut. Then he had no choice but to make a break into the

open. He sprinted across the sun-streaked flagstones.

The man had heard his footsteps. As he reached the hut,

the man appeared round one of its corners. Bep-Wor lifted

his pitchfork to keep the man at a distance.

The man raised his arms and showed his empty hands.

„Don"t be alarmed," he said. „I"m not dangerous. I"m the

Doctor. Who are you?"

Bep-Wor was confused. A doctor? But the man had said the

Doctor. As if Bep-Wor should have heard of him. He was a

short, slight man. His eyes were bright and unnervingly

piercing, but he was smiling. For some reason Bep-Wor

thought he could trust him. He lowered the pitchfork. „My

name is Bep-Wor. This is my village. Was my village."

„What happened here?" the Doctor said, as if he was

completely unaware of the invasion.

This wasn"t the time to explain. „We can"t stay here," Bep-

Wor said. „A patrol could come through at any time. We must

take cover. But first, do you have food? I haven"t eaten for

two days."

„Of course," the Doctor said. „Come into the TARDIS. No:

wait." The Doctor looked at Bep-Wor searchingly. „Stay here,"

the Doctor said. „You"ve had enough shocks recently, I can

see that. I"ll be back in a trice."

The Doctor disappeared through the doorway of his hut. It

sounded to Bep-Wor as though the Doctor"s footsteps were

receding into the distance: as if the inside of the hut was a

large, empty space. He shook his head. He decided he must

have become delirious with hunger.

Suddenly the Doctor was emerging from the dark interior.

He pulled the door closed behind him. Bep-Wor saw that he

was carrying a small silver flask.

„Food," Bep-Wor said. „I need food, not drink."

The Doctor grinned. He looked very pleased with himself.

„Just try a drop of this," he said. „It"s really quite

extraordinarily nutritious." He proffered the flask.

Now Bep-Wor was very suspicious. There had been

rumours that the invaders pacified their captives with

drugged drinks.

„It"s perfectly safe," the Doctor said. A note of impatience

had entered his voice. „Look, I"ll have some myself."

He unscrewed the stopper and lifted the flask to his lips.

He drank.

„Don"t drink it all," Bep-Wor said urgently. The Doctor had

surely drained the bottle. Perhaps the Doctor was mad.

„Don"t worry," the Doctor said with a crafty look. „There"s

plenty left. It"s on a permanent link to the food synthesiser."

Bep-Wor had no idea what the Doctor was talking about. If

he wasn"t mad, he was certainly very strange. But the flask

felt full in his hands, and when he brought it to his mouth he

first smelt, and then tasted, a rich, warm aromatic broth that

seemed to satisfy his aching gut even as the first mouthful

entered his throat. He took gulps of the thick fluid, until he

felt a hand pressing on his.

„That"s enough for now," the Doctor said. „It is full of

nutrients. Don"t overdo it."

„Thank you, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. He handed back the

flask, and as he did so he heard the distant droning of a

machine. The doctor"s head was cocked: he had heard it too.

„Run!" Bep-Wor said. „It"s a flying machine. This way." He

made for the side of the square, pausing only to make sure

that the Doctor was following him. He realised that he felt

stronger than he had for a week: the Doctor"s flask contained

a remarkably potent broth. The Doctor, too, could move

surprisingly quickly, and both men were crouching behind

the tumbled wall of Bep-Wor"s house when the flying

machine came into sight.

It was flying low, and the clatter of its engine was

thunderous. Bep-Wor could see the flashing circle made by

the whirling blades at the front of the machine. But for the

noise it would have seemed as graceful as a bird as it

swooped and circled over the square. The man sitting in the

machine, his helmeted head visible above the metal flanks,

had seen the Doctor"s blue hut. Bep-Wor was certain that

soldiers would be sent to investigate.

The Doctor was talking to himself. Bep-Wor heard him say,

„Surprisingly primitive construction."

The engine roared louder as the machine curved upwards

through the air and pulled away from the village.

„Primitive?" Bep-Wor said. „Doctor, there are men in those

machines. They can fly faster than any bird. They drop

packages of explosives. Look around you. See what they can

do."

„Who are they, Bep-Wor? Who are the people who destroyed

your village?" The Doctor"s expression was intense, almost

fearful.

When the invaders had attacked the village Bep-Wor had

been at sea. There had been rumours of a war in the Links,

the line of islands that trailed southwards beyond Big Hook

Island; a trader, known for his liking for beer, had said he"d

seen machines in the sky. But no one expected the invaders.

There had been no reason at all why Bep-Wor should have

refused his brother, who needed an extra hand on the fishing

boat.

And while he was at sea - while he was enjoying the salty

air and the easy comradeship of his brother"s crew - the

invaders had come.

Kia-Ga. Where was she now?

Bep-Wor shook his head and sniffed back his tears. „I don"t

know," he said.

The Doctor persisted. „Are they from one of the other

islands?"

„No. Of course not." Bep-Wor was certain of that. His

brother fished the waters from one side of the archipelago to

the other. He would have known if any of the islands had

started to build machines such as the invaders possessed.

Everyone would have known.

„What about the people who live in the south polar region?

Could it be them?"

Bep-Wor had considered the possibility many times. „The

southerners? Perhaps," he said. „But our leaders used to talk

to their leaders. They live as we do, as far as we can tell. I

never heard that they could fly in machines. We had a device,

on Windsweep Island, that carried our voices to them and

theirs to us. It stopped working a few years ago."

„I know," the Doctor said. He looked unhappy. „That was my

fault, I think. And so, maybe, is all of this." His sad eyes

scanned slowly across the ruined village.

Bep-Wor didn"t understand. He still wasn"t sure whether

the Doctor was in his right mind. „I"ve seen soldiers marching

through here," he said. „I"ve met a few people from nearby

villages, too. There"s a rumour that the invaders don"t come

from this world at all; that they just dropped out of the sky."

Bep-Wor expected the Doctor to ridicule his story. But the

Doctor merely nodded with resignation, as if his worst fears

had been confirmed. „Well," he said, „I won"t find out what"s

going on if I stay here. I"d better be on my way."

„To where?" Bep-Wor said.

„To find the invaders, of course. I have to determine who

they are. Then, somehow or other, I must put things right.

And of course there"s always Ace to worry about." A look of

anguish crossed his face. „I seem to have made a spectacular

hash of things this time."

Bep-Wor wondered whether Ace was the Doctor"s woman.

And how the Doctor thought he could put things right. The

strange thing was that Bep-Wor almost believed that the

Doctor could do it. He was just one man, and not any sort of

soldier, but Bep-Wor trusted him. The invaders had taken

Kia-Ga. Perhaps the Doctor could find her.

He realised he was being pitifully hopeful. But the arrival of

the Doctor seemed like a good omen.

„The invaders came from that direction," Bep-Wor said,

pointing south-east. „They went north. I think some are still

on the island. If we head northwards we"ll find them. Or

they"ll find us."

„We?" the Doctor said. „Us?"

„I"m coming with you." Bep-Wor looked around at his

shattered home. „I"ve nothing to stay for."

Madok didn"t like it. It was unseemly to hide in a young

woman"s quarters; it was worse to participate in playing a

trick on her. He doubted whether Ace would be fooled,

anyway: she was inquisitive, certainly, but it seemed unlikely

that replacing the sign saying ESCAPE POD with one saying

WEAPONS ROOM would be enough to entice her through the

small door in the corner of her cabin.

„She won"t be able to resist it," Kedin had assured him.

„You"d be amazed at the things that girl"s interested in. And

she"ll be quite safe: after all, you"ll be there to switch the

controls to automatic if she really can"t handle it."

And so Madok waited, crouching in the darkness,

uncomfortably constricted in the narrow space behind the

single seat.

He heard voices: Kedin and Ace.

„I"m afraid this is the best I can offer you," Kedin said. His

voice sounded thin and distant, even though the pod"s door

was slightly ajar. „It"s not the most luxurious of

accommodation."

„I"ve had worse," Ace said.

Neither of them spoke for a while. As the silence extended

Madok imagined Kedin pulling Ace into his arms. Touching

her face. Kissing her. It was too much to bear.

„Yes, that"s all pretty much as I expected," Ace said. Her

voice was louder than Kedin"s. She had moved near to the

door.

„Hello," she said, her voice sharp with surprise. „What"s

this? Weapons? That"s not likely, is it? This is a pressure-

sealed door."

Light spilled into the pod as the outer door opened. Madok

willed himself to keep still and silent as Ace crossed the

threshold of the inner door.

„This is an escape pod," she called over her shoulder to

Kedin. „You know, like a lifeboat on a ship." As she finished

the sentence Madok heard the outer door swing into its frame

with a heavy thud.

„Oi!" Ace shouted.

At the same time Kedin"s voice came weakly through the

closed door. He was, Madok had to admit, making a good job

of sounding close to panic.

„Great heavens," he cried, „the door"s closed itself. I don"t

know what"s going on. Don"t worry, Ace. I"ll get you out. I"ll

open the door. There must be a lever that will work it. Ah! I"ll

try this one."

„Hold it!" Ace yelled, but communication with Kedin was cut

off as the inner door slid shut. Madok peeked from behind

the seat and saw Ace jump back to avoid being crushed.

„Bloody hell," Ace said. She seemed more irritated than

frightened.

„Emergency escape activated," a woman"s voice calmly

intoned. Madok almost leapt from his hiding-place in

surprise. „Lift-off in ten seconds. Secure the seat straps."

The voice belonged to the escape pod itself, Madok realised.

Some of the troopers on the station had told him of hearing

the ghostly voice of a woman: it was said to warn of danger.

Madok knew that the explanation had to be technological,

not supernatural. It was possible to send a voice across

thousands of kilometres: every one of Kedin"s military units

had a radio set and a man trained to operate it. And it was

possible to make a recording of a human voice. It wasn"t far-

fetched, therefore, to imagine a recorded message that turned

itself on automatically. There was so much still to rediscover,

despite the great strides that Kedin and Tevana had made.

„Bloody, bloody hell," Ace said vehemently as she strapped

herself into the seat. „I just hope these controls are still

working. I"ll bet this thing hasn"t been serviced for a good few

hundred years."

„Five," said the voice of the escape pod, four."

Madok peered over Ace"s shoulder. She was scanning the

boards, alight with flickering dials, that surrounded her.

„Life support"s OK, that"s the main thing," she said to

herself. „Now, I must be able to pull up a graphic display.

What about this?"

Madok almost gasped with surprise as a large blank area in

the centre of the banks of controls burst into life. It looked

like a swirling mist of colours.

„One," said the voice of the escape pod, „lift-off."

Madok hunched into a ball. He felt the floor vibrate. A

screaming roar filled his ears. His shaking body was pressed

against the back of Ace"s seat. He felt sick.

It went on for several minutes.

„Urgh," he heard Ace say. Evidently the acceleration had

been scarcely more comfortable for her.

He risked lifting his head again. Ace was still concentrating

on the controls. The swirling slate of colours suddenly made

sense to him: it was a picture. There was the vast, complex

mass of the space station, exactly as he saw it from his scout

ship; there, a tiny sliver of light drifting away from the

station, was the escape pod.

„Thrusters," Ace said, pensively. „I wonder." Tentatively she

pressed a button. Madok saw the tiny representation of the

pod begin to veer upwards.

„Brilliant!" Ace exclaimed. „This is a doddle. Now if I can just

identify a docking bay, I"ll bring this thing in."

Madok watched in admiration as Ace studied the moving

picture, consulted the controls, and operated the thrusters to

steer the pod towards the nearest docking bay.

„I wonder how I get the doors open," Ace muttered as the

pod floated ever closer to the metal shutters.

As Madok suspected, she didn"t have to worry about it.

„Docking procedures initiated," said the voice of the pod, and

in the picture on the screen the shutters began to part.

A row of lights had flashed on in front of Ace. „All systems

to automatic," the voice of the pod said.

Ace uttered a murmur of disappointment. „Oh well," she

said, „I can put my feet up." And, to Madok"s surprise, she did

so.

„Now then," Ace said to herself, „what was all that about?

That Kedin"s a crafty old sod. Charming and very horny, but

definitely crafty with it. I suppose he"s trying to find out how

much I know about all this futuristic technology. It"s obvious

he hasn"t got the hang of all of it. I just wish I knew what he

was up to on this godforsaken space station."

My lady, Madok prayed fervently, I hope you never find out.

By the time the pod had landed and the docking bay had

refilled itself with air, Madok had been crouched behind the

seat for so long that his muscles were knotted and he had to

grit his teeth to prevent himself crying out in pain. However,

Ace remained unaware of his presence, and he allowed

himself the luxury of movement only when the pod"s door

was open and he was sure she had disembarked.

Kedin was in the bay"s control room. Madok could hear his

voice as he greeted Ace.

„Ace, thank the heavens you"re safe," Kedin said. „I"ve

worried myself into an apoplexy. It"s all my fault. How can

you ever forgive me? And how the deuce did you bring

yourself back?"

„I was very, very scared," Ace said. Madok could imagine her

big, dark eyes gazing up at Kedin"s face. He couldn"t prevent

himself imagining Kedin"s sympathetic arm resting on her

shoulders. „I didn"t have a clue what to do. I think it all works

automatically. I just sort of found myself back here. I"m so

glad to be back - with you."

Madok smiled. Ace was managing to invest her words with

a quivering emotion that was almost convincing. She really

was a splendid young woman.

But it wouldn"t work, of course. If she succeeded in fooling

Kedin, which was in any case unlikely, he wouldn"t remain

fooled for long. Madok had seen Ace piloting the escape pod,

and it was clear that she knew more than Kedin did about

the technology of the space station.

Kedin would consider her useful. He would encourage her

to stay. And that was all that Madok wished for.

They walked, keeping close to the banks of hedge-ferns and

hurrying between copses of broadleaves, until the sun was a

vast golden ball melting across the horizon. Then they found

shelter in an isolated barn, and Bep-Wor slept for the few

hours of half-darkness.

When he woke he felt refreshed and full of hope. He found

the Doctor sitting in the doorway of the barn, staring into the

distance. Bep-Wor wondered whether the Doctor had slept at

all. The Doctor looked up and said, „Hello." Bep-Wor nodded.

They remained together in silence.

The world seemed to be at peace. The fields were freshly

green, and full of the chirruping of insects. Stands of giant

fern cast long, undulating shadows. In the distance, in the

gaps between the tawny hills, the sea sparkled.

Bep-Wor could almost believe that it had all been a dream.

That there had been no invaders, no damage. He knew he

was deceiving himself, but the clear dawn light at least

painted the world in optimistic colours. At last he had things

to do, and the energy to do them: he would help the Doctor,

and he would search for Kia-Ga. He had a purpose.

His good humour lasted until they reached Porgum. They

had found a mule not far from the barn: it approached them,

having no doubt seen no other people for many days. Once it

had tasted the Doctor"s broth it allowed itself to be ridden.

The Doctor and Bep-Wor took it in turns to rest their feet,

and they made good progress. Only once were they obliged to

dive into a ditch to avoid being seen by one of the flying

machines.

As they approached Porgum, however, Bep-Wor"s new-

found determination and cheer withered. As the mule jolted

him from side to side he could see the signs of destruction:

roofs torn open, columns of smoke rising into the air.

Porgum was the nearest settlement northwards from Bep-

Wor"s own village: a large, thriving place with a mercantile

quarter, well-stocked shops, and a weekly grain and flour

market that served the entire island. The annual music

festival drew crowds from all over the archipelago.

There was nothing to say. The mule trudged onwards with

the Doctor holding its halter, and with each step it became

more and more obvious that Porgum had been devastated.

All too soon they were walking between the wrecked

houses, picking their way round piles of tumbled masonry

and smouldering fires.

The only sound was the clop of the mule"s hooves. The

town was deserted.

Bep-Wor scanned the skies. He told himself he was keeping

a look-out for flying machines, but the truth was that he

couldn"t look at the scarred houses. The Doctor, he thought,

was inquisitive enough for both of them: the strange little

man, his face grim, peered along every choked alleyway and

through every smashed wall.

„Bep-Wor," the Doctor said at last, as they left behind the

last ruined villa on the outskirts of the town, „I saw no

bodies. It looks like the aftermath of a battle, but there are no

bodies."

At first Bep-Wor failed to understand the meaning of the

Doctor"s words. When he understood, he was appalled. His

stomach lurched and he felt nauseous. „Bodies?" he said.

„You mean dead bodies? You think the invaders have killed

people?" Could the invaders have killed Kia-Ga? It made no

sense.

„I"m afraid it"s not uncommon,’ the Doctor said. „It"s the way

invaders behave. And your people could have killed some of

the invaders, as you defended yourselves."

Bep-Wor barked a short laugh. „Defend ourselves? Doctor,

we have no defence against the invaders" machines. You"ve

seen the flying machine. You"ve seen the damage caused by

the explosives. The invaders come, and the people run before

them. They herd us like cattle."

The Doctor"s keen gaze roved across the skyline of broken

rooftops. „So the invaders destroy the houses after all the

inhabitants have fled?" he said.

„Yes, of course." Bep-Wor had thought the Doctor

understood that already. „I watched them destroy my village."

The Doctor nodded, but he looked perplexed. „Let"s

continue on our way," he said. „I want to find these invaders

and have a stern word with them."

Bep-Wor insisted that the Doctor should take a turn riding

the mule. Bep-Wor walked. They emerged from the northern

outskirts of Porgum. Bep-Wor felt his spirits lift a little as

they left behind the ruined town and found themselves

trudging through small fields planted with sourwheat and

squashes.

They were on higher ground, among thickets of tall ferns,

when Bep-Wor noticed that the Doctor was listening to

something. He had his hand cupped at his ear. They were

approaching the edge of the plantation when Bep-Wor heard

it: the sound of machines.

„Proceed cautiously," the Doctor said. „Don"t go into the

open."

They stopped in the shade of the last spinney of ferns, and

looked down into the flat valley below. Spike-grass and

recumbent ferns covered most of the landscape in shades of

green, rippling in the breeze. Here and there fields had been

marked out and planted: winding tracks led from the fields to

the road which descended from the tree-ferns and stretched

away into the distance.

And in the middle of the valley, next to the road, the land

was scarred and seared brown. A vast metal machine, the

size and shape of a bow-roofed barn, stood in the middle of

the burnt area. Nearby, and looking insubstantial alongside

the big structure, were four flying machines. Still smaller

machines, some of which Bep-Wor recognised as weapons

which threw explosives, were drawn up in lines on a field

between the burnt area and the hill on which Bep-Wor was

standing. Other machines had wheels, and some of these

were moving along the field-tracks and the main road. Bep-

Wor realised that it was the movement of the wheeled

machines that created the insistent racket.

„Internal combustion engines," the Doctor said. „Propeller

aircraft, armoured cars. Field guns." He turned to Bep-Wor.

„Your people have none of these?"

„No." Bep-Wor felt defensive. Should he be ashamed? Of

what? „What would we want with machines that can only

destroy?"

„Most humans I"ve encountered seem to want little else," the

Doctor said. „Look: there"s your enemy."

Bep-Wor shielded his eyes and squinted. He saw one tiny

figure, emerging from one of the wheeled machines. Then

three more, marching in a line along one of the tracks. The

sunlight caught on the polished metal buttons of their

uniforms. Now that he had seen a few he found it easy to see

others: marching in columns, standing in rows, swarming

around the machines.

„They"re definitely human," the Doctor said. He sounded

disappointed. „Why are they here? What do they want? Are

they just taking a delight in wanton destruction? Or is this

invasion a particularly brutal method of enforcing political

hegemony?"

Bep-Wor could hardly believe his ears. The Doctor still

hadn"t understood. „It"s worse than that, Doctor," he said. He

could feel tears welling once again in his eyes. „Look. Look:

on the road, next to the biggest machine."

The Doctor"s gaze followed Bep-Wor"s pointing finger. When

he saw the line of people, stretching to the horizon, he said,

„Oh, no."

„They"re collecting us, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. „Like animals.

They clear us from our towns and villages, and they destroy

our homes so that we have nowhere to live. They herd us,

round us up, and take us away."

Having retired to her quarters with the excuse that she was

upset - well, you would be, she thought, after being shot into

space in an escape pod - Ace had spent some time trying to

boot up the communications console.

It was no use: she couldn"t get the thing to work. It was

intensely frustrating. The system had power, and she could

get up the introductory screen. But the console in her cabin

seemed to be on a low security level, and she couldn"t get into

the system at a level high enough to kick it into life.

During her guided tour of the station Ace had noticed that

every screen she"d seen had been blank. It was obvious that

Kedin and his men hadn"t worked out how to use the

station"s communications system. Their knowledge of radio

technology was rudimentary: she"d spotted one of the soldiers

struggling to carry a wireless set the size of a suitcase.

The temptation to show off was almost irresistible. If

turning on the station"s communications couldn"t impress

Kedin, she was sure that a demonstration of the hologram

projector would blow his mind. And she badly wanted to get

Kedin"s undivided attention.

The only thing that stopped her sharing her knowledge

with Kedin was her nagging doubt about what he was doing

on the station. Who were those low-lifes that had attacked

him? Where had they come from? And why was Kedin being

so cagey?

And she had to admit that she was rather enjoying her

Mata Hari role. Kedin and Madok still had no idea where she

was from, and she intended to keep them guessing - at least

until she knew more about them.

When she"d finally given up on the communications

console, she"d thrown herself on the bed and stared at the

ceiling until she was thoroughly bored.

How long, she had asked herself, would it take for a

defenceless young woman, alone in a strange environment

and surrounded by grim-faced soldiers, to get over the shock

of being ejected into space in a box not much bigger than a

coffin?

No idea, she had answered herself. They probably expect

me to have the screaming ab-dabs for days on end. But if I

have to pretend to be having an attack of the vapours for

much longer I"ll go round the bend for real. I"ve had enough

of this. Time to go out for a snoop about.

She"d tiptoed scarcely five metres from her room when

Madok emerged from a side-corridor.

He"s been waiting for me, she thought. Damn.

Madok had been polite, concerned, and anxious to reassure

himself that she had recovered from her ordeal. However, no

matter how often Ace told him that she felt fine, he didn"t

leave her alone. So much for snooping.

It was particularly difficult to shake Madok off while she

was doing her vulnerable and feminine act. Madok lapped it

up, and was pathetically eager to look after her.

Madok was all right, Ace decided as he followed her

doggedly round the station. A regular bloke, once you got

past the bluster and the stiff formality. She noticed that he

was much more at ease talking to soldiers. He"s a military

man, she thought; a career officer. He probably hasn"t spent

much time in mixed company.

He was actually quite good-looking too. But too old for her.

And too stocky.

Ace laughed aloud when she realised that she was

comparing every man she met with Kedin. She had to

pretend she was coughing, and endure Madok"s anxious

enquiries about the delicacy of her health.

The fact was that no one measured up to Kedin"s score on

the dreaminess gauge. Ace wanted to see him again: when

she remembered his eyes the desire for him was physical,

like a sudden pang in her stomach.

And she wasn"t getting anything out of Madok, anyway. He

seemed desperate to please her, but he managed always to

evade difficult questions.

She"d found out that he and many others among Kedin"s

men could fly the ships that had been found in the station"s

docking bays. He admitted that he didn"t understand most of

the controls, and that he relied on the station"s automatic

systems to dock his ship. He was proud of the fact that he

could bring a ship in to land on a planet, though, and Ace

was genuinely impressed: it must have taken courage and

skill.

„That"s amazing, Madok," she said. „No, really, I mean it.

You must be ever so brave."

„It"s nothing," Madok said, but Ace noticed that his cheeks

had turned pink. „I"m sure you could do it, my lady."

Yes, probably, Ace thought. How difficult can it be? But I"m

not going to let you know it, mate. Even though it does mean

I have to keep up this helpless girly act.

„I wouldn"t have a clue," Ace said, and managed to produce

what she hoped was a fetching giggle. „And now I"m sure I"ve

taken up enough of your time. Didn"t Kedin say that he

wanted to see me again?"

„Yes, my lady, he did." Madok looked uncomfortable and

grumpy. „But only if you"re quite sure you"re feeling better."

„I"m sure I"ll be fine," Ace said, trying to look frail and wan.

„Where will I find him?"

Madok closed his eyes momentarily. „I believe he is in his

quarters, lady."

Oh, good, Ace thought. I"ll have him to myself at last. And

in his bedroom.

Madok, blushing furiously, was struggling to express

himself. „But I would quite understand, lady," he said, „if you

would prefer me to arrange an alternative rendezvous. I

appreciate your sensibilities. This station isn"t the most

civilised of places, but there are certain standards of

behaviour. What I mean is, my lord would not expect you to

do anything unseemly."

Ace had no idea what he was going on about. She was on

the point of blurting out an entirely inappropriate question

about Kedin"s usual behaviour with women when she

suddenly understood. Among these people it was considered

scandalous for a respectable woman, alone, to visit a man"s

room. That was all.

Well, actually, Ace thought, I hope that"s not all, in this

case.

But I can"t say that to Madok: he"d go purple in the face

and explode.

She laid her hand on his sleeve. „Kedin is an officer," she

said, „and, apparently, the foremost aristo on the planet. This

is a military post, and society"s rules don"t apply strictly here.

So I"m sure my reputation will be safe."

Madok seemed relieved. „In that case," he said, „I will

happily escort you."

„I can find my own way, you know," Ace said as she and

Madok set off.

„I don"t doubt it, my lady," Madok said. „But as you found

out for yourself, these corridors are not entirely safe."

„And that"s another thing," Ace said. „You and Kedin still

haven"t told me who those creeps were."

„Creeps?"

„The ones who attacked Kedin. You called them escapers."

„Mutineers," Madok said. „We had them incarcerated. They"ll

be recaptured soon."

„They weren"t wearing uniforms."

Madok appeared genuinely shocked. „Of course not."

It was almost plausible. Ace felt light-headed for a moment

as the clouds of suspicion she"d been harbouring began to

disperse. Maybe there was nothing untoward going on.

Kedin"s attackers were just criminals who"d escaped; large

areas of the space station were locked simply because

Kedin"s men didn"t need them, or hadn"t worked out how to

get into them; the distant, mournful voices were aural

illusions of the kind you could experience in an almost

disused warren of corridors.

Ace grinned. She"d spent too long with the Doctor. When he

was around everything had a sinister explanation. She"d

forgotten what normal life was like.

She turned to Madok and impulsively grabbed his arm. She

felt him flinch and then relax. „If you want to know where

your escaped mutineers are," she whispered, „why don"t you

use the cameras?"

Madok seemed at a loss for words. „Cameras?" he stuttered

at last.

Ace pointed to the ceiling. „See that little box up there?

With a glass eye? It can see what"s in the corridor, and show

you pictures of it. I"ll demonstrate later, if you like."

It was a relief not to have to pretend to be ignorant any

more.

They had reached Kedin"s quarters. The soldier on guard at

the door turned to stare at Ace. His eyes lit up and he gave

her a leering grin, which disappeared immediately when

Madok glared at him.

Madok gestured impatiently at the door. The soldier rapped

on it with the butt of his rifle.

A muffled voice called from beyond the sealed door. Madok

shouted his name. The voice replied indistinctly. Madok

tugged on the emergency door release handle.

They really need someone to tell them how to use this place

properly, Ace thought.

„So this is the captain"s cabin," Ace said as she stepped

through the doorway.

It was a suite of rooms. The main chamber was big, in Ace"s

opinion: accommodation was cramped on every other space

station she"d visited. Despite not being able to use the colour

and texture controls that Ace was sure were embedded in the

grey walls, Kedin had succeeded in importing his personality

and taste. The floor was covered in a carpet woven with a

complex pattern; animal skins were laid here and there over

the carpet. Tapestries covered most of the walls: a hunting

scene, a troop of cavalry on animals that weren"t horses, and

a huddle of naked nymphs bathing near a waterfall. The

furniture was large, heavy, generously upholstered, and well

supplied with cushions. A vast, polished desk dominated the

room.

Kedin wasn"t in sight, but Ace could hear him moving in

one of the other rooms.

Madok had followed Ace through the doorway. „Kedin

Ashar," he called out. „It"s Madok. I"ve brought Ace to see you."

„Excellent." Kedin"s voice came through one of the doors.

„Ace, please accept my apologies. I"m in the middle of a shave.

I"ll be able to give you my total attention in just a moment."

Ace caught a glimpse of him through a doorway. The glint

of a cut-throat razor; his naked torso. God, he had some

muscles on him. Sinewy, she thought: that was the word.

Ace wandered about the room. She admired the jewelled

scabbard and hilt of Kedin"s sword. She heard Madok"s

indrawn breath as she picked up and inspected a delicate

model of an old-fashioned rocket with swept-back fins and a

bulbous nose.

Probably priceless, she thought.

Madok seemed ill at ease. He paced back and forth with his

hands clasped behind his back. Several times Ace thought he

was about to speak to her.

Kedin bounded into the room. He was dressed now, but not

in full uniform: he had on soft suede boots, tight black

trousers, and a brilliantly white shirt. Ace stole a glance at

Madok. As she had expected, he was open-mouthed with

shock. She supposed he considered Kedin almost indecently

under-dressed. As for her, she was particularly happy with

the tight trousers and the open shirt. Even the boots were

sexy.

Kedin took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. „Ace,"

he said, „can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I can"t

believe I was so incompetent. I endangered your life. I can"t

express my relief at finding you unharmed. I trust you"ve had

sufficient time to rest and recuperate."

He looked up, and seemed to notice Madok for the first

time.

„Still here, Madok?" he said. He didn"t release Ace"s hands.

„At your service, my lord," Madok said.

Kedin glanced at Ace. Their eyes met. His seemed to

twinkle as he gave her a surreptitious smile.

„It"s all right, Madok," Ace said. „I don"t need a bodyguard

any more. I"m sure I"ll be safe with Kedin." She couldn"t stop

her fingers trembling. She was sure Kedin would notice.

„My lord?" Madok said.

„I don"t need protection either," Kedin said. „I"m sure Ace

won"t hurt me." He tightened his grip on her hands. „I can

manage, Madok."

Ace didn"t hear Madok leave. Her heart was thumping, and

she couldn"t pull her eyes from Kedin"s hawk-like face.

„Allow me to show you around my small domain," Kedin

said, retaining his hold on one of her hands. „I"ve decorated

the place as best I can. It reminds me of home. I hope you"ll

like it."

„It"s neat," Ace said. She didn"t trust herself to say much:

she was afraid her voice might come out all wobbly. She

couldn"t pretend to be an expert on men: that was the trouble

with growing up in the TARDIS and spending her time

battling evil aliens. But she sensed that behind Kedin"s

casual elegance and carefree banter he was concealing a deep

and tragic pain. It was all just too romantic.

„I insist that you tell me all about yourself," Kedin said,

„now that we"re alone together at last." He stopped suddenly

and turned to face her. He lifted his hand to her face and

touched her cheek. „I could make you talk, you know." His

expression was anxious - almost grim. „I won"t. I couldn"t

bear to do that to you."

„It"s OK," Ace said. She put her hand over his. „You won"t

have to get out the thumbscrews. I"m going to tell you."

„Ace," he murmured. And then his lips were touching hers,

and she pressed herself against him and returned his kisses.

„Um - oh dear," Kedin said after some time had passed.

„You"ve bewitched me, Ace. I don"t intend - that is, I have no

desire to compromise you, lady."

Ace placed a finger on his lips. „Hush. You were showing

me round, remember. Which one of these doors leads to the

bedroom, for instance?"

„Ah. It"s this one. Would you like to -?"

He was even more kissable when he was looking confused.

Hardly believing what she was doing, and with her legs

feeling like jelly, Ace made for the doorway he had indicated.

She entered a bedroom that was sumptuous and dark with

velvet and gold.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Kedin was

following her. She wanted to feel his hands touching her

again.

He was standing in the doorway with his eyes closed.

„Tevana, forgive me," she heard him say.

„Kedin," she said, „who"s Tevana?"

Kedin"s face broke into a grin. „She"s my personal goddess,"

he said, and scooped Ace up in his arms. „I think she"ll

forgive this transgression. I hope so." He kissed her, and

hugged her so tightly that she struggled for breath. „I think

you"d better say a prayer to your own deity, young lady.

You"re about to sin."

Madok sat and stared at the endless rows of glowing lights

and flickering numbers. He had thought that if he shut

himself in the station"s control room and concentrated on

trying to understand more of the bewildering array he would

be able to stop himself thinking about Ace. And Kedin. In

Kedin"s quarters.

He cursed himself for being a fool. The station"s controls

were almost entirely indecipherable: the winking lights

mocked him and refused to give up their secrets. Kedin"s

campaign would just have to proceed with the technology he

and Tevana had already researched, resurrected and refined.

Unless, of course, it turned out that Kedin could coax some

useful information out of Ace.

And there she was again, occupying the centre ground of

Madok"s thoughts. Her face seemed to be floating only inches

in front of his. Her large, dark, laughing eyes. Her broad,

sensuous mouth.

She was with Kedin.

The same thoughts marched round and round in his head.

He shook his head. He had to pull himself together.

I"m not fit to be a soldier, Madok told himself. Still less an

officer. I"m moping over a girl. I"m jealous of Kedin Ashar, a

nobler man than I"ll ever be, the lord to whom I"ve pledged my

service. I"m ungrateful and disloyal. No one could have

worked harder than Kedin, and still he strives and struggles,

despite the terrible threat hanging over him.

I can"t even help him to comprehend this station.

Madok could have wept with frustration and self-loathing.

He closed his eyes and slammed his fist into the nearest

bank of controls.

When he looked up one of the large, flat, blank areas was

alive with lights. Madok thought it must be a picture,

although he had no idea what was represented by the

convoluted lines.

And I don"t know how I created it, either, he said to himself.

He heard one of the doors slide open. He composed his face

before he swivelled his chair, but he couldn"t keep a note of

surprise out of his voice.

„Kedin! Are you all right?"

Kedin Ashar was leaning against the door. He was holding

his tunic slung over his shoulder, and his face was drawn.

„The things we have to do, Madok." He covered his eyes with

his hand. „I stayed with her as long as I could. It was as

though Tevana was in the room with us. I said I had duties to

attend to. I hope I wasn"t too abrupt."

There was only one thing that Madok wanted to know. „But

Kedin, did you -?" he began, and then realised that he

couldn"t possibly ask the question. „I"m sure you acted with

your usual courtesy and charm," he said.

Kedin grinned. „Oh yes," he said. „I think our pretty visitor

is satisfied with our hospitality. I"m no savage, Madok. I

made her welcome."

Madok"s felt his heart sink into his stomach. Somehow he

managed to smile. „And did your pillow talk with Ace include

any information that we can put to practical use?"

Kedin"s eyes lit up. „You wouldn"t believe the science that"s

locked away behind the walls of this space station, Madok. It

makes everything we"ve done up to now seem like - I don"t

know - crude building blocks piled up by children."

As usual Madok found himself refusing to be swept along

by his lord"s enthusiasm. „We can fly the ships we found

here," he pointed out. „They are propelled by rockets much

like the engines you and Tevana designed on the planet. The

people who built this station were not so very far ahead of

us."

„You know that"s not so," Kedin said. „You remember those

old data cores we used to study? All those technical terms

that were meaningless to us? Madok, there are whole

universes of physics that we haven"t dreamt of. There are

particles, smaller than atoms, that obey different physical

laws." He strode to the banks of controls and stretched out

his arms. And these lights and numbers and dials are

speaking to us, Madok, if we could but understand them.

They are the speech of the minds that control the station.

Yes, Madok, my sceptical old friend: artificial minds, made of

wires and as complex as a human brain."

„The voices," Madok said. „The warning voices that the men

say they hear. That I heard in the escape pod."

„Ace says that the station will speak to us. And that we can

speak to it. It will understand our instructions. She thinks

she can communicate with it and make it obey my

commands."

This was too much for Madok to find credible. „Can you be

sure of this, Kedin? After all, we know nothing of Ace. How

can she know the workings of devices that have defeated me,

and you, and our best technicians?"

„I believe her," Kedin said. „Although I confess that I have

been unable to discover any more about her origins, or her

reasons for being here. But she is, ah, enamoured of me,

Madok. I"m sure you"ve noticed it. She"ll help us." He stooped

in front of Madok"s chair and lowered his voice, as if there

were a danger of being overheard. „She knows about

weapons, my friend. She says there must be weapons stored

on the station. Weapons that make our guns and bombs look

like toys."

„That would certainly be useful," Madok said. He always

preferred to go into battle with every possible advantage. „It"s

one thing to scare the wits out of those poor farmers on the

other planet; quite another to invade our home world and

overthrow its ruler."

„Indeed." Kedin"s face once again showed the strain he was

under. „But we must do it, and soon. It"s the only way to stop

this vile trade and to rescue Tevana. And Ace will help us."

Madok put his hand on his lord"s shoulder. „Then we had

better be sure that she has no opportunity to find out what

we"re doing here," he said.

The mule was grazing on the hillside, not far from the ferny

hollow in which the Doctor and Bep-Wor were lying on their

stomachs. They had crept and slithered down the slope, and

were now close enough to the invaders to be able to see

clearly what they were doing.

It came as no surprise to Bep-Wor that the prisoners were

being herded into the cavernous belly of the domed machine.

The Doctor, however, seemed outraged.

„That"s a cargo pod," he spluttered. „It"s not meant for

passengers. Perhaps," he added pensively, „they"re just using

it as a prison. A holding pen. A refuge, even."

„I don"t know, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. „The invaders just

take us away. All of us, except the very old and infirm."

„But where, Bep-Wor? Where are the prisoners taken?"

Bep-Wor didn"t know. And the rumours he"d heard were

not believable. „I spoke to an old woman a few days ago," he

said.

„One who was rejected and turned away. I don"t know if her

words can be relied on. She was confused and frightened."

„That"s not surprising," the Doctor said. „What did she say?"

„She heard two of the soldiers speaking. They speak our

language, apparently, but strangely. She thought she could

understand them. They were joking about taking prisoners

away in the big machines - like that one, the one you call a

cargo pod. And she said they spoke of taking the prisoners

up into the sky."

„But did she find out the destination, Bep-Wor? Where are

the cargo pods taking your people?"

Bep-Wor hesitated. It seemed such a stupid thing to

suggest. He extended his arm. „You see that point of light,

just above the horizon? Far away in the skies. It glints like a

jewel. A daytime star."

The Doctor simply accepted the notion. In fact, it seemed to

confirm his worst fears. „The space station," he said. „And

that"s where I left Ace. I shudder to think what danger I"ve

placed her in."

The Doctor turned on to his back and stared up into the

skies. „Bep-Wor," he said, „I am an incompetent, bungling

Time Lord. So far I have done nothing right. I must try to

make amends. And I must rescue Ace."

He sat up, placed his hat on his head, and scanned the

hillside for the mule. He put two fingers into his mouth and

emitted a piercing whistle. The mule"s ears twitched, and it

began to pick its way toward the hollow.

„Doctor," Bep-Wor hissed urgently. „The invaders will hear

you. Keep down, out of sight."

„No, no," the Doctor said. He stood up, and waited for the

mule to reach him. „I"m going to turn myself in. If I hurry, I"ll

be able to join that batch of prisoners and get a ride to the

space station."

He hoisted himself on to the mule"s back and nudged the

animal"s flanks with his knees. Bep-Wor watched him as he

began an ungainly descent into the valley. He looked absurd.

He shifted from side to side with each step that the mule

took. He kept one hand on his head, to stop his hat blowing

off. He was small and defenceless, and he was heading

towards certain imprisonment. The invaders had no mercy.

As the Doctor rode away, Bep-Wor"s sense of purpose

evaporated. His home and his village were in ruins. Kia-Ga

had been taken. He had nothing to live for. But perhaps, if he

could reach the little jewel in the sky, he would be able to

find Kia-Ga. It was a tiny, futile hope, but it was the only

hope he had.

„Doctor," he called out. „Wait. I"m coming with you."

Ace was feeling very, very pleased with herself. She suspected

that if she looked in a mirror she would find her face wearing

a stupid, smug smile.

She hugged herself. I"ve definitely been too long in the

TARDIS, she thought. Too long with that grumpy old

Gallifreyan. I"d forgotten how much fun you can have with an

ordinary human male.

Suddenly restless, she began to wander through the suite

of rooms. Already she was missing Kedin: she found herself

wondering when he"d return.

She pulled aside a brocade curtain, stepped through the

doorway which it had been covering, and was in a small room

whose walls consisted of blank monitor screens. There was

just room to walk between the well-padded seat and the

control panels that surrounded it.

Now that"s more like it, Ace said to herself. This must be an

auxiliary control room. Not surprising, really. Kedin would

have the best quarters on the station, and I suppose the guy

who was in charge of the place when it was being run by TAM

would have had these rooms.

She settled herself in the chair and began studying the

banks of switches. There was a drawer below the console in

front of her. She pulled it out and found a QWERTY keyboard

and a mouse.

Blimey, she thought, that"s primitive. Emergency use only,

I should think, in case the interactive systems fail. She

touched the dusty plastic, and was assailed by a wave of

nostalgia for Earth.

She shook herself, and experimentally pressed a few keys.

The monitor in front of her crackled and hummed, and

displayed the same holding screen as she had been able to

call up on the comms console in her cabin.

Now then, she thought, let"s kick some life into these

communications. I must be able to get into the system from

here.

It was disappointingly simple. Ace had only to press a red

button, conveniently labelled Reset, for the station"s soothing

female voice to ask her, „Do you wish to reset the control

configuration?"

It took a little longer for Ace to persuade the computer that

she was the acting director of the space station, but once

she"d pointed out that several hundred years had passed

since the death of the previous director, the computer

realised the futility of requiring the previous director"s

authorization of Ace"s appointment as his successor. After

several minutes of conversation, the computer reluctantly

agreed to recognise Ace"s voice pattern as a sufficient

password to gain access to all security levels.

Ace grinned and punched the air in triumph. Wait till

Kedin sees this, she thought. This"ll knock his socks off. Now:

what shall I get on-line first? I know: let"s get those cameras

working.

„Check the visual monitors," Ace told the computer.

„Internal and external. Report any faults."

She sat back in the chair as the station began to test all of

its cameras. On the screen in front of her a succession of

images blinked on and off, almost faster than she could

watch them. An empty corridor; a corridor with two soldiers

in it; a view of the dining hall; a small room containing a

stack of boxes.

And then something that made Ace sit bolt upright. For a

moment she was too shocked to think.

„Stop," she said. „Go back to the previous camera. That"s not

it. Back again."

Ace stared at the screen, which was showing her a view of a

large, poorly lit space. The floor was entirely taken up with

lumpy, cloth-covered shapes, some of which occasionally

shifted. One stood up, stretched its arms, and subsided

again. Each shape was a person.

„What part of the station is that?" Ace asked.

„The current view is of cargo hold twelve," the station

replied.

„Zoom in," Ace said. „And give me sound, too."

They were human. Men and women, crowded together in

the darkness of the hold so that each had barely enough

room to lie down. As far as Ace could make out in the dim

light, they were wearing ragged clothing and looked as

though they hadn"t washed for days. The men were

unshaven.

Most were lying or sitting still; a few were rocking from side

to side. When the sound came on Ace heard no raised voices:

just a susurration of breathing and snoring, some muttering,

and occasional sobs and moans.

„Close down," Ace said. The screen went blank.

Ace sat very still and tried to work exactly how many things

she was angry about.

One: there were people on the station who were being held

prisoner in terrible conditions.

Two: Kedin and Madok had lied to her, or at least had

failed to be completely honest.

Three: perhaps they"d been trying all along just to use her.

Perhaps he doesn"t even like me, Ace thought.

She shivered. She felt suddenly cold, as if her guts had

turned to ice.

She couldn"t think about Kedin. Not yet. What should she

do? That was the important question.

Play it cool, she advised herself. I know more about them

now than they know about me. And I"m in control of the

station. Keep a low profile, play along, find out more about

what"s going on. That"s what I should do.

Sod that, she decided, and stood up. The heat of her anger

dried the tears in her eyes. That long streak of aristocratic

effluent has some explaining to do, she said to herself.

Where"s my baseball bat?

For the fifth time in as many days, Kedin was poring over

maps of Gonfallon. Every flat surface in the station"s control

room was covered with unrolled charts and lists of military

units.

This, Madok realised, was the closest activity to relaxation

that Kedin allowed himself. When the burden of conscience

and anxiety became insupportable, Kedin resorted to

planning, yet again, the campaign to dethrone Vethran.

Kedin looked up. „What was that?"

Madok had heard it too: a stifled cry, followed by a thump,

outside the door. He drew his sword and leapt towards the

doorway. He could hear nothing now. He caught Kedin"s eye,

put his finger to his lips, and slipped behind the tapestry that

hung next to the door.

The door slid open. Ace strode in. She was holding the long,

smooth club with which she had been armed when he had

first seen her. She was smiling, but Madok perceived the

belligerence in her stance.

She didn"t notice Madok. She was interested only in Kedin,

who sprawled comfortably in his chair.

„Kedin," she said conversationally, „you"re a lying toerag. I

think it"s time you told me the truth about what"s going on."

Kedin sighed. „Oh dear," he said. „There are things that I

didn"t want to have to tell you. What would you like to know?"

Ace kept her distance from him. „Everything," she said.

„But, for starters, who are the prisoners in cargo hold twelve?

And why are they there?"

Kedin spread his hands to indicate the maps all around

him. „My entire planet has fallen under the control of one

man. He used to be my friend. I regret to say that I helped

him. I"m still helping him. But the more territory he acquired,

the greedier he grew. And less stable. Now I"m planning to

oppose him. That"s what I"m doing here."

„Yeah, sure," Ace said. „Very noble. But what about the

people in the hold? What are you doing with them?"

Kedin drew his hand across his face. „I"m buying time, Ace.

I"m buying Vethran"s confidence. And I"m buying weaponry."

Without seeing Ace"s face Madok could tell that she wasn"t

impressed with Kedin s explanation. „So you"re still doing this

guy Vethran"s dirty work, whatever it is, and you"re hiding

out up here, off the planet, making lots of plans to save your

planet. One day, when you can be bothered."

He can"t tell her, Madok realised. She thinks he"s a coward,

but he can"t explain why he has to be so careful. After the

love they have so recently shared, how can he tell her about

Tevana Roslod?

Kedin uttered a short, bitter laugh. „Not much of a freedom

fighter, am I, Ace?" he said. „I imagine that you"d adopt a

more direct approach. Quite right, too."

Ace hefted her long club. Kedin made no move to draw his

sword. „Don"t try to get round me, Kedin," she said. Her voice

was unsteady. „What about those people in the hold?"

Kedin took a deep breath. „Vethran has an inexhaustible

appetite not just for power, but also for land. Once he had

made himself king of our world, he began to turn against his

own subjects. I thought to divert him by directing his

attention to worlds beyond our own. I built a rocket which,

more by luck than engineering, enabled me to reach this

space station. Here there were other, better ships. Craft with

which we could take a small army to our sister planet."

„You helped him invade Mendeb Two?" Ace"s voice shook

with disgust.

„I had no choice," Kedin said quietly, but Ace was speaking

again, quietly, to herself.

„Oh my god," she said. Madok could make no sense of her

next words. „The Doctor"s landed in a war zone."

Kedin shook his head. „There"s no war," he said. „The people

there don"t even try to defend themselves. They run away,

and we collect them. We bring them here, and we ship them

to our own planet. Vethran has the monopoly in the trade, of

course. His agents pay me ten marks for each person I land.

They"re slaves, Ace."

„Oh, right," Ace said. To Madok"s ears she sounded

strangely calm. „I get it. You"re funding your war of liberation

with the money you make from being a slave trader. That"s

good business sense, I suppose."

„I don"t like it, Ace," Kedin said. His eyes were bright with

hope. Perhaps, Madok thought, he really believes he can

make her understand. „As I said, at the moment I have no

choice."

„And I expect you"d like me to tell you how to operate the

weapons on the station? Because, of course, I"m so grateful

that you"ve lowered yourself to take an interest in me."

Madok stepped cautiously from behind the tapestry.

Something in the tone of Ace"s voice worried him. He couldn"t

stand her to be upset. He thought she might be about to

swoon or to burst into tears.

„Yes," Kedin said. He was smiling now. He clearly thought

that Ace could be won round. „Yes, I"d like you to help us,

Ace."

„I"ll bet you would," Ace said. „And do you know what?

There"s not a chance, mate. As far as I can see you"re a nasty

piece of work, and I"m going to put a stop to your filthy slave

business. Starting now."

She brought her club down on the map-strewn console in

front of Kedin, and then lifted it so that the rounded end was

pressed against his chest.

„Now then," she began.

Forgive me, Ace, Madok prayed, and brought the hilt of his

sword down on the back of her head.

She said, „Ow," half turned, and then fell to the floor.

„Thank you, Madok," Kedin said.

The two men looked down at Ace"s prone body. Madok

realised for the first time that she was younger than her

confident manner had suggested.

She"s not much more than a girl, Madok thought; she looks

about as dangerous as a puppy.

Kedin"s feelings were clearly similar. „Madok, I hate this," he

said, his voice choked with emotion. He barked an abrupt

laugh. „Add this to the list of crimes that Vethran will be

made to pay for."

„What are you going to do with her?" Madok said. He knew

that Kedin could be ruthless when he deemed it necessary.

But Kedin was unusually indecisive. „I have no idea, old

friend. I"ve already treated this poor girl more cruelly than

she deserves. And now that she hates me and has pledged

herself to oppose my plans, I fear that instead of making

amends I"ll have to aggravate the wrongs I"ve already done to

her."

„We could lock her away," Madok suggested. „In her cabin."

He knew that it was an insufficient solution.

„She"ll escape, Madok." Kedin ran his hands through his

hair in exasperation. „You know she has the determination

and the ability. I can"t keep her here. She has the knowledge

to turn the station against us."

„Don"t kill her, my lord. I beg you."

„Do you have an alternative suggestion, Madok?"

Madok grimaced. „Yes, Kedin. I have. The consignment in

hold twelve will soon be ready for despatch. Let"s process Ace

and send her down to the planet."

Kedin was aghast. „Madok!"

„At least she"ll be alive." A sudden idea bloomed in his mind.

He was so excited he could hardly speak. „Kedin! Didn"t you

tell me -? Neroda - the new formula!"

Kedin nodded, and a wide smile spread slowly across his

face. „Yes, of course. Neroda has synthesised a substitute for

SS10. It mimics the effects exactly. But the tests aren"t

finished. She doesn"t know how long it lasts. That"s why we

haven"t started using it."

„What would one dose matter, Kedin? Vethran won"t get to

hear about one slave acting strangely. At least it"s better than

giving her SS10."

„It"s ironic," Kedin said. „Neroda and her team have worked

like slaves themselves to create and test the new formula.

And now we"ll have virtually no time to use it."

Madok stared at Kedin. „My lord?"

„It"s almost time, Madok. I won"t skulk up here in this tin

box any longer. Ace was right."

They looked down in silence at the girl.

„Goodbye, Ace," Kedin said at last. „I hope one day you"ll

think better of me. But I suppose that"s not likely. Not after

what"s going to happen to you."

Chapter Three

While the Doctor argued with the soldiers, Bep-Wor stayed

silent at his side. The Doctor seemed to be digging himself

ever more deeply into trouble, but there was nothing Bep-

Wor could do to help.

He kept his head lowered at first, and saw little apart from

the soldiers" boots. Under the dust and dried mud they still

shone like polished jet. He could see the muzzles of the

soldiers" long guns.

When it became clear that the Doctor wasn"t going to stop

talking or be shot dead, which were the only two alternatives

the soldiers had offered him, Bep-Wor dared to lift his eyes.

No one was paying any attention to him.

This was the first time he had been close to the invaders:

close enough to talk to them, or to strike them with his fists.

He wanted to do both. He wanted to know why they had

come; he wanted to express his anger and despair. He stood

silently and watched.

They were just men, after all. Their uniforms were dashing

and gilded when seen from a distance; Bep-Wor saw now that

their trousers were splashed with mud, tunics had lost

buttons and were stained with sweat, caps were torn. The

men had sunken eyes and stubbly jaws.

Behind and between the raised voices of the Doctor and the

officer with whom he was arguing, Bep-Wor heard the listless

conversation and grim jokes that the soldiers exchanged.

There was an altercation at the head of the line of prisoners.

„Oi, kid. How old are you?"

The boy, clutching a blanket around himself despite the

heat, looked to Bep-Wor"s eyes to be no more than ten.

„Fourteen," the boy muttered. He didn"t look up at the

soldier.

„Yeah, and I"m the king of the ice apes. Get out of line.

Clear off. We don"t want you."

The boy looked angry rather than relieved. „You"ve taken

my mum and my dad," he said. „I want to go too."

The soldier turned away, cursed and spat. „You don"t, kid,"

he said. His voice was urgent and, Bep-Wor realised, almost

breaking with emotion. „You really don"t want to come. Look,

I"m giving you a chance. Take it, for heavens" sake. Go. Get

out of the line. Before an officer sees what"s going on. That"s

it. Run. If anyone stops you, say you"re only nine. Run!"

The soldier thrust out his gun, and at that the boy raced

away. The soldier stood cursing and shaking his head. „I hate

this job," he yelled at the line of captives. „And I hate you lot.

Keep moving along. Come on, don"t hang about."

The Doctor was having the same problem as the boy. The

officer was becoming irate.

„I keep telling you, you irritating little man, that we won"t

take you. You"re too old and frail. We"re going to take your

friend here," the officer said, indicating Bep-Wor with a

casual wave. „He looks fit and sturdy. But you"re staying

here."

„You must take me," the Doctor said. He struggled in the

grip of the two soldiers who were restraining him. He

suddenly went limp, and exhaled a great sigh of

exasperation. „Appearances can be deceptive, lieutenant.

Allow me to demonstrate."

The Doctor suddenly jerked and wriggled and, moving

faster that Bep-Wor"s eyes could follow, he was suddenly free

- and holding the long, metal gun that had been slung across

the back of one of the soldiers.

All around Bep-Wor and the Doctor, soldiers shouted in

surprise and swung their own guns to point at the Doctor.

The Doctor looked annoyed rather than fearful. He turned

slowly in a circle, like a conjuror about to perform a trick,

making a show of the fact that he was holding the gun by its

barrel. The surrounding soldiers relaxed slightly. Then the

Doctor"s hands moved very quickly, in a complex pattern. He

held up the gun, as if expecting applause. Its barrel now had

two right-angled bends.

There was a stunned silence. The line of prisoners had

stopped moving forwards; the guards and their captives were

staring at the Doctor.

Only the officer seemed unimpressed. „Very clever," he said.

„All right. There"s obviously something unusual about you.

And there"s always a demand for novelties. Get in the line."

The soldiers behind the Doctor pushed him forward. Bep-

Wor extended his arm to stop the Doctor falling. He glared at

the soldiers, daring them to touch the Doctor again.

The officer had turned on his booted heel and had begun to

stride away. „Just a minute, lieutenant," the Doctor said. „I

haven"t finished with you yet."

A murmur ran along the line of prisoners. Even some of the

guards were grinning broadly.

The officer stopped. Very slowly he turned again. His face

was set in an expression of barely restrained rage, but Bep-

Wor noticed that his body was not at all tense. Perhaps, he

thought, even the officer finds it diverting to bandy words

with the Doctor. He"s pretending to be angry because he

knows it"s part of the role he"s expected to play.

„What?" the officer demanded. „Do you have more tricks

with which to entertain us?"

„Of course not," the Doctor spluttered. „This is a serious

matter. Are you intending to transport these people in that

vessel?" The Doctor pointed at the line of prisoners and then

at the metal container with the vast curved roof.

The officer nodded, as if dealing with a simpleton.

„It"s a cargo pod," the Doctor shouted. „It"s not meant for

ferrying people. It"s unheated and, most importantly, it isn"t

pressurised. You"ll kill everyone." Another murmur, this time

of fear, rose from the line of prisoners.

The officer scowled irritatedly. „Keep them quiet!" he called

to the guards. He looked at the Doctor as if seeing him for the

first time. „You"re beginning to interest me," he said. „I"ve not

heard a single one of these Twos refer to our ships by their

correct designations. Still less know anything about the need

for pressurization. I don"t believe you"re a native. You"re not

from Mendeb Two."

„You"re quite right," the Doctor said. „I"m from Gallifrey. But

that"s neither here nor there at the moment. I assume you"re

taking us to the space station? Then we"ll need air."

The officer beckoned to the Doctor and then set off towards

the front of the line, where the prisoners were trudging,

single file, into the cavernous interior of the metal container.

The Doctor hurried to follow him, and Bep-Wor trailed after

the Doctor. Two soldiers marched behind Bep-Wor.

„I suppose I should be surprised that you know about the

space station," the lieutenant said, as if chatting with a fellow

officer. „But it seems you know about everything. This is how

you"ll be transported."

He stood at one side of the gaping doorway and gestured

into the interior. He kept his other hand fastidiously across

his nose.

There was indeed a stench. As Bep-Wor peered over the

Doctor"s shoulder into the container he almost choked as a

particularly strong odour wafted past him. The smell was

that of human beings: sweat and excrement.

It was coming from the hundreds of bodies already packed

inside what the Doctor called the cargo pod. People were

sitting and lying on the floor, their attempts to preserve their

own personal spaces continually being undermined by the

inexorable arrival of more prisoners.

„It"s a short trip to the station," the officer said. „We don"t

like using these ships, but the more civilised transports are

needed for the other half of the journey. We do the best we

can. By crowding in as many of these Twos as possible, we

keep the temperature up. As for air: we release oxygen into

the pod at intervals. We"re not barbarians."

The Doctor"s face was taut with anger. „How many deaths?"

he said through gritted teeth.

The officer took a deep breath, and then coughed and

swore. „Mostly they survive. We don"t attempt the trip until

the planet and the station are at their closest alignment. It"s

the best we can do."

„Oh, well done, lieutenant," the Doctor said with heavy

sarcasm. „You"re a credit to your nation. I hope you"re very

proud of yourself."

The officer seemed suddenly very tired. „Just get in," he

said. The soldiers pushed Bep-Wor and the Doctor through

the doorway, into the stinking darkness. „And don"t waste

your breath complaining."

The pilot"s tuneless whistling echoed along the corridor. He

turned the corner, saw Madok, and stopped at attention.

„Sir!"

„Easy, Parek," Madok said. „This isn"t a formal inspection."

They were standing outside the door to one of the docking

bays. „All ready to go?"

„Yes, sir," the pilot said. „Another full load."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Madok

and the pilot considered the implications of those three

innocuous words.

„Take care, Parek," Madok said. „The girl"s in this shipment.

She"s been given the new formula. Tell the guards to keep an

eye on her. If she behaves in any way differently from the

rest, don"t offload her. Bring her back. Understood?"

„Of course, sir. May I ask - the new formula?"

Madok sighed. „It"s been slow progress. We don"t have the

facilities here. Or Tevana and her chemists. But we think

we"ve succeeded. Keep it quiet for now."

That"s good news, sir," the pilot said. His restrained words

were belied by the huge grin that appeared on his face.

Madok couldn"t help his own expression reflecting the

pilot"s relief. „So keep the ship well pressurised," he said.

„There"s one young girl in this consignment who might not be

better off dead. Who might be able to thank us one day."

„Or who might turn round and blame us, of course," the

pilot said.

Madok grunted in agreement. „And she"d have every right

to. Parek, will you do one more thing for me?"

„What is it, sir?"

„When you"ve offloaded, try to stay long enough to find out

which agent gets the girl. You"ve seen her, while she"s been

on the station? You"ll recognise her?"

„She"s not one you"d forget in a hurry, is she, sir? I"ll find

out for you."

„Thank you, Parek. Both Kedin Ashar and I will be very

grateful. We"re concerned for her. But don"t endanger the

ship: we know Vethran wants to get his hands on one of

these vessels. I doubt if he"d risk jeopardising our trade with

him, but be careful. If any of his troops get too close, take off

immediately. You know the drill."

„Yes, sir."

The door next to them started to slide open.

„Parek!" a voice bawled through the widening gap. „Where

the hell are you?"

A soldier appeared in the doorway. He took a deep breath,

in readiness for an even louder shout, and then saw Madok

and the pilot.

„Sorry, sir," he said to Madok. „Sir, I must ask you to excuse

Parek. The transport"s ready to go, and we need the bay for

an incoming cargo pod. We can"t keep them waiting."

„I know," Madok said. He pictured the wretched mass of

Twos fighting for breath in the freezing pod. „Go, Parek. My

best wishes go with you."

And my heart"s desire, he thought. Ace, will you ever forgive

us?

Nothing could be more comfortable than to lie in bed with

Kia-Ga. Her body was soft and warm. The bedclothes were

soft and warm. Everything was soft and warm.

A distant voice was telling him to wake up. But it wasn"t

morning: there was no light. In the long nights of winter it

was better to stay in bed. Soft and warm.

„Wake up, Bep-Wor! Wake up."

Someone was rocking the bed. Was he at sea, sleeping in a

hammock? No. Kia-Ga - where was she? Gone. He couldn"t

feel his limbs. The smell. The terrible smell. His head hurt.

His body ached.

Stop shaking me. Leave me alone. Leave me in the soft and

warm.

„That"s it, Bep-Wor. Think. Feel. Breathe."

The same voice, louder now: „All of you. Don"t let anyone

fall asleep. Try to keep moving. Everyone must stay awake."

The Doctor. That was the voice. Funny little man. Why was

he shouting?

Then Bep-Wor remembered everything, in a sickening slide

of recollections. He flailed his arms and tried to sit up. He

wanted to scream.

„Bep-Wor," the Doctor said. Bep-Wor felt a warm hand on

his chest. „Try to keep still. The air"s very thin."

Then the Doctor raised his voice again. It echoed eerily in

the vast dark space. „Everyone must try to hold on. Don"t let

go. Feel the cold. Feel the pain in your lungs. Hang on to

those feelings. Just a few more minutes. We"ve arrived. We

just have to hold on for a few more minutes, until the doors

are open."

A feeble chorus of muted moans and cries answered the

Doctor"s exhortations. Bep-Wor sat with his head in his

hands, trying to control the shivering of his limbs.

There was a resounding, metallic bang. The floor shook.

Suddenly there was light, and a rushing wind. Bep-Wor took

gasping breaths of the warm air. All around him men and

women were choking, gulping, retching and crying out as

they filled their lungs.

The wide doors were sliding open, and soldiers stood

silhouetted against the yellow light.

„Everybody out," yelled a voice. „Come on, get moving."

„Where are we?" Bep-Wor asked the Doctor.

The Doctor helped Bep-Wor to his feet. „We"re on the space

station," the Doctor said. Under his breath he added, „I just

hope I can find Ace quickly."

Bep-Wor and the Doctor joined the stampede towards the

doors. As the ragged crowd pressed round them and carried

them along, the Doctor did his best to help those who were

still dazed, sitting or lying on the floor, in danger of being

trampled in the confusion. Bep-Wor followed the Doctor"s

example.

„Slow down," the Doctor called out. His words echoed. Bep-

Wor wondered how such a little man could have such a

powerful, commanding voice. Bep-Wor"s throat was raw and

he could still hardly draw enough breath to speak. „Go

carefully," the Doctor shouted. „Stop and help those who can"t

walk. We must all help each other."

The shuffling throng emerged through the doors, between

two lines of grim-faced guards with guns, and into a square

hall even larger than the hold of the cargo pod. The Doctor,

holding Bep-Wor by the arm, fought his way to the edge of

the crowd. „We have to stay near the pod," he said, but offered

no explanation.

Bep-Wor and the Doctor were standing just beyond the

guards. Bep-Wor"s eyes were drawn upwards: the ceiling was

so high that he could hardly discern it, and the cargo pod

which had seemed so unnaturally large when squatting amid

the fields was now dwarfed by the chamber it was resting in.

He could see, behind the pod, a pair of metal doors each the

height and width of a cliff. The prisoners dispersed across the

floor of the chamber: they were no bigger than insects milling

about in the village square.

„Who built this?" Bep-Wor whispered.

The Doctor was trying to look over the shoulders of the

soldiers, but he turned briefly to answer the question. „The

TAM corporation," he said. „But I expect your ancestors did a

lot of the manual work."

The stream of prisoners pouring through the pod"s doors

became a trickle. Those worst affected by the cold and the

thin air emerged staggering, or crawling, or supported by

others.

Some of the soldiers wrapped cloths around their faces and

went into the pod.

Across the expanse of the great chamber the prisoners were

becoming more animated. Some wandered, still dazed and

exhausted; others paced urgently from group to group,

searching for friends or members of their families. Bep-Wor

was torn between staying with the Doctor and entering the

throng. There was a chance that he might find Kia-Ga. But,

he had to admit to himself, he could see no one from his

village. He recognised many people from Porgum, and some

from other, more northern, towns and villages. As the volume

of the babel of voices increased, Bep-Wor"s heart sank. He

remained at the Doctor"s side. The flame of hope that he

nurtured was flickering and dying.

The soldiers who had gone into the pod began to return

from inside. As they strode out they tore the cloths from their

faces and took deep breaths of the clean air. For some reason

they were smiling broadly.

„That"s the best yet," one of them shouted towards the line

of guards standing in front of the Doctor. „Only lost one."

The last two of the soldiers emerged from the pod. Between

them they were carrying the lifeless body of a young man.

Bep-Wor recognised the figure. „That"s Hap-Lor," he told the

Doctor. „He"s a boat-builder from Kragen. Is he dead?"

The Doctor tapped on the shoulder of one of the guards.

The soldier turned. The Doctor doffed his hat.

„Let me through," the Doctor said. „I"m a doctor."

The soldier shrugged, and the Doctor pushed past him. The

soldiers carrying Hap-Lor lowered him to the floor as the

Doctor and Bep-Wor approached.

Hap-Lor"s face was pale. His eyes were closed and his lips

were blue. His chest wasn"t moving. Bep-Wor could tell that

he was dead. He wondered whether Hap-Lor"s wife, Noa-La,

was in the crowd. And where were their children?

„Your cape," the Doctor said. „Bep-Wor, give me your cape."

Without thinking Bep-Wor unlaced his cape and gave it to

the Doctor. It didn"t matter. Nothing mattered any more.

„More!" the Doctor shouted. „Bring me more clothes. I have

to get him warm."

„He"s dead, Doctor," Bep-Wor murmured. He noticed that all

the prisoners had started to converge on the entrance to the

pod. A dense circle of inquisitive faces surrounded the patch

of floor where the Doctor was kneeling beside Hap-Lor"s body.

The soldiers struggled to hold back the crowd. Some of the

prisoners tore off their grimy clothes and threw them over the

heads of the soldiers, towards the Doctor. Bep-Wor collected

the garments and helped the Doctor to pack them around

Hap-Lor"s cold corpse.

„He"s not dead yet," the Doctor said. „Not until I say so.

There must be something I can do right."

The Doctor put his ear to Hap-Lor"s chest. He massaged

Hap-Lor"s torso and throat. Then he tipped back Hap-Lor"s

head, opened the blue lips, and kissed the dead man.

It was a long, intense kiss. The Doctor pulled his head

away, took a deep breath, and kissed Hap-Lor again. Bep-

Wor realised that the Doctor was blowing his own breath into

Hap-Lor, as if he believed the vital exhalation of a living man

could restore life to the dead.

The crowd was silent now, but for the constant murmured

questions of those too far back to see. The soldiers, too, had

all turned to face the centre of the circle.

The Doctor lifted his head again, and brought his fist down

hard on Hap-Lor"s ribs. Again. And again. Another long kiss.

Another pounding on the chest.

Once again the Doctor listened for a heartbeat. Bep-Wor

thought that he detected the ghost of a smile on the Doctor"s

lips. „Bep-Wor," the Doctor said, „help me."

Bep-Wor knelt beside Hap-Lor, facing the Doctor.

„Lift him up a little," the Doctor said, and when Bep-Wor

had hauled the dead weight of Hap-Lor"s torso into a sitting

position, he noticed the flask in the Doctor"s hand, concealed

under his jacket.

„Come closer," the Doctor whispered, and as Bep-Wor leant

forwards the Doctor did likewise, so that no one could see

him bring the neck of the flask to Hap-Lor"s lips. Thick liquid

trickled into Hap-Lor"s slack mouth.

„Hold him steady," the Doctor said, and stood up, as he did

so returning the flask discreetly to a pocket inside his jacket.

The Doctor stroked his chin as he looked down at Hap-Lor.

The crowd was silent. The guards stared intently.

Bep-Wor was the first to know that Hap-Lor had come back

to life. He felt the man"s body shake, as if with an ague. Bep-

Wor let out a cry, and almost allowed Hap-Lor to drop from

his hands.

Hap-Lor"s eyes blinked open, and shut again. He coughed,

and then drew a raucous, rattling breath. His lips were no

longer blue.

And then a wave of shouting swept through the crowd, and

Bep-Wor cowered on the floor as the noise grew and

overwhelmed him. He held Hap-Lor in a warm embrace, and

felt the man"s fitful movements and increasingly confident

breathing.

The soldiers waved their guns and drew their swords, and

gradually the shouting died away. There was still a buzz of

conversation, however. Bep-Wor could hear one question,

repeated over and over again by hundreds of different voices:

„Who is he?"

Bep-Wor rose, and helped Hap-Lor to stand. He put his

hand to his face, and realised that he was crying.

„He is the Doctor!" Bep-Wor shouted. „Trust him. He can

save us all."

Tragar knew that he would be summoned. He was waiting for

the call.

He had returned to Underton by self-propelled vehicle,

leaving Jellod in charge of the carts and camelopes that

would bring the bulk of the purchases home to Balon Ferud"s

city residence. As soon as he had arrived he had

conscientiously submitted his purse and his receipts to

Bared, the keeper of Baton"s accounts.

Then he had retired to his lodgings in the old castle. He

had bathed, he had changed into the heavy, formal costume

that Poa-Nan had prepared for him, he had packed a pipe

with smoke-leaf and a sprinkling of dried spore-seed, and he

had settled down in the window seat of his study to enjoy the

view of Underton"s rooftops.

He had smoked only half the pipe, and his senses were

beginning to relax into a gently narcotic cloud, when he

heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs. There was a knock on

the door.

„Enter," Tragar called out.

Poa-Nan stood in the doorway. In his hand was a stiff

envelope bearing a large seal.

„I know," Tragar said. „Balon wants me."

Poa-Nan looked troubled. „No, sir," he said, holding out the

envelope. „A message."

Tragar smiled. These Twos could be so literal in their

thinking. „Yes, Poa-Nan," he said, taking the envelope and

knocking it against the man"s head. „And the message will

say that Balon wants to see me."

Poa-Nan"s face resumed its usual expression of vacant

bliss. „Yes, sir," he said.

Tragar tore open the envelope and read its contents. „Balon

is on his way here," he said. He felt pleased with himself. His

extravagance had clearly piqued his lord"s curiosity. „Come,

Poa-Nan. Let"s go and greet him."

Tragar took one last pull on his pipe, sucked the sweet

smoke deeply into his lungs, and sighed with regret as he

laid the pipe on the windowsill. „Help me," he said, and went

to stand in front of the long mirror while Poa-Nan brushed

the shoulders of his brocade coat and adjusted the lace

ruffles at his neck and wrists.

It wouldn"t do to appear as expensively dressed as his

lordship. Tragar wondered whether he should quickly change

into one of his plain, black silk coats. No time for that. And in

any case these days Balon"s uniform was so festooned with

medals that the King himself looked hardly less gilded.

„Follow me," he said, and strode from the room.

As Tragar entered the reception hall of the east wing, Balon

Ferud and two uniformed attendants were being ushered

through the doors that opened on to the courtyard. Balon"s

medals and ornate sword-belt jingled as he marched across

the flagstones. He could move surprisingly quickly, Tragar

knew, considering he was a head shorter than Tragar, was

running to fat, and was carrying enough gold and silver on

his clothing to buy a dozen Twos.

„Three hundred and fifty marks," Balon shouted at Tragar

as soon as he saw him. „Three hundred and fifty marks,

Chamberlain Tragar. Have you lost your senses?"

Tragar stopped in front of Balon and bowed. „Good day, my

lord," he said. „I"m honoured to receive you. How can I be of

service?"

Balon Ferud"s face was red with indignation. „You can be of

service, Tragar, by not wasting my money. Do you have any

explanation for this expense?"

Tragar put on an expression of mortified hurt. „Your

lordship"s finances are my prime concern," he said. „I take a

modest pride in the economy with which I run your lordship"s

household. I venture to suggest that I take no less care than

Bared himself."

„Then what"s your explanation for this, Chamberlain?"

Balon pressed a chubby finger into Tragar"s chest. „Three

hundred and fifty marks for a poxy Two? You could have

bought seven or eight of the smelly beggars for that amount.

Prices are coming down, if anything."

Tragar glanced at Poa-Nan. The slave was, of course,

unaffected by Balon"s insulting words and was smiling

vacantly. Tragar wondered whether he would ever get used to

owning Twos.

„There was considerable competition for this particular

Two," Tragar said. „If you"ll allow me to demonstrate her to

you, I believe you"ll see why. I am sure that she will prove a

sound investment. If your lordship would follow me?"

„This had better be worthwhile," Balon grumbled as he

followed Tragar towards the door to an anteroom of the

reception hall.

Tragar had left to his domestic staff the tasks of making the

new slave presentable and of coaching her in the basic rules

of behaviour. As he ushered Balon into the anteroom he saw

that his domestics had done a good job: the slave was

wearing her own unusual clothes, washed and pressed, and

was standing quietly with a distant smile on her lips.

Tragar noted that he had no reluctance to think of this one

as a slave. The Twos were bought and sold, but people didn"t

usually refer to them as slaves: perhaps, Tragar thought,

there was beneath all the imperial pride a sense of unease at

exploiting prisoners of war. But there was something different

about this one: she wasn"t like a Two. She was unique. It

pleased Tragar to think of her as a slave. As his slave, even

though she was Balon"s property.

„Great heavens, Tragar," Balon cried, „what have you

dressed her in? She"s positively indecent."

„These are her own clothes, my lord," Tragar said. „I confess

I was confounded myself, at first. That she wears trousers is

shocking enough, and they are a disgracefully tight fit. And

the bare arms! But consider, my lord, that it"s said the

womenfolk of our forefathers used to dress like the men. And

she is decently covered, after all."

Balon grunted and paced around the slave. „I"ve never seen

one like this before," he said. „Is she from the northern

islands?"

Tragar shrugged. „She was in the latest consignment. It

consisted entirely of Twos from the northern islands. I don"t

believe our armies have yet started to conquer the south. But

ask her yourself, my lord."

Balon looked suspiciously at his chamberlain, as if he

suspected a trick. And Tragar could hardly conceal his mirth,

because he knew that Balon was in for a surprise.

„Hmm," Balon said. „Very well. Girl, what"s your name?"

„Ace, sir," the slave replied, and favoured Balon Ferud with

a dazzling grin.

„What"s that? Ace? Just Ace?"

„Yes, sir. Just Ace. No other names at all."

Balon turned and looked at Tragar. His face showed his

amazement. Tragar lifted his hands and his eyebrows.

„She"s got a peculiar accent," Balon said. „And a very

strange name. Are you sure she"s a Two?"

„Ask her, my lord. Ask her."

„Well then, Ace," Balon said cautiously. „Where are you

from, eh?"

„Perivale, sir," Ace replied. Tragar stifled an urge to laugh.

The girl was remarkable.

„And where, pray, is Perivale?" Balon persisted.

„It"s a suburb of Deadsville, sir," Ace said earnestly. „The

back end of nowhere."

„I see," Balon said. He and Tragar had another wordless

exchange. He turned again to Ace. „And what was your

occupation, before you were brought here?"

Ace screwed up her face as she considered her answer. „I

was a time traveller, I suppose, sir. A righter of wrongs, a

fighter of monsters. I used to be the assistant to this

meddlesome old Professor."

Balon was about to ask another question, but abruptly he

turned on his heel and moved close to Tragar. „Is this some

sort of prank, Tragar?" he said in a low voice. „If so I shall not

be amused."

Tragar held up his hands again. „I assure you, my lord,

everything is as it seems. I bought her yesterday, fresh from

Kedin Ashar"s transport ship."

„But has she been correctly processed, Tragar? Her answers

are nonsensical."

„I saw her leaving the ship with my own eyes, my lord,"

Tragar said. „She must have been processed along with all

the others. She learns. She obeys. Allow me to demonstrate."

Tragar tried to think quickly. He hadn"t expected Balon to

be this sceptical. How could he demonstrate the slave"s

obedience? Disfigurement would damage the slave"s value.

And he didn"t want bloodstains on his carpets.

„Poa-Nan," he said, „go and stand beside Ace. Keep still and

don"t make a noise. Ace, eat Poa-Nan"s right ear."

„Yes, sir," the two slaves said in unison. Tragar and Belon

watched as Ace grasped Poa-Nan"s head, bit into the tough

cartilage of his ear, and began to rend and chew with her

strong, white teeth.

Poa-Nan gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and began to

gasp with pain. But he didn"t cry out or try to move away.

Once again Tragar marvelled at the technical skill of the

King"s chemists.

„Enough, Tragar," Balon said. „I"m convinced she"s been

dosed with the potion."

Tragar breathed a sigh of relief: blood from Poa-Nan"s ear

was dripping on to the Two"s tunic. He hated wasting money

on new clothes for the servants. „Stop, Ace," he said. He gave

her a handkerchief. „Wipe clean your mouth."

„Yes, sir," Ace said. She looked very pleased with herself.

„Thank you, sir."

Balon looked once again into her smiling face. Tragar

noticed that Balon and Ace were the same height. „One more

thing, Ace," Balon said. „What are your particular skills?"

Tragar saw that once again Ace considered her answer

before replying. A thoughtful slave: that was unusual in

itself.

„Shove ha"penny football, sir," Ace said. „I was always dead

good at that. Computers, these days. Explosives - for use in

demolition, as weapons, and just for the fun of it, really. And

I once had a job as a waitress, sir."

„Remarkable." Balon was chuckling. „Quite remarkable." He

turned to Tragar. „Well, chamberlain, I think you might be

right. She is unique. And she claims a bizarre range of

talents. Young and pretty, too. I"m not convinced she"s worth

350, but I"m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt for

the time being. I"ll leave her in your hands. Train her up, and

keep me informed of your progress."

Bep-Wor wondered whether the Doctor ever slept. There was

little else to do in the dimly lit chamber into which the

prisoners had been herded. There was enough room for each

person to lie down, and there was air and warmth. In all

other respects conditions were little better than during the

journey in the cargo pod.

Bep-Wor dozed, drifting in and out of sleep.

Sometimes when he woke the Doctor was sitting beside

him, conversing in whispers with one of the succession of

wretched men and women who made their way through the

maze of prone bodies to ask his advice. Some were ill; others

were simply overwhelmed by the disasters that had befallen

them - the destruction of their homes, separation from their

families, fear of what was still to come. And some were simply

curious about the little man with the strange clothes who

had brought Hap-Lor back from the dead.

The Doctor listened patiently to each one, and did his best

to offer comfort and reassurance. Bep-Wor was amazed at the

Doctor"s stamina. For himself he could hardly bear to

overhear the recurrent accounts of pain and loss, and he

would cover his ears and try to sleep again. The Doctor

simply absorbed the distress of everyone who came to him:

he soaked up the anguish, and the petitioners went away

with brighter eyes and a surer step.

At other times when Bep-Wor awoke the Doctor was

absent. His voice could be heard from near the single door of

the chamber. He would be in animated conversation with one

of the guards who were posted outside. He asked for

medicines, fresh dressings for wounds, water and, more and

more urgently, food. His requests, except for the last item,

were usually granted.

Hunger was making it more and more difficult for Bep-Wor

to sleep. His stomach was hollow, and ached.

„Why won"t they give us food, Doctor?" he asked when there

was a brief respite from dealing with the tribulations of the

prisoners.

The Doctor tipped back his hat and scratched his head. „I

don"t know, Bep-Wor. But I can"t believe that they"ve brought

us all this way just to starve us to death."

Bep-Wor hardly dared to ask, but hunger drove him to it.

„Could we not take some sustenance from your silver flask,

Doctor?"

„Emergency use only," the Doctor said. „There must be a

reason why they"re refusing us food. I want to know what it

is."

„What will happen to us, Doctor?" It was the question that

the Doctor had been asked a hundred times already, and

Bep-Wor was reluctant to irritate the Doctor by asking it

again. But he was afraid, and he wanted to know. „What are

they going to do with us?"

„I wish I knew," the Doctor said. „I"ll tell you everything I"ve

been able to deduce. You know, don"t you, that your world

travels in a circle around the sun?"

„Yes, of course." Bep-Wor wondered how this basic truth

could be relevant to their predicament. „That"s how we have

the cycle of the seasons: the long winter nights, the long

summer days, and the two festivals each year when the day

and the night are equal."

„Good. And what do you call your world?"

Bep-Wor thought long and hard, but could come up with

no clever answer. „It"s just the world."

In the near-darkness Bep-Wor could see the Doctor"s

toothy smile. „Your ancestors were brought to your world by

people who travelled between the stars."

Bep-Wor was not surprised. „There are old stories that say

so."

„Those travellers," the Doctor went on, „called your sun

Mendeb. And your world was named Mendeb Two, because it

is the second planet from the sun."

A thought appeared in Bep-Wor"s mind, like a coin glinting

in freshly-turned soil. „The soldiers," he said. „They call us

Twos."

„Well spotted," the Doctor said. „That"s right. And therefore I

believe they"re not from your planet, but are from another

world. And they have discovered records about the history of

this planetary system."

It was almost too much for Bep-Wor to comprehend.

„Another world, Doctor? What other world?"

The Doctor sighed, as if facing up to an unpalatable truth.

„I think they"re from Mendeb Three," he said. „Your neighbour

planet. Their ancestors were brought there at the same time

as your ancestors were settled on Mendeb Two. Unfort-

unately they seem to have rediscovered some advanced

technology rather more quickly than you have."

Bep-Wor gazed up at the titanic bulkheads that supported

the prison chamber roof. „Did they build this place?" he

asked.

„No, no," the Doctor said impatiently, as if the question was

absurd. „This is a space station. It"s been here for centuries.

It"s fifty kilometres in diameter, for goodness" sake. It"s

remarkable that the people of Mendeb Three have reached it.

But now that they have, they have access to some even more

sophisticated machinery. Such as the cargo pod in which we

were brought here."

„And what do they want with us, Doctor?" This was the

crucial question. „Why have they brought us here?"

The Doctor pursed his lips. „I can think of only five reasons

why an entire population is rounded up and taken away. The

first stems from racial intolerance: the idea is to exterminate

a people that is regarded as inferior or unclean. I don"t

believe that can apply in this case. The Threes don"t know

you, and have had no opportunity to develop a fear or hatred

of you. And the soldiers seem sympathetic, if anything."

„That"s good," Bep-Wor said cautiously. He didn"t like the

sound of extermination.

„Second is a desire for living space. If Mendeb Three were

threatened with climate change, or ecological catastrophe, or

overcrowding, they might try to clear your planet so that they

could move to it."

The idea horrified Bep-Wor. It seemed so horribly plausible.

„But wait," he said. „Why then do they bother to bring us

here? Why not just kill us in our homes?"

„Precisely," the Doctor said. „Good thinking. So we can rule

out that explanation, probably."

„The third possibility?" Bep-Wor asked.

„It"s not likely," the Doctor said, „but it"s possible that for

some reason the people of Mendeb Three have become

infertile, and they need you for breeding stock."

Bep-Wor winced as an image of Kia-Ga flashed into his

mind.

„But there seem to be plenty of Threes," the Doctor said,

and they"re taking men as well as women. So we come to the

fourth possibility."

The Doctor paused before resuming. „I hope it"s not this

one," he said, „because it"s particularly unpleasant.

Sometimes a society in the grip of religious or political

fervour finds itself in a spiral of ever-increasing violence. The

gods demand ever more propitiation; the ideologues see

traitors everywhere. In the end everyone has to be sacrificed:

the citizens of the society itself, and everyone with whom it

comes into contact. So we may be on our way to ritual

execution."

„Oh," Bep-Wor said. He couldn"t conceive of killing an entire

population for so little reason.

„But it"s probably not that," the Doctor said. „I"ve seen no

evidence of religious zeal or dogmatic ideology among the

guards or their officers. So that leaves only the fifth reason

for taking an entire people into captivity."

„Yes?" Bep-Wor said. „What"s the reason?"

„Forced labour," the Doctor said. „They need workers."

While Bep-Wor was turning over this conclusion in his

mind, the door slid open.

„Form a line," shouted the soldier who appeared in the

doorway. „There"s plenty for everyone."

Two more soldiers wheeled into the chamber a trolley on

which was a large metal cylinder. This was followed by a

second trolley piled with beakers.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes watched the soldiers and then, as

the air from the doorway percolated throughout the chamber,

carrying the aroma of cooked vegetables, hundreds of pairs of

nostrils began to twitch, and hundreds of stomachs rumbled.

The soldiers had brought food at last.

Everyone stood. Everyone moved towards the door.

The soldiers drew their swords and stood in a line in front

of the trolleys.

„Keep back," one of them shouted. „If you can"t form an

orderly line, there"ll be none for any of you."

The prisoners shuffled and shoved. Arguments flared, and

died quickly because the Opponents were too hungry to fight.

Eventually the hundreds of captives had organised

themselves into a queue that snaked back and forth and

filled the chamber.

„That"s better," the soldier said. „Now step forward one at a

time. You"ll get a beaker of soup. It"s good stuff, so don"t

waste any."

The soldiers positioned the trolleys across the doorway and

stood behind them. Bep-Wor and the Doctor were near the

head of the queue, and they shuffled forward each time

another prisoner reached the front and stepped forward to

receive a ration of soup.

Soon there were only three people between the Doctor and

the front of the queue. Bep-Wor, standing behind the Doctor,

noticed that the guards seemed nervous and uneasy. Another

prisoner was served, and sipped the hot soup from his

beaker as he wandered back into the depths of the chamber;

then another. Bep-Wor was fascinated by the expressions on

the faces of the guards. They might have been expected to

enjoy providing food for hungry prisoners, but instead they

looked tired and tense. They didn"t speak to the prisoners, or

even to each other.

The Doctor stepped forward to collect his ration. He took a

beaker from the first trolley and stood in front of the second

while one of the soldiers took the beaker from him, ladled

soup from the metal cylinder, and passed the full beaker

back to the Doctor.

The Doctor began to carry his soup back into the chamber.

He lifted the beaker to his face and inhaled the rich aroma of

vegetables and spices. And then, as Bep-Wor watched, the

Doctor"s appreciative smile turned into a grimace of disgust.

„Come on," the soldier with the ladle shouted. „Keep moving.

Let"s have the next one."

Bep-Wor started. He was holding up the queue. Before he

could step forward, the Doctor clutched his arm.

„Don"t touch a drop," the Doctor whispered. „It"s poisoned.

Don"t make a fuss. As soon as you"ve got your soup, go and

tell the others. Try to stop them eating it."

„Come on!" the soldier yelled, and the woman behind Bep-

Wor pushed him in the back.

As the soldier ladled soup into Bep-Wor"s beaker, Bep-Wor

looked over his shoulder. The Doctor was moving along the

queue, whispering his urgent message.

„You there," one of the soldiers shouted. „You with the hat.

Stop talking and go and eat your soup. Stay clear of the line.

No second helpings."

The Doctor lifted an arm to acknowledge the instruction,

and disappeared into the gloom of the chamber. Bep-Wor did

the same, looking for the prisoners who had been in the

queue ahead of the Doctor.

„Don"t eat it," he whispered, as loudly as he dared, as he

approached a group of prisoners holding beakers. „The Doctor

says it"s poisoned."

The warning was too late. Some of the prisoners had

already drained every drop: they seemed sleepy, their speech

was slurred, and their only concern was to lie down and rest.

Others, who had eaten less, insisted that the soup was good,

and would not listen to Bep-Wor. A few looked worried and

confused, and stopped eating.

The Doctor appeared out of the darkness. „I"ve tried to warn

everyone still in the line," he said. „Now I"ve got to be out of

sight. I"ll be in the corner near the privy, where there"s least

light. Bep-Wor, send everyone to me. Tell them I have food for

them. But they mustn"t eat the soup." He pulled open his

jacket, and Bep-Wor saw the metallic gleam of the flask in

the Doctor"s pocket.

„Yes, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. He had no idea what the

Doctor intended to do, and it was easier to follow the Doctor"s

instructions than to try to work out what was going on.

„Follow the Doctor," he told the prisoners who hadn"t eaten all

of their soup. „He will feed you. Don"t eat the soup."

He went as close to the door as he could without attracting

the attention of the guards. He wandered back and forth. He

pretended to sip from his beaker. „Don"t eat it," he told all the

prisoners he managed to intercept as they made their way

from the doorway. „The Doctor has better food. This is

poisoned. He"s in the corner near the privy. Go and see him."

He tried not to wonder how the Doctor would feed so many

people with the contents of one small flask.

He stayed at his post until the last of the prisoners had

collected a beaker of soup. It was Nam-Gar, a metal worker

from Porgum whom Bep-Wor knew slightly. Nam-Gar had

been last in the queue because he was lame in his left leg.

Bep-Wor supported him and half-carried him into the

darkness towards the Doctor.

Wherever he peered into the gloom Bep-Wor saw prisoners

drinking from beakers. As he approached the darkest corner,

where the Doctor had found a drainage hole and had decreed

that it should be reserved for the prisoners" waste, he put his

hand over his face in an attempt to lessen the stench.

He saw the Doctor, standing next to the drain and

apparently unaffected by the noxious smell. The last few

prisoners were with him. He took the beaker from each of

them, and poured its contents into the drain. Then he turned

his back, and when he turned again he presented the

prisoner with a full beaker. To the prisoners this seemed like

magic, and although Bep-Wor knew that the sustenance

came from the Doctor"s flask he was as perplexed as they

were about the original never-ending source of the Doctor"s

bounty.

The Doctor urged the prisoners to move away, and to act as

if they were eating the soup that the soldiers had provided.

When Nam-Gar"s soup, and Bep-Wor"s, had been disposed

of and replaced with the Doctor"s delicious broth, the Doctor

led Bep-Wor towards the centre of the chamber. The

prisoners they passed, still amazed that the Doctor had

poured away all the soup and had replenished all the beakers

as if by magic, stared at him as he passed. „The Doctor," they

muttered under their breath. „Praise the Doctor."

„But why did they give us poison, Doctor?" Bep-Wor asked.

„Do they want to kill us?"

The Doctor sniffed his beaker, which was still full of the

soup that the guards had provided. „I don"t think so," he said.

„It"s a narcotic of some kind. Did we manage to stop everyone

from eating it?"

Bep-Wor shook his head. „No, Doctor. There were a few who

had eaten before I found them, and a few others who

wouldn"t listen to our warnings."

„They were very hungry, Bep-Wor," the Doctor said. „We

can"t blame them. And," he added, with a grim smile, „they"ll

be useful. The guards will be watching us, to make sure we

behave as they expect. We"ll have to copy the actions of those

who ate the soup."

„It makes them sleepy," Bep-Wor said. „They just want to lie

down."

The Doctor"s look of disappointment was almost comical.

„Well, that"s not very interesting," he said. „However, everyone

must do the same. Spread the word: copy the behaviour of

those who ate the soup."

„Yes, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. „What are you going to do?"

„I"m going to perform a crude analysis of the drug in this

soup," the Doctor announced, „and without the facilities of

the TARDIS I"ll have to do it the basic way." Before Bep-Wor

could stop him, the Doctor had put the beaker to his lips and

drained its contents.

„Very good," the Doctor said, wiping his lips with a large

patterned handkerchief. „But a little heavy on the black

pepper."

He collapsed to the floor and lay with his eyes closed.

Bep-Wor knelt beside the Doctor and shook him. „Doctor!

Doctor! Wake up!"

The Doctor opened one eye. „Do you mind?" he said. „I"m

pretending to be asleep. Now go and tell everyone else to do

the same."

Later, as he lay on his back, listening to the breathing of

the hundreds of prisoners lying all around him across the

floor of the chamber, Bep-Wor heard booted feet

approaching. The soldiers were walking among the prisoners.

He reckoned there were at least six of them.

If we rise up and attack them now, Bep-Wor thought, we

will overcome them easily. He dismissed the idea. There were

more soldiers - many more - and they had guns and swords.

„Is that the lot?" one of the soldiers shouted.

„Every beaker accounted for," another shouted back. „And

they"re all empty. No troublemakers in this consignment."

A soldier standing close to Bep-Wor spoke under his

breath. „The poor bastards," he murmured. „No one deserves

what we"re doing to them."

The gleaming white circle grew larger with each minute. Now

Madok could see the corona of atmosphere, and the swirls of

cloud within it; he could make out the shapes of the

continents around the planet"s central belt. Once again he

was on his way home.

He had plenty of time to think during these trips to and

from the space station. He was becoming used to the feeling

of weightlessness: it seemed to free his mind. Unlike most of

Kedin"s pilots Madok preferred to fly the scout ships, rather

than the cumbersome cargo pods and transports. He didn"t

mind flying solo. In the black, spangled gulf between worlds a

scout"s metal shell seemed negligible, and Madok could fancy

himself alone with the stars; once within a planet"s

atmosphere the small ship was almost reminiscent of the

fragile aircraft, prototypes made of wooden panels held

together with wire, in which Madok had learnt to fly on

Kedin"s summer estates.

It all seemed so long ago.

Everything had been simpler then.

Madok was not a native of one of Kedin"s estates. He was

from County Vandorn, a small, insignificant domain, three-

fifths desert and scrub. As the family"s second son he had

had no expectation of owning land, and had entered the

military academy because he had few options. But he had

found that a soldier"s life suited him, and as the academy"s

most promising cadet he had been offered, and had

enthusiastically accepted, opportunities to travel and to train

with cadets from other lands.

He had graduated, with the rank of lieutenant, while he

was seconded to the army of the Duke of Brann. He had seen

active service, at the head of a cavalry troop, during the

border conflict between Brann and Gonfallon, and he had

seen for himself the proficiency of Vethran"s disciplined, well-

equipped army. His troop had done well to withstand the

whirlwind charge of the Gonfallon cavalry, led by the

youthful and charismatic Kedin Ashar. The rest of the wing

had been swept away and had fled from the field. The Duke

of Brann had surrendered, had been assured of his rights

and privileges, and had nonetheless seen his duchy

sequestered by Vethran and parcelled out to Vethran"s

minions.

Madok had returned to Vandorn when the County"s army

was mustered to defend the land: frontier conflicts were

erupting across every continent. But Vandorn was

surrendered without a battle being fought. The Count died

without an heir, and due to Vethran"s influence the County

was gifted to Vethran"s military genius, the newly created

Duke of Jerrissar, the dashing Kedin Ashar.

Madok had expected to dislike his new lord. Kedin Ashar

was from a family of no particular note; he had a reputation

as a womaniser and a rakehell; he seemed reckless in battle,

and his unbroken succession of military successes was

ascribed to luck, or to reliance on new and frankly

ungentlemanly gadgets and tricks.

They had met on the battlements of Castle Vandorn. Madok

had gone outside, hoping to avoid being presented to the new

Count. Kedin had come looking for him.

Madok had heard his name being called, and had turned

from the view of dusty Vandorn town to see a tall, slim figure

striding towards him along the walkway. He had recognised

Kedin Ashar immediately, and knelt on one knee with his

head bowed.

„Get up, Madok," Kedin had said. „On your feet, man. Let

me shake your hand. If the Duke of Brann had had three

more cavalry officers with just half your spirit, the battle

would have gone the other way."

Shocked in equal measure by Kedin s friendliness and

informality, Madok had been able only to mutter a few words

of thanks. He had been struck by Kedin"s youth: he was no

older than Madok himself.

„I want you on my staff, Madok," Kedin had declared. „I"ve

seen your record as a cadet and an officer. Come with me to

what I suppose I will have to get used to calling Jerrissar -

pompous name for a duchy, don"t you think? Vethran"s idea,

of course. I"ve got people working on a new design for a

musket. Yet another idea inspired by reading the old books.

You load in the breech, not the muzzle. It"ll change the way

we wage war."

They had walked together then around the circumference of

Vandorn"s walls. By the time they had returned to the main

hall, where the county"s notables were waiting to introduce

themselves to their new lord, Madok had decided to throw in

his lot with Kedin. The Duke of Jerrissar was excitable,

talkative, indiscreet - and made it clear that promoting

Vethran"s ambitions was merely incidental to transforming

the world.

Kedin Ashar had been an idealist even then. Once he had

met Tevana Roslod, he had become a crusader and an

inspiration.

And he still was, Madok thought.

A burst of light against the browns and greens of the

world"s central belt caught Madok"s attention. It was the

transport ship that had left the station the day before Madok

had set out: his scout had almost caught up with it. It was

firing its engines in preparation for entering the atmosphere.

Another consignment of wretched prisoners from Mendeb

Two. They represented funds for Kedin"s war chest. They

represented cheap, disposable labour for the more ruthless

owners of mines and farms and factories; entertainment for

the jaded appetites at Vethran"s court; cannon fodder for

Vethran"s armies.

Ace had been in the previous consignment. She had been

on the planet for several days already. Madok tried not to

think about what might be happening to her.

Madok was close enough to the planet now to discern the

dark green heartland of the largest landmass: the equatorial

forest, within which lay Gonfallon, Vethran"s home domain,

the source of the canker that had contaminated the entire

world.

To begin with the pace of change had been exhilarating.

Then they had all been young: Vethran, whose ambition and

drive had seemed admirable; Kedin and Tevana, so brilliant

and so in love; Madok himself, volunteering to experiment

with each new weapon and vehicle that Kedin"s technicians

created.

Looking back, it seemed that not a day passed without

some new discovery or adventure: the serendipitous

understanding of an arcane diagram in one of the old books;

the testing of a prototype engine; dousing the fires that were

the inevitable result of most of Tevana"s experiments with

new fuels.

Now, in the serene silence of space, Madok could see that

Kedin had become swept up in the hurricane of innovation

that he had himself created. And he, and Tevana, and

everyone around them, had underestimated Vethran.

Kedin had had the ideas, and the workshops, and the new

machines. Vethran had had the money and the soldiers and

the guns, and an appetite for power that increased as it was

fed.

It was not until Kedin had taken the space station that he

finally became aware that Vethran"s desires were insatiable.

Newly crowned King, Vethran had sent a new strategic plan

to each of his generals and advisers, including Kedin. Madok

had brought the document by scout ship to the space

station, and had been present when Kedin broke the seal and

read aloud Vethran"s intentions. Madok would never forget

the silence that had settled on everyone in the control room

when Kedin finished reading.

They had thought that once Vethran controlled the world,

his ambitions would cease; instead, his orders to Kedin were

to transport an invasion army to Mendeb Two. They had

thought that Kedin and Tevana had recruited all the most

brilliant technicians and mechanics; now they discovered

that Vethran had his own teams of specialists, including

chemists who had distilled essences of terrifying potency

which Kedin was instructed to use.

From that moment Kedin Ashar resolved to resist Vethran"s

plans. Kedin had the space station; he had some

technological advances that he had not yet supplied to the

Gonfallon army; he had all the pilots who knew how to fly

between the worlds.

But Vethran had Tevana.

It was a stalemate. Kedin continued to manifest an

allegiance to Vethran, to transport Vethran"s troops, and to

supply the vile trade from the conquered planet to the home

world - but he didn"t take the risk of going to the royal court.

The King continued to pay Kedin, to use Kedin"s space ships

and pilots, and to load Kedin with honours - but he didn"t

allow Tevana to leave her residence.

The deadlock would break soon. The end game was about

to begin. Madok smiled grimly. He hated to be inactive.

On the space station Neroda, Jerol and Tered, Kedin"s

ablest physicians, had succeeded in analysing SS10, the

dreadful potion supplied by Vethran"s chemists. They knew

how to alter its composition. Soon, when the physicians knew

how long the effects of the new formula lasted, it would be

given to every man and woman captured on Mendeb Three

instead of SS10.

And some time later Vethran would realise that Kedin had

crossed him. Then, at the latest, Kedin would have to move

against Vethran - before Vethran could harm Tevana.

There was still much to organise. From the space station

Kedin kept in contact with his scattered domains by radio

but, no matter how often the frequency and the code were

changed, there was the possibility that one of the few other

receivers on the planet would pick up a transmission.

So Madok travelled back and forth in person, holding in his

memory the latest plans and codes.

Mendeb Three filled the forward window. Madok leant

forward and pushed the button marked MANUAL. Soon he

would be in Jerrissar.

The floor vibrated, and the humming that had been so

consistent that Bep-Wor had ceased to notice it suddenly

increased in volume.

„What"s happening?" Bep-Wor whispered to the Doctor.

„We"ll be landing soon," the Doctor said quietly. „On Mendeb

Three, I imagine. Have the sleepers woken yet?"

Bep-Wor lifted his head and looked across the sea of

recumbent prisoners. „If they have, they"re not moving," he

said.

The Doctor pondered for a while. „How many do you think

we saved from taking the narcotic?" he asked.

„Perhaps only half," Bep-Wor replied. „Some ate the soup

knowing it was poisoned. They were very hungry."

„We did what we could," the Doctor said gently. „And we

don"t know what"s in store for us. Perhaps they"ll be better off

than us." He sighed in the darkness. „We have to try to be

ready for anything," he whispered. „Spread the word to

everyone. When the ship lands, we must try to ensure that

the ones who took the drug are taken off first. Then we can

see how they behave, and copy them. I don"t want the guards

to know that we"re not affected."

„I understand, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. „Everyone will do as

you say. They know you will care for us."

Bep-Wor gave the Doctor"s instructions to those around

him who were merely pretending to be asleep, and urged

them to pass on the message. As he lay on his back, staring

at the monstrous girders and panels that disappeared into

the blackness above him, he was surprised to find that he felt

no fear. He was a captive on an unknown world, but he was

intrigued rather than terrified.

It was the Doctor"s presence that made the difference. The

Doctor was a man of power. He revived the dead; he sniffed

out poison; he fed the hungry; he was immune to sleeping

draughts. The Doctor would keep everyone safe.

The vibration stopped after a while, although the noise

remained loud. The sleepers continued to sleep. Then the

floor began to shudder, and the noise became a shriek. Bep-

Wor covered his ears and tried to prevent his body bouncing

up and down. He heard several loud bangs, felt a couple of

violent shocks, and then the noise and the shuddering

gradually quietened. „We"ve landed," the Doctor whispered.

In the eerie silence that ensued Bep-Wor received

whispered communications from across the floor of the

chamber. „Some of the sleepers have woken," he told the

Doctor, „but they"re not stirring. Our people have moved away

from the door. The soldiers will find the sleepers first."

The door slid open. Fresh air flooded through it. Bep-Wor

thought that he could see slanting rays of sunlight in the

corridor beyond, and had to fight an urge to jump up and

shout with relief.

Soldiers stood in the doorway. Bep-Wor squinted at them.

„Different uniforms," he told the Doctor.

„Come on, sleepy-heads," one of the soldiers shouted. „Wake

up. Stand up. Don"t speak. You Twos are slaves. You will do

as I say. Walk slowly to the door. Walk through the door.

Follow the Two in front of you."

Bep-Wor gave the Doctor a mystified glance. Why was the

soldier addressing the prisoners in such a strange manner?

„The chemical in the soup was a complex organic molecule,"

the Doctor whispered. „I believe it acts on the hypothalamus.

Watch."

Near the door men and women were beginning to stand up.

They were among those who had eaten the soup and had

fallen asleep afterwards. Bep-Wor noticed that there was

something strange about their behaviour. They didn"t talk to

each other as they rose; they didn"t even glance at each

other. They didn"t stretch, or scratch, or yawn. They walked

towards the door; one of the soldiers pulled the nearest

prisoner through the doorway and the others followed, one at

a time, exactly as they had been instructed. They looked

straight ahead.

„They"ve become suggestible," the Doctor said. „It"s as if they

have no will of their own." He shook his head sadly. „Well, we

know what we"ve got to do. Stand up, Bep-Wor."

The Doctor stood up, as if unrolling himself from the floor,

and began to walk slowly towards the door. Bep-Wor copied

him, and stole a glance backwards to make sure that all the

others were beginning to follow the Doctor"s lead. They were.

Bep-Wor concentrated on keeping his steps regular and his

face expressionless.

The prisoners threaded along a corridor, down a ramp and

out of the vast metal container. Bep-Wor felt sunlight and a

fresh breeze on his face. Plodding forwards, keeping two

paces behind the Doctor, he peered from the corners of his

eyes to inspect the world of his captors.

The line of prisoners snaked back and forth, slowly filling a

flat square of packed earth. Around the edges of the square

were carriages and carts, some drawn by strange beasts and

the others, Bep-Wor supposed, propelled by machines. Men

sat in the vehicles and stood between them, watching the

prisoners. Some wore military uniforms similar to those worn

by the soldiers who had invaded Bep-Wor"s world; the

remainder were in a bewildering variety of costumes. Beyond

the vehicles there were tents and pavilions, with pennants

fluttering above them. And beyond the tents there was

countryside: meadows, and then woodland, and then hills.

Bep-Wor felt a sudden yearning loss that almost made him

stumble. He could not see the sea. At home, on the

archipelago, the ocean was hardly ever out of sight. The

sheer extent of the land on this world was oppressive.

He heard a shout. „Is that the lot, captain?" The words were

so strangely accented that Bep-Wor could hardly understand

them.

Another voice, from the direction of the transport ship:

„They"re all out, commissioner."

The first voice again: „Twos. Turn towards me."

With a sideways glance to make sure that he was moving in

the same way as the drugged prisoners, Bep-Wor shuffled to

face the direction from which the voice had come.

Standing on a platform at the edge of the square was a big,

bearded man in a resplendent suit of dark brocade. His eyes

swept back and forth along the rows of prisoners; his keen

expression hardly altered, but his lips moved soundlessly.

He"s counting us, Bep-Wor realised.

The commissioner turned to one side and spoke to another,

younger man, much less richly clothed. The young man

listened, and wrote a note on the paper he was holding.

The commissioner peered again at the prisoners. He

seemed to be looking for a particular one. He raised his arm

and pointed. Bep-Wor was grateful that the pointing finger

was not directed at him.

„You," the commissioner said. „The slave with the blue rag

around your neck. Step forward. Stand before me."

Bep-Wor recognised the figure who walked slowly from the

ranks of the prisoners and stopped in front of the platform,

looking up at the commissioner. It was Mor-Pia, the wife of

one of the krake-fishers Bep-Wor had sometimes sailed with.

Bep-Wor had been unable to convince her that the soup was

poisoned: she had eaten it, and had slept.

The voice of the transport"s captain came again from

behind the prisoners" heads. „Don"t worry, commissioner," he

shouted, „they"ve all had a dose of the potion. Every one of

them."

„No harm in checking," the commissioner called back. „Just

a random sample. This one won"t fetch much anyway. She"s

too old and too scrawny."

Bep-Wor knew that something terrible was about to

happen. Mor-Pia stood, unmoving, in front of the platform.

Bep-Wor willed her to run, or at least to take some interest in

her surroundings.

The commissioner leant forward and spoke to her. His voice

carried on the breeze. „What"s your name?" he asked her.

Mor-Pia"s reply was inaudible.

„Mor-Pia," the commissioner said, „place your left hand on

the platform. Here, in front of my feet."

Mor-Pia bent forwards and obeyed.

„The rest of you Twos," the commissioner shouted, „keep

still and keep quiet. Sarid," he added, to the young man at

his side, „bring me an axe from the cart."

A silence fell on the square as the young man hurried

away. Mor-Pia remained motionless, her left arm extended on

the planks between the commissioner"s feet. The pennants

snapped and rustled in the wind.

Bep-Wor stole a sideways glance at the Doctor. The little

man"s face was drawn, and his glittering eyes were fixed on

Mor-Pia.

„Thank you, Sarid," the commissioner said as the young

man, out of breath from running, handed him a small axe.

The blade glinted in the sunlight.

The commissioner bent to place the axe on the platform,

then straightened. „Mor-Pia," he said, „pick up the axe with

your right hand and use it to chop off your left hand."

Bep-Wor saw Mor-Pia"s fingers grip the haft of the axe. He

saw her lift it above her head. She was going to do it.

„Mor-Pia!" shouted a voice. For a moment Bep-Wor believed

he had called out himself. He had wanted to. But the voice

was not his own. It was the Doctor"s. „Mor-Pia! Stop! Put

down the axe."

Bep-Wor turned towards the Doctor. „Keep still, you fool;

the Doctor hissed as he strode forward, pushing between

prisoners as he made his way towards the platform.

Mor-Pia had placed the axe on the platform. She had

turned round, to face the direction from which the Doctor"s

voice had come, but her face showed no expression.

As the Doctor emerged from the ranks of the prisoners half

a dozen soldiers with drawn swords converged on him. He

held up his hands. „Mor-Pia," he called out, „return to your

place in the line."

Without hesitation Mor-Pia walked back into the rows of

prisoners, her face as blank as theirs.

„Come here, you Two," the commissioner shouted to the

Doctor. „Captain!" he called out even more loudly, „I thought

you said every one of these Twos had been dosed."

„So they were," was the answering cry.

„It"s true," the Doctor shouted, struggling to be seen above

the heads of the soldiers surrounding him. „Everyone took

the drug. It affected all the others."

„Bring another dose," the commissioner shouted, and then

he looked down at the Doctor. „Stand clear of him, you clods,"

he told the soldiers. „He"s no threat to us." When the soldiers

had withdrawn a little the commissioner peered down at the

Doctor.

The Doctor lifted his hat. „Hello," he said. „I"m the Doctor.

Whom do I have the pleasure of being ordered around by?"

„Commissioner Dallid," the commissioner said absently. „His

Majesty"s commissioner for the importation of Twos and the

regulation of their sale. You don"t look like any Two I"ve ever

seen."

„I apologise for my appearance," the Doctor said. „I suppose

I have always thought of myself as a unique personality."

„Shut up," the commissioner said. „Are you are a Two? The

same as the rest of these slaves?"

The Doctor drew himself up to his full height. His eyes were

level with Dallid"s knees. „I arrived on the same transport

ship, didn"t I?"

The commissioner turned away in exasperation. The

captain of the transport was approaching, carrying one of the

ship"s beakers.

„Who is this fellow, captain?" the commissioner said. „Are

you Jerrissarians playing some trick on us?"

„I haven"t noticed him during the voyage, commissioner,"

the captain said. „But we don"t inspect the Twos closely. They

all took the potion, though. I"d swear to it."

„This one didn"t," the commissioner growled.

„Oh yes I did," the Doctor said. „It doesn"t affect me. I"m

immune."

„We"ll see about that," the commissioner said. „Take this

bowl of soup. Eat it."

The Doctor took the beaker from the captain"s hands and

brought it reluctantly to his face. „It"s cold," he said. „Have you

no moral scruples at all?"

The commissioner gestured to the guards, who moved

closer to the Doctor and held their sword-points at his body.

„You heartless sadist," the Doctor said. He pinched his nose

with one hand and with the other tipped the contents of the

beaker into his mouth.

He handed the empty beaker to one of the guards. „That

wasn"t too bad," he said. „Rather refreshing. Now then," he

began, but instead of continuing his speech he began to

sway, and then to crumple slowly to the ground.

Bep-Wor couldn"t believe his eyes. The Doctor was

vulnerable after all. Perhaps, while one dose of the poison

was not enough to harm him, two would make him as

mindlessly obedient as Mor-Pia.

„Wake up, slave," the commissioner said. „Stand up and face

me."

The Doctor rose and stood motionless in front of the

platform.

„Step back."

The Doctor moved backwards.

„Stop. Come here again."

The Doctor walked up to the platform.

„Pick up the axe and sever your left hand."

The Doctor picked up the glinting axe. He hefted it in his

hand. „Oh, bother," he said. „All right, you"ve rumbled me.

Still not turned into a mindless zombie. Sorry."

Bep-Wor wanted to shout and cheer. Instead he released as

a sigh the breath he had been holding in his chest. Most of

the undrugged prisoners reacted in the same way to the

Doctor"s miraculous recovery, and the multiple exhalation

sounded like a sudden gust of wind across the square.

The commissioner looked up with a puzzled frown, and

then returned his attention to the Doctor, who had pulled his

handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers and was wiping

it across his brow.

„It"s warm work," the Doctor said, „processing all those

toxins and complex organic compounds."

„Oh, shut up," the commissioner said, „you irritating little

man. You"re going to the capital. The King"s interrogators will

want to see you. Then you"ll be only too pleased to talk.

Captain, I"m not paying you for this one."

The captain protested that it was not his fault that the

Doctor was immune to the potion, and an argument ensued.

Bep-Wor, meanwhile, was racking his brains to think of a

way to remain with the Doctor.

Even if he could organise the prisoners to act together, to

run away or to attack the soldiers, he realised that they

would be cut down by the soldiers" swords and guns. The

only thing he could think of was to convince the

commissioner that all of the prisoners were in some way

unusual.

He kept his head lowered. He took a deep breath. In a low,

resonating voice he intoned the single word, „Doctor."

He didn"t dare to look up to find out whether the

commissioner had heard him. „Doctor," he said again in a

deep voice.

The commissioner and the captain had stopped arguing.

There was a long silence. Then, from the row behind Bep-

Wor, another voice boomed. „Doctor."

Bep-Wor briefly lifted his eyes. The commissioner wasn"t

looking in his direction. „Doctor," he called again.

A third voice rang out. Then a fourth, and then a fifth.

Soon the sepulchral word „Doctor" was echoing around the

square as prisoner after prisoner joined in the ragged chorus.

Bep-Wor looked from side to side. He was amazed to see

that even some of the prisoners who had taken the drug were

intoning the word.

„Quiet!" the commissioner yelled. „Twos, be silent."

The swelling chorus receded and died away. Once again the

only noise in the square was the fluttering of the flags.

Into the hiatus Bep-Wor spoke again. ‘Doctor.’

And the word was repeated by another voice, and another,

and then from prisoners" mouths across the square.

„Silence!" the commissioner roared. His face was red above

his beard. The prisoners took no heed, and the word „Doctor"

continued to ebb and flow like a tide washing through the

ranks of motionless, expressionless slaves.

The Doctor jumped on to the platform and stood between

the commissioner and the captain. He raised his arms, and

lowered them slowly. The prisoners" voices faded.

„Crowd control," the Doctor said to the commissioner. „It"s a

matter of charisma. You"ve either got it or you haven"t."

The commissioner ignored him. „I"m withholding payment

for the entire consignment," he told the captain. „You can

argue about it later. I"ve got twenty traders who have come

here to buy and I"ll have to tell them they"ve had a wasted

journey. That"s my priority. They won"t be happy. I suggest

that you and your men wait on your ship. I"ll see you later."

He stood with his hand on his hips and his beard jutting

belligerently above the Doctor"s head towards the captain.

„We did everything correctly," the captain said mildly.

„Perhaps this batch of the potion was sub-standard. In which

case I"ll be requiring compensation from you. As you say,

we"ll meet later." He turned on his heel and stepped from the

platform.

The commissioner watched him leave. „Sarid!" he shouted.

Muster all of our men. And any of the King"s guards you can

find. I want them here now. And I want these Twos - every

one of them - in chains. Hire manacles from the traders if we

don"t have enough. They"re all coming back to the capital

with us." He turned to the Doctor. „This one," he said, „I want

particularly well secured."

Tragar had resisted as long as he could. Each day the

overseer brought him a report on the new slave"s progress,

and each day he had conquered the urge to see for himself.

But it had been almost a week since Ace had arrived in the

house, and he was burning with curiosity to see her again.

Therefore he had rescheduled his regular meeting with

Bared about the household budget, he had brought forward

his discussion with Balon"s chef about the menu for the

evening"s banquet, and he had the afternoon to himself.

He had smoked a pipe to relax his nerves: talking to the

chef, particularly when a large dinner was in prospect, was

always trying. He had dressed in one of his more colourful

coats. As he stood before the mirror, inspecting his face and

failing to find any pimples or protruding nostril hairs, he

suddenly laughed aloud.

I"m preening myself, he thought, as if I"m about to have an

assignation with the wife of one of Balon"s guards. All this for

a mere slave.

He heard a knock at the door.

„Come in, Poa-Nan," he called. He had recognised the Two"s

hesitant raps.

Poa-Nan came into the room. Tragar didn"t turn, but by

looking in the mirror he was able to study his manservant.

Poa-Nan stood with his hands folded together on his slightly

rotund stomach. He had a gentle smile on his lips. He was

gazing at the floor.

There was something unnerving about Twos, Tragar

thought. He wondered how they behaved on their home

world, without the benefit of the potion that made them so

obedient. The traders said that Twos, in their natural habitat,

were savages. Looking at Poa-Nan, Tragar found that hard to

believe.

Still, they were cheap. That was the main thing. Always

willing to serve, and never requiring to be paid. Tragar had

invested wisely, and had been able to replace several of his

servants with Twos. He had already saved in servants" wages

more than he had paid for the Twos.

He wondered, not the first time, how long Poa-Nan would

stand and wait if he ignored him. For ever, he supposed, or

at least until he collapsed from hunger or exhaustion. The

first instruction that Twos were given, long before they were

sold to their owners, was to speak only when spoken to.

He sighed. Twos were cheap, but real servants were better

conversationalists. „Yes, Poa-Nan?" he said.

Poa-Nan lifted his head. „The overseer says that she is at

your disposal, sir."

„Thank you, Poa-Nan," Tragar said. Why did he bother to be

polite? It was wasted on Twos. Force of habit, that was all.

„Go and tell her I"ll be there shortly. Then proceed with your

chores."

„Yes, sir." Poa-Nan plodded from the room.

Tragar spent another few minutes in front of the mirror,

impatiently plucking from his coat almost imperceptible loose

threads. Having told Poa-Nan to announce his visit, he now

had to wait for the Two to carry out the mission.

He couldn"t wait any longer. He had to know how his new

slave was shaping up. He corrected himself: Ace belonged to

Balon Ferud, and Balon would be unhappy if she proved to

be worth less than the exorbitant price his chamberlain had

paid for her.

Anxiety clenched Tragar"s innards. He strode to the door.

Such was Tragar"s preoccupation that for once he forgot to

count as he hurried along the length of the corridor that

connected the rooms that made up his suite of apartments. It

was ninety-seven paces from the door of his study to the top

of the main staircase of the east wing. The corridor in Bared"s

apartments in the west wing was only eighty-three paces

long. The differential never failed to provide Tragar with a

warm glow of satisfaction. Whenever Tragar found himself

having to listen politely while Bared censured him for

overspending by a few marks on anything from fine wines to

household repairs, Tragar would repeat to himself: you are

merely the keeper of the accounts, while I am the

chamberlain - and my corridor is longer than yours.

Tragar clattered down the back stairs. He descended from

the realm of airy rooms with tinted window glass, hanging

tapestries and thick carpets into the lower depths of Balon"s

residence. Here the flagstones and walls were bare, and

daylight streamed in through small, high windows.

He slowed his pace. As he looked from left to right he saw

Twos at work: rolling out pastry in the kitchen, stacking logs

next to the ovens, scrubbing the floor of the meat store.

These were Tragar"s own Twos: in the lower floors of the

central block of the mansion, an army of Balon"s Twos were

no doubt performing the same tasks on a much grander

scale.

It irked Tragar that Bared owned more Twos than he did.

But Tragar had to admit, although only to himself, that he

found the presence of even his own few Twos slightly

unsettling. Apart from Poa-Nan he didn"t know their names,

and he rarely visited the lower floors of his apartments. His

reliable overseer, Rigora, managed the Twos: she was his

chamberlain, just as he was Balon Ferud"s.

He strode into the cubicle - a square room between the

kitchen and the dry store - that Rigora used as her office.

Rigora was seated behind her desk. Her meaty arms were

resting on piles of ledgers and provisioners" bills. Her cheeks

were flushed. Tragar wondered whether she had been at the

wine already, and if so whether he should upbraid her. He

decided to ignore the problem: he didn"t want to aggravate

her, she was entitled to her perks, and in any case he had

other business on his mind.

The other business was standing beside the desk. As he

had instructed, Ace was wearing a new tunic and new

trousers modelled on those she had been wearing when he

had bought her. Like any other Two waiting for orders she

was gazing at the floor with a vacant smile on her face.

„Chamberlain," Rigora said with a nod.

„Good afternoon, Rigora," Tragar said. His eyes scanned the

room. It was a long time since he"d visited Rigora in her den:

normally he summoned her to his study. How could she work

in such clutter and gloom, he wondered?

„Any difficulties today, overseer, down here in your

subterranean workshops?"

Rigora shifted her weight from one ham to the other. „None

worth bothering you with, chamberlain."

„Ah, good." With the formalities over Tragar could devote his

attention to the intriguing new slave. He turned to Ace and

inspected her.

Rigora had been keeping her clean and well fed, he noted

with satisfaction. The overseer"s standards were usually high,

but he"d known the overseer to ignore his instructions on

occasion. He looked behind Ace"s ears and pulled back the

neck of her shirt: thoroughly scrubbed. He sniffed. The girl

smelt clean, too: in fact he detected a hint of cheap scent,

which to his surprise made him tremble with a sudden

physical desire.

He stepped back. Rigora had been tending this slave

particularly conscientiously. The new outfit had been

competently tailored, presumably by another of the Twos,

and Rigora hadn"t skimped on the quality of the cloth. Tragar

was not surprised that the overseer hadn"t been able to find a

match for the heavy material of Ace"s original trousers, but

the black linen was a suitable substitute, and the new

garment clung to the girl"s legs even more tightly than the

old. The new black shirt was an improvement, too: as before

Ace"s arms were left scandalously bare, but now she had

buttons and a collar, so that the costume was more than ever

a parody of respectable attire.

„You like what you see, chamberlain?" Rigora said. She was

leaning forward, and her vast bosom was flattened against

the piles of paperwork on her desk. Tragar thought that she

might be preparing to lift herself out of her chair.

„You"ve done well, overseer," he said. „At least in the matter

of appearances. Has she taken instruction well?"

„Well enough." There was a pause while Rigora pushed

herself from her chair. „I"ve reported every day, as you know.

Ask her, if you want. She"ll tell you."

„I will, overseer." Tragar turned again to Ace. „Tell me, Ace,

what have you been taught here? Can you remember what

you learnt on your first day?"

„Yes, sir," Ace said. Her face was more animated now, she

was looking and smiling at Tragar. „That"s easy. I did basic

duties, eating and washing, forms of address, and the rules

of the household."

„Very good, Ace. And on the second day?"

„The routine chores of the kitchen, sir. I"m a wizard with a

mop and bucket now."

Tragar couldn"t help laughing, and when he did so Ace"s

smile widened. She really was a remarkable discovery.

Despite the effects of the potion the embers of her personality

still glowed within her.

Rigora misunderstood Tragar"s fascination with Ace. „Don"t

you worry, chamberlain," she said, „she"s been properly

processed, even though she sometimes answers back a mite

too freely. But I"ve trained her in kitchen, deportment, table

service, even a bit of cooking, and she always does as she"s

told. Ask her about the hot plates. Go on."

„Very well." Mystified, Tragar addressed Ace. „Tell me about

the hot plates, Ace."

„Yes, sir," Ace said brightly. „Madam Rigora told me to take

six clean white plates from the kitchen to the bakery. I saw

clean white plates on the range, so I picked up six of them

and took them to the bakery. They were the wrong plates.

They were hot." Ace held up her hands. They were bandaged.

Tragar spun round. „She"s damaged," he cried. „Have you

any idea how much of Balon"s cash I spent buying her? What

have you done?"

„Don"t fuss," the overseer said. „It was just a mistake. Every

Two gets the odd knock during training. She"s young. She"ll

heal. The point is, she didn"t make a scene or drop the plates.

She"s properly processed, like I said."

„And how do you feel, Ace?" Tragar asked. It was a question

he"d never previously thought to ask a Two, and he wondered

how Ace would reply.

Ace pursed her lips as she thought about her answer. „I feel

all right, thank you, sir," she said. „No worries."

Behind him, Rigora snorted. „Stupid question," she huffed.

„Twos feel whatever we tell them to feel. Rest of the time, they

don"t feel anything much. Not such a bad life, if you ask me.

It beats worrying about these bloody butchers" bills."

She shuffled towards the door. „Come along, chamberlain,"

she said, „I"ve got something to show you. Ace, follow me."

The overseer led Tragar out into the passageway, and

stopped at a pair of wooden doors that were black with age.

„Where are we going?" Tragar asked, while Rigora struggled

with the latch. He couldn"t remember ever seeing these doors

open, and he didn"t want to admit that he had no idea what

lay beyond them.

„You"ll see," Rigora said, panting from her exertions. „She"s

full of surprises, that one. Ah! That"s it."

The latch gave way, and the overseer pulled open the doors.

Daylight illuminated the stone corridor, revealing stains and

mildew that had passed unnoticed for years. The doors gave

on to a small courtyard: its floor was flat stones, its four

sides were the grimy walls of the east wing"s kitchens and

outhouses, and it was open to the sky. There were no other

doors.

Standing in one corner was a Two: Tragar recognised him

as the one who usually worked in the meat store. He was a

big, ugly fellow, and he looked no better on this occasion for

being stripped to the waist. Tragar noticed with alarm that

the Two was carrying a cleaver, and his hand went

automatically to the hilt of his sword.

„Rigora," Tragar said from the corner of his mouth, as if he

didn"t want the Two to hear him, „what"s that brute doing

here?"

„Don"t fret, chamberlain," the overseer said. „I put him in

here earlier. Like I said, I"ve got something to show you. Now

let me have a word with young Ace."

Rigora beckoned to Ace. „You remember, Ace," she said,

„what you did here yesterday afternoon? With the lad from

the kitchen? Well, when I say the word, you just do the same

again. Understand?"

„Yes, madam," Ace replied. Then, to Tragar"s surprise, she

looked at her empty, bandaged hands, and a confused

expression appeared on her face.

„Don"t worry, dear," Rigora said. „There"s your stick, in the

corner. Make yourself ready, then pick it up."

Tragar looked into the corner of the yard, but was

immediately distracted. Ace was removing her clothes.

„Overseer!" he said. „What licentiousness are you

proposing?" He was appalled and, he realised with a pang of

self-disgust, excited in equal measure at the thought of Ace

performing with the Two from the meat store. He couldn"t

take his eyes from her.

Rigora laughed: an unpleasant, gurgling sound. „None

whatsoever," she replied. „She"s just getting ready. Stand in

the doorway with me, chamberlain. And prepare to be

amazed."

There was barely enough room in the doorway for both the

chamberlain and the overseer. Tragar was slender, but

Rigora more than made up for his narrow girth. Ace, without

a thought for her own modesty, had removed her shirt and

her trousers. She was wearing only a cloth tied around her

bosom, a pair of brief shorts, and heavy boots. In her hands

was the stick she had collected from the corner of the yard: it

was in fact no mere stick, Tragar saw, but a staff of seasoned

wood.

Ace and the male Two stood impassively in the courtyard.

„Good-looking, for a Two, isn"t she?" Rigora said.

Tragar shrugged.

The overseer chuckled. „Ready to be amazed, then?" she

asked. Without waiting for an answer she called out, „Ace!

Har-Gur! Fight each other."

„What?" Tragar struggled to turn in the doorway to face his

overseer. „Are you mad? He"s twice her size. And he"s got a

meat-axe."

Rigora merely laughed. „Just you watch," she said.

Ace and Har-Gur circled each other for a while. Both were

eerily silent, and the only sound was the padding of their feet

on the stones. Ace began to lunge with the staff, forcing Har-

Gur to parry. Tragar was no warrior, but he had seen Balon"s

household troops in training, and he knew that Ace"s

technique was poor. Her movements were awkward when

they should have been fluid; her opponent was able to predict

the swing of her staff. Nonetheless, Tragar couldn"t deny that

guiltily he was enjoying watching her move.

Ace stepped back, opened her mouth, and emitted a howl

that echoed around the towering walls. Then she attacked.

The fight was over within seconds. The staff in Ace"s hands

became a blur; her arms worked like the pistons of a steam

engine. She pressed forward, driving Har-Gur into a corner.

Tragar closed his eyes as he heard the sound of the staff

striking Har-Gur"s flesh. The Two sank to his knees, and still

Ace harried him with the end of the staff.

„Stop!" Rigora shouted.

Ace immediately became still. Her bosom heaved as she

drew in deep breaths. Her legs shone with the sweat of her

exertions.

„Well, chamberlain," Rigora said, jolting Tragar from his

reverie. „What do you think? I reckon she could be one for the

arena. That"s big money, if she"s good enough."

„Indeed, overseer," Tragar said. „It"s unusual to find a Two

who retains so much spirit."

„You"re not wrong there," Rigora said. „I"m glad I didn"t meet

this one before she had the potion."

Tragar grunted in agreement. His eyes were once again

fixed on Ace. She was a Two with many possibilities. He"d

considered her as an amusing domestic, but she might be

more valuable fighting in the arenas. Then again, she would

earn back Balon"s investment many times over, Tragar now

realised, if she were trained for pleasure.

Tragar had no doubt. He had secured for Balon Ferud a

most valuable asset.

Some of the traders had insisted on buying Twos: they had

arrived with specific commissions from aristocratic patrons,

and they refused to leave the landing-site with nothing to

show for their journeys. Commissioner Dallid had been

unable to resist the cash offers, and had set up an informal,

hurried auction at which he disposed of a few score of the

most obviously docile Twos.

The remainder - one hundred and fifty-three men and

women - were put in chains as they stood in the square.

There were still some among them who had eaten the

drugged soup, and who were as a result without any will of

their own; the majority, Bep-Wor reckoned, were, like him,

merely pretending.

Bep-Wor had a manacle bolted around each of his wrists. A

length of chain connected the manacles. Surreptitiously he

tested the strength of the metal: it was heavy, well-made iron,

and he knew that he would not be able to remove the

shackles without a hammer and a pick.

The Doctor"s bonds were much more substantial: his

ankles, as well as his wrists, were shackled, and a long chain

was wrapped around his torso. He was carried away,

struggling, and placed in a cart.

Bep-Wor could think of nothing better to do than to endure

the chains, continue the pretence of being affected by the

drug, and wait. Bep-Wor was the Doctor"s mouthpiece, and

the other prisoners were becoming accustomed to following

his lead. Therefore they also waited.

Bep-Wor, tanned from years of working in the fields and on

board ship, was used to the heat of the sun. But he had

never before known it to shine directly above his head. He

marvelled at his own shadow: a black patch around his feet.

On his home world the sun was always low in the sky, and

shadows were always long. As he stood staring for hour after

hour at the dusty ground, Bep-Wor fought back the waves of

homesickness and despair that threatened to overwhelm

him.

He told himself he had to be strong. He was the Doctor"s

chief follower, and all the others were depending on him.

While he was alive and still had his wits, there was a chance

he might find Kia-Ga. The Doctor would not let his followers

remain chained for long. There was hope.

The sun had passed its zenith, and the midday heat had

begun to dissipate, before the prisoners were moved. The

auction had ended: some of the traders had disappeared into

their tents, and others had trundled away in their vehicles

with their purchases stumbling behind. The soldiers from the

transport ship had long since retired inside their vessel.

Commissioner Dallid and his staff were in their pavilion, and

apart from half a dozen guards the lines of prisoners were the

only people to be seen across the wide panorama of the

valley.

Now, at last there was movement. Bep-Wor lifted his head a

little, and saw the commissioner"s assistant, Sarid, emerge

from the pavilion. He was clutching a bulging purse. He

called to two of the guards, and strode to the enclosure where

several large, four-legged beasts were standing lazily in the

sun.

The animals were taller than any Bep-Wor had seen on his

own world, but it was clear that the men were going to ride

them. Bep-Wor could see that with their long legs the

animals would make good speed. As the commissioner"s

assistant and the two guards mounted their steeds and

galloped away in a cloud of dust, Bep-Wor concluded that the

threesome was an advance party: the commissioner had sent

them ahead, with a purse of money, to procure food and

lodging for the unexpectedly large host which the

commissioner was bringing with him.

Sure enough, shortly afterwards the commissioner and four

more of his underlings emerged from the pavilion. The

commissioner stood and watched while his staff carried bags

and bundles from the pavilion to the three nearby carts. After

a while a thought struck him, and he strolled to one of the

carts, knocked on the side, called out, and waited for a reply.

Bep-Wor realised that he was checking that the Doctor was

still in the cart.

The guards abandoned their posts near the prisoners and

went to fetch animals from the enclosure. As some of the

animals were saddled, and others were manoeuvred between

the thills of the carts, Bep-Wor realised that no one was

guarding the prisoners. He dismissed the idea of escape as

soon as it arose in his mind: they wouldn"t get far burdened

with heavy chains, and Bep-Wor had no way of knowing in

which direction to lead them. In any case, he wouldn"t leave

the Doctor.

A thunderous clattering interrupted Bep-Wor"s thoughts.

He squinted towards the pavilion, and saw smoke issuing

from the back of a vehicle parked next to the carts. It was the

type of vehicle that moved by itself, without the need for

draught animals: Bep-Wor had seen many of these machines

on his own world. There the noise and appearance of the

machines had scared him: they were alien, and the invaders

used them for destruction. Now, he realised, he was no

longer afraid. He had seen the worst that the invaders could

do, and he had survived; he had been transported from his

world to theirs, and he had survived; they had tried to poison

him and destroy his will, and he had survived. They might

yet enslave him, or even kill him. But at least he"d never

again hide from the sound of their raucous machines.

It seemed to him that he had the Doctor to thank for that.

The motorised vehicle, with the commissioner inside it,

started to move. The cart containing the Doctor followed it.

The guards, mounted on their steeds, rode towards the

prisoners.

„March!" they shouted. „Come on, you lazy Twos, get

moving. Follow the cart. Don"t stop until you"re told to."

The rows of prisoners unravelled into a single line, plodding

in step behind the cart. The long column wound away from

the square, and on to a road that ran along the valley,

between fields full of crops and types of trees that Bep-Wor

had never seen before.

The line of prisoners marched up hills, through a narrow

pass overhung by rocks, down a corniche road perched half-

way up the side of a gorge, into a wide valley, and across a

sluggish stream. Bep-Wor, who had lived all his life on

islands dotted across the ocean, could hardly comprehend

the vast majesty of the landscape.

There were no stops for rest or refreshment. Having been

dosed with the drug, the prisoners were expected to obey

instructions: they would walk until they were told to stop

walking. Bep-Wor"s feet were blistered and his legs ached: he

wondered how Hap-Lor was managing to keep up the pace.

The sun had descended into a bank of clouds beyond the

distant peaks of a range of mountains, and had stained the

horizon a vivid crimson. Bep-Wor, his feet moving

automatically beneath him, didn"t realise that both the day

and the journey were coming to an end until he walked

between two stone pillars and found himself on a track

illuminated by flaming torches.

The place was a farm. Bep-Wor recognised the smells, the

wooden fencing, the barns and outhouses. Despite the

weariness of his limbs he smiled: he was pleased that farms

were the same, even when worlds apart.

The mounted guards rode alongside the line of prisoners.

„Turn left at the end of the path," they shouted. „Into the

stockade. Then stop walking. Find somewhere to lie down.

You can rest. Don"t leave the stockade."

Bep-Wor stumbled along the prescribed route, and into a

fenced area of dry earth already milling with the prisoners

who had preceded him. His legs felt as heavy as anchors, and

the manacles were chafing his wrists. He was so tired that he

was no longer hungry or thirsty. He wanted only to find a

space in which to stretch his aching body on the ground.

The daylight was failing fast, but Bep-Wor saw that the

fenced area included an open-fronted barn with a thatched

roof, as well as a farmhouse. The barn contained hay: it

looked to Bep-Wor as welcoming as a feather bed. Also in the

barn was a cart - the cart that contained the Doctor.

In an instant Bep-Wor forgot his weariness: like many of

the prisoners, he began to amble towards, and then into, the

barn. He risked looking over his shoulders, and found that

no guards were watching over the stockade. They thought

they could be sure that the obedient prisoners would make

no attempt to escape.

Bep-Wor straightened his shoulders and made straight for

the cart. A crowd of prisoners was already pressed around it,

and more were converging all the time.

As he approached, Bep-Wor heard the prisoners" whispered

conversation.

„Is the Doctor in there?"

„Somebody should look."

„Here comes Bep-Wor. Let him through."

Bep-Wor found the throng of prisoners parting before him.

„It"s all right," he said, „we can speak freely. The guards

have gone to the farmhouse. We"d be free if it weren"t for

these chains. Has anyone spoken with the Doctor?"

„No, Bep-Wor," said a tall man standing at the tailgate of the

cart. „We were waiting for you." Bep-Wor recognised the man

as Lep-Tar: he had been a merchant and investor, based in

Porgum, and had once refused to loan Bep-Wor the funds to

purchase seed-corn. Now, wearing rags and chains, he

deferred to Bep-Wor.

„Help me up," Bep-Wor said. „Lep-Tar, make a step with

your hands."

Lep-Tar locked his fingers together to form a stirrup, into

which Bep-Wor placed his left foot. He reached up and

gripped the top of the tailgate. Lep-Tar straightened, lifting

Bep-Wor up, and Bep-Wor was able to pull himself over the

tailgate and into the cart. He landed with a jangle of chains.

„Bep-Wor," the Doctor said. „How nice of you to drop in."

„Doctor," Bep-Wor said, crawling on his hands and knees

and feeling his way. „Where are you?" The interior of the cart

was dark, and crammed with oddly shaped bundles any one

of which could have been the Doctor"s chained body.

„Up here," the Doctor said.

Bep-Wor raised his eyes and saw the unmistakable

silhouette of the Doctor, with his hat perched on his head. He

was sitting on a bulging sack, his knees drawn up to his

chin.

Bep-Wor reined in his exclamation of amazement. He

wondered whether he was beginning to get used to being

amazed by the Doctor. He sat on his haunches.

„Doctor," he said. „I can see you"re no longer in chains. How

did you break free?"

„Ah," the Doctor said. „Have I mentioned that I once knew

Harry Houdini? The name wouldn"t mean anything to you, of

course. He was an escapologist. Taught me every trick he

knew."

„And which trick did you use to escape today?"

The Doctor"s teeth gleamed in the darkness. „None of them,

as a matter of fact. I was getting very uncomfortable in the

back of this cart. Appalling suspension. I was being jolted

about like a die in a shaker. So I just wriggled, and the chain

around me fell off. I think they forgot to fasten it. Then I

pulled my hands through the manacles - it"s one of the

advantages of having slim, artistic hands - and then, once I"d

taken my shoes off, I did the same with the rings round my

ankles. I think the chains were made for someone much

larger than me."

The Doctor rubbed his wrists and ankles. „It"s all very

tiresome," he said. „Being held prisoner restricts one"s

freedom of movement, I find. I haven"t got time for

imprisonment. I really must get on with looking for Ace."

Bep-Wor shook his head. He thought that he"d never

understand the Doctor. There was a knocking on the side of

the cart. The prisoners were impatient to know whether their

saviour was safe. Bep-Wor had an idea.

„Doctor," he said, „stand up. On those barrels. I"ll come up

with you. Spread your arms."

Bep-Wor could imagine how the Doctor looked from among

the crowd gathered around the cart. The Doctor, with Bep-

Wor beside him, suddenly appeared above the crowd with his

arms outspread, wordlessly demonstrating that he had freed

himself from the chains that had bound him.

The prisoners gasped in unison. „Doctor!" one of them cried

out, and others took up the shout, which became a repetitive

chant. „Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!"

As the Doctor and Bep-Wor tried to silence the chanting,

prisoners from all over the compound were drawn to the

noise. Soon the rest of the stockade was deserted: all of the

prisoners were in the barn, standing round the cart, looking

up at the little man who could not be enslaved by poison or

held by chains.

„Someone"s coming," the Doctor said, and jumped down into

the cart, out of sight.

Bep-Wor peered into the empty stockade, illuminated now

only by the last glimmerings of the pale sky above the

mountains and the dancing light from the torches. There

were soldiers standing at the gates. Bep-Wor saw them

looking about, puzzled by the absence of prisoners. They

drew their swords, opened the gates, and proceeded

cautiously across the packed earth. Beyond them there were

more people, walking in a line, carrying burdens from the

direction of the farmhouse.

„It"s all right," one of the soldiers shouted to the others. „I

can see them. They"re all in the barn." Bep-Wor could hear

the relief in his voice. „I was beginning to think we"d lost the

whole lot."

Bep-Wor gestured with his hands, telling the prisoners to

move away from the cart. By the time the first soldier arrived

in the barn the prisoners were milling about, silent and

apparently purposeless. Bep-Wor could hear the Doctor

moving: it sounded as if he was wrestling with the chains he

had discarded.

„Right then, you Twos," the soldier shouted. „Form a line.

One behind the other. There"s food on the way. Step forward

one at a time. Take your food. Move away. Eat the food. Don"t

come back for more."

„Help me get out," the Doctor said to Bep-Wor. „I have to

taste the food."

The Doctor had struggled back into his shackles. Bep-Wor

pulled him up to the top of the cart"s side, and winced as he

heard him fall to the ground. Bep-Wor followed. With their

heads lowered, and walking somnolently, Bep-Wor and the

Doctor emerged from behind the cart and attempted to look

aimless as they made their way to the front of the winding

line of prisoners.

The soldiers were paying little attention. They were

slapping their hands against their arms, trying to warm

themselves. A chill wind was gusting across the stockade.

The jangling of chains died away: the prisoners were

standing in a line which snaked across the floor of the barn.

The Doctor was at the head of the queue, and Bep-Wor was

behind him. Bep-Wor saw that the five women carrying food

from the farmhouse were more of his people: Twos,

unthinkingly obeying the instructions of the soldiers.

„Set the cauldron down here," one of the soldiers said to the

women, indicating a space just inside the barn. „Bread here.

You know how to serve this up? Half a loaf and a ladle of

stew for each person."

„Yes, sir," the women said in unison.

„Right then," the soldier said. He called to his companions.

„We"ll leave them to it. They"ve all got their orders. Should be

no trouble. Let"s get out of this wind and into that back

parlour."

„Let"s get into that bottle of brandy," another soldier

shouted back. They sheathed their swords and loped towards

the farmhouse.

Wordlessly the five women began to prepare the food. One

removed the lid from the cauldron; another stirred the

contents with a ladle; the remainder started to unpack loaves

of bread from baskets, and tear them in half. The loaves were

hollow, and the woman with the ladle poured a helping of

stew into the half-loaf proffered by her companion. The first

meal was ready. The Doctor stepped forward.

Bep-Wor could hardly bear the suspense. The smell of the

stew had made him suddenly ravenous, and he was sure that

all the other prisoners shared his hunger. If the stew proved

to be dosed with the potion, he wasn"t sure that he would be

able to prevent himself, let alone anyone else, from eating it.

The brew from the Doctor"s flask was delicious and

invigorating, but it wasn"t substantial. His stomach was

keening for solid sustenance.

The Doctor bit into the bread and slurped at the stew

contained within it. He chewed contemplatively. He craned

his neck to check that the soldiers were out of sight and out

of earshot.

„It"s delicious," he said. And quite safe. The bread has been

made with a yeast that could prove dangerous to the

Sontaran physiognomy, but I"m fairly sure it"s harmless for

humans."

There were times when Bep-Wor found the Doctor"s gnomic

utterances particularly trying. His stomach rumbled. „So we

can eat it, Doctor?"

„Oh, yes," the Doctor said. „Of course. Here, take mine." He

handed his dripping half-loaf to Bep-Wor. „Shall we converse

with the canteen staff while our comrades are taking their

dinner?"

The Doctor and Bep-Wor stood by the cauldron while the

women served stew to the prisoners one at a time. From their

position they could reassure everyone that the stew was safe

to eat, they could keep watch in the direction of the

farmhouse - and the Doctor could chat with the women who

were serving the food.

Bep-Wor took no part in the conversation at first, as he was

completely preoccupied with filling his stomach. The stew

was hot and tasty, and the bread was freshly baked. Never

had a meal been so welcome.

„Hello," the Doctor said, doffing his hat to the women. They

didn"t look at him. „I expect you"ve been told not to talk to the

Twos. But it"s all right. I"m not a Two. So you can talk to me."

The five women paused in their work. They frowned.

„I"m the Doctor," the Doctor said. „And I say that you are

permitted to talk to me."

„The Doctor is our leader," Bep-Wor added, hastily

swallowing a mouthful of bread. „He is the leader of the Twos.

You must do as he says."

The women looked at the Doctor. „Yes, sir," they said

together.

The Doctor recoiled slightly from their ardent gaze. „You," he

said, beckoning to the woman who had least to do. „Come

here and talk with us. This is Bep-Wor, my friend and

companion.

„ What"s your name?"

The woman stepped from her place behind the bread

baskets and stood between the Doctor and Bep-Wor. Her

expressionless eyes were directed at the Doctor"s face. „My

name is Sab-Ma, sir."

„Where are you from, Sab-Ma?" the Doctor asked.

„Tilk," the woman replied.

The Doctor looked at Bep-Wor, who bolted down another

mouthful in order to speak.

„It"s a village on the island of Yollund," he said. „To the

southeast of my island. Very warm climate. Good fishing."

„I see," the Doctor said. „And how long have you been

working on this farm, Sab-Ma of Tilk?"

Sab-Ma frowned again. Bep-Wor assumed that she was out

of the habit of thinking for herself. „Two hundred days, sir,"

she said, although she sounded uncertain and Bep-Wor

thought it unlikely that she had counted the days. It was

unlikely, after all, that her owners had instructed her to keep

track of time, and Bep-Wor now realised that anyone who

had taken the potion would do only those things that he or

she was told to do. Sab-Ma did nothing of her own accord.

„Are you happy?" Bep-Wor blurted out. He needed to know

what Sab-Ma felt about her new life as a slave on a strange

world.

Sab-Ma looked confused.

„Are you content?" the Doctor put in.

At this, Sab-Ma smiled. She suddenly looked alive and

attractive. „Yes, thank you, sir," she said. „I am very content

with my work and my accommodation."

The Doctor smiled sadly and shook his head. „And have you

been told that you should be content?" he asked.

Sab-Ma continued to smile. „Yes, sir," she said. „The master

and the mistress have told me that I must always be content,

and I am."

Bep-Wor closed his eyes. He had eaten his meal too

quickly: he felt queasy. He considered how close he had been

to drinking the soup containing the drug, and he felt even

sicker. It was the most evil potion imaginable: its victims

were left with no will, no personality, no feelings of their own.

The Doctor"s thoughts had apparently been running along

the same path. „If this has been done to Ace," he muttered to

himself, „I will never forgive myself. I must find her."

Bep-Wor was determined to seek out whatever spark of

individuality remained within Sab-Ma. „You are permitted to

tell us your own feelings," he urged her. „You must have

feelings of your own." The woman looked at him: her face was

blank. „Has anything made you sad?" he asked, his voice

rising in desperation. „Tell me about something that has

happened recently that you didn"t like."

Sab-Ma"s face contorted as she tried to obey Bep-Wor"s

instruction. „A new Two," she said at last. „A new one came, a

few days ago. But the master sold her again, very soon. She"s

gone now. It was good to have another Two at the farm. I was

sad when she went. Her name was Kia-Ga."

The Duchy of Jerrissar was not a single, contiguous tract of

land. It was a name that Vethran had invented, when he had

granted Kedin a dukedom, to encompass Kedin"s various

landholdings. Kedin"s ancestral lands were small: a county in

the north of the central continent, mountainous even in its

most fertile parts and extending into the high, frozen wastes

above the tropic. Kedin had added to this through chance

inheritance, by purchasing small tracts of land, and through

the generosity of Vethran, who gifted conquered territories to

Kedin in return for Kedin"s military achievements and

technological innovations.

To complicate matters further, Kedin"s influence extended

over domains that were not included in the Duchy of

Jerrissar: Tevana held lands in her own right, as to a lesser

extent did a handful of aristocrats who were Kedin"s allies.

This patchwork of estates, from the largest, which

contained an inland sea, to the smallest, which was no more

than a town and the hill it stood on, constituted the bastions

from which the onslaught on Gonfallon would be launched.

Most of the territories were, like Gonfallon itself, in the

planet"s central continent. Some of Kedin"s holdings were, in

feet, within the Duchy of Gonfallon, and were held by him as

fiefs from Vethran; the remainder were dotted around and

threaded between the sprawling lands which Vethran had

accumulated for himself.

In theory, since Vethran had proclaimed himself King, all

lands in all three continents belonged to him and were held

by others entirely at his pleasure; in practice Vethran still

relied on the ancient families to administer those lands which

he did not directly rule.

The estates of Kedin Ashar - even the province of Harran,

whose highly productive prairies stretched like a golden

carpet into the heart of Gonfallon - were particularly safe

from Vethran"s acquisitive nature. Kedin and Vethran,

Jerrissar and Gonfallon, were dependent on each other. Each

was the other"s most valuable trading partner. And Kedin"s

troops were a match for Vethran"s.

Therefore, although the overthrow of Vethran would be

carried out by shock troops arriving directly from the space

station, the attack would begin on land: a multiplicity of

pincer movements, emerging from Kedin"s domains and

striking into Gonfallon.

Madok was bringing the order of battle to the commander

of Kedin"s household troops.

Jerrissar - the province, rather than the entire duchy on

which its name had been conferred - was one of Kedin"s

earliest territorial acquisitions. He had bought it, cheaply,

from the old Count of Larriman, who had considered

Jerrissar the least valuable of his lands, and who had then

lived long enough to see Kedin and Tevana transform the

province"s lower slopes into fertile terraces growing profitable

crops of silk, tea and spore-seed.

Kedin"s motives in buying Jerrissar had not been entirely

economic, however: the province straddled the equator, and

provided Kedin with a domain that lay adjacent to Gonfallon

and midway between his northern and southern estates. And

while Jerrissar"s lower slopes could be made productive, the

mountainous hinterland had the advantage of being

impregnable.

On his infrequent visits to his least favourite domain, the

Count of Larriman used to stay in the palace in Jerris, the

province"s only large town. Kedin had other plans. He used

explosives to blast a new road from Jerris into the

mountains, and he appointed masons and engineers to

rebuild and modernise the ruined fortress known as the

Bridge.

Jerrissar was a province with its back to the sea. At its

front, the mountains - often snow-capped despite their

latitude - sloped relatively gently, down to Jerris and the

fertile terraces, and then down again to the Tavent, the river

that separated the province from Gonfallon. On the other side

of the province, the mountains dropped precipitously, in

vertical curtains of stone, to a narrow coastal strip. Here the

inhabitants of a dozen villages, strung along the shore, made

their living from fishing and remained almost unaware that

they were part of Jerrissar. Only one track wound back and

forth from this coast, up the steep cliffs, into the mountains

and through a narrow defile between the highest peaks in the

range.

From this pass the track continued, down slopes that were

gentle only by comparison to those on the seaward side, to

Jerris.

And at the highest point, on the levelled peaks of the twin

spires of rock that formed the pass, in centuries past a lord

of Jerrissar had built two fortresses. His successor, anxious

to outdo his father"s monumental work of building, had had a

wide stone bridge constructed to link the two forts. Hundreds

of labourers, it was said, fell to their deaths on the road

below during the building of the bridge. The newly-unified

fortification took its name from its most notable feature. It

proved costly to maintain and was abandoned within five

years of being completed.

The Bridge was now Kedin"s communications centre. The

new road, guarded by five strategically-placed forts between

the Bridge and Jerris, provided rapid access by land to the

main commercial route alongside the Tavent, and to

Gonfallon. A funicular railway transported goods, vehicles

and passengers in fifteen minutes from the Bridge to the

coast, where one of the fishing villages had been developed

into a deep-water port.

Madok had first visited the Bridge while the improvements

were being made, and he had been back several times since.

The first sight of the fortification never failed to leave him

speechless, however.

The vehicle - a six-wheeled, self-propelled vehicle with a

goods container behind the cabin - had grumbled and roared

up the new road. It was all uphill work, twisting back and

forth up the breast of the mountains. The sun had sunk

behind the summits, and the road was in deep shadow. At

each of the steepest points the vehicle would struggle up to a

peak, and there Madok would find himself staring into the

mouths of the big guns squatting in one of the defensive

forts. The higher the self-propelled vehicle crept, the taller

and more vertiginous the surrounding mountains became.

From time to time, as the driver hauled the vehicle round

another hairpin bend, Madok was granted a view back down

the mountainside: the green terraces, gilded by the slanting

rays of the setting sun, seemed impossibly small and far

away.

And yet, as Madok knew, none of these sights, spectacular

though they were, would diminish the effect of his first view

of the Bridge. Madok found himself leaning forward and

peering upwards expectantly.

„Round the next bend, sir," the driver said.

„Thanks." Madok laughed. „I suppose you get used to seeing

it."

„Not really, sir," the driver said. „It always looks unnatural.

I"ve heard," he added, „that we"ll be going into action soon."

„You know I can"t talk about operational plans," Madok

said. „I think we"re all tired of waiting. And - great heavens,

there it is."

The self-propelled vehicle had turned a sharp corner, and

the road ran straight ahead between sheer cliffs. Ruddy light

poured through the gap, even though the sun itself had

dropped out of sight. At the point where the road disappeared

over the brow of the slope, the cliffs were tallest - thirty

metres or more above the road - and it was there that the

Bridge connected the two peaks. Its straight edges and

rectangular shape looked incongruous against the wild,

jagged imprecision of the rocks. It was as if a giant had

rested a book across the two mountains.

The arches on which the Bridge rested appeared too

delicate to support such a solid structure, yet Madok knew

that it was built of many stone blocks, each the height of a

man. It was wide enough for an army to march across, and

two stories high. Lurking in its strongpoints were the

heaviest guns ever cast. Never had a road been so well

guarded.

The self-propelled vehicle laboured up the slope and under

the Bridge. Madok shivered: he hoped he would never find

himself attempting to attack this fortress. From the road,

little could be seen of the two mountaintop castles which

were joined by the Bridge; only apparently natural fissures in

the cliffs hinted at the tunnels, reservoirs, store rooms, gun

emplacements and secret passages which honeycombed the

mountains on which the fortress squatted.

Having passed under the glowering gaze of the Bridge, the

self-propelled vehicle began to descend. Madok saw the

ocean: far below, and stretching to the horizon, where the red

ball of the sun was melting into the fiery water. The road

became no more than a bumpy track, and as ever Madok was

alarmed to be reminded of the angle at which it sloped down

the face of the mountain range. The self-propelled vehicle

didn"t follow the road, however: the driver pulled the vehicle

to the left, on to an even rougher path, and began the final,

winding, uphill section of the journey to the almost

inaccessible heart of Kedin"s domains.

The Castlain was waiting in the outer bailey. Credig was as

Madok remembered him: a little more grizzled now, perhaps,

and a little more leathery, but as tall and upright as ever.

„Madok," he said as Madok jumped from the cabin of the

self-propelled vehicle. „Saw your vehicle from the bridge.

Knew it had to be you. Good trip?"

Madok took Credig"s hand. The old soldier"s voice was more

welcoming than his face, which remained grimly unsmiling. „I

had no trouble, Castlain," Madok said. He looked around at

the massive walls, and up to the concentric rings of towers.

Only the whistling wind and the circling lizardwings gave any

hint that the vast courtyard was perched on the flattened

peak of the highest mountain in Jerrissar. „It"s been a while

since I"ve been here."

„What have you brought for us?" Credig asked. Madok

remembered that Credig was a man of little conversation.

Madok gestured towards the back of the self-propelled

vehicle. „New radio equipment," he said. „A more powerful

transmitter, and more receivers."

Credig grunted interrogatively.

„We"ve learnt how to use the space station to relay signals,"

Madok explained. „Don"t ask me how it works - it"s not my

area of expertise. But with this transmitter you"ll be able to

bounce signals off the station and then down to any of our

receivers - anywhere on the planet. It will give us ten times

the reach you"ve had from up here. The King has nothing like

this."

Credig nodded, and raised an eyebrow. For Credig, this was

an unrestrained expression of amazement. „I imagine we"ll

soon be needing every advantage we can muster," he said.

Madok led him a little further from the self-propelled

vehicle, out of the driver"s hearing. „All forces are to be made

ready," he said quietly. „We have to get the transmitter set up

as soon as possible. The order to begin the operation could

come within days. I have the precise plans here." He tapped

the side of his head. „As well as the codes and frequencies to

be used for communications, and the schedule for changing

them."

„Good." The barest hint of a smile touched Credig"s lips. „I"ll

be glad to see some action at last. We need to cleanse

Vethran"s filth from the world."

Madok could only agree. „I was at court a week ago," he

said. „In the capital. He"s going to have himself declared

Emperor. There are Twos everywhere. It"s all got to be

stopped." Once again Ace"s face appeared in his thoughts,

and as ever he fought against imagining the life she could be

living now.

He took Credig to the back of the self-propelled vehicle and

pointed out four of the boxes. „Are the rockets ready?" he

asked. The mountains around the Bridge concealed deep pits

from which six rockets, not unlike the one which had first

reached the space station, could be launched at targets

anywhere on the continent.

„Of course," Credig said.

„The boxes contain new components for the warheads,"

Madok said. „There is still much we don"t understand about

the space station, but we"re sure we can use our own radio

signals from the station to control the flight of rockets

launched from here. At last we should be able to target the

warheads accurately."

Credig nodded. He was clearly impressed. „Never did see

the point of rockets," he said. „Send them up. No idea where"ll

they come down. This is much better." He grunted. „Getting

old," he said. „These days soldiering"s all about rockets and

electricity. Used to be hot blood and cold steel."

„If things go badly," Madok said, „there"ll be plenty of old-

fashioned slaughter."

Credig"s eyes brightened. The thought of battle must have

reminded him of food, as he next asked Madok if he had

eaten dinner. „Come in," he said. „Freshen up. Come to the

mess. I"ll send out a team to unload your vehicle."

Madok shook his head. „Thank you, Castlain. But I can"t

rest until the transmitter"s set up and tested. It"s already

getting dark. I"ll pass the plans on to you, and then I"ll have

to be on my way again."

„Tevana Roslod?" Credig asked.

Madok nodded. „And then we can make our move."

Credig turned towards the self-propelled vehicle. „Driver,"

he shouted, „go to the lower barracks and get some help to

unload. Then have this vehicle refuelled and made ready to

leave."

The driver saluted. „Yes, sir," he said, and ran across the

courtyard to the inner gateway.

„You have a -" Credig lifted a hand into the air, „a flying

machine of some kind?" he said.

„A scout from the station," Madok said. „I landed at the

northern strip. I have room for five," he added. „I think it

would be wise to take some men with me. Can you spare me

four of your best? They must be utterly trustworthy."

„Of course, Madok," the Castlain said. „Now let"s get this

transmitter set up. You"re going to set off in the dark?"

Madok looked about him. Only the highest towers of the

castle were still golden in sunlight. The courtyard was in

deep shade. He knew that lights could be fitted to the self-

propelled vehicle, but the drive down the road to Jerris would

nonetheless be perilous. And there were no lights at the

landing strip: he"d have to take the scout ship up in complete

darkness. And land again before dawn.

„Damnation," he said. „No, Credig, I"ll have to stay overnight.

No doubt the rest will do me good. I"ll leave at daybreak."

Bep-Wor had never thought that he would find himself

arguing with the Doctor. They spoke in urgent whispers as

the line of prisoners shuffled forwards to receive their meals.

„Please try to understand," the Doctor said. „It"s imperative

that I reach the capital. That must be the centre of

government on this world. There I will be able to negotiate

with people in authority. I might find a way to put a stop to

all this." He waved his arm in the direction of the prisoners.

„The commissioner is going to the capital. I must let him take

me there."

„And I must find Kia-Ga," Bep-Wor replied. „The farmer sold

her only a few days ago. Perhaps only yesterday. She can"t be

far away. There are tools in this barn. We can break our

chains. We can make the farmer tell us where she is."

„In order to do that, Bep-Wor, we will have to reveal that

most of these people are free of the effects of the drug. Do you

think that the commissioner will just shrug his shoulders

and forget about you? Of course not. He"ll bring more

soldiers. He"ll hunt you down."

Bep-Wor could not believe the words he was hearing. The

Doctor seemed to want to remain a captive, and to keep all

the prisoners captive with him. „I"ll take that chance," he said.

„I"d rather be free and hunted than taken in chains to the

capital. Who knows what will happen to us in a big town? We

might be separated, or shut up in prisons. We may never get

another chance to free ourselves. If we escape now, we can all

remain together. We will take the soldiers" swords and guns.

We will have you to lead us. We will have some hope."

„If I don"t go to the capital," the Doctor said, „I may never

find out where Ace is."

„And if I don"t free myself now," Bep-Wor replied, „I will

never find out where Kia-Ga is."

The two men had run out of words. They glared at each

other. Bep-Wor realised he was shaking with emotion. He felt

sick. He and the Doctor had travelled together across the gulf

between two worlds. He had thought that they had a common

purpose - a shared destiny. Suddenly he was aware that the

Doctor"s motives were utterly different from his own. He felt

foolish and betrayed.

The women were handing out half-loaves to the last few

prisoners. All over the barn men and women who had

devoured their meals were holding whispered conversations,

or trying to loosen their shackles. They were dressed in rags;

they were dirty; they were tired. And yet Bep-Wor knew that

they were no longer the confused, beaten, hopeless rabble

they had been when crammed into the deathly cold of the

cargo pod. He heard it in their voices, and saw it in their

faces: a pride in having survived, and a determination to

continue surviving. Where the commissioner and his soldiers

saw mindless slaves, Bep-Wor saw a small army. An army

that would rather fight to be free than live as slaves.

The Doctor had made the difference. He had given Bep-

Wor"s people hope. How could he think of abandoning them

now?

Bep-Wor held his head in his hands. I"m a farmer, he said

to himself. I help out on the fishing boats. I know about soil

and seeds, wind and waves. And here I am on another world,

where even the plants look different, responsible for 150 of

my fellow countrymen, on a hopeless quest to find Kia-Ga.

It"s too much. I can"t be expected to do this.

He looked down at the chain hanging between his wrists.

There really was no point in giving up. He had to keep

fighting, or end his life as a slave.

Think, Bep-Wor, he told himself. Think clearly.

He marshalled his thoughts. The starting point was that he

would no longer remain a prisoner. He and all of the captives

must be freed. He might have been prepared to continue the

pretence of being drugged, but the knowledge that Kia-Ga

was nearby changed everything.

He wanted the Doctor to go with him. The Doctor inspired

the group; he had wondrous powers and knowledge; above all

- although Bep-Wor had never before dared to speculate

about this - he might be able to reverse the effects of the

drug, and restore Kia-Ga. He had, after all, brought Hap-Lor

back from the dead.

Freedom and Kia-Ga were Bep-Wor"s objectives. Freedom

and Kia-Ga might prove unattainable, or only partially

attainable, without the Doctor"s help. But to follow the

Doctor, away from Kia-Ga and into certain slavery, would

gain nothing that Bep-Wor wanted. Nor would it help the 150

men and women who also had wives and husbands to find.

The way forward was clear. Bep-Wor had his hand on the

tiller, and he knew the heading he had to steer.

„Doctor," he said. „Listen to me. If we proceed, as slaves, to

the capital, we may lose our only chance to be free. And I will

lose my only chance to find Kia-Ga. If we free ourselves now,

you will still be able to go to the capital and look for your

friend Ace."

The Doctor began to speak, but Bep-Wor hushed him.

„I"m going to break free," Bep-Wor said. „I"ll ask the others:

any who wish to can come with me. If you decide to stay, I

think many will choose to stay with you."

The Doctor rubbed a hand over his face. „You"re serious,

aren"t you?" he said.

I don"t know, Bep-Wor thought. But this is the only way I

can think of to persuade you to come with me.

He nodded. „Deadly serious."

„You"ll split the group, and go without me?"

Bep-Wor nodded again.

The Doctor sighed. „I can"t let that happen, Bep-Wor. All

right, I"ll come with you. As long as everyone agrees. I won"t

leave anyone behind. And as long as you agree that once

we"ve found Kia-Ga we"ll head towards the capital."

Bep-Wor could have shouted for joy. „Thank you, Doctor.

I"m sure this will be for the best. And once they know that

you are leading us, all the people will follow you."

The Doctor was about to speak again, but Bep-Wor pointed

over his shoulder.

„The women from the farmhouse," he said. „Look: they"re

getting ready to leave. We must keep them here."

The Doctor looked puzzled.

„They"ve heard us talking," Bep-Wor explained. „If they"re

asked, they"ll tell what they"ve heard. Tell them to stay here."

The Doctor turned. „Sab-Ma," he called out. „And you

others. Come here, please."

The five women abandoned the empty cauldron and

baskets and, with blank faces, walked the few paces to the

Doctor. Bep-Wor stepped outside the barn for an instant. „All

clear," he said. „I"ll tell our comrades to start breaking out of

their chains."

He set off into the depths of the barn to find heavy tools

and the strongest of the prisoners. Two of them, he knew,

had been metal-workers in Porgum. Behind him he heard the

Doctor telling the women that they must not return to the

farmhouse, and five voices saying, „Yes, sir," in reply.

When Bep-Wor returned to the front of the barn the Doctor

was still talking to the women.

„It"s very strange," he was saying. His hat was tilted on his

head and he was scratching his scalp. Bep-Wor realised that

he was talking to himself more than to the women, who were

standing in a row and gazing at him. „It"s as if an entire level

of consciousness has been eroded from the hypothalamus.

They think, but are they aware of their awareness of their

thinking? Are they even aware that they think?"

The Doctor turned as Bep-Wor approached. Bep-Wor held

up his arms to show that the manacles had gone from his

wrists.

The Doctor grinned. „I suppose I"d better slip out of these

again," he said, performing a little dance to jangle the chains

at his wrists and ankles. „You"re right, Bep-Wor. Life"s better

without chains."

He indicated the row of women. „I thought," he said, that

perhaps I could counteract the effects of the drug by making

use of the absolute obedience that it seems to instil in its

victims. I"ve been trying to find a way to instruct these poor

women to think for themselves."

„What do you mean?" Bep-Wor asked.

„I"ll demonstrate," the Doctor said, „but I don"t think I"m

getting anywhere." He addressed the women. „I order you to

do whatever you like," he said.

The women"s faces showed that they were struggling to

understand. One of them, having reached a decision, began

to comb her hair with her fingers. Another began to eat the

piece of bread she was holding in her hand. A third started to

rummage under her clothing.

„Stop!" Bep-Wor said quickly. „Doctor," he explained, „they

are doing things that they like doing, not things that they

have chosen to do."

„Yes, I see," the Doctor said. „Pity. I thought I"d cracked it.

It"s volition that is still missing. Let"s try something else." He

turned again to the women. „You are free," he said. „You no

longer have to obey any orders."

The women did nothing. They stood, slack-jawed and

slump-shouldered, before the Doctor.

Bep-Wor stepped in. „The Doctor is your master," he told

the women. „You must do as he says. Follow the Doctor, and

be glad. He will lead us all to freedom."

At these words some animation returned to the faces of the

women. They smiled at the Doctor, and looked at him

expectantly.

„I"m not -" he began, and then tutted with irritation. „Oh, go

and help the others remove their chains," he said, waving into

the depths of the barn.

„Yes, sir," the women chorused, and with smiles on their

faces they scampered away.

„They"re not free," the Doctor said to Bep-Wor.

„No," Bep-Wor replied, „but they"re happy enough.

Sometimes it isn"t easy to tell the ones who are free from the

ones who have had the drug, when they"re busy with

something." He looked back into the barn. „The two smiths

are getting on well with breaking the chains. We"ll be ready to

leave soon."

The Doctor peered out of the barn. „It"s very dark," he said.

„We"ll let everyone get some sleep, and leave at dawn." His

face was illuminated by a sudden thought. „How will you

know where to go?"

Bep-Wor held up the hammer he was holding. „I"ll take a

few of the men and we"ll ask the farmer where Kia-Ga is."

„No violence, Bep-Wor," the Doctor said. „There"s no

justification for revenge." Another thought struck him. „The

farmer, the commissioner and the guards are all in the

farmhouse," he said. „They"ll know we"ve escaped, and they"ll

raise the alarm. You"ll have to restrain them."

„Don"t worry, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. „We"ve plenty of spare

chains. I"ll take a few men and we"ll tackle the farmer, the

commissioner and the guards at daybreak." There was no

hurry: better to give the soldiers time to get helplessly drunk

on the farmer"s brandy.

The atmosphere inside the scout ship was bearable, given

that there were five men crammed in the cabin and that one

of them had been sick. Madok presumed that among the

many automatic systems that Kedin"s technicians had yet to

understand there was one that filtered the air.

Madok was flying high, above the clouds. He didn"t want

the ship to be seen. The four troopers with him had never

flown before: whenever he looked over his shoulder they were

still staring, open-mouthed and pale-faced, at the sunlit

banks of cloud below them and at the miniature landscapes

visible through the gaps.

„Sir," one of them said, in a hesitant voice, „may I ask a

question?"

Madok smiled. He had wondered whether any of the

troopers would have both the intelligence to calculate the

direction of the flight and the nerve to question an officer. „Go

on, soldier," he said.

„Well, sir," the trooper said, „from the position of the sun I

think we"ve been travelling to the south of due west.

Shouldn"t we be flying to the north?"

„Well spotted," Madok said. „I"m taking a detour. I"m going to

call at the main landing site - the one the transports use. The

one we let the King know about."

The silence from the back of the cabin was as eloquent as

any criticism. The troopers knew the purpose of Madok"s

mission; they knew the need for speed and secrecy.

Madok couldn"t deny that their unspoken disapproval was

justified. The detour to the landing site would not take long,

but any delay was unwarranted. And unlike the troopers

Madok knew that there were usually a few soldiers, either

from one of the King"s regiments or hired by the King"s

commissioner, policing the landing site: landing the scout

ship there could hardly fail to be noticed, and might entail

some risk.

Nonetheless, Madok clung to his course. Kedin had not

instructed Madok to make the detour, but he had given

Madok considerable discretion to act on his initiative. And

Madok was sure that Kedin would understand.

„Don"t worry, men," Madok said over his shoulder. He

directed the ship down, into and through the clouds. „This

won"t take long."

Just long enough, Madok thought, for me to find a trader

who remembers Ace, and who can tell me who bought her.

Breathing heavily, Bep-Wor rested his back against the wall

of the barn. Gathered in a circle around him, their faces

ghostly in the pale light of dawn, were the men he"d taken

with him to the farmhouse and the Twos - three men - they

had found there and freed.

When he leant his head against the wall, he heard from the

other side of it the voice of the Doctor, organizing the men

and women into groups in preparation for leaving.

Bep-Wor straightened his body. This was no time to show

weakness. He hoped his face did not reveal the shock and

doubt he saw in those around him. When the soldiers from

this world invaded his, he reasoned, they had shown no

mercy. They were the enemy, and sometimes it would be

necessary to fight them with their own weapons.

„Clean those swords," he said, pointing to the blades

hanging from the trembling hands of four of the men. He tore

a strip from his clothing and used it to wipe the blood off the

hammer he was carrying.

„We did what we had to," he said. „There is no reason to feel

guilty." Somehow, he managed to smile. „You did well," he

said. „I"m proud of you."

He saw the men around him nod their heads. They visibly

relaxed, and smiled grimly at each other. Even the Twos from

the farm, who were under the influence of the drug, had

animated expressions.

Bep-Wor forced himself to remember all the details of the

brief struggle in the farmhouse. The surprise and outrage on

the faces, fixed there by sudden death. The soldiers, barely

sober enough to comprehend what was happening to them.

Making the farmer tell him where Kia-Ga had been sold, and

where the money was kept.

It had been easy. And now, as he went over it again, Bep-

Wor felt surprisingly little remorse. He had never previously

killed anything larger than a fish.

He beckoned the group to come closer to him. „You all know

that the Doctor will lead us to freedom," he whispered. „But

he is a man of ideas, not actions. We have to act for him. And

sometimes, like tonight, we have to do things that he would

not like to hear about. So don"t let him know what we"ve

done. He will be happier if he thinks we left the farmer and

the soldiers bound in chains. Do you all understand?"

Everyone around him nodded.

„Good," Bep-Wor said. „Keep the guns hidden until we have

to use them." He pushed himself away from the wall,

shouldered his hammer, and strode round the corner of the

barn.

„Doctor!" he called out. „Is everyone ready to leave? We"ve

loaded a cart with food."

The Doctor emerged out of the gloomy interior of the barn.

For a moment Bep-Wor was unnerved by the searching light

in the Doctor"s eyes. „Well done," the Doctor said.

Bep-Wor refused to answer the Doctor"s unspoken

question. „I"ve found some money, too," he said. „And we took

the soldiers" uniforms. We can make ourselves look like a

group of prisoners being led by guards, and with the money

we can buy provisions if we need to."

„Theft," the Doctor said, making a face as though the word

tasted in his mouth like a sour fruit.

„Survival," Bep-Wor countered. „And," he continued,

changing the subject, „the farmer told me that Kia-Ga is

close: he sold her to the next farm to the north. Lead your

army northward, Doctor."

„Army?"

„Your followers, Doctor. Your host of freed Twos. We will go

where you lead us."

The scout ship howled and shuddered as Madok cut the

thrusters and raised the air-baffles. He had hurled the small

craft through the sky from the landing site, and in his anger

and impatience he had almost overshot his destination.

Balon Ferud had bought Ace. His chamberlain had won the

auction with the highest price ever paid for a Two. The only

satisfaction to be had was that Ace"s value had been

recognised, and that Balon had had to pay dearly for her.

Everything else Madok had been able to learn was

worrying. He had been hoping that Ace would have been

bought by a farmer, or the owner of a mine or a plantation:

then it would have been a simple operation, a quick and

clean attack with a few of Kedin"s men, and Ace would have

been free. But Balon had a number of residences, and none

of the traders had known which of them Balon"s chamberlain

had taken Ace to. Balon had only a small retinue of

household troops, but they were well trained and well armed:

even if Madok had known where to strike, he couldn"t have

risked doing so. Not now, at this critical moment.

As he pushed the scout ship to its limits Madok had to

admit that it would be impossible to rescue Ace before Kedin

began to move against Vethran. He would have to leave Ace

in the hands of the odious Balon Ferud. The situation could

hardly be worse: only the Citadel itself would be more

difficult to extract Ace from.

„What"s happening?" one of the troopers said. He sounded

as though his teeth were chattering.

„This is more exciting than guard duty on the Bridge!"

Madok shouted above the roar of the wind. „We"ve arrived

over County Cathogh. The castle"s below us. We"ve made up

some time," he added, although the troopers could hardly

have failed to notice that the scout ship had been screaming

through the air since Madok took off from the landing site.

„It"s still early morning here."

On his previous visits Madok had brought his ship down in

the neighbouring manor, which belonged to an ally of Kedin,

and had made his way to Cathogh by camelope. He had keys

to the postern gates of the castle: the guards knew he was

there only if he wanted them to.

Now there was no time for subtlety and subterfuge. He

would bring the scout ship down in the castle park. On his

previous visits there had been no more than six guards in the

castle: most of the squadron was garrisoned in the town,

below the castle walls. He and his four men would be in and

out before the main body of Vethran"s guards could react.

„Weapons ready?" Madok said, as he banked the ship

around the topmost turrets of Castle Cathogh. „Remember:

shoot anyone who tries to stop us. I want a volunteer to stay

with the ship, and -"

„Sir!" Madok"s instructions were cut off by the excited shout

of the trooper sitting behind him. „Down there, sir. Look.

Camelopes and carriages."

Madok swore. The inner courtyard of the castle was

swarming with cavalry steeds. The entire squadron, he

realised, was inside the castle walls. As the scout ship

swooped over the battlements, Madok saw cavalrymen in the

King"s livery emerge from doorways and point skywards as

they tried to calm their mounts. He cursed again. He would

be unable to take the castle in a direct attack, no matter that

the guards wouldn"t be expecting a flying machine to land in

the gardens: his force was five men, and the defenders were

twenty times as numerous. And now that he had flown over

the heads of the cavalrymen there would be no point in

landing at a distance, as he was wont to do, and proceeding

by stealth and on foot: the King"s men knew that only Kedin

had such machines, and they would be ready for any

attempted infiltration of the castle.

„Stow your guns," Madok told the troopers. „We can"t fight

our way in against that lot. Swords only, and keep them

sheathed unless I give the word. I"m going to land in the

park, as planned. The story is that I"m simply on a visit from

Kedin Ashar. You"re my personal guards. We"ll improvise

once we"re inside. But be aware that we"ll probably have to

abort the mission. And don"t eat or drink anything."

By the time the scout ship rolled to a halt on the flat sward

at the rear of the castle, two dozen of the King"s men were in

position on the terrace above. They were armed only with

muskets, but at such short range, Madok knew, the old-

fashioned guns would be deadly.

He slid open the outer door and emerged with his hands

empty and raised. The troopers followed him.

Madok didn"t expect to be gunned down as he ascended the

wide stone stairs that led up to the terrace, but it was

nevertheless unnerving to know that he was in the sights of

twenty muskets. He was relieved when he saw an officer step

through the wide doorway from the castle.

„Is that Madok?" the officer called.

„The same," Madok replied. He reached the top step and

held out his hand. „How are you, Kaped?" He couldn"t

remember having met the officer, but he knew the name of

the commander of the squadron on duty at Cathogh Castle.

„Well enough," the officer said. He peered at Madok"s

uniform. „No badges of rank, eh? What are you these days,

Madok? Captain? Major?"

Madok ignored the subtle insult. „I"m here as the special

emissary of the Duke of Jerrissar," he said. „A civilian

mission. It"s a private matter between Kedin Ashar and

Tevana Roslod. And it"s urgent. I apologise for my haste, but

may I see her?"

Kaped smiled, in a way that Madok found unsettling. „Of

course," he said. He looked over Madok"s shoulder. „Your men

will have to remain in our barracks, however."

Madok raised a hand. „I"m happy to carry out my

commission alone," he said, „but if my men can"t be with me

I"d prefer them to stay with my flying machine. It"s a

prototype. Very fragile."

Madok watched Kaped"s face as the officer considered his

reply. He would want to have Madok"s troopers mixing with

his own men: he wouldn"t dare use SS10, but a milder

formula, or even a few glasses of wine, might be enough to

loosen the troopers" tongues. And while the scout ship was

untended Kaped could search it, or boobytrap it.

On the other hand, Kedin Ashar was the King"s premier

subject: still the most important person on the planet, after

Vethran himself, despite his long absence from court. It

wouldn"t do to antagonise Kedin"s special emissary.

„Of course, Madok," Kaped said. „As you wish. I"ll have

refreshments brought out to them."

„Thank you, commander," Madok said, as he waved his

troopers back down the stairs, „but we have provisions on

board. Please tell your men to stay well clear of the flying

machine. Now, may I see Tevana?"

Kaped"s smile remained fixed on his face. „Follow me," he

said.

When seen from a distance, Cathogh Castle appeared

unchanged since the days of spears and crossbows. Its walls

of reddish stone were pierced by arrow-slits and surmounted

by battlements; its towers were tall and cylindrical, not

having been lowered and reshaped as defence against

artillery.

A closer view revealed that the curtain walls had long been

demolished, so that the castle"s park and gardens stretched

in uninterrupted vistas right up to the moat, which served

now as a decorative lake. Terraces and conservatories had

been built against the lower floors of the once-forbidding

walls, and new windows now allowed light into the ancient

halls within.

Inside the castle any lingering thoughts of the structure"s

martial origins were finally dispelled. It had been used as the

principal residence of the Counts of Cathogh for three

generations, and therefore its internal architecture was

entirely domestic. When Tevana Roslod had acquired

Cathogh she had set about modernizing the castle, so that as

Madok followed Kaped across brightly tiled hallways and up

whitewood stairs he found, as usual when he came to

Cathogh, that the palace within made him forget the castle

outside.

Madok noted that the ceramic floors, the glass canopies

and the brass lamps were not smirched by so much as a

mote of dust. Servants were busy everywhere, and each one

greeted Madok with a quick bow and a friendly smile. Madok

was reassured: Tevana clearly still had income enough to

maintain her household; her servants were still the loyal

Cathogh staff she had inherited with the castle; and she had

not been obliged, for reasons of economy or because of

pressure from Vethran, to keep any Twos.

The billeting of the King"s cavalry in Cathogh town had not

prevented Tevana from managing her estates: although she

was not permitted to leave the castle, she was able to receive

her stewards and send out messengers. And, although Kaped

attended each of Tevana"s audiences and read all of her

letters, he knew nothing of the secret communications

carried by Madok on his covert visits to Cathogh. Despite

being confined to her residence Tevana had been able to keep

herself informed of the political and military situation; she

had even been able to offer suggestions about analysing the

formula of SS10.

Things had not changed, apparently, since the last time

Madok had been at Cathogh: the restraints on Tevana had

not been made any stricter. Still, he wondered why the entire

cavalry squadron had come up to the castle. Was it possible

that the King"s councillors had had warning of Madok"s

mission? If so, there was a spy in Kedin"s staff.

He had to see Tevana.

Kaped stopped in front of the doors to Tevana"s

apartments. It irritated Madok to see that two cavalrymen

were standing on guard, as if Tevana were a common

prisoner. Kaped knocked, and spoke briefly to the woman

who opened the door.

Then the doors were thrown back, and Kaped and Madok

walked in. Madok looked towards the top of the curving

stairway, where he expected to see Tevana emerge from her

bedroom. Instead her voice came from the drawing room on

Madok"s left.

„Madok. What a lovely surprise."

Madok turned. Although the sun was barely over the

horizon Tevana was dressed in working clothes: a linen dress

and an apron. Curls of blond hair were escaping from the

scarf wrapped round her head. Madok formed the impression

that she had been up for some time, and had been busy at

some task.

He bowed. „My lady," he said.

Neither time nor tribulation had altered her. Her face was

still unlined; her smile was still as warm and uplifting as

sunlight. Nonetheless, Madok thought that she looked

concerned.

He indicated her apron. „You are up early, Tevana," he said.

It would do no harm to let Kaped know that he and the

Countess were on familiar terms.

Tevana averted her face. Madok was sure he had seen tears

in her eyes. „And you are late, Madok," she said. „Too late."

Suddenly she was vivacious again. „I"m leaving Cathogh,"

she said with a laugh. „I"m off to Gonfallon. Come into the

drawing room, Madok, and I"ll tell you all about it. We"ll have

one of our interesting tripartite conversations."

For a moment Madok couldn"t move. He became aware that

his hand was clenched on the pommel of his sword, and that

his guts had gone as cold as ice. For a moment he considered

striking down Kaped and attempting to take Tevana to the

scout ship. But he"d be unlikely to get past the guards at the

doors, he realised, let alone the hundred other men between

him and the ship.

He shook himself and followed Kaped and Tevana.

„Gonfallon, my lady," he said, as if making conversation.

„Which province, may I ask?"

Tevana seated herself on a couch. Madok sat opposite her

in a straight-backed chair. Kaped stood, like an over-

attentive servant, between them.

„I"m going to the capital, Madok. To the Citadel itself,

perhaps. I"ve been summoned by Vethran."

Madok leant forward. Her eyes were bright. He could see

fear in their depths.

„His Majesty has invited the Countess to reside in

Gonfallon," Kaped said, „in view of the unsettling nature of

the recent news. His only concern is her ladyship"s safety."

Madok looked searchingly at Tevana. He could see that she

was as perplexed as he was by Kaped"s reference to

unsettling news.

„May I see the order?" Madok said. He hoped Kaped would

have to have it fetched, and that he and Tevana could

thereby snatch a moment of private conversation.

„I have it here," Kaped said, producing a scroll from within

his tunic. „The Countess has perused it several times, as you

can imagine, but by all means study it again."

Madok took the document impatiently, checked its royal

seal, and unrolled it. „There can be no legal basis for this," he

said, scanning the dense text. „What"s this? “Under the

provisions of the law relating to the disposition of lordless

estates...” This is preposterous, Kaped. That law was

approved by the council only after Vethran arrested and

replaced two councillors. It"s highly dubious. And it was

intended to deal with lands left in the hands of children or

idiots. In which category do you place Tevana Roslod?"

„The order is signed not only by the King himself," Kaped

pointed out, „but also by the Ducal Attorney. It may be that a

legal counter-argument could be made, but my instructions

are clear. County Cathogh, and all of Tevana Roslod"s lands,

are now administered by the Council on behalf of the King.

His Majesty has generously permitted the Countess to retain

her title in respect of Cathogh and, now that she is landless,

has furthermore offered her secure accommodation within

his ducal domain. It"s all in the order."

„I can see that," Madok said. He resisted the temptation to

tear the document into fragments. „You can fight this,

Tevana," he said.

Tevana shook her head. She looked sad rather than

defeated. „Possibly," she said. But Vethran is very insistent

that I leave Cathogh immediately. And once I"m in “secure

accommodation” I doubt I"ll have many opportunities for

discussions with lawyers. Times are changing, Madok.

Vethran"s code of laws extends beyond Gonfallon now: every

landowner must adhere to it. And Gonfallon law now denies

property rights to unmarried women." She laughed, briefly

and with an edge of bitterness. „Kedin and I agreed not to

marry. After all, our parents would never have considered

doing so. We thought it was a passing fashion, and that it

would constrain us. It"s ironic. If I had a husband now, my

lands wouldn"t be forfeit to the King."

„Don"t blame yourself," Madok said. Blame me, he raged at

himself; if I had arrived only an hour earlier I could have

taken you away. „If you had been married, Vethran would

have found another pretext." He noticed that the order carried

a third signature. He pretended to study the text again, and

concentrated on deciphering the spidery handwriting. The

scrawled name was Pelod, he was sure of it: the castlain of

Grake castle.

He brought his hand to his face to conceal his smile from

Kaped. This was the first piece of good news he had had

today. He now knew where Tevana would be incarcerated.

And he knew that Grake, while notoriously difficult to escape

from, was far from impregnable to an attack from outside.

There was still hope.

He thrust the scroll towards Kaped. „The document"s in

order," he said, „inasmuch as injustice is ever in order." He

glanced towards Tevana. She nodded: she had seen his smile,

and she had understood.

„Commander," Madok said to Kaped, „I have come here in

haste on a private mission from Kedin Ashar. The subject is a

delicate one, and I am under instructions to speak to no one

but Tevana Roslod. Would you leave us alone for a few

minutes?"

Madok had no expectation that a direct request for privacy

would prove effective, but there was no harm in asking.

Kaped shook his head. „My instructions are also clear, sir. I

and my men are here to protect her ladyship. His Majesty

has the utmost concern for her safety, and I am to leave no

one alone with her, other than the ladies of her chamber."

Madok shrugged. „Well, then, Tevana, we must talk of other

matters."

„Tell me, Madok," Tevana said in a rush of words, „how is

Kedin?"

„He"s well," Madok said. „He misses you, it"s obvious, but he

manages to remain cheerful. And resolute." It occurred to him

that he could tell Tevana about Ace, the strange girl who had

appeared from nowhere and who understood the space

station better than Kedin himself. But then, on reflection, he

decided not to.

„Tell him I"m counting the days until I see him again,"

Tevana said.

„I"m sure you won"t have to count many," Madok said, with

a significant look. He was sure that once Kedin learnt that

Tevana was imprisoned in Gonfallon, nothing would restrain

him from launching the assault. „Has his Majesty graced you

with a visit recently?" he asked.

Tevana pulled a face. „Not for a few weeks," she said. „I"m

running out of ways to say no. He won"t believe that I won"t

marry him. I"m sure he thinks I"m just haggling for a better

offer. Apparently if I accept him now I"ll be an empress."

„He"s still sending gifts?"

Tevana sighed with impatience. „The cellar room I allocated

is full now," she said. „The latest evidence of his devotion is

piled up at the foot of the cellar stairs. He doesn"t seem to

notice, when he comes here, that I never wear the dresses

and jewellery he"s sent."

Madok lowered his voice. „He"s obsessed with you, Tevana.

Be careful."

„I know. Sometimes I almost pity him."

Kaped cleared his throat. „Countess, we should be leaving

soon. And I feel obliged to warn both of you to be cautious in

your speech. The King disapproves of treasonous

conversations."

Madok looked up at Kaped. Madok"s adult life had been

spent as a soldier, and he found it hard to hold any fellow-

officer in contempt. Hard, but not impossible. „Tell me,

Kaped," he said, „what is the unsettling news you spoke of

earlier?"

„There are reports," he said, „that there was something

wrong with the last consignment of Twos."

„In what way?" This was worrying: if Vethran suspected that

Kedin was double-crossing him, it was not surprising that he

wanted Tevana closer to his seat of power.

Kaped shrugged. „They were just a bit different, that"s all I

heard," he said. „The commissioner"s bringing them all to the

capital. So there"s been a considerable loss of trade."

Madok turned slowly to look at Tevana. She would be as

troubled by this news as he was, and she would jump to the

conclusion that the Twos had been given the new formula

instead of SS10. Sure enough, she was frowning at him

intensely. He mouthed the word „No," and turned his head

slightly from side to side.

She understood, and like him she was even more

perplexed. He widened his eyes and shrugged.

Things were moving fast: out of control. The Twos that had

been landed the previous day would be among the last to

receive SS10. There was now sufficient of the new formula on

the space station to dose all prisoners with it, and it would be

used as soon as Kedin knew how long its effects would last.

The slave trade was as good as over - although it would be

some time before anyone realised it.

But it had been Twos dosed with SS10 who had behaved

strangely, and had prompted Vethran to bring Tevana, his

hostage for Kedin"s good behaviour, closer to him.

Madok didn"t understand. But he knew that Tevana"s move

from house arrest to prison would prompt Kedin to launch

his assault.

Someone had lit the fuse, and in a way it didn"t matter who

had done it: within days the powder would explode.

„We will meet again, my lady," Madok said. He stood up and

saluted. „Soon."

Chapter Four

The trees here were so unlike those of his home world. Bep-

Wor held a thin branch in his hand and studied it: a maze of

brown, woody stems, from which green leaves sprouted.

Nothing like the giant cycads he was used to, which blocked

the sun"s rays and made slabs of black shadow on the soil.

These small leaves scattered the sunlight.

He used his hand to shield his eyes as he peered between

the trunks of the trees. The men he had posted as sentries at

the edge of the spinney were still in position. The rest of the

group was sitting and lying under the trees. The Doctor -

where was the Doctor?

Bep-Wor found the Doctor pacing back and forth at the

edge of the woods.

„Come further in, Doctor," he called. „You can be seen out

there."

The Doctor scrambled across a barrier of thorns. „We

should move on, Bep-Wor," he said, tugging his trouser legs

free. „We found a stream for everyone to wash in. We found a

place to stop and eat. Now we"ve found the farm. Let"s

proceed."

Bep-Wor led the Doctor to a gap between the trees, through

which they had a view of the farmhouse, nestling in the

valley below them, surrounded by barns and other

outbuildings. „I can tell you"re not a former," Bep-Wor said.

„Look, Doctor: the farm itself is deserted. There may be a few

workers in the kitchen or the livestock sheds, but on a fine

day such as this almost everyone will be out in the fields. You

can see them: there, and there. And earlier I saw a party

going over the brow of that hill."

This was the largest farm Bep-Wor had ever seen. As far as

he could tell, all the land between the hills on the horizon

and the wooded hill on which he stood was part of one estate.

All around the farm buildings the countryside had been

divided into a patchwork of fields: some contained grazing

animals, some were rippling with growing crops, and others

were recently ploughed.

„The sun is descending," Bep-Wor pointed out. „Summer

days are short on this world. We"ll see the workers return

from the fields. Then we"ll go down to the farm."

„Very well," the Doctor agreed. „I suppose there"s not much

point in making a social call while no one"s at home. Are you

going to wear that uniform? You"re not exactly up to parade-

ground standard, you know."

Bep-Wor stroked his chin as he looked down at the uniform

he was wearing. He hadn"t shaved for almost a week, and his

stubble was becoming a beard. The tunic was too big for him,

and the trousers were too short: the soldier he"d stripped had

been stocky.

„No one would take me for a native anyway," he said. „As

soon as I speak I"ll betray myself as a Two. You"ll have to do

the talking, Doctor. You"re good at that."

Later, as the last long shadows merged into a chill dusk,

the Doctor and Bep-Wor led the escaped prisoners out of the

wood, down the hillside and towards the farm buildings,

where windows were yellow with lamplight.

The farm buildings were arranged in a square around a

courtyard, the entrance to which was between two high,

wooden barns. The main house stood on the opposite side of

the square: light and the noise of conversations spilled from

the windows.

Bep-Wor stopped at the entrance. He looked over his

shoulder and saw nothing but rows of anxious, eager faces.

He held up one hand. His army was stationary and silent.

„Go on, then, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. „Try to get Kia-Ga out

of there. If you can buy food as well, so much the better. And

if you need help, we"ll come running."

The Doctor smiled. „Don"t worry, Bep-Wor," he said. „I think

you"ll find I can conduct a simple negotiation without any

difficulty."

He had taken only three steps into the courtyard when a

shout went up from the upper floor of the barn on the left of

the entrance.

„Farmer! Farmer Bretod!" It was a young man"s voice.

„There"s a crowd of Twos here. Standing outside the gate."

The conversations in the farmhouse were suddenly hushed.

The central door was flung open. The silhouette of a large

man filled the doorway. He hitched up his trousers.

„What"s that?" he shouted. „Namtol, was that you calling?

Twos, you say? At the gate? Are they ours? Ah, I see them."

The Doctor stepped forward. „Good evening," he said.

„Farmer Bretod, is it? Pleased to meet you. I"m sorry to

trouble you, but I was wondering -"

The farmer gave the Doctor one puzzled glance and then

ignored him.

„You Twos," he shouted. „Get away from here. Go back to

your shed. Brainless idiots."

Bep-Wor clenched his fists. He heard a hiss, a collective

indrawing of breath, from the men and women behind him.

He raised his hand to quieten them, but they pressed

forward, so that Bep-Wor and others were pushed into the

square.

The farmer looked puzzled. He stepped backwards. „Holred!

Conbal! Come out here. And bring me my shotgun.

Something"s amiss with these Twos."

„They"re not ours, Bretod," shouted Namtol from the barn.

Other voices were calling from inside the house. Behind Bep-

Wor the escaped prisoners were continuing to press forward

into the courtyard, and were shouting to each other. The

enclosed square was filling with people and noise.

Farmer Bretod was once again in the doorway of his house.

„Only one thing these Twos understand," he said, and turned

to face the crowd. Now he held a long-barrelled gun in his

right hand. He stepped forward and began to lift it.

The Doctor stood in front of him. „There"s no need for that,"

he said. „We don"t want to trouble you. We"re looking for a

woman named Kia-Ga."

„Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!" the escaped prisoners chanted

softly.

The farmer"s face was a mask of confusion and anger. „Out

of my way," he said, and knocked the Doctor aside with the

barrel of his gun. „Quiet!" he yelled, and retreated into the

doorway, where he was joined from inside the house by two

more men uncertainly holding curved swords. The courtyard

was full of Bep-Wor"s people, chanting more loudly now and

advancing towards the farmer.

„Be quiet!" he shouted again. He grabbed the Doctor"s

jacket. „Get back, or I"ll shoot this fellow. Understand?"

The chanting ceased. In the sudden silence a woman"s

voice rang out: „He touched the Doctor!"

There followed another brief silence, and then from the

back of the crowd came a wordless cry that grew in volume.

Bep-Wor was pushed in the back as those behind him surged

forward.

The farmer, still clutching the Doctor, turned as if to pull

his captive through the doorway. He tripped as he turned,

and fired his gun. The explosion rang around the enclosing

walls.

Before the echo died the crowd engulfed him.

Bep-Wor, elbowed aside, found himself on his hands and

knees next to the Doctor. Their followers flooded like a tide

above and around them, entering the house through every

door and window.

„Doctor," Bep-Wor said, „are you hurt?"

„Of course not," the Doctor snapped. „Now stop those people

before they do something violent."

Bep-Wor stared at the Doctor. He shrugged his shoulders.

The tide had passed over them: from inside the house came

shouts, bangs and crashes. „It"s too late for that," he said.

They had ascended the 248 steps to the top of the highest

turret on the Bridge. The pretext was to inspect the newly-

installed radio mast; the true purpose was to discuss the

situation freely without fear of being overheard.

The tower was half its original height: it had been lowered

and widened to protect it from artillery and to accommodate

large cannon. It could have been described as short and

stubby, were it not for the fact that even now it soared above

the surrounding towers. Its summit was the highest point in

the province of Jerrissar. Through the gun ports that pierced

the reinforced walls, Madok could look north along the

mountain ridge, and see its peaks and the monumental block

of the Bridge itself far below him; east across endless rocky

crags, into the evening darkness where lay the fertile terraces

of Jerrissar; south, where the mountain ridge curved away to

the horizon; and west, down the vertiginous slope to the

purple ocean into which the sun had recently slipped.

But Madok was in no mood to admire the views. He had

seen them before. He was only a little more interested in the

spire of metal that was rising from a circular opening in the

centre of the roof of the tower. The sound of chains and

pulleys came from the depths of the building.

„It"s a precaution," Credig said. „I don"t think we can be

attacked from the air. As far as I know Kedin hasn"t supplied

Vethran with any craft that have sufficient range. But it"s

reassuring to know that the aerial can be lowered and is

always safe."

The frail-looking structure was already taller than Madok,

and still rising against a backdrop of brightening stars.

„Leave it up, Castlain," he said gloomily. „We"re going to need

it tonight."

„I see no alternative," Credig said.

Madok hugged himself to keep out the cold wind. „If only I"d

arrived earlier," he said. „I"ll never forgive myself. Tevana

would be here now. Safe, among friends. With Kedin within a

few days."

The Castlain pointed a gloved finger at Madok. „Stop

chastising yourself," he said. „That would be an order, if I had

the authority. You"ll be no good to Kedin Ashar if you"re

drowning in self-pity. At least we know that Tevana has been

taken to Gonfallon. In the end, the result is the same."

„Is it?" Madok said. He didn"t understand.

„Yes," Credig said. „If you had stolen Tevana from under the

noses of Vethran"s household cavalry, we would have had to

launch the operation immediately. I can"t believe that Kedin

would wait for Vethran to strike first. Now that we know that

Tevana has been taken to Vethran, we will have to launch the

operation immediately. The result is the same."

„Except that thanks to my tardiness our priority is still to

make Tevana secure. We will lose momentum. We will have to

divide our forces."

Credig uttered an exasperated curse. „A diversionary attack

was always part of the plan, Madok. You know that. You

devised the damned thing. The attack on Grake Castle will

act as our diversion. Vethran will assume our mission is to

rescue Tevana. While he"s concentrating on Grake we"ll take

the Citadel. Now stop punishing yourself. Let"s decide on the

actions we have to take tonight."

„You"re right, Credig. Let"s get on with it." Madok looked up

again at the radio mast. „The first thing is to contact Kedin."

I have failed to protect my lord"s beloved, Madok thought to

himself. And I"ve failed to protect Ace. I must not fail again.

Bep-Wor found the Doctor in the upper floor of the

farmhouse. He was in a bedroom, lit by a single lamp, staring

down at the bed.

„Was this necessary?" the Doctor said, before Bep-Wor

could speak. The Doctor turned, and Bep-Wor recoiled from

the lambent fire in his shadowed eyes. He looked instead at

the bloody body lying on the bed. He sighed.

„This is a time for celebration, Doctor," he said gently. „Not

for regret. We have freed thirty of our people tonight."

The Doctor raised a pointing finger. „Bep-Wor," he began.

Bep-Wor was in no mood to receive a lecture. He was too

full of joy. „Doctor," he said, „I must show you something.

Come here." He extended a hand towards the Doctor.

When he was sure the Doctor was following him Bep-Wor

left the room. There, on the landing, where he had left her,

Kia-Ga was waiting for him. He took her hand in his.

„Look," he said as the Doctor emerged from the room. „This

is Kia-Ga."

The Doctor knotted his brows and merely glanced at Kia-

Ga. He was clearly going to be truculent. The Doctor"s

problem, Bep-Wor knew, was that he was too sensitive and

thoughtful. No doubt thought and sensitivity were necessary

if a person hoped to achieve knowledge and wisdom such as

the Doctor"s. But emotion and practicality were sometimes

more important. He had to try to make the Doctor

understand the importance of the evening"s triumph.

„Doctor," he said, caressing Kia-Ga"s arm, „please listen to

me. On my world, on the islands of the archipelago, people

mate for love, and a couple love, together, for life. Kia-Ga and

I have grown together: we are the two halves of a single fruit.

When she was taken from me I no longer wanted to live. Only

my cowardice prevented me from killing myself. Now I have

found her, and entirely thanks to you. If I had not met you, I

would be dead by now, or enslaved. You have saved me, and

you have brought me to Kia-Ga."

The Doctor"s face showed only pain and sorrow. „Bep-Wor,"

he said, she has taken the drug."

The icy weight that Bep-Wor thought had disappeared for

ever from his heart was there again. „I know, Doctor," he said.

He turned to Kia-Ga and stroked her cheek. „But you know

who I am, don"t you, Kia-Ga?"

„Bep-Wor," Kia-Ga said, and smiled.

„And you remember our life together, before the invaders

captured you?"

„Yes," she said. Her voice became excited. „Blue walls in the

kitchen. Cooking fish. Sunlight on the bedroom wall. Kissing

you. Warm bread in the morning. Wine in the evening."

„You see?" Bep-Wor said to the Doctor. „It"s all there. She

remembers everything."

„But she has no volition," the Doctor said. „She does only

what you tell her to do. You are simply her new master."

„No, sir," Kia-Ga stated. She bowed her head to the Doctor.

„I am free now. Bep-Wor has told me. All of our people will be

free, as long as we follow our new master. You are our lord."

The Doctor grasped the sleeve of Bep-Wor"s uniform and

with surprising strength pulled him across the landing.

„This nonsense must stop," the Doctor whispered urgently.

„I"m a scientist, not a miracle-worker. I don"t want your

people to think of me as their master."

„I understand, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. He wondered whether

the Doctor was merely being modest, or whether he truly

doubted his own powers. Whichever was the case, it was

important to placate him now. „This is a matter of being

practical. Those who have taken the drug act more normally

when they are told that you are our leader. They copy the

behaviour of those of us you saved on the journey from our

world to this. We are all your followers." He decided to change

the subject. „I have asked all the freed men and women if

they have heard of the woman named Ace. I"m afraid none

has."

Bep-Wor was relieved to see that his ruse had worked. The

Doctor was once again preoccupied with finding his oddly-

named friend.

„I must find the centre of government on this planet," the

Doctor muttered. „I may be able to do some good there." He

looked up at Bep-Wor. „I"m going to the capital," he stated.

„I promised to follow you," Bep-Wor said, „once I had

regained Kia-Ga. I won"t let you down. We will all follow you."

There was a barely-audible hiss. That was all. No crackles;

no whooping noises like the calls of demented birds. When

Madok had tested Kedin"s first radio set, only five years

previously, he and Kedin had been in adjoining rooms, and

the reception had been so poor that the sound in the

headphones had resembled a forest full of wailing beasts.

Now Kedin and he were thousands of miles apart, separated

by the vacuum of space, and he could hear Kedin as clearly

as if he were in an adjoining room.

Madok was trying to apologise. „But I was too late, my lord.

If I had arrived only an hour earlier -"

„Don"t blame yourself, Madok," Kedin"s voice cut in. „Of

course I would be happier if I knew Tevana was safe. But at

least we know that she is well, we know where she will be

kept, and we know that we can rescue her. And if you had

succeeded in taking her from Cathogh, Vethran would have

known that we were about to move against him. He would

have been prepared. Now he believes that he has Tevana even

more securely imprisoned, and he will expect us to continue

to fly his armies back and forth and to ship him ever more of

these wretched Twos. He will be confident that he can control

me. He is in for a surprise."

„You agree, then," Madok asked, „that we should strike

now?" He wanted to be sure that there was no doubt. Once

the operation had begun there could be no turning back.

„Yes, Madok. There"s no time like the present. The operation

starts now. Within four days we"ll take tea in whatever

remains of Vethran"s new throne room."

Holding the mouthpiece in front of his face and the

earphones on his head, Madok turned from the desk to look

at the Castlain. „Understood, Kedin. We start immediately."

Credig nodded. A grim smile spread across his face. Madok

recognised the expression: action at last.

„First," Kedin said, although both he and Madok had

rehearsed the order of events a hundred times, „I"ll pull all

our ships off Mendeb Two. Vethran"s invasion army will be

stranded there, and they have no way of contacting the

Council."

„Are you ready to send decoy messages?" Madok reminded

him. „A sudden silence from the invasion army will alert the

Council as surely as a warning would."

„They rely on us to transmit their signals," Kedin said. „We

know their codes and their protocols."

„The new transmitter is working here," Madok went on. „I"m

sure you"ve noticed the improved quality of the signal. The

Castlain will co-ordinate the sending of orders to our forces

down here. The covert teams will move into Gonfallon and

converge on the palace. The motorised and airborne units will

move by night to the camouflaged bunkers and landing

strips."

„The strike force will set off from the space station precisely

one day from now," Kedin said. „We"ll pretend to be one

transport ship: remind Credig to monitor our signals and

listen for the code words."

„And I"ll make for Grake castle," Madok said.

„Maintain radio silence unless we have to deviate from the

plan," Kedin said. „And: good luck, Madok. Your part of this

operation is the closest to my heart. Bring Tevana to me, and

we"ll drink a toast to the overthrowing of tyrants. In four

days, Madok. Just four days."

It was now three days since the chains had been struck from

Bep-Wor"s wrists. He had been a slave; now he was leading a

crusade. He had been filthy, unshaven, and dressed in rags;

now his skin smelt of perfume and the buttons of his uniform

glittered.

He was riding one of the tall beasts, which he had learnt

were called camelopes. The Doctor insisted on walking.

As the Doctor"s confidant and mouthpiece, Bep-Wor found

that almost as many offerings were made to him as to the

Doctor himself. A second plate of food would appear in front

him at meal times; men would bring him the best trinkets

and weapons that they had found in the farms and cottages

they had liberated; women would come to him at night. Like

the Doctor, Bep-Wor refused all such offerings. Unlike the

Doctor, Bep-Wor allowed himself a few privileges: a camelope

to ride, a daily shave, clean clothes, and a separate room

each night, in whatever house they had sequestered, for

himself and Kia-Ga.

No one had ever seen the Doctor wash, or shave his face, or

change his clothes, or sleep. And yet he remained clean, grew

no beard, and remained alert. When questioned about it,

Bep-Wor would smile inscrutably: it did no harm to let the

people believe that he was privy to the Doctor"s secrets.

Protected by the uniform, a gun, a sword, and the speed of

his steed, Bep-Wor had cantered ahead of the Doctor and the

long column of marchers. He had swung south, to check that

the column was still proceeding parallel to the main road that

led to the capital, and that there were no soldiers on the

road. He had pressed on, into the increasingly dense

woodlands, to blaze a trail and to search for settlements,

whether so large that they were to be avoided or sufficiently

small that they could be overrun.

He had found not so much as a cottage, but there were

tracks running through the woods that indicated that the

forest had some populated areas. Through the trees he had

seen that in the distance the woodlands merged into a dense

forest that covered the flanks of the jagged peaks ahead.

At every farm and cottage the prisoners had passed since

their escape, Bep-Wor had sought information as well as

opportunities to free other slaves. Sometimes he bought

intelligence; sometimes, when the Doctor wasn"t nearby, he

used threats. He therefore knew that somewhere in the

woodlands, before the ground rose towards the distant peaks,

he and his people would come to a wide river. They would

have to cut south to the road, where they would be able to

cross the river on a bridge. There was a farm there, and a

trading post and a store: more slaves to liberate, plenty of

food, roofs to sleep under for the night.

Once over the river, they would be in Gonfallon: the lands

owned by the leader of all the people of this world. He called

himself by the title of King. His name, Bep-Wor had learnt,

was Vethran.

Bep-Wor knew, but would not admit to knowing, that the

woman with whom he had been lying for the past two nights

was not the same Kia-Ga he had loved on his own world. In

the same way he knew that the Doctor"s rag-tag army of

escaped prisoners and freed slaves could not prevail against

the soldiers of this world, with their guns and their loud

vehicles and their flying machines. And he knew that the

lands of the King would be heavily guarded.

But the Doctor wanted to go to the capital, and Bep-Wor

and all the others would follow him.

I will view the capital, Bep-Wor vowed. I will see the city at

the heart of this world. And then I"ll let the Doctor go on

without me. I"ll lead whoever will follow me into the forests,

and we"ll survive as best we can.

He urged his camelope to a trot, and set off to return to the

marching column.

It irked Tragar that no matter how many extra-stipendiary

purses and occasional gratuities he obtained from Balon

Ferud; no matter how many times he overstated prices and

skimmed off the excess coins for himself, without that fool

Bared even noticing; no matter how much gossip about his

lord"s household he was able to sell to the chamberlains of

Underton"s other great houses; no matter how hard he tried

to accumulate wealth, he never had quite enough to afford

his own pleasure Two.

He had, of course, found plentiful opportunities to taste

such sweetmeats. Pleasure Twos - the most attractive,

voluptuous, dextrous and pliable of the ever-willing migrants

from Mendeb Two - were bartered and sold between the

greater nobility with a frequency that was unsurprising, given

that aristocrats have preternaturally-jaded tastes. And as

chamberlain of Balon Ferud"s household, it was Tragar"s

responsibility to oversee the despatch and receipt of such

merchandise. Security was paramount, as pleasure Twos

were valuable. Almost as important was secrecy: the very

existence of pleasure Twos was merely a scandalous rumour

as far as the wives, servants, soldiers and tenants of the

noblemen were concerned.

Tragar unfailingly used his position to sample the goods in

transit.

I wouldn"t do it, he told himself, if the Twos objected. But

they"re always so happy to oblige.

Nonetheless, he resented the fact that he couldn"t afford

one of his own. Particularly as Balon Ferud, who was more

interested in hunting and politicking than the erotic arts,

kept two or three pleasure Twos at a time locked in an attic

room above the south wing.

And so it was that Tragar found himself feeing a dilemma.

Rigora had completed her training of Ace. The girl was ready

to enter Balon"s service, in almost any capacity from kitchen

drudge to arena warrior. It was Tragar"s duty to inform Balon

that Ace was ready, and to have her taken from Tragar"s

apartments in the east wing to whatever part of the house

Balon deemed appropriate, or to another of Balon"s

residences. Balon might even have Tragar send her to a

trader for re-sale.

Tragar couldn"t bring himself to send the news to Balon. In

any case, Tragar reasoned, Balon would have no opportunity

to put Ace to any use in the immediate future: the King had

summoned all the members of the Council to the capital.

Balon was due to leave that very afternoon, and would be

away for at least a week.

It was Tragar who had seen the potential in Ace, and who

had won the bidding for her. It seemed to him only fair that

he should have the girl to himself for a few days, until Balon

returned.

He realised that, deep in thought, he was walking in circles

around his study. He paced deliberately to the window, and

took several deep breaths as he looked out across the town.

The view usually calmed him, even after he had been locked

in disputation with Bared about the household finances. It

reassured him to know that while Balon was above him, and

while that upstart Bared was prepared to challenge him, he,

Tragar, was superior to even the wealthiest of the tradesmen

and merchants in the squalid houses whose roofs he looked

down on.

Today, however, his hands wouldn"t stop trembling.

Heavens, he wanted Ace so badly he"d defy his lord to have

her.

I should smoke a pipe, he told himself. I should let the

spore-seed calm me, and then, once Balon has departed for

the capital, I will venture down the stairs, and fetch Ace.

No. I can"t wait. I"ll have her now.

He strode to the door, pulled it open, and called down the

length of his hallway. „Poa-Nan! Go downstairs, go to Rigora,

and tell her that I want the Two named Ace in my apartments

immediately."

He closed the door and leant against it. What if Balon

should want to see me before he leaves? he thought. It would

be typical of him to make a fuss about the house, just as he"s

leaving it for a week. What if he summons me while I"m in the

middle of...? His thoughts became incoherent as he imagined,

for the hundredth time, some of the activities that he might

perform with Ace.

He smiled. So much the better, he decided. It would be

amusing to leave Ace in order to discuss the stocking up of

the pantry, or some such trivia: to bow, and murmur

reassurances to Balon, while half-way through using Balon"s

most expensive Two.

Poa-Nan knocked at the door.

„Enter," Tragar called. The door opened, and Ace walked

into the room, followed by Poa-Nan.

She looked to left and right as she approached him. Once

again he marvelled at her. Twos didn"t do that: they were

universally uninterested in their surroundings, unless told to

look at something. What had Ace been like, he wondered,

before she was processed for use as a Two? She must have

been a tempestuous girl; uncontrollable.

It gave him a thrill of pleasure to think that this once-wild

girl would now happily obey the most humiliating

instructions.

„Leave," he ordered Poa-Nan. „Shut the door behind you.

And don"t disturb me until I call for you."

„Yes, sir," Poa-Nan said. The Two left the room.

At last Tragar was alone with the most costly Two on the

planet. He resisted the urge to touch her immediately. There

was no need to rush. Every delay simply sweetened the

tasting.

Ace stood still, smiling slightly, as he walked around her.

When should he order her to undress? Not yet: she was so

perversely appealing in her tightly-fitting, masculine, black

costume.

„Walk to the window, Ace," he said. Lean on the sill and look

out across the town."

„Yes, sir," Ace said, and did as she had been instructed.

Tragar folded his arms and watched her. How

unselfconsciously she moved; how unaware she was of the

provocative pose she had adopted as she gazed through the

window.

Which should he try first: the Plough and the Furrow,

perhaps? Or Covering the Bitch? How many of the Hundred

Forbidden Acts would he be able to teach her before Balon

returned from court?

Poa-Nan"s knock sounded on the door.

„Enter," Tragar said, automatically, a second before he

remembered that he had told Poa-Nan not to disturb him.

He turned towards the door, gathering the breath with

which to shout his anger at the Two. But he let the breath go

with a sigh. Poa-Nan was a Two, and a Two never disobeyed.

Therefore Tragar"s instruction had been overruled by

someone in whom Poa-Nan recognised an authority even

higher than Tragar"s. And there was only one such person.

„Balon Ferud wishes to see me," he said.

Poa-Nan was momentarily confused. „His lordship is in the

reception hall, sir," the Two said. „He told me to tell you that

he wants to see the Two named Ace."

Tragar closed his eyes. His desires had been so close to

fruition.

„Tragar!" Balon"s voice echoed along the hallway, as did the

sound of his heavy footsteps on the stairs. „Where is she,

Tragar? Where are you hiding that girl?"

„Come here, Ace," Tragar said. He could have wept with

anger and frustration. „Stand in the centre of the room." He

raised his voice. „In here, my lord. In my study."

The portly figure of Balon Ferud filled the width of the

doorway. He was dressed for the royal court in military

regalia: his broad chest had hardly sufficient room for its

array of medals and badges. „Stand aside!" he barked at Poa-

Nan, and strode into the room.

„I"m delighted to report," Tragar said, „that Ace"s training is

now complete. I anticipated that you might wish to see her,

my lord, so I had her brought here. I was just about to bring

her to you."

„Were you, indeed?" Balon said, with a sceptical glance. His

attention was taken by Ace. As Tragar had done, he walked

around her. He admired her costume. He stopped in front of

her.

Ace lowered her head. My lord," she said. „How may I serve

you?"

„I"m told you"re a fighter," Balon said. „Is that so?"

Ace grinned. „I can look after myself, my lord," she said. „I

don"t mind a bit of aggro. You want to start?"

Balon looked at Tragar. He chuckled. „She still has the

most remarkable character of speech," he said. „I"ll take her

with me. I think his Majesty will be amused. He might even

want to buy her, Tragar. I"ll make sure I make a profit on her,

too."

„I was sure she would prove to be a worthwhile investment,

my lord," Tragar said. His only consolation was that his

dangerously profligate expenditure of Balon"s money was

beginning to look like an inspired gamble.

„The carriages are ready to leave," Balon said as he strode

towards the door. „Bring her down immediately."

Tragar, Poa-Nan and Ace stood in silence as Balon"s

footsteps receded. Tragar extended his hand. He could at

least touch her before she went. A kiss, perhaps; some

fleeting, intimate caresses. No - what was the point?

„Poa-Nan," he said, „take Ace to the outer courtyard. Ace, go

with Poa-Nan and then follow the instructions of the guards."

He watched them leave, and then he went to the window

and filled his pipe.

The settlement, Bep-Wor discovered after the battle, was

called Felling Bridge. It had not, in truth, been much of a

battle: the traders and travellers had stared open-mouthed

from the windows of their cabins and of the inn while Bep-

Wor, astride his camelope, had led his ragged army along the

rutted street towards the bridge. Half a dozen soldiers had

lined up hurriedly to defend the river crossing: they fired

their guns into the air and, when they saw that the crowd

running towards them was not going to stop, they ran across

the bridge into Gonfallon.

Bep-Wor had posted his own guards on the bridge, to make

sure the soldiers didn"t return to recapture it. He had had no

difficulty in persuading the merchants and the innkeeper to

surrender their properties: the very idea of free Twos was

enough to terrify them into submission.

In the dining room of the inn, after a meal from the

innkeeper"s pantry washed down with wine from the

innkeeper"s cellar, the army had cheered Bep-Wor and the

Doctor, and had joined in the chorus of the hastily-composed

ballad, „The Battle of Felling Bridge".

The next morning, the army crossed the bridge and entered

Gonfallon.

The land was forested, but criss-crossed with paths and

scattered with clearings. As on the other side of the river,

Bep- Wor led the column away from the road, but followed its

direction. The terrain undulated, but tended to go uphill

rather than down.

At midday Bep-Wor brought the column to a halt in a

clearing. He set sentries. The army"s numbers had been

swollen again, by the addition of Twos set free at Felling

Bridge, and those under the influence of the potion now

outnumbered those whom the Doctor had saved from taking

it. Bep-Wor found it increasingly difficult to remember which

men and women were drugged. They all behaved the same:

afloat on a wave of success, and with the Doctor as their

steersman, they were all happy to obey Bep-Wor"s directions.

„We"ll rest here a while," he said to the nearest group of

men. „Break open the rations, and eat sparingly. Drink, but

nothing intoxicating. And keep the noise down. Pass the word

to everyone else."

He watched as the men threaded their way through the

throng in the clearing, disseminating his orders. Bep-Wor

was sure that the group he"d spoken to had been on the

transport ship with him; but had they taken the drug, or

not? He couldn"t be sure. And it didn"t matter.

The next task was to see to the Doctor. Arduous cross-

country marches didn"t seem to tire the Doctor, who usually

strode ahead of the main column and who fidgeted

impatiently at any delay. Bep-Wor knew that the Doctor

would become bad-tempered if given nothing to do; and

reluctant as Bep-Wor was to forego his midday meal, he

knew that it would bolster his authority if he were to spend

time alone with the Doctor.

He found the Doctor at the edge of the clearing, peering

into the forest. „Let"s scout ahead," he suggested, „while the

others take a rest."

The Doctor pulled a dial from his pocket and studied the

numbers on its face. „It"s been almost a week," he said. „And I

still don"t even know where she is."

„We"re going as fast as we can, Doctor," Bep-Wor said. „It

would be dangerous for you to go alone, even if we could

persuade the army not to follow you."

The Doctor smiled. To Bep-Wor"s relief the Doctor had been

less irritable since the bloodless battle at the river crossing. „I

know," the Doctor said. „The guards who ran from the bridge

must have retreated along the road we"re following. I"m

surprised we haven"t already come across more soldiers out

looking for us."

„All the more reason for us to look at the way ahead," Bep-

Wor said. „I"ll rest my animal. Let"s go on foot."

He looked round as he and the Doctor passed from the

light of the clearing into the shadow of the trees. He waved.

He wanted to be sure that his departure was noticed: the

army would think that he was going to discuss arcane

mysteries with the Doctor.

Some time later he and the Doctor were crouching on the

treeless summit of a small hill.

„We should return," Bep-Wor said. „They"ll start to get

restless if we"re away too long."

He thought that the Doctor hadn"t heard him, and was

about to repeat his words, when the Doctor glanced round

and lowered his outstretched arm: he wanted Bep-Wor to

keep down.

Bep-Wor lay on his front beside the Doctor. „Look," the

Doctor said, „the road goes in a wide curve around those two

peaks."

Bep-Wor squinted. He had been renowned for his keen

eyesight, but he suspected that the Doctor could see more

and further than he. Now he could make out the snaking

thread of the distant road.

„We should keep to the south of those hills," he said. „We"ll

save ourselves an hour"s marching."

„That"s true," the Doctor said. „More to the point, however, is

the fact that we"ll also avoid being shot. Look there."

Bep-Wor rubbed his eyes and stared. Beyond the two hills

there was movement on the road. It was a column of soldiers:

he saw the glint of weapons. There were hundreds of them.

He felt ridiculously proud. The King of this world had sent

out a vast force of his crisply uniformed soldiers to deal with

Bep-Wor"s little band. „They"re not taking any chances with

us," he said.

„That"s not all," the Doctor said. „There are just as many off

the road. I can see them moving through the forest on both

sides. They mean to catch us."

„Well, they won"t," Bep-Wor said, stepping backwards from

the summit, „thanks to your sharp eyes. We"ll keep south,

and they"ll miss us."

The Doctor joined him. „There will be others," the Doctor

said. „We"re only a day"s march from the capital, according to

the innkeeper. We can expect the King"s forces to be more

numerous the closer we get."

„Then we"ll continue to scout ahead," Bep-Wor said. „It"s just

a matter of -"

He stopped. Watching him and the Doctor was a man,

standing still and almost invisible among the trees that

ringed the summit of the hill.

Bep-Wor"s hand went to his gun. But the man wasn"t a

soldier: he had a long beard, he was wearing clothes sewn

from animal skins and, although he had at his belt a long

knife in a decorated scabbard, he wasn"t threatening. He was

just watching them.

Still, Bep-Wor thought, it didn"t do for anyone to see them.

How much had this man overheard? He would have ensured

the man"s silence - if the Doctor hadn"t been with him. With a

silent curse he let his hand fall from the gun.

The man remained where he was while the Doctor and Bep-

Wor regained the cover of the trees, but he didn"t address

them.

„Who are you?" Bep-Wor asked him. „What are you doing

here, dressed in such strange clothing?"

The man didn"t answer, but slowly ran his gaze over Bep-

Wor"s purloined uniform and the Doctor"s crumpled jacket

and trousers. „Strange clothing," he repeated, slowly.

He turned and strode away into the trees. „Forester," he

called over his shoulder. „Come. Eat in my house."

Bep-Wor and the Doctor looked at each other.

„I suppose that"s his function," the Doctor said, „rather than

his name."

„We should follow him," Bep-Wor said. „We need to be sure

he won"t send the soldiers after us. And I am hungry."

The forester lived a short way down the side of the hill, in a

wooden cabin that was no more than a hut. It had a covered

porch with a spectacular view across the surrounding

wooded hills.

„See the city," the forester said, pointing towards the

horizon.

It was true. Bep-Wor could see the towers and spires of a

town, shimmering in the gap between two of the hills.

„Forester," Bep-Wor said. „This is the Doctor, and I"m -" He

hesitated, unwilling to reveal his name. He was dressed as

soldier; he would invent a rank for himself. „I"m the General,"

he concluded.

The forester nodded thoughtfully. He opened the door of

the hut and called inside. „Dab! Here."

A man emerged from inside the hut. He was tall, slim, and

younger than Bep-Wor. He was dressed in a cotton robe and

his hair was as long as a woman"s, but Bep-Wor recognised

him as a fellow-countryman - a Two.

„Dab," said the forester, indicating the young man. He

pointed to his guests. „Doctor. General. Dab, talk to them." He

plunged into the dark interior of the hut.

„Yes, forester," Dab replied. He turned towards the Doctor

and Bep-Wor. „Good day to both of you, and welcome to the

forester"s house. We live simply here, and we have few

visitors. We were about to eat. Would you like to share our

meal?"

Bep-Wor and the Doctor exchanged a glance, and then

both nodded. The forester emerged from the hut carrying a

rickety table, which he placed on the deck of the porch.

„Talk," he said. „Good."

Dab smiled, and made a graceful gesture with one arm.

„The forester has a monosyllabic habit of speech," he said.

„He"s become unaccustomed to intercourse, other than with

me."

„Are you -?" Bep-Wor began. „Are you from the other planet?

From Two?"

„Why, yes," Dab replied, „of course. My full name is Dab-Tar.

I grew up on Starpoint Island." He frowned, as if the

memories of his childhood were unpleasant.

Bep-Wor knew the island. It was obvious to him that Dab-

Tar was one of his people, but he couldn"t decide whether the

Two was under the influence of the drug. The forester, who

said nothing as he arranged chairs around the table and

carried trays of food and crockery from the hut, seemed more

servile than Dab.

„The forester, as his title suggests," Dab said, „cares for the

forest. He is one of twenty-four such, appointed by the King"s

First Huntsman to inhabit the depths of the King"s sylvan

wilderness, there to protect the fauna and flora."

Bep-Wor had never heard a Two, drugged or otherwise,

speak in such convoluted sentences. „Is the pay good?" he

asked.

Dab fluttered his hands. „Financial remuneration there is

almost none," he said. „But the forester"s needs are few and

simple."

Bep-Wor realised that there was no alternative: he would

simply have to ask, and apologise afterwards if necessary.

„The forester had enough money to afford you, though."

„I was inexpensive," Dab said. He was silent for a moment,

frowning again, and then he smiled. „None of the traders

wanted me. I am too delicate for manual labour, and I had

barely survived the journey to this world. I was expected to

die."

The incongruity of Dab"s cheerful expression as he spoke

convinced Bep-Wor that Dab was under the influence of the

drug.

The forester struck a plate with a wooden spoon to attract

attention. „Dab: a bargain," he said, a grin gleaming in the

depths of his beard. „Eat now."

The four men sat round the table. Dab opened the lid of a

casserole, and stirred the contents with a spoon. „The forester

is also the hunter and the chef," he said. „I"m afraid I don"t

recognise the birds and beasts that he brings home. But this

is a stew of fowl and roots, I know that much, and here we

have a salad of cresses, and unleavened bread, and potted

meat."

Bep-Wor"s stomach was groaning for food. While Dab

spooned stew on to his plate he managed to comment that

the meal looked tasty, but as soon as the plate was set in

front of him he forgot all about conversation. He grabbed a

piece of bread and began shovelling the stew into his mouth.

It was hot and good.

The Doctor, of course, merely toyed with his food, and

therefore had time to think about the strange behaviour and

speech of the Two named Dab.

The forester was as silent as Bep-Wor, but for much

slurping of soup and sucking of beard. Like Bep-Wor, he

seemed content to listen to the animated conversation of Dab

and the Doctor.

„You have a very extensive vocabulary," the Doctor said. „Do

you read a lot?"

Dab laughed. Bep-Wor, his spoon halfway to his mouth,

stared at him: he had never before heard a drugged Two

laugh. Not even Kia-Ga, not even when he gave her pleasure.

„My purpose is to read," Dab said. „I sometimes think the

forester"s books are more dear to him than I am. He has a

small library of ancient texts, but lacks the learning to

comprehend the printed words. Every evening I read to him,

by lamplight, before we retire to bed. He says he likes to hear

my voice."

„Ah, yes," the Doctor said. „I understand now. And the

forester has instructed you to talk, and to use your voice."

„Yes, Doctor. The forester wishes me to be at all times

loquacious, if not positively verbose."

„What a remarkable and convenient arrangement," the

Doctor cried. „Don"t you think so, ah, General? Dab is the

forester"s voice - his interpreter of books, his spokesman with

strangers. Are you happy here, Dab?"

„Very happy, Doctor. I am happy for the first time in my life.

The forester and I care for each other."

Bep-Wor put his hand on the Doctor"s sleeve. „He has to

say that, Doctor," he whispered. „He"s taken the drug. He"s

obeying the forester"s instructions."

The Doctor pursed his lips. „That"s true. But still -" he said,

and might have said more, had the forester not slowly risen

to his feet with his hand on his scabbard. The silence of the

forest was broken by a shout.

„There they are," the voice called. „Doctor! Doctor!"

The forester pulled Dab from the table and stood in front of

the young man.

The Doctor and Bep-Wor also stood. Bep-Wor could see a

few figures now, running between the trees.

„Your army has come to find us," the Doctor said. „You"d

better go and keep them quiet, or we"ll have all the King"s

men here before you can say Humpty Dumpty."

Bep-Wor set off down the steps from the porch, but before

he had reached the ground his people emerged from the

surrounding trees. The entire army had decamped. „Doctor!

Doctor!" they chanted, as they converged on the forester"s

hut.

Bep-Wor held up his hands, trying to silence the crowd.

But they seemed excited at having found Bep-Wor and the

Doctor, and he found it impossible to keep them quiet.

„It"s all right," he said, trying to make himself heard.

„There"s nothing to make a noise about. I"m safe. The Doctor"s

safe. This is the hut of the forester. He lives here with one of

our people."

The men and women, jostling with each other on the thin

circle of clear ground between the forest and the hut,

gradually fell silent. Then one voice - Bep-Wor recognised it

as belonging to one of the men who had been with him and

the Doctor on the transport ship - shouted, „One of our

people? Free him!"

The cry was taken up by others around the circle. As he

tried to calm the crowd Bep-Wor reflected that his general

instructions to the freed Twos - that they should copy the

behaviour of those who hadn"t taken the drug - did not

always produce the desired results.

Suddenly the crowd roared, and surged forward. Bep-Wor

turned to see that the Doctor had appeared at the head of the

short stairway from the porch of the hut. He gestured for the

Doctor to move back, out of sight, but instead the forester

appeared behind the Doctor.

There was nothing Bep-Wor could do to control his army.

As the men and women ran up the steps, pushing him aside,

he could only watch as events unfolded with a tragic

inevitability.

The forester, no doubt concerned to protect Dab, drew his

long knife from its scabbard. Bep-Wor"s followers howled:

they saw only a bearded stranger threatening the Doctor with

a blade.

It was all over by the time Bep-Wor pushed through the

crowd and reached the topmost stair. The forester was dead;

Dab, his face showing only confusion, was being carried in

triumph on the shoulders of his liberators.

The Doctor was kneeling by the forester"s body. He looked

up as Bep-Wor approached.

„Doctor," Bep-Wor began, „I tried

„I know," the Doctor said. He shut his eyes for a moment

and sighed. „There was nothing you could do. Let"s get on." He

pointed towards the turrets of the distant capital. „Let"s get

this finished."

The men had been marching all through the night, and now

they were resting: each one sitting with his back to the tall

trunk of one of the evergreen needletrees that covered the

slopes around Grake Castle. Some were dozing; some were

cleaning their weapons. They wore no uniform, no badges of

rank: they were dressed as farm workers. Each had a vial of

deadly poison hanging from a chain around his neck: better

to die than to be captured and interrogated, particularly as

the King"s interrogators made free use of SS10. If the attack

were to fail, the King would have no prisoners, and no proof

of the identities of the attackers.

Hidden in a convoy of hay wains they had come into

Gonfallon two days previously from the neighbouring domain

of Harran. When dusk fell the convoy had stopped, but the

soldiers had kept moving: on foot now, in the darkness, into

the hills around the capital, following the phosphorescent

trail that Madok had sprayed from the craft he"d flown from

Jerrissar.

The men from Harran marched by night and concealed

themselves during the days. Madok, meanwhile, made two

more flights, dropping at the rendezvous point crates

containing rations, a radio set, ammunition, and heavier

weapons than those being carried by the men.

There was no landing strip in the needletree forest that

surrounded Grake. On his final flight, just as dawn was

breaking, Madok had jumped from his machine and

parachuted on to the rendezvous site. He"d rigged the

controls so that the craft continued to fly: over the castle,

and into the rocky slope beyond it. As he pulled himself to

his feet Madok saw the orange burst of flame as the machine

struck the hillside, and then heard the dull noise of the

explosion. A spiral of black smoke ascended into the

lightening sky.

He had smiled with satisfaction. If the guards at Grake stir

themselves to investigate anything today, he had thought,

they"ll head towards that beacon of fire and smoke. And we"ll

come from precisely the opposite direction.

Shortly afterwards six rough-looking countrymen had

wandered into the clearing where Madok, rifle in hand, was

guarding the crates of supplies. The men were the advance

guard of the Harran detachment, and they had arrived a little

earlier than expected. Madok was impressed. Everything, so

far, had gone according to the plan. Madok didn"t believe in

omens, good or bad, but the successful rendezvous was

encouraging: he would be able to proceed with a full

complement of fully-armed troops, against defenders who

had had no warning of the attack. None of the contingencies

would be required.

Soon Tevana Roslod would be free.

Now Madok was lying on his stomach among the trees,

inspecting the walls of Grake through his telescope. As a

castle, Madok reckoned, Grake was a passable hunting lodge.

Although it occupied the peak of a hill, it was overlooked by

higher peaks, such as the one on which Madok"s force was

encamped. Not for the first time Madok regretted that he had

been unable to equip himself with artillery. Still, it would be

easy enough to storm the defences. The curtain wall lay in

ruins, and trees had been allowed to grow up to the central

square of buildings. Madok had provided himself with

explosive charges powerful enough to bring down entire

walls; the trees would allow his men to place the charges

undetected.

It would be almost too easy. Then Madok"s eye caught a

movement on the far side of the castle. He focused the

telescope, and saw a troop of the castle guards marching

down the hill, away from the castle and towards the burning

wreckage of his flying machine. Now, he thought, it will be

even easier.

„Sir!" The Harran commander was crouching behind Madok,

keeping out of sight of the castle"s watchtowers. „I thought

you might be interested to listen in."

Madok stood up. „Don"t worry too much about being

spotted," he said. „The sentry points face inwards: they"re

more concerned with keeping their prisoners in than keeping

anyone out." He looked into the clearing, where a group of

soldiers had gathered around the radio set. „You"re not

transmitting?" he said.

„Of course not, sir," the commander replied. „But we"ve

picked up incoming signals from Kedin Ashar."

Madok ran towards the radio set. „Let me share a set of

phones," he said, and pressed his ear against the other side

of one of the thick discs.

„I can only repeat my apologies," Kedin was saying, his voice

thin and overlaid with crackles. „Tell commissioner Dallid

that the consignment will be delayed by one-and-a-half days

at most."

A second voice, so distorted and obscured by hisses that

Madok could not make out the words, replied to Kedin.

„Really?" Kedin said. „How unfortunate. Well, tell the new

commissioner, then. Tell his Majesty himself. Our ships have

to be serviced from time to time. The next consignment will

be delayed by one and a half days."

Madok lifted his head away from the earphone. He had

heard enough. Kedin"s transmission purported to be from the

space station. The one-and-a-half days" delay was the coded

signal to the Bridge: it meant that Kedin was not transmitting

from the station, but from one of the fleet of ships that was

now halfway to Mendeb Three.

The main assault force was on its way.

Bep-Wor knew for a fact that the largest town on his world -

or at least the northern half of it - was Norport. He had been

there: he had sailed into its harbour, he had walked along its

main avenue, he had haggled in its market, he had become

lost in its back alleys.

Norport was a mere village compared to Gonfallon city, the

capital of this new world"s King.

Even the Doctor, Bep-Wor thought, had been taken aback

by the size of the city. Its streets and walls coated the floor

and sides of a wide valley, around which were the forested

hills that had become familiar during the previous days of

marching. A wide river ran through the valley and bisected

the city. Bep-Wor had counted the bridges that spanned the

sluggish flow: there were eight, all of them built of stone. The

river was alive with barges and other boats; the bridges

swarmed with people and vehicles. On either side of the river

the city was a maze of streets and alleys, mansions and

hovels, fields and yards and towers and mills. Smoke rose

from the tall stacks above workshops, from domestic

chimneys, and from bonfires.

Near the centre of the city was the oldest quarter: a warren

of small streets, zigzagging about the sides of a low hill,

enclosed within an ancient rampart. The top of the hill

consisted of just one agglomeration of buildings, covering an

area larger than the rest of the old city. Its highest towers

were so tall that they seemed to rise into the clouds; its

monumental walls contained entire parks; the glass dome at

its centre shimmered in the sunlight. This was the King"s

palace.

All this Bep-Wor could see from the wooded hillside across

which he and his army were making slow progress. They had

stopped again, following his example, to gaze down at the city

from behind the screen of trees.

The Doctor, who had gone ahead, came bustling through

the forest. „What"s holding you up, Bep-Wor?" he said. „You

must get your people off the hillside. We know there are

patrols of soldiers out on these hills."

It was true. Bep-Wor had almost walked into a heavily-

armed troop of the King"s soldiers only that morning. His

army"s march of liberation had become a scurrying between

trees, a hiding from patrols. They were too near the city: too

near the seat of the King"s power.

But Bep-Wor couldn’t bring himself to leave. He and the Doctor should have parted

company by now: they could have done it last night, under cover of darkness, giving the

army no opportunity to follow the Doctor down into the valley.

„What"s wrong with you, Bep-Wor?" the Doctor said. „We"ve

spent the whole day dodging soldiers. I"m no nearer the

capital, and your people are in constant danger of capture.

You must lead them away from here."

„I know, Doctor." Bep-Wor sighed. „But it will feel like a

retreat - like an admission of defeat. Part of me wants to lead

our little army down into those wide streets, just as an act of

defiance. And I suppose," he added, feeling his face redden as

he spoke, „that I don"t want to be parted from you. Our lives

have been intertwined since you appeared outside the ruins

of my house."

The

Doctor

grimaced

with

embarrassment

and

exasperation. „I"m very grateful to you, Bep-Wor," he said, „for

providing me with an escort on this journey. But I have to

travel alone on the final part of the road, and you and your

people must move to somewhere safer." He looked up at the

sky. „It"s getting dark. I"ve scouted round this hill, and I think

it"s clear of soldiers. Let"s make camp on the far side."

„Agreed," Bep-Wor said. He waved his arms in the air,

indicating to his people that they should hurry around the

hillside and then stop for the night. „And during the night?"

The Doctor shrugged. „I"ll slip away quietly. Tell your people

the truth: that I"ve gone alone to seek an audience with the

King."

Bep-Wor thought that even now he might be able to

dissuade the Doctor from such a foolhardy mission. „It will be

dangerous, Doctor. You will certainly be captured."

„Don"t worry, Bep-Wor. They won"t know who I am. It"s only

when I"m with your army that I can be identified as an

escaped prisoner. Alone, I"ll simply be a visitor. Don"t worry

about me. I"m used to doing this sort of thing. It"s almost a

hobby of mine. The ruler of the planet Chloris, for instance,

tried to have me killed by throwing me into a pit. It didn"t

work, of course, and it didn"t do her much good, either. As

you know, I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Bep-Wor studied the sleeves of the Doctor"s jacket. He

couldn"t think of anything to say. He knew the Doctor was

right. He became aware that the Doctor was no longer

looking at him, but had instead turned his face towards the

sky. Then he realised that the evening wasn"t silent: a noise

like a continuous rumble of thunder was getting louder -

getting closer.

„Look!" the Doctor said. „Over there. Coming down beyond

the next hill."

Six dark shapes were descending on pillars of fire.

„Friend or foe, I wonder?" said the Doctor.

Throughout the day Madok had remained close to the radio

set. There had been plenty to do: breaking out the supplies,

distributing the ammunition and rations, going over the

attack plan, drilling the men. Nonetheless it had felt like a

day spent waiting.

The signal came at dusk.

„Sir!" the radio operator called. Madok was at his side in an

instant. „Coded message, sir."

Madok put the spare set of earphones to his head.

„All ships are now berthed at the station," he heard. It was

Kedin"s voice. „I repeat, all ships are now berthed at the

station. The recovery operation can begin at once. Please

acknowledge."

This was it. Kedin"s message told Madok that the main

assault force had landed. In the unlikely event that anyone

else had picked up the signal, it would convey only

misleading information.

Madok was impressed: he had been listening for the sound

of the landing, and had been watching the skies for any sight

of the ships. The capital was only five kilometres away. Kedin

and the pilots had brought the ships down surreptitiously.

„Acknowledge," he said. „And then pack up the kit. We"re

going in."

Madok took up his telescope and made a final scan of

Grake Castle. Lights were burning in a few of the windows,

but not in any that overlooked the wall where the first

charges were to be placed. Only one of the watchtowers was

occupied by a sentry. The party that had left that morning to

investigate the crash of Madok"s flying machine had still not

returned. The weather was clear, and as night fell his men

would have the cover of darkness as well as of the forest.

Conditions for the attack could not have been better.

The men from Harran were gathering in the clearing,

organising themselves into the three attack groups. In their

rough clothing, and with their faces blackened, they looked

more like bandits than soldiers. Their teeth gleamed in the

darkness as they joked with each other and jostled into line.

Madok held up his hands to stop the whispered

conversations, and then addressed the men.

„We will proceed immediately," he said. „We have the

advantage of surprise, we outnumber the defenders, and we

have superior weaponry. And, of course, you are of Harran,

and they are merely of Gonfallon."

The soldiers cheered. Madok smiled: no problems with

troop morale on this mission.

„If the Castlain has any sense," Madok continued, „he"ll

surrender quickly. However, his men are defending a

prisoner whose importance to the King cannot be

overestimated. We may find ourselves fighting through every

doorway in the castle. We know that we are taking the first

step to overthrow a tyrant. If we fail, however, we will be no

more than traitors. Therefore we succeed or we die in the

attempt."

The men cheered again.

„Group One will make and hold the breach. Group Two will

guard the exits: it is vital that no messenger leaves the castle.

I will lead Group Three: we"ll go in and we"ll take and hold the

prison tower. Then Groups One and Two will post sentries

and will move into the castle. Commanders, use your

loudhailers: we want the defenders to surrender rather than

fight. Speed is essential. It is possible that the Castlain is

under orders to harm Tevana Roslod if an attempt is made to

free her. And our sole aim is to bring Tevana out, unharmed.

Are you ready?"

The men were oddly quiet. Then one of their Group

commanders began to sing, and the entire troop joined in.

Their voices filled the clearing with words of defiance and

glory. Slavery would be ended, injustice would be ended, and

the men of Harran were going to do the work.

Still singing, more quietly now, and carrying explosive

charges in their backpacks, the men of Group One jogged

into the dark forest, making towards Grake Castle.

Night had fallen. Bep-Wor tripped over tree roots and pushed

through undergrowth as he tried to keep up with the Doctor,

who seemed uncannily able to see in the dark.

They left their army of followers on the side of the hill that

faced away from the lights of the capital city. The Doctor was

in a hurry, and was not prepared to wait for the entire

column to stumble through the forest in his wake.

„Tell them to set up camp here," he told Bep-Wor. „It"s too

dark now to march through these woods. You can assure

them that we"ll return soon. Now we must try to find the

place where those ships landed." He paced back and forth,

twiddling his thumbs, while Bep-Wor gave hurried

instructions. And then he plunged into the black shadows

under the trees, and Bep-Wor followed him.

Although he had to concentrate on keeping up with the

Doctor and on avoiding the thorns and branches of the

woodland, Bep-Wor had time to think about the massive

machines he and the Doctor had seen descending from the

sky. He was sure they were transport ships, similar to the

one that had brought him and the Doctor to this world. That

meant they were from the space station, the artificial world

built in ancient times and set between his own world and this

one. The Doctor said that he had to find out what the ships

were doing here, but Bep-Wor suspected that the Doctor had

another reason for his desperation to reach, the ships: the

people from the space station might have information about

his friend Ace.

The ships had landed further away than Bep-Wor had first

thought. He followed the Doctor down from the hill on which

they had left their followers, up the side of another hill, and

down again towards a wide valley. He was scratched, footsore

and exhausted. The capital city could no longer be seen.

There were no lights; the only sound was of the Doctor"s

footsteps, leading him onwards.

He didn"t realise they had reached the ships" landing site

until he caught up with the Doctor. He bent double to relieve

the ache in his side and to breathe deeply. It was only as he

straightened that he saw that he and the Doctor were

surrounded by uniformed soldiers. The soldiers" guns were

pointing at his chest.

„It"s all right," the Doctor said, holding up his hands. „I"m

not armed. Do you think you could take me to your leader?

That seems to be the appropriate phrase. He will want to see

me."

The soldiers" uniforms were not exactly like Bep-Wor"s own.

He recognised them as the same as those worn by the guards

on the cargo pod and the transport ship.

The soldiers studied the Doctor and Bep-Wor. The Doctor

tapped his foot impatiently while the soldiers held a short

debate about whether the two of them should be shot

immediately as spies.

„Take them to the Duke," one of them decided. „Keep them

covered, and wing them if they try to run. Send back a couple

of men to maintain the cordon."

Followed by two of the soldiers, the Doctor and Bep-Wor

continued to push through the forest. The trees soon

thinned, and they found themselves descending into the

valley, a flat-bottomed bowl of open land surrounded by hills.

The transport ships, sinister black shapes, squatted in a

rough circle that spanned the valley. The ships were showing

no lights, and the valley might have been deserted but for the

muted sounds of men and machines issuing from within the

circle.

As he was led beside the vast metal hull of one of the ships,

Bep-Wor realised that large numbers of soldiers and vehicles

were on the move - and that they didn"t want to be noticed.

In the centre of the circle, like an island in the sea of

swarming troops and manoeuvring vehicles, stood a craft

that was small, at least in comparison to the other

transports. Bep-Wor supposed that it must be a flying

machine, such as those used by the invaders of his world,

although it had only stubby wings and no circular fan at its

nose. The two soldiers brought Bep-Wor and the Doctor to

the side of this craft, where they were met by two more

soldiers in more ornate uniforms.

„Sir," one of their escorts said, „we picked up these two at

the perimeter. This one says he wants to speak to the Duke."

The officers exchanged a look. „We"ve no time for that," one

of them said. „The transports have to lift off again in a few

minutes."

A door slid open in the side of the craft, and a slim figure

stood silhouetted against the yellow light inside. „It"s all right,

Lafed," he said. „There is always time for visitors. Come in,

please. I"m afraid the accommodation is rather cramped."

The soldiers shrugged, and then made way for the Doctor

and Bep-Wor to climb the few steps to the doorway.

Bep-Wor stood blinking in the light. He had thought that

he was becoming accustomed to seeing mechanical marvels,

but he could only stand and stare at the array of winking

lights and glowing screens. He knew, instinctively, that like

the transport ships this craft was as far above the invaders"

vehicles and flying machines as those machines were above

the fishing boats he used to crew. It had been made by the

ancient ones: the people who had brought his ancestors from

the stars.

And it was, indeed, very cramped. The tall, slim man folded

himself into the single seat at the front of the cabin, and

swivelled it to face the Doctor and Bep-Wor, who squeezed

into the two seats at the back.

The man perused his two visitors for a long moment. „Well,"

he said at last, „I"m Kedin Ashar, Duke of Jerrissar, Lord of

the Skies, and so forth. And you," he said, looking at Bep-

Wor"s uniform, „appear to be a corporal in one of the King"s

regiments."

„And you thought you were a general," the Doctor

murmured.

„I am Bep-Wor," Bep-Wor said, stifling the urge to address

the man as sir ."I am from the world you call Mendeb Two."

Kedin Ashar sat back in his seat. „Great heavens," he said,

„I believe you are. So he belongs to you," he went on, turning

to the Doctor.

„Of course not," the Doctor snapped. „He"s a free man. And

there are a couple of hundred more like him camped two hills

away."

Kedin nodded. „Of course," he said. „The consignment of

Twos that proved to be sub-standard. Obviously you"ve

managed to escape. Do you mind me asking how you avoided

falling under the influence of that dreadful potion?"

„That"s easy," the Doctor said. „They didn"t take it. I stopped

them. Bep-Wor helped me."

„And you, I take it," Kedin said, leaning forwards to peer at

the Doctor, „are not from Mendeb Two?"

The Doctor lifted his hat. „I"m the Doctor," he said. „I expect

you"ve heard of me."

Kedin frowned. „Do you know," he said, „I believe you"re

right. Now where could I have heard of you? Ah!" he said, as

though he had suddenly remembered. A look of anguish

contorted his aquiline features for a moment. „I should have

guessed, I suppose."

It was the Doctor"s turn to lean forwards. „And where is

Ace?" he said.

Kedin looked up at the cabin"s ceiling. „I don"t know," he

admitted. He stared at the Doctor, his eyes seeming to plead

for understanding. „I have been remiss. I should have taken

better care of her." He curled his lip and tossed his head,

disgusted with the inadequacy of his excuse. „I"ve been very

busy lately."

„Where is she?" the Doctor said. Bep-Wor saw icy fires

burning in the Doctor"s eyes.

„She"s on this planet, Doctor," Kedin said, spreading his

arms. „That"s all I know. My aide, Madok, may have more

information by now, but he isn"t here. He"s engaged on

another mission."

Kedin raised a finger to forestall the Doctor"s next question.

The Doctor scowled.

„I am engaged in an act of treason," Kedin said. „Reluctant

as I am to stoop to melodrama, it is no exaggeration to say

that the fate of this planet, as well as that of Mendeb Two,

depends on the actions we take within the next few hours."

The Doctor appeared sceptical. „You would claim to be

fighting for freedom and justice, I imagine," he said. „But for

all I know you"re simply mounting a coup d’état. One military

leader replacing another."

Kedin smiled wryly. „You have every reason to doubt my

motives, Doctor," he said. „And I can"t claim that I have a

grand new vision for my planet, nor that I"m acting from long-

held principles. I"m a soldier and a scientist, not a politician.

In the days when I helped Vethran to power I was

complacent; as soon as I realised the extent of my errors I

found myself coerced. I have some idea of the concern you

feel for your companion, Doctor. I, too, care for someone:

someone whom Vethran has kept within reach of his power,

in order to ensure my compliance."

„I understand," Bep-Wor exclaimed. Kedin"s words had

conjured the image of Kia-Ga into his mind. He saw that

Kedin would destroy the world to save the one he loved. And

to Bep-Wor that seemed entirely reasonable.

There was a knocking on the outside of the craft. A soldier

put his head through the doorway. „Sorry to interrupt, sir.

The road is secured, both directions, and we"ve started to

move the vehicles out. Lift-off in five minutes, if you"re ready."

„Thank you," Kedin said. „I"ll be with you shortly." The

soldier withdrew. „My apologies, Doctor, Bep-Wor. This is a

time for deeds, not words. Oh yes! I remember: I was trying to

dissuade you from the notion that I"m no better than the

King I intend to dethrone. What can I say that will convince

you? Vethran is mad for power; he has a lust for conquest so

insatiable that an entire planet has not satisfied him, and he

has forced me to assist him in invading Bep-Wor"s home

world; he rules a society in which the wealthy own slaves; the

formula which destroys the will of his captives and makes

them slaves was created under his personal direction. No

matter what shortcomings I may have, Doctor, don"t you

think I have every justification for removing him from his

throne?"

„That all sounds very plausible," the Doctor replied. „And do

you hope to fight your way across the King"s capital city with

the troops and vehicles you"ve assembled here?"

Kedin"s eyes shone with excitement. „By no means, Doctor.

I have as many men again already in the city. They have been

gathering for days, disguised as farmers, merchants,

travelling showmen. The King has summoned the court to

the Citadel, so the city is thronging with visitors. And then I

have a third force, which I will lead myself, in an aerial

attack."

„And now that we know your plans," the Doctor said, „I

suppose you"ll have to kill us."

Kedin threw back his head and laughed. „Great heavens,

no, Doctor," he said. „On the contrary. I want you to join me.

Lead your army of free slaves into the city."

He turned towards Bep-Wor. „If Vethran remains in power,

your people have no hope of freedom. This is your chance to

make a difference."

He turned back to the Doctor. „And you, Doctor, are too

wise to shirk your duty. You know I have right on my side. I

would value your advice."

Once again there was a knocking on the side of the craft.

„Ready for lift-off, sir," a voice called.

Kedin shrugged. „We have run out of time for talking," he

said. „It will be bullets and sword-strokes from now on." He

stood up. „I must ask you to leave now. Please consider my

words. If you wish to join us, bring your people here. I"ll tell

Lafed to expect you."

Deep in thought, the Doctor and Bep-Wor stepped down

from the craft. Beyond the black shapes of the transport

ships soldiers waved their arms, beckoning to them. „Clear

the area," voices shouted. „Hurry up! Get clear!"

Bep-Wor took the Doctor"s arm and pulled him onwards.

They ran between two of the vast vessels, and continued to

run up the slope and into the forest as the roar of the engines

of the transport ships became an unbearable scream.

„This will do," the Doctor panted, and he stopped on a

hillock. Bep-Wor stood beside him as they watched the six

huge shapes begin to rise, imperceptibly at first and then

with shocking speed, into the night sky. Kedin"s much

smaller craft spiralled upwards after them.

The valley was silent. The soldiers and vehicles had

withdrawn.

„Well, Bep-Wor," the Doctor said, „what do you think?"

„I think we should return to the camp quickly, Doctor. We

know there are soldiers from the city out in these hills."

„You"re right," the Doctor said. „Can you remember the way

back?"

Bep-Wor turned. He could see only the darkness of the sky

and under it the deeper darkness of the mounded hills. The

view in every direction was similar. „No, Doctor."

„In that case it"s a good job one of us has a sense of

direction," the Doctor said. „Follow me. And tell me what you

think we should do."

As they fought their way up and down the forested slopes,

the Doctor and Bep-Wor discussed whether either or both of

them should support Kedin"s attack on the city.

Bep-Wor was certain of what he had to do. Kedin had been

right: regardless of the vices or virtues of the protagonists in

the struggle, and regardless of the legality of the actions of

either side, and regardless of the chances of Kedin"s attack

being successful, it remained true that unless the present

King was overthrown Bep-Wor"s people would continue to be

enslaved. Bep-Wor saw no choice: he would have to bring his

small army to join Kedin"s forces.

After some debate the Doctor accepted the inevitability of

Bep-Wor"s decision. „You"ve right, Bep-Wor," he said, stopping

for a moment to disengage his jacket from a thorn bush, so

that Bep-Wor almost collided with him in the darkness. „And

I"ll come with you."

Bep-Wor was relieved. He had not been sure that he would

have been able to persuade his army to go anywhere without

the Doctor.

„As I said previously," the Doctor went on, „my main concern

is to find the seat of power on this planet and to rectify the

appalling mess that both worlds have got into. I can"t do that

by turning my back on this imminent conflict. And, of course,

I have plenty of experience of this sort of thing. I expect I"ll be

able to sort things out."

„Hush!" Bep-Wor said. He had heard a noise among the

trees. „Are we near to the camp?" he whispered.

„Yes," the Doctor said. „It"s just -"

He was suddenly silent. Bep-Wor turned to look at him. For

a moment his mind refused to understand what his eyes

were seeing. There was a man standing behind the Doctor. A

man in uniform. A soldier, with his gun pointed at the

Doctor"s body. Then something was thrust into his own ribs:

something hard.

The barrel of a gun.

„Looks like we"ve found two more runaways," the soldier

behind the Doctor said.

„Drop your weapons," the other ordered. Don"t even think of

making a run for it. We"ve a regiment on this hill, and all

your sorry crew are already in chains. That"s it: the carbine

and the sword, on the floor."

„We"ve got two more!" the first soldier shouted into the

darkness.

„Bring them," another voice replied. „Let"s get the whole lot

down to the city and into the dungeons."

Madok leant back in the Castlain"s chair and rested the heels

of his boots on the Castlain"s desk. He gazed at the figurine

that had pride of place on the polished surface, and then

nudged it with his toe until it fell to the floor. The Castlain"s

taste in ornaments left much to be desired and little to the

imagination. He ran his fingers through his hair and yawned.

„Four hours, lieutenant," he said.

„Fast work, sir," said the commander of Group Two. He had

his arm in a bloodstained sling and a smoking pipe clenched

between his teeth.

„It would have been faster if they hadn"t defended the

kitchens," Madok complained. „Did they think we"d broken in

to get our breakfast loaves?"

The sound of marching feet echoed along the corridor

outside the Castlain"s quarters.

„That will be the Castlain," the lieutenant said, strolling

towards the door.

„Send him in immediately," Madok said. „We have

unfinished business here."

Escorted by two of the lieutenant"s men, Castlain Pelod

strode into the room and stopped abruptly when he saw the

man sitting behind his desk. His grey-bearded jaw dropped

open, and for a moment he was unable to speak.

„Madok!" he spluttered. „Madok, by all the heavens what are

you doing here? Are you responsible for this bloody violence?

You"ve taken leave of your senses, man. You"ll hang for this."

„Or worse, I shouldn"t wonder," Madok said. „Calm yourself,

Pelod. Take a seat. It"s been a tiring night for all of us."

Pelod broke away from his guards and advanced towards

Madok. „You killed six of my men," he said.

„And your men killed three of mine," Madok said. „There will

be time to mourn our losses later. The important matter now

is this: do you surrender Grake Castle to me?"

Pelod shrugged. „Yes," he said. „I have no choice."

„Thank you," Madok said. He pulled his feet from the desk

and turned to the lieutenant. „Announce the surrender.

Disarm any of the garrison we haven"t yet captured. And then

set up the radio and send the message that we"ve

accomplished our mission."

Yes, sir," the lieutenant said, and marched from the room.

„Now then, Pelod," Madok said. „Please be seated. We have

searched the cells in the prison tower. I trust you"ll save us

the chore of searching every cell in the main block and below

ground. Just tell me where she is."

Pelod sat opposite Madok. He perched on the edge of the

seat, leaning forward, his face still red with indignation.

„Where who is, Madok?"

Madok banged his fist on the desk. „Don"t play games,

Pelod. You have only one significant prisoner here. I"m

looking for Tevana Roslod."

Pelod leant back. A slight smile appeared on his lips. For

the first time since he launched the attack on Grake, Madok

felt a shiver of doubt.

„So this is the work of Kedin Ashar," Pelod said. „I might

have guessed. I always thought Kedin would prove unworthy

of his Majesty"s trust, in the end. You"ve allowed yourself to

be seduced into treason, Madok."

Where is Tevana Roslod?" Madok persisted. „If she"s come to

any harm you will pay for it."

Pelod folded his arms. „I am a loyal subject of King

Vethran," he said. „I have defended his Majesty"s castle to the

best of my ability, and I have surrendered it according to the

requirements of military law. I am not required to answer

your questions."

Madok stared at the Castlain. „Vethran"s reign is about to

end," he said. „You will gain nothing by hindering me now."

Madok did his best to invest his words with conviction, but

he knew that were he in Pelod"s position he too would refuse

to cooperate with his captors.

Pelod said nothing. He sat stolidly in his chair with his

arms crossed over his chest.

„Take him away," Madok told the soldiers. „Put him in a cell.

We"ll have to search this castle from the cellars to the

battlements."

Bep-Wor, with Kia-Ga at his side, had led his army in

chanting „Doctor! Doctor!" throughout the long march

through the dark streets of the city. The blows and curses of

the King"s soldiers had done nothing to dampen the spirits of

the captives, and Bep-Wor had felt a sense of victory as his

people entered within the high walls of the palace.

Now, however, he was finding it difficult to keep his spirits

up. His army was silent; the only noises were the dripping of

water from the damp walls of the dungeon, and the Doctor"s

footsteps as he paced back and forth. There was no light:

even in the middle of the long winters on his home world

Bep-Wor had never known such impenetrable darkness. It

lay like a black blanket, smothering thought and hope alike.

He had no way of knowing how long he and his people had

been kept underground. Was it still night above them, or had

a new day dawned? Would he ever see another day? The

pressure of Kia-Ga"s body against his provided no comfort:

perhaps he would never see her face again.

He lifted his head: he had heard the sound of marching

feet. The sound became louder; nearer. A shaft of light fell

across the huddled bodies: a door had opened, high up.

There were torches, soldiers, shouts.

Bep-Wor"s eyes adjusted to the illumination. A row of

soldiers, with their guns aimed at the prisoners below, were

standing on a stone gallery halfway up one of the ancient

walls. Wide stone steps - the steps down which Bep-Wor had

stumbled when he had been thrust into the darkness - led

down from the gallery to the unwholesome floor of the

dungeon.

A voice rang out, and echoed from the vast vaults: „Make

way for his Majesty the King!"

The soldiers stood to attention. In the ensuing silence Bep-

Wor heard the Doctor"s voice saying, „About time, too."

A tall figure appeared in the doorway. The medals on his

chest, the buttons of his uniform, the jewels sewn into his

robe, all glittered in the torchlight. The soldiers saluted. This

was Vethran, the King of this world. Bep-Wor had expected -

he didn"t know what he had expected. Someone more

remarkable, perhaps: a man whose face betrayed an inner

evil. Vethran was tall, imposing, with keen, intelligent eyes

and a full beard. And that was all.

The King gazed down at the prisoners as his entourage

followed him through the doorway and filled the gallery. Most

of them were dressed in finery almost as rich as their

monarch"s. Some held lace-trimmed cloths to their faces.

„This place stinks," the King said at last. He paused to listen

to his words rebounding from the slick stones. „It"s fit only for

vermin," he went on. „And that"s what it contains. Councillor

Traban!"

One of the glittering figures stepped forward. „Your

Majesty?"

„Am I to take it, Traban," the King said, „that this pathetic,

unwashed rabble of Twos is the mighty army that has eluded

your men for almost a week?"

The Councillor hesitated before replying. It was clear to

Bep-Wor that Vethran"s courtiers were in fear of him. „I

believe so, your Majesty. We have succeeded in capturing all

of them, with no losses to our forces." Traban had obviously

decided that it was better to stress the positive aspects of the

situation.

The King grunted, and Traban visibly sighed with relief. „So

be it," the King said. „Although I"m sure it wasn"t necessary to

mobilise half the household guard merely to round up a gang

of escaped Twos."

„Your Majesty"s security is always my prime consideration."

„That"s as it should be," the King said. „It"s true there have

been curious rumours about shadowy forces moving through

the night. However, the problem has been resolved. Stand

down the guard, Councillor, and bring the patrols back to

their barracks."

„Of course, your Majesty."

Bep-Wor found that he could still smile: a grim twist of his

lips. Vethran had decided that with the escaped Twos

recaptured, there was no further danger. Kedin"s

preparations for his attacks could now proceed with less

danger of discovery.

„I should execute the lot of you," the King announced,

addressing the prisoners. „But I"m in a merciful mood. And in

any case, to kill you all would be a waste of valuable Twos.

You will all become obedient servants, and that will be the

end of this short-lived rebellion. I will, however, make one

exception. Which is the one known as the Doctor?"

A young man pushed through the courtiers to stand at the

King"s side. Bep-Wor recognised him: Sarid, the

commissioner"s assistant, whom Bep-Wor had last seen

riding away from the landing site on the day the transport

ship had landed.

„That"s him, your Majesty," Sarid said, pointing down to the

dungeon floor. „At the front, in the strange clothes and hat."

The Doctor began climbing the steps. „Yes, I"m the Doctor,"

he said, „and I have a number of things to discuss with you."

The King appeared amused. „Is that so?" he said. He turned

to Sarid. „I understand this fellow is unaffected by SS10?"

Yes, your Majesty. He claims he took the potion while in

transit, and he certainly took a second dose on the orders of

commissioner Dallid. As you can see, he retains his own will."

„Doctor," the King called out. „Stop there!"

The Doctor continued to walk up the steps.

A look of mild surprise appeared on the King"s face. „It"s

true, then," he said. „Seize him, some of you."

Four soldiers ran down the steps to intercept the Doctor,

and soon he was struggling in their grasp next to the King.

„We must talk," the Doctor was trying to say. „This is

important."

„He"s a noisy little fellow," the King announced. The

courtiers laughed politely. The King addressed the Doctor.

„Be silent," he said, „or I"ll have the guards damage you."

The Doctor"s struggles subsided.

„If you don"t fall under the thrall of SS10," the King said to

the Doctor, „you are worse than valueless. I would turn you

over to my chemists, so that they can analyse you, but

frankly I can"t be bothered to take the trouble. You have

already caused enough inconvenience." He spoke to the

guards around the Doctor. „Hold his head."

The King produced from a pocket in his robe a slender

glass tube. „This is distilled from the venom of bile worms," he

said. „I made it myself. It corrupts the internal organs. Death

is inevitable and very rapid. Let"s see you remain unaffected

by this."

The Doctor was fighting again to be free, but there were

soldiers all around him. Bep-Wor saw hands clamped on to

the Doctor"s head, twisting it and forcing his mouth open. He

saw the King smiling as he tipped the contents of the tube

into the Doctor"s throat.

„Stand aside," the King said. The soldiers cautiously

stepped back from the Doctor.

The Doctor stood alone at the top of the steps. His eyes

were wide with shock. His limbs began to convulse. He gave a

weak cry, and his knees gave way. He fell forward, and

tumbled down the steps.

Bep-Wor watched the Doctor"s body. It lay motionless at

the foot of the steps. The Doctor"s hat was floating on a

stinking puddle next to his head.

Now, Doctor, Bep-Wor silently urged. Now is the time to

rise up. Come on, Doctor. Amaze them. Be alive. Be alive,

Doctor.

The Doctor didn"t move.

„Collect the body," the King said. „I"ll have it put on display.

Have these Twos interrogated, and then dose them with SS10

as necessary. This little crisis is as dead as the Doctor."

There was nowhere left to search. The men from Harran had

torn up floorboards and had even knocked holes in the walls

where they had sounded hollow. Men had climbed into the

roof spaces and down into the drains.

Madok had to face the truth. The men needed to rest. And

if Tevana Roslod had ever been held in Grake Castle, she was

there no longer.

Madok sat at the Castlain"s desk with his head in his

hands. He consulted his pocket-watch. By now Kedin would

be committed to the final assault. And Tevana was still in

Vethran"s hands.

Chapter Five

Above and beyond the vast glass dome that roofed the new

throne room, night had fallen. Inside it was still as bright as

day: glowing bulbs containing electric filaments were strung

along the polygonal frames of the dome"s structure, creating

a filigree tessellation in the heavens, while far below gas

lamps in ornate shapes burnt alongside every avenue and at

the centre of every table.

It was a room as spacious as a park. It contained an

ornamental garden, a dining area, arcades and fountains

and, on a terrace constructed of old stone blocks and

decorated with friezes that depicted Vethran"s conquests, the

throne itself.

Architecturally, Ace thought, it was a right old dog"s dinner.

She thought it odd that she hadn"t noticed before how

grandiose and muddled the whole room was.

„Ace!" the King called to her. „Traban Yonfar needs more

wine. He has reason to celebrate this evening."

Dinner was in full swing. Every table was occupied by

stuffy-looking lords and ladies wearing costumes that must

have weighed a ton. The medals and jewellery were dazzling,

and the noise of conversation and clattering cutlery was

deafening.

„Yes, your Majesty," Ace said, and carried her pitcher of

wine towards the military-looking type with waxed

moustaches.

From waitress to waitress, via a spot of time-travel and

saving a few civilisations, she thought. As she squeezed

between tables she was aware of all the nearby men looking

at her. She was the only woman in the throne room wearing

trousers, and she knew by now that everyone thought she

was indecently dressed. Occasionally she felt a hand grope at

her legs as she passed.

It"s a good job I"ve been told that I"m happy doing this, she

said to herself, because otherwise I think I"d be quite pissed

off.

She poured wine into Traban"s glass. „May I serve you

further, sir?" she asked him.

„I"ll say, you pretty thing," the old buffer exclaimed. „Come

here and sit on my knees, eh?"

Not bloody likely, she thought. I"ll pretend I didn"t hear

that.

„Thank you, sir," she said. She turned and walked away,

ignoring the expostulations behind her.

I can"t believe I just did that, she thought. I should have

obeyed his instructions. I should have sat on his bony old

knees. I would have been happy to do it. I"ve been told I"ll be

happy to obey every instruction I"m given.

What"s happening to me?

„Ace!" It was the King calling her again. „Ace, come here. I

want to show you to the Count of Martolin. I might lend you

to him, I think, for an hour or so."

You"re joking, aren"t you? Ace said to herself. She"d already

identified the Count of Martolin as a grade-A slime-ball.

Smiling, and with a determined stride, Ace made for one of

the stairwells that led down into the service areas. Her wine

pitcher was almost empty, if challenged she would say that

she had been told to refill it.

As she walked steadfastly towards the wine cellars she

blocked out the noise around her and tried to work out what

was happening.

She had been told to do as she was told. She had been told

that she was happy to do as she was told. It was stupid,

circular illogicality. What if she wasn"t happy?

And she wasn"t happy. In fact, how had she ever put up

with them? That greasy fop Tragar, that vicious old witch

Rigora, that wily politician Balon, and that fruitcake of a

King. She remembered some of the things that they had

made her do, and she felt her cheeks burning as she

blushed.

She wasn"t happy. She was angry.

There were Twos and other servants carrying pitchers and

bottles in and out of the entrance to the cellars, but inside

the low, gloomy, bottle-lined corridors Ace was able to find a

place where she could be alone.

In the cool quiet she sat on a barrel, inhaling the musty

aroma of old brandy, and she realised that for the first time

in weeks she was enjoying an experience without having been

told to enjoy it.

The curious thing was that she remembered everything.

She had been herself - wanting things, knowing her own

opinions, doing as she chose - in the TARDIS, and after the

Doctor had left her on the space station. And then she had

ceased to be herself. She had had no thoughts of her own: no

wants or wishes, no emotions other than those she was told

to have. She had done exactly as she had been told, always,

because there had been no alternative.

And now, just as suddenly, she was herself again.

What I should concentrate on, she said to herself, is getting

out of here. And doing as much damage as I can in the

process. This whole set-up stinks. Mister high-and-mighty

Vethran is in charge of a society that uses people from

another world as slaves. This is exactly the sort of nonsense

the Doctor and I should be putting a stop to.

But I can"t help wondering how it was done. How did I

become like that? A mindless slave?

Oh, god. It had to be. There was no other possibility.

That"s the last time I fall for someone because he looks like

a film star, Ace told herself. It was Kedin. All those people in

cargo hold twelve; the ones I travelled with on that gruesome

transport ship. It must be a drug, or something. And Kedin"s

doing it.

As Ace remembered the things she"d said and done on the

space station, she clenched her fists so tightly that her nails

cut into her palms.

„That bastard," she whispered. „I"ll kill him."

Kia-Ga, along with all of Bep-Wor"s people who had taken the

drug on the transport ship, had been taken away. The Doctor

was dead.

Bep-Wor had been left with nothing. Soon he would be

given the potion, and he would live out the rest of his life as a

slave on this alien world.

The dungeon darkness enveloped him like a shroud. All

around him, he knew, were his comrades - the army he and

the Doctor had led from victory to victory, freeing slaves as

they marched from the landing site to the King"s capital. And

yet he felt utterly alone. The damp cold had penetrated into

his heart and soul, and rendered him numb. Even if he had

had a weapon, he knew he lacked the spirit to kill himself.

Nothing. The end. Blackness.

He wondered how long the noises had been going on. Down

here every sound, except for the dripping of water from the

walls, was muffled. He lifted his head. He heard murmurings

from around him: others had begun to notice the occasional,

distant, dull thumps that echoed, more vibration than sound,

in the dark void above them.

He had heard similar noises before. On his home world,

when the invaders had come. Before anyone knew the coming

danger, soft booms like these had been heard from over the

horizon. These were the sounds of explosives.

The attack had begun, then. In the streets above the dank

stillness of the dungeon, men were fighting, firing weapons,

thrusting swords.

Perhaps there was a little hope. But Kia-Ga was gone, and

the Doctor was dead. And with the Doctor had died Bep-

Wor"s gossamer dream that Kia-Ga could be returned to her

former state.

Bep-Wor smiled bitterly. Just enough hope, then, to make

him realise the hopelessness of his situation.

They had found only six camelopes in the stables of Grake

Castle. Having transmitted to Kedin the grim news that

Tevana had not been found, Madok had asked for five

volunteers to accompany him.

He knew that every one of the Harran men was as battle-

weary as he was.

He had told them that to accompany him would be more

taxing than taking the castle had been: they would have to

ride fast, in the dark, on unfamiliar terrain, into a well-

defended city. The mission was suicidal. Every man had

volunteered. Madok had been so moved that he had felt tears

stinging his eyes.

The heavens seemed to Madok to be dispensing good

fortune arbitrarily. After the disappointment of failing to find

Tevana, things were once again going well. The camelopes

were strong, and seemed accustomed to night travel. The

riders made good speed across the wooded hillsides: none of

the steeds tripped or was made lame. They encountered none

of the King"s forces.

Madok called his little troop to a halt as they reached the

final hilltop. From it they looked down on Gonfallon city.

„It looks peaceful," one of the men said.

Madok extended his arm. „Look," he said. „There are fires

burning in the outer quarters. Our covert teams have begun

their work. They will draw the King"s guards out across the

city, dispersing Vethran"s strength."

A vivid burst of light flashed among the distant streets. It

receded, and then flared again as a column of flame and

smoke. A rumble, like thunder, rolled across the panorama.

„Explosive charge," grunted one of the riders.

Madok"s lowered his arm slightly. „One of our motorised

units has reached the West Gate of the inner city," he said.

„They"re equipped with a weapon that we discovered on the

space station. It fires a beam which seems to disrupt matter

in its path. They should be able to take the gate. We"ll try to

enter the city there."

„All"s quiet at the Citadel," another of the riders said.

Madok nudged his heels into the flanks of his camelope,

and began to pick his way down the side of the hill. He kept

his eyes on the vast, ornate structure that dominated the

city: at its centre the dome of the new throne room glowed

with light. „There"s a feast in progress," he said. „The entire

court"s in residence. It looks quiet, but that new dome of

Vethran"s will be shaking, what with the music and the

talking. I doubt if they"ve even heard the explosions. It will be

some time before the city"s garrison commanders can get

word to Vethran that there are attacks in progress."

„No sign yet of Kedin Ashar"s ships," the rider behind Madok

said.

„He"ll be there soon. Vethran"s in for a surprise."

I"ve heard of hiding in plain sight, Ace thought, but this takes

the biscuit.

Balon Ferud had presented Ace to the King only that

morning but, thanks to her infamously indecent costume she

was already recognisable to just about everyone in the

palace. Now she found that because she was so well known

her presence was taken for granted. Carrying her wine

pitcher, and with an expression of docile contentment fixed

on her face, she was able to walk the corridors unchallenged.

Most of the people marching or scurrying along the

passages were Twos or soldiers: they had their own orders to

follow, and barely looked at her as they passed. Otherwise

she saw only a few of the palace servants, or retainers of the

courtiers, or sometimes the courtiers themselves: these

would look at her, certainly, as she was something of a

celebrity. But she was known to be a Two, and the King"s

property, and it was assumed that she was fulfilling an

instruction given by his Majesty. What other explanation

could there be?

Once she realised that no one would molest her, Ace

decided to explore the whole palace. Something was up: the

soldiers who passed her in the corridors were running now,

rather than marching, and they were clutching rifles rather

than the ceremonial swords they usually carried in the

palace. The atmosphere had changed. It crackled almost

audibly with an electric, exciting buzz. In the same way that

one knows one is approaching the coast, even though there is

no sign of the sea, because of the salt and seaweed smells in

the air, Ace knew she was approaching something exciting.

She could smell it. Conflict. Danger. Thrills and spills.

Adrenaline in her veins.

She found a terrace: a stone-built walkway with glassed

arches, like one side of a cloister. The windows, she

assumed, provided views of something worth seeing, when

there was daylight to see by. The terrace was, as far as she

could judge, near the perimeter of the palace buildings, and

it was here that she heard the explosion.

She recognised the sound immediately, and grinned.

That"s more like it, she thought.

She took the risk of dropping her pretence of mindlessness

for a moment, and peered out into the darkness. There were

fires burning in the distance; flashes of light, followed by

deep rumblings; the crackle of gunfire.

It"s an attack, she told herself. Someone"s attacking the

palace. Well, now: any enemy of King Vethran is a friend of

mine, I"d say. I really ought to lend a hand.

A baseball bat worked against Daleks, and gold coins did

for Cybermen. Neither, Ace thought, would be of much help

in the storming of a fortified palace. Ace considered what she

knew about besieging castles, and decided she didn"t know

much. She concluded that, when in doubt, she should arm

herself with some explosives.

And, she thought, casting her mind back to black-and-

white films about Ruritania and men in iron masks, there are

probably dangerous, swashbuckling prisoners who"d be

handy in a punch-up, if released and armed.

Dungeons and ammo stores. Both downstairs, probably.

Bep-Wor woke with a start. He had been dozing, curled on

the floor, dreaming. He had been sitting on the veranda,

watching the crimson sea, with the aroma of frying herbs and

fish floating by him on the warm breeze. From the kitchen

came a voice, calling him. Kia-Ga.

He sobbed with anguish when he remembered where he

was.

He could see the walls. There was light. The door, high up,

at the top of the stairway, was open. Not much light: just the

glimmer of a torch in the corridor beyond the door.

A lone figure stood in the doorway. A boy - no, a young

woman.

„Blimey, what a stench," the woman said. Then she raised

her voice. „Anyone down there?"

Whoever she was, she wasn"t one of the King"s guards.

„Here," Bep-Wor called out.

His voice emerged from his throat as a whispered croak. He

hadn"t spoken for hours. He tried again. „Over here! There are

about a hundred of us."

„Who are you?" the woman shouted.

„We"re from the other world," Bep-Wor shouted back. „The

world called Mendeb Two. We used to be free."

„You"ll not be chums of the King, then," the woman said.

„Good. Well, you"re free again. Something"s going on: an

attack on the palace, I think. War, rebellion, that kind of

thing. Join in, if you want. I"m off to find some dynamite."

„I know something of this attack," Bep-Wor started to say,

but the young woman had gone from the doorway.

But the door remained open.

Bep-Wor stood on trembling legs. „Up!" he exhorted the

prisoners. „Come! Let us leave this pit."

By the dim light he could see the shapes of his comrades

moving sluggishly as they tried to rouse themselves.

„Would the Doctor want us to remain here as slaves?" he

cried. „No! The Doctor would lead us up, and into the light.

For his sake, let us march once more. We may yet die. But

we will die free."

„Doctor! Doctor!" The chant began, quietly at first, and then

with increasing force as the men and women dragged

themselves up from the foetid floor.

Still chanting, they followed Bep-Wor up the steps.

When Madok reached Carracton Square he rode his

camelope straight into the patch of green lawn at its centre.

Here, at least, there was comparative peace. On all sides of

the square, citizens of the city were leaning from their upper

windows, hurling questions and rubbish on to the brawling

soldiers below. As far as Madok could tell none of the soldiers

were Kedin"s men: the fight seemed to be between a troop of

the King"s guards and a contingent of the citizens" militia.

His five men followed him into the tree-ringed haven.

„Dismount," Madok said, „and tether your steeds. We"ll go

on foot from here. We"re too visible riding." He tied the reins

of his camelope to the outstretched hand of the statue of

Count Carracton.

„It"s slow progress either way," one of the Harran men said.

„Half the city"s locked itself indoors. The other half"s out on

the streets and fighting mad."

„And not much sign of the covert units," Madok said.

„Although that"s as it should be. Plenty of evidence of where

they"ve set fires and charges."

„It"s keeping the guards busy just fighting the flames."

„Keep your guns hidden, if you can," Madok said. „Now we"re

on foot we may once again pass as farmers." He stuffed his

handgun into the front of his jerkin. He didn"t feel

comfortable out of uniform, but it would have been folly to

ride into the King"s capital as an identifiable follower of Kedin

Ashar.

„We"ve seen enough of the skirmishing in the suburbs," he

told his men. „The indications are that the main forces have

advanced into the inner city. Everything"s going to plan. We"ll

make for the Citadel gates."

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his rough woollen

trousers, lowered his head, affected a slouch, and set off into

the burning, brawling streets.

He and his men walked as two groups of three, so as to

look less threatening. They were uniformly tall and strong for

farm workers, and they walked with a sense of purpose that

was strange to see in out-of-towners on a late-night spree,

but the citizens and soldiery of Gonfallon city had too many

other concerns to inspect too closely two groups of slightly-

drunken country folk.

They passed a warehouse with flames leaping from its roof.

Furtive figures were running from its broken doors, carrying

away bundles of loot.

They entered a wide avenue, only to find it blocked with a

barricade of merchants" carts. The soldiers behind the

barricade, militia commanded by officers from the King"s

guard, had their weapons aimed and ready to rake the

avenue with bullets. But there was no sign of an enemy for

them to shoot at.

They heard, nearby, the sounds of an intense gun-battle.

They heard, distantly, occasional explosions. The sky was

orange with reflected fire; the air smelt of smoke.

Three guards emerged from an alley to challenge Madok

and the two men beside him. Madok prevaricated, acting

drunk, until the other three came up behind the guards. It

was six against three: the guards fell before they could

summon aid.

They passed the sites of earlier battles: blood running

between the cobbles, the smell of gunpowder, ungainly

bodies in stained uniforms. Madok was relieved to see that

few of the dead were Kedin"s men.

They came upon a crowd in a wide street: the people, quiet

and curious, were surrounding an abandoned machine.

Madok held up his hand to indicate that his men should

remain in the shadows; he staggered across the street and

pushed his way into the crowd.

„Never seen anything like it," a woman said. It"s unnatural."

„The self-propelled vehicle is modern, that"s a fact," a man

said, „but as for the device on top of it..."

„Could it be a bomb?" someone else said, and the crowd

drew back as one.

Madok recognised the machine at once. It was one of the

weapons taken from the space station, mounted on one of

the latest self-propelled vehicles. It was the disrupter that

had shattered the gate of the inner city and allowed in

Kedin"s main force, led by Lafed. It was destroyed: its funnel-

shaped barrel was broken, its casing pierced with bullet-

holes.

„That"s bad," Madok muttered to his men when he rejoined

them. „Lafed will find it hard going at the Citadel gates

without the disrupter."

„We"re almost there," one of the men pointed out. „I can hear

the fighting."

They rounded two more corners, and it became obvious

that a fierce battle was in progress nearby. Two cargo

vehicles, parked sideways, blocked the street ahead of them.

The rattle of guns and the whine of bullets were continuous.

Any slight hiatus was filled with the shouting of orders and

the cries of wounded men. Shadows danced against the lurid

colours of the flames that coated the tall buildings.

„Stop!" a voice shouted from behind the vehicles. „No further

or we"ll shoot."

These were Lafed"s men: the rearguard, defending his

position against attack from behind. And to judge from the

few troops guarding the rear, Madok concluded that Lafed

had found it necessary to commit virtually all his forces

forward.

Madok held up his hands. „I"m Madok," he said. „Aide to

Kedin Ashar."

There was a silence. Madok imagined the whispered

discussion between the sentries. „Advance," a voice said.

Gesturing to his men to stay back, Madok walked towards

the vehicles. He hoped that the sentries - no doubt the least

experienced of Lafed"s troops - had steady trigger fingers.

„It is Madok," a voice rang out. „I saw him once. It"s him."

Madok ran forward and squeezed through the gap between

the vehicles. He was appalled to find only three men, and

youngsters at that, on duty.

„Those are my men," he said, jerking his thumb over his

shoulder. „Let them pass. We"ve ridden here from Grake – we

took the castle earlier this evening. My men are exhausted.

I"ll leave them here with you. It looks as though you could do

with reinforcements. Where"s Lafed?"

„At the front, sir." The lad pointed up the street, although it

was obvious where the battle was taking place. The twin

towers of the Citadel gateway loomed above the tall mansions

that lined the street; in front of the wedge-shaped bases of

the towers, each as large as the prow of an ocean-going ship,

a ribbon of men and machines sheltered behind a makeshift

barrier of vehicles, fallen statues, and the bodies of the dead.

Bullets and grenades rained down from the towers;

intermittently, rockets and bullets were fired from the ground

towards the battlements.

Madok didn"t like the look of it at all. Lafed"s force had been

pinned down in front of the gates, and without the disrupter

there seemed no prospect of breaking through.

Crouching, and keeping under the eaves of the houses,

Madok ran towards the cacophony of the battle. He found

Lafed directing his troops" fire from behind the low garden

wall of the last house.

„Madok! What in heaven"s name are you doing here?"

Lafed"s face was black with smoke. His eyes were bloodshot.

„Couldn"t bear to miss the fun," he said, attempting to be

lighthearted. „This doesn"t look too good."

„It isn"t." Lafed shook his head. „We can"t get through here.

I"ve sent a radio message to Kedin"s assault group. I"m

waiting for the signal to withdraw and regroup."

A bullet struck the parapet of the wall, and splinters of

stone exploded. Madok and Lafed ducked their heads.

Madok"s ears were ringing; he felt a trickle of blood down his

cheek.

„You won"t get it," he said. „Tevana Roslod wasn"t being held

at Grake. She must be in the palace."

Madok watched Lafed"s face as he absorbed the news and

understood its meaning. „Yes," Madok said. „Kedin will have to

go in. He won"t leave Tevana here."

Lafed"s eyes were wide. „His group will be cut to pieces if

they go in without support."

„And so we have to keep trying," Madok said. „If we can"t get

into the palace, at least we"ll keep some of the guards busy."

„Until we"re all dead," Lafed said. Suddenly he grinned.

„Right then. Let"s see how long we can keep fighting."

Ace studied the base of her pitcher. It wasn"t so much as

cracked. She looked down at the unconscious guard whose

head she had just struck. Crockery that was harder than a

soldier"s head - she was impressed.

She dragged the guard away from the door he had been

standing beside, round a corner and into the shadows below

a flight of stairs. She frisked the still body. The guard had a

sword, but no gun: that was no good, a sword was too

noticeable. No keys, either.

Ace poked her head round the corner. The corridor was still

empty. She hadn"t yet found a weapons store, and despite the

reassuring solidity of the wine pitcher she was getting

desperate for something with some real firepower. She was

about to set off along the corridor, when the door whose

sentry she had just knocked out seemed to draw her

attention.

She tiptoed towards it, pressed her ear to the solid wood,

and listened. She could hear nothing. She knocked.

„Yes?" said a female voice. „Enter, by all means, if you have

a key."

A woman prisoner. And with a dedicated guard, too. Ace"s

curiosity was piqued. „Who"s in there?" she said, as loudly as

she dared.

There was a long silence. When the woman spoke again, it

was clear to Ace that she had moved close to the door. „I am

Tevana Roslod," the woman said. Her voice sounded calm and

amused. „I"m surprised you didn"t know. And who are you?"

Tevana. Ace thought she recognised the name, but she

couldn"t remember from where or when.

„My name"s Ace."

„Is that all?"

„Yes."

There was another pause. „You have me at a disadvantage,

Ace," Tevana said. „I regret that I"ve not heard of you. You

should go. I"m not supposed to receive visitors, other than

Vethran and my guards."

„The palace is being attacked," Ace said.

„I know," Tevana said. „I"ve heard the explosions." She

seemed not at all surprised.

Ace was becoming exasperated. „Well, do you want me to

try to get you out of there?"

Tevana laughed. „I"ll be quite safe," she said. „I"m very

valuable to the King. But you sound young, my dear. You

should look to your own safety, and go."

Ace stared at the door. Evidently the woman locked behind

it was important. She didn"t know what she should do.

The sound of marching feet echoed along the corridor.

„Someone"s coming," Ace said. „Sounds like guards."

„Don"t worry yourself," the gentle voice said. „I"m in no

danger. Now go."

Ace struck her forehead with her hands. The sound of

marching feet was becoming louder. Ace realised that she

would have to conceal herself. „Goodbye," she said, and ran to

the corner.

She pressed her back against the wall. Just in time: the

footsteps were in the corridor now. At least two guards. If

only she"d been able to find some weapons. The wine pitcher

wouldn"t be much use in a frontal assault on two or more

armed soldiers.

„Where"s the sentry?" one of the guards said.

„Don"t know, sir," another replied.

„Called away, perhaps. No matter. Unlock the door."

Ace heard the rattle of keys. She turned, and risked a

glance along the corridor.

There were four of them, armed to the teeth. No hope of

jumping them. One of them was carrying a tray, on which

Ace could see a plate of food and a goblet.

It was just a mealtime visit. Nothing to worry about. The

woman named Tevana would be safe for a while, at least.

Ace determined to continue her search for weapons. Maybe

she"d be able to come back and release the woman later.

Bep-Wor had quickly given up his attempts to persuade his

people to move stealthily. Their cry of „Doctor! Doctor!" echoed

along the corridors, preceding the miasma of dungeon odour

that wafted around them. They streamed and surged into

rooms and up stairways. With unkempt hair, wild eyes, and

damp, flapping rags as clothes, they seemed to strike fear

into whoever they met. Servants and courtiers ran; any

soldiers who tried to hold back the human flood were

overwhelmed, their weapons plucked from their hands.

As they poured through the innards of the palace their

numbers grew: every Two they found they instructed to join

them. Bep-Wor"s army was reconstituted, and was once again

on the march.

He found Kia-Ga in the kitchens. As his people swarmed

alongside him, he stood still in the waves of heat emanating

from the long iron ovens. He held Kia-Ga"s face in his hands,

and stared into her eyes. He could not be sure that she even

recognised him.

He realised that there had been no point in finding her. He

could hold her in his hands: she was warm, alive. But she

had gone forever.

„Follow me," he told her. „Obey no more orders from anyone

other than me."

„Yes, sir," she replied.

He sobbed, and wiped tears from his eyes.

„Don"t call me sir," he said. Call me Bep-Wor."

„Yes, Bep-Wor."

The kitchen had emptied as suddenly as it had become

crowded. His army had sped on and he, its leader, risked

being left behind.

Onwards. Upwards, into the light. There was nothing left

but vengeance.

„Come on, Kia-Ga," he said. „We must hurry. Run!"

„Yes, Bep-Wor."

The pitcher was now very heavy. It contained ten cylinders

that, in Ace"s opinion, were sticks of explosive. They had red

warning signs stuck on them, and fuses made of something

that looked inflammable.

There was, Ace thought, only one way to find out just how

much of a bang they"d make, and she had therefore lifted

from the weapons room, along with the cylinders, two books

of matches.

She also now had a gun in the inside pocket of her jacket.

She had emerged from the subterranean passages below

the palace: she was making for where the noise of battle was

loudest.

As she walked through a low doorway, she found herself in

the open air. She was in a narrow, curved courtyard, with

high walls on both sides. In the crescent of night sky above

her there were stars, obscured by drifting smoke. The noise -

gunfire and shouting - was much louder, and came from the

far end of the courtyard.

She hefted the pitcher on to her shoulder and set off across

the flagstones. She could see, at the top of the wall to her left,

men running along the battlements and crouching to shoot

through the crenellations.

As the courtyard curved round to Ace"s right it widened,

and she saw that it opened on to a wide plaza. In normal

times it would be a pleasant open space, she thought. She

saw avenues lined with what appeared to be lamp-posts,

topiary shrubs in huge containers, banners flying from

flagpoles. Now it was full of carts and vehicles, with lines of

soldiers carrying boxes to and fro, and officers shouting to be

heard above the noise of the gunfire.

Ace retreated into the shadows and watched for a moment.

This is where it"s all happening, she said to herself. The

King"s men on this side and, on the other side of this wall to

my left, the other lot trying to get into the palace. And

although I"ve been lucky so far, I think I"d be rumbled if I

tried to carry off my serving-wench impersonation in the

middle of a firelight - so I can"t get any closer to the action.

It was tempting to stay where she was and lob lighted

sticks of explosive towards the carts and trucks. They"d burn

well, and if they contained ammunition they might make

some truly awesome explosions.

But the vehicles were surrounded by soldiers. She couldn"t

do it.

She retraced her steps into the narrow, curved space

between the high walls. She looked up. Here the battlements

were deserted, as the soldiers were concentrating their fire

further along, opposite the plaza. And here, she realised as

she felt along the wall, there was a doorway. And the door

was unlocked.

She slipped inside, into a dark passage that ran along the

base of the wall. When her eyes were accustomed to the

gloom she began to look for places where explosive charges

would do the most damage to the fabric of the structure.

The sounds of the battle hardly penetrated into the

passageway, buried in the thickness of the wall. Ace worked

patiently, knitting together the fuses. She hadn"t been able to

resist packing all ten of the cylinders together: if you"re going

to make a bang, she reasoned, make it a big one.

She struck a match, put it to the end of the fuse, and

watched for a few seconds to make sure it burnt well.

She grinned in the darkness. Best not hang about, she told

herself. Back to the throne room, I think. That"ll be the best

place to watch the action.

Lafed"s troops were becoming a motley crew. Madok might

have laughed had the situation been less serious. In addition

to Madok and the five men from Harran, who were dressed as

farmers, there were now clowns, acrobats, robed mystics and

black-suited mourners fighting alongside the surviving

uniformed men from Lafed"s original force: three of the covert

teams had emerged from the city, drawn by the sound of the

battle.

„It makes no difference, Madok," Lafed shouted. „We"re still

stuck here. Pinned down."

The wall behind which they were sheltering consisted now

of only a few courses of bricks, and these were being shot

away. Madok and Lafed were lying on their stomachs, and

Madok knew that within minutes they would have to crawl

back to a less exposed position.

„Great heavens!" Lafed exclaimed. „What was that?"

The ground beneath them had moved. It had leapt up and

struck Madok"s chest, winding him. It was still shuddering.

He became aware of a rumbling that seemed to come from

below the ground. It was so profound that he felt rather than

heard it. The gunfire petered out. The rumbling, too, faded,

but only to be replaced by another sound: a wrenching,

cracking noise, as of a thick branch being slowly broken -

but much, much louder.

„Ammunition dump gone up," Madok choked out. „Must be.

Big explosion."

„The wall, Madok," Lafed said. He was pointing away to the

right of the twin-towered gateway. „Look at the wall."

A section of the stone-block wall appeared to be quivering.

Smoke billowed from cracks that widened and raced across

the surface even as Madok watched. Cries of alarm could be

heard from within the gates.

And then the blocks began to fall. The battlements toppled,

and slid down the cracked face of the wall, smashing the

cobbled streets where they fell. The structure began to lean

outwards. The topmost blocks of stone curved gracefully

away and seemed to hang unsupported in the air before

plummeting to the street.

„Pull your men back now," Madok urged Lafed, „while the

King"s men are still wondering what"s going on. And then

form them up. The wall"s breached, and we"ll force our way

in."

It was dirty, frenzied, hand-to-hand scrapping. Madok and

Lafed were at the front of the squad that ran in first, before

the stones had stopped falling. Madok yelled at the top of his

voice, because the smoke and dust, as thick as autumn fog,

blinded everyone. He charged up the jagged hillock of fallen

blocks and hoped his men were behind him. To his right he

heard Lafed"s voice. In front of him, flashes of light and

sudden shocks penetrated through the dust: the two reserve

squads were throwing grenades through the breach in the

wall to deter the defenders.

Madok did not expect to be fired upon from within the

palace. The guard commander would know that he had to

keep out the attackers, and therefore he couldn"t afford to

have his men stand back from the wall and try to pick off the

attackers as they came through the breach. Sure enough,

Madok"s charge was opposed by guards wielding swords.

They appeared suddenly out of the mist, scrambling up the

other side of the fallen wall, trying to take the peak before the

attackers could reach it.

Madok had time to fire two shots, and then he drew his

knife and it was steel against steel. He could barely see the

man in front of him, but he could hear all around the

clanging of swords, and cries and grunts.

He won the crest of the jumbled hillock of stone blocks. On

both sides he heard his own men pressing forwards. He spat

to clear the dust from his throat. Fortune was playing tricks

with Kedin"s cause, he reflected. To be held at bay at the

palace gates, until failure seemed certain, and then for the

wall to be blown down by some unknown agency - it was

beyond belief.

Now they could succeed. Vethran would be overthrown,

Tevana would be reunited with Kedin. Why, Madok himself

might even find Ace, eventually.

He sheathed his knife, readied his gun, and strode forward

into the palace.

Ace smiled as she ran. She was deep inside the palace again,

but even here she felt the floor shudder beneath her feet.

There was almost nothing she liked better than a good, big

explosion, and it was particularly satisfying when she caused

one herself.

Soldiers appeared in a doorway ahead of her. She slowed to

a walk, and balanced the pitcher on her shoulder. Frankly

she had the impression that she wouldn"t get arrested now

even if she started shouting and breaking the furniture:

everyone she came across was running and looking very

preoccupied. But there was no point in taking unnecessary

risks.

She turned to her right at the next junction, in order to

avoid meeting the soldiers, and found herself walking down a

set of stairs. She was in a part of the palace she hadn"t yet

explored.

At the bottom of the stairs was a door. It was locked, and

bore a sign which said PRIVATE. It was the first such sign

Ace had seen in the palace.

„Well intriguing," she said, and kicked open the door.

There was nothing of interest beyond the door: just a long,

narrow, dark corridor. But Ace could hear the booted feet of

the soldiers approaching the top of the stairs, so she took the

key that was in the corridor side of the lock and set off at a

jog along the passage.

As she ran she tried to estimate the length of the corridor.

It seemed to go on for ever. It had taken her below ground

level, far from the front wing of the palace, where she had

gone down the steps. She reckoned that she was once again

close to the dungeons.

At last she reached the end of the corridor. Another locked

door. She opened it with the key. She entered a small

chamber, lit by gas lamps on the walls. A narrow staircase

wound upwards. In front of her was another door marked

PRIVATE. It also said KEEP OUT.

Or in other words, Ace thought, INTERESTING STUFF IN

HERE.

The door wasn"t locked.

Truly, wickedly interesting stuff, Ace thought, as she

surveyed the laboratory that she found she had walked into.

Around the walls were cabinets full of glass jars containing

powders and specimens of plants. Sprawling across two wide

benches were labyrinths of tubes and flasks that reminded

Ace of old horror movies. She recognised some of it as

distillation equipment.

What"s this lot for, then? she asked herself. What are the

King"s scientists cooking up down here?

She found the answer on a desk at one end of the room.

She put down her pitcher and studied the row of exhibits,

which were conveniently labelled as if in a museum.

At one end of the row was a nondescript plant which,

according to its label, was called spore or spore-weed. Ace

didn"t recognise it, and she wondered whether it was a

species indigenous to Mendeb Three.

Next came a little dish of the plant"s seeds, and then a dish

of the seeds ground to a powder, and then a flask containing

spore-seed powder in a solution. Next to this was a smaller

flask containing a clearer fluid: spore-seed distillate.

Finally there was a row of ten stoppered test tubes, each

containing a fluid of a slightly different colour. The first was

labelled SSI, and the last SS10.

„What are you doing in here?" a voice said, suddenly.

„Return to your duties at once."

Ace turned. A man with a deeply-lined face, spectacles and

a white coat was standing in the doorway. He approached

Ace cautiously.

„You"re his Majesty"s new Two," the scientist said. „You

shouldn"t be here."

Was there any chance at all, Ace wondered, that this bloke

would be fooled by her dumb waitress act? No harm in

trying, she supposed.

She kept her face blank and her voice expressionless. „His

Majesty sent me here," she said. „The guards who came with

me were called away. His Majesty said I would be interested

to see the work you are doing here."

The scientist appeared sceptical. „Do you have any

knowledge of the science of chemistry?"

„Yes, sir," Ace said. „I almost got an O-level."

„I see." The scientist seemed impressed. „So you understand

the procedure for which this equipment has been designed?"

„Yes, sir. It"s for distillation."

„Quite right," the scientist said. „But there"s more to it than

that. The seeds of the spore-weed plant, in their natural

state, work on humans as a mild narcotic. Our ancestors

discovered that smoking the powdered seeds in a mixture of

dried leaves produced feelings of relaxation and well-being."

„Yes, sir," Ace said. She wanted to keep him talking. She

had a premonition that he was going to reveal something

dark and terrible.

The scientist warmed to his theme. It seemed he rarely had

a captive audience for his lectures. „But we have found that

the seeds of this plant are very adaptable. The distillation of

the essence, the application of different levels of heat, the

addition of various chemicals - by these means we have been

able to produce a range of complex compounds, each with its

own unique effect on the human physiology."

Hurry it up, Ace thought. There"s a big fight going on

upstairs, and I want to be there at the finish.

„And here are samples of the ten compounds," the scientist

said, moving to stand in front of the desk. Ace stepped back

as he waved his arms to indicate the row of test tubes. „Our

crowning achievement, of course, is SS10. That"s the

compound that you were given when you were processed,

before being brought to this planet to serve us. Its effect, as

you know, is to remove the subject"s volition, without

affecting intelligence or memory. It makes remarkably good

servants, and its effects are permanent."

That"s what you think, Ace silently told him. „And you

invented this stuff, did you?" she said.

„Oh yes," the scientist said proudly reaching for the tube of

SS10. His hand stopped: he had realised that Ace had

spoken without being told to. „Perhaps you"d like to try some

more of it?"

„Born yesterday, was I?" Ace said, and clocked him on the

back of his head with the butt of her gun.

He fell to the floor. Ace resisted the urge to give him a good

kicking. No time for that: she wanted to get back to the

fighting.

„Great heavens, what are those?" Lafed"s hand pointed to the

row of posts that lined the wide path that led across the plaza

from the gatehouse.

Madok turned. „Disgusting, isn"t it? Vethran calls it

Traitor"s Way: the bodies of the poor wretches he executes

are strung up in those cages. I imagine the display is

intended as a deterrent."

Lafed swore. „It"s reassuring to be reminded we"ve right on

our side," he said. „Have your men cleared the buildings on

the far side?"

Madok nodded. „Vethran"s guards have pulled back into the

central wing of the palace," he said. „I doubt we"ll meet much

resistance until we reach the throne room. Is the gatehouse

secure?"

Lafed looked up at the twin towers. „There wasn"t much

structural damage," he said. „We"ve patched it up as well as

we can."

„In that case," Madok said, „I"ll borrow your radio set, if I

may. I"ll tell all units to come through here. And I"ll give

Kedin the signal to come in now. You know, Lafed, for the

first time I really believe we"re going to do this. In an hour or

less we"ll have no king."

„And then what?" Lafed said. „There"s much to be set right."

„More hard work, eh, Lafed? It never stops." Madok cast his

gaze round the perimeter of the plaza, stopping when it

reached the gaping breach in the outer wall. „I wonder what

caused that explosion," he said. „I suppose we"ll never know."

He turned, entered the gatehouse, and made his way up

the spiral stairway. Lafed"s radio set had been installed in the

topmost garret. Madok had good news for Kedin Ashar.

The throne room was eerily quiet. Polygonal ribbons of light

still hung against the night sky; lamps still burned along the

walkways and on the tables. But the diners had gone, and

had left their meals half-eaten and their wine glasses

undrained. Chairs lay where they had been pushed over.

The servants and the Twos, who had a short time ago

outnumbered the noble guests, and who had scurried back

and forth across the concourse bearing plates of food, silver

cutlery, pitchers of wine, napkins, were also all gone.

Except one. With a studied air of detachment, and still

carrying her pitcher, Ace made her way up the steps of the

Grand Terrace and towards the throne.

Outside the dome, and seemingly in another world, there

were occasional sounds of battle: a gunshot, an exchange of

fire, a shout. All around the perimeter of the dome, facing

outwards, crouching behind the bases of statues and behind

stone paling, there were guardsmen, silently waiting for the

inevitable assault.

Still, Ace said to herself, old Vethran doesn"t look that

bothered.

The King was lounging in his throne, listening to the

animated conversation of his Councillors. One of the dining

tables had been dragged up to the terrace, and was now set

in front of the throne, covered in charts and papers and

surrounded by nervous aristocrats. Ace recognised among

them the stocky figure of Balon Ferud.

„Your Majesty," one of them was saying, „I spoke only

moments ago to the technician who operates the Citadel"s

radio set. He has received messages from the Duke of

Jerrissar. And the Duke knows nothing of the attacks on the

palace."

Vethran laughed. „He says he knows nothing." He leant

forward and struck the councillor on the head. „You"re an

idiot, Chalon. He"s close. He"s here. I can almost smell him.

Go and fetch Tevana Roslod. Bring her to me."

The councillor hurried away. Vethran looked round and

saw Ace.

„Ace. You"ve returned. Where have you been?"

„Been busy, your Majesty," Ace said. „Things to do."

The King gazed at her, letting his eyes linger as they

scanned her body. „Come here," he said. „Stand beside me.

You can be my lucky mascot in the coming struggle."

„Yes, your Majesty," Ace said. I"ll lucky mascot you, she

thought, you lecherous git.

She had to grit her teeth to prevent herself shuddering as

he touched her. But he seemed lost in thought, and simply

caressed the material of the sleeve of her jacket.

The Councillors continued to gabble to each other. As far

as Ace could tell they were merely reiterating, over and over

again, the positions and likely movements of the opposing

forces. A soldier ran towards the terrace and up the steps to

the throne. He knelt in front of the King, then stood and

saluted to one of the Councillors.

„We"ve had a message from the last of the far riders, sir," he

reported. „The Norbalt regiment has been alerted and is

marching south with all speed. That means all but one of the

riders got through, sir."

The Councillor turned to the King. „All but one of the far

riders have delivered your orders, your Majesty," he said. „The

Norbalt regiment will be here by tomorrow night."

„I know," the King said. „I heard this trooper say so. Do you

think I"m deaf?"

„Of course not, your Majesty. I apologise. But the news is

good. The Norbalt men alone could deal with these

insurgents. And there are five other regiments, and three

motorised units, all making their way here as fast as is

possible."

Vethran shook his head. „And they will all be a day too

late," he said. „This business will be settled within the hour.

Ah! But look! My beloved approaches."

Ace tried to look sideways without turning her head. The

Councillor named Chalon was walking up one of the

staircases, and behind him were two soldiers and a tall,

slender woman with a mass of golden, curly hair. In principle

Ace held the view that blondes look dumb, but she couldn"t

help feeling a pang of envy. The woman was a real looker, Ace

decided: not merely beautiful, but poised and elegant with it.

This, then, was Tevana Roslod: the woman prisoner with

whom Ace had held a whispered conversation through a

locked door.

Ace had thought at the time that she sounded like a cool

customer. As she glided along the terrace towards the throne

she looked completely calm.

„Tevana and I are to be married," the King said. There were

stifled exclamations of surprise from the Councillors. „Isn"t

that so, Tevana, my love?"

„Yes, Vethran," Tevana said with a smile.

„Sit by me, my angel," the King said, and Tevana took his

proffered hand and arranged herself on the ornate seat next

to the throne.

Another soldier ran up the steps. He knelt before the

throne. „Strategic report, your Majesty," he gasped.

„Stop!" The King held up his hand. „Let me guess. There are

still incidents occurring across the city which require the

presence of my guards, but the perpetrators of the incidents

have yet to be apprehended. The gates of the inner city are

still broken open. The west gate of the Citadel is still in the

hands of the attackers, who are still moving through the

palace and converging here. There is still no clear

identification of the attackers, although a suspiciously large

number of them have been recognised as coming from the

estates of the Duke of Jerrissar. And where is the Duke

himself? No one has any idea."

The soldier bowed his head. „Yes, your Majesty," he said.

„I know where the Duke of Jerrissar is," the King said.

The Councillors gasped, looked towards the King, and then

followed his gaze, which was fixed on the apex of the dome.

Ace, too, contrived to look up. The Duke of Jerrissar sounded

like he was a tough operator, and Ace wanted to see him.

There was something above the dome: something large,

darker than the night, hovering just outside the tracery of

illuminated metal frames.

All the glass panes in the top of the dome shattered at

once. The noise was deafening. Shards fell like rain on to the

abandoned tables and chairs. A cold wind howled through

the gaping holes in the dome. „Protect me!" the King barked.

The Councillors gathered around the throne.

A voice, loud, harsh and distorted by electronic

amplification, issued from above. „Surrender, Vethran. You"re

surrounded."

The voice sounded familiar to Ace, but she couldn"t place it.

There was a moment of silence, and then from all around

the dome there came the rattle of gunfire, followed by a long

tinkling of falling glass. The guards at the perimeter threw

themselves to the floor as the windows around the base of

the dome blew inwards. Ace could see figures moving outside

the dome: the attackers had entered the palace and had

reached the throne room. She congratulated herself on a

well-placed explosive charge.

„Stay close to me," the King hissed to his Councillors. He

pulled a long knife from the jewelled scabbard at his side. „I"ll

skewer the first man who moves. And don"t whine: you"ll be

safe. He won"t shoot down unarmed men from his own class."

„Well, Vethran?" the amplified voice said.

„No surrender," the King shouted from the midst of his

huddled courtiers. You"ll have to fight your way in."

The prone guards at the perimeter of the dome started to

fire their guns through the shattered windows into the

darkness outside. Ace heard, coming from below, the sound

of many running feet.

The King, too, had heard the noise. „At last," he cried.

„Reinforcements. My guards are gathering. I can still crush

this rebellion."

Endless corridors, numberless rooms. Bep-Wor"s mind felt as

numb as his pounding feet. He had no idea how many were

behind him as he raced through the maze: hundreds,

certainly. Bep-Wor had never been inside a building as large

as this palace. It seemed as wide as a town. Towers projected

upwards; layers of cellars and dungeons lay below. It was a

place without sides, without a top or a bottom. It went on for

ever.

He was leading his army only in the sense that he was at

its front. Chanting and baying, it pushed him onwards. It

moved forwards in spasms, stopping in a courtyard or in a

suite of rooms, wherever there were people to be freed or

guns to be captured, and then rushing on again through the

never-ending corridors, up and down the infinite stairs.

Having somehow returned to the subterranean levels, they

were now running upwards again. There was light ahead,

and Bep-Wor hoped, as he had hoped many times already,

that light might reveal to them a way out of the palace.

An incredible noise, like the sound of a ship grounding on

rocks followed by the shattering of a thousand plates,

rebounded down the stairs and rolled over the heads of the

army. Bep-Wor"s people stopped chanting. They stopped

advancing. Then, when there was no more sound, Bep-Wor

led them forwards again, up the wide stairway.

He heard the sound of gunfire before he reached the

topmost step, but there was no way to turn his people back:

the stairs were crowded with men and women pressing

forwards. The swollen army now consisted mainly of people

who were under the influence of the dreadful potion, and

those still in possession of their own minds were

outnumbered. It was more a herd than an army.

Bep-Wor shouted for joy as he emerged into daylight, and

outdoors. Then, as he began to understand what he was

seeing, he realised that he was still in the palace and the

light was artificial. He was in a room as big as the widest

field, its roof a glittering, tattered web set impossibly high in

the night sky. All around him his followers were emerging

from the stairway and gazing up in awe at the distant,

shining, broken dome above them.

But this was no place to stand and gawp. Bep-Wor tried to

orient himself. There, covered in the shining fragments that

had fallen from the damaged roof, was an area for taking

meals; there, a garden, with trees and walkways; there, all

around the edge of the entire space, were soldiers shooting

their guns at unseen enemies outside the dome. And there,

on a raised terrace, surrounded by a scrum of richly-dressed

men, sat the King. In the chair beside his throne sat a tall,

handsome woman, very pale of complexion and hair. And

standing next to the throne, holding a jug, stood the young

woman who had released him and his people from the

dungeon.

The King and his fellows seemed as surprised to see Bep-

Wor"s ragged, filthy army as Bep-Wor was to find himself in

the King"s throne room.

Bep-Wor had no idea what was going on. He tried to make

sense of it. This was the King"s place: it contained his throne,

and he was with richly-dressed men who had to be his

advisers. Therefore the soldiers shooting out through the

broken windows were defending the King from outside

attackers. And Bep-Wor assumed that the attackers must be

lighting the cause of Kedin Ashar, the languid, clever man

whom he and the Doctor had met just before they were

captured.

From there the logic was indisputable: the King wanted to

enslave the inhabitants of Bep-Wor"s world; Kedin Ashar was

opposed to the King; therefore Bep-Wor would join with

Kedin Ashar.

“There is your enemy," he shouted, turning in a circle to

indicate the soldiers around the edge of the dome. „Take their

weapons!"

The battle lasted only a few minutes. Caught between the

incoming bullets of the attackers outside the dome, and the

furious and unexpected onslaught of Bep-Wor"s army from

inside it, the King"s guards could not even flee. They threw

down their guns.

And then a loud, distorted voice bellowed from the skies.

„Well done, Bep-Wor. Magnificent. I can"t possibly thank

you enough. I"m forever in your debt."

Bep-Wor looked up. There was something above the broken

roof of the dome. Presumably some sort of flying machine.

The voice, in any case, was Kedin Ashar"s.

When the prisoners from the dungeon came surging up the

stairway Ace had to bite her lip to stop herself shouting with

excitement. They had destroyed the King"s hope of a last-

minute reprieve, and had overwhelmed his final line of

defence. The whole room was swarming with soldiers and

prisoners, and buzzing with noise.

The prisoners were bellowing a victory chant: a name,

shouted over and over again. And then Ace recognised the

word, and had to suppress a laugh. They were shouting for

the Doctor. She might have guessed he"d be involved. But she

couldn"t see him anywhere.

It was almost impossible to remain still and impassive,

particularly as she wanted to look for the Doctor, but she

forced herself to remain where she was: standing beside the

throne, with her wine pitcher in her hand, pretending to be a

mindless serving-girl. No one paid her any attention, and she

had an excellent view of the whole of the throne room.

And still there were things to watch. The attackers were

entering the throne room, clambering through the broken

windows all round the edge of the dome. Ace saw that they

had had to fight hard to reach their goal: every man"s face

was black with smoke, and many wore makeshift and

bloodied bandages. The most remarkable thing about them,

however, was their clothing: while some were in uniform,

others were dressed in various civilian outfits, and a few were

wearing outlandish costumes that were more appropriate for

performing in pantomime than for warfare. They mingled

with the defeated King"s guards and the prisoners from the

dungeon, filling the floor of the throne room with a milling,

variegated crowd.

Ace saw someone she recognised.

It was the way he moved that she noticed first. Everyone

else in the crowd was moving without purpose: the King"s

guards, their shoulders slumped, were huddled in groups;

the prisoners were talking excitedly among themselves; the

newly-arrived soldiers were relaxing, sitting on benches and

chairs, but keeping wary eyes and ready guns on the guards

and the prisoners.

One figure - burly, tall, erect - was pushing through the

throng, making for the stairs that led up the gallery and the

throne. It was Madok.

What was he doing here? The last time Ace had seen him

had been on the space station. He"d been back-up man for

that despicable creep Kedin. He must have taken part in the

attack on the palace. Perhaps he wasn"t all bad, then.

He looked up and caught her staring at him. She looked

away quickly. I don"t want anything to do with you, she

thought; leave me alone. She fixed her gaze on the shattered

roof.

Soldiers were dropping through the broken polygonal panes

of the dome. Hanging on ropes, they came sliding from the

roof towards the floor. Their uniforms were immaculate; their

guns were pointing at the throne. More and more of them

appeared: the sky was raining soldiers.

Through the hole at the apex of the dome descended a

platform, hanging from four ropes. Standing nonchalantly on

the platform was Kedin Ashar.

Ace"s stomach clenched. She felt sick. There were quite a

few people, in several planetary systems, that she hoped

never to see again, but this particular long streak of

aristocratic slime was right at the top of her hate list. He"d

seduced her, lied to her, and pumped her full of a drug that

had turned her into a slave. She stared straight ahead, and

hoped that her face didn"t betray her loathing and disgust.

„Kedin!" It was Madok"s voice, calling up to his leader. „Is

that you, Madok?" The platform stopped in mid-air, so that

Kedin was suspended above the centre of the throne room,

on the same level as the throne. Ace tried to avoid his

searching gaze. Kedin grabbed one of the supporting ropes

and leant carelessly over the side of the platform. „Madok, old

friend, we"ve done it. There"s just one final detail."

Kedin straightened, and waved his arm to indicate the host

of his soldiers filling the hemispherical space of the dome.

„Vethran!" he shouted. „I"ve captured your palace, I"ve

disarmed your guards, and there are a hundred rifles trained

on you. You"ve been King long enough, Vethran. I think it"s

time for you to abdicate."

„Out of my way," the King yelled. Ace staggered as the

King"s Councillors scattered to right and left along the

gallery. She felt suddenly very exposed: all eyes in the throne

room, and most of the guns, were trained on Vethran,

leaning forward in the throne. On one side of him sat Tevana

Roslod, still looking unperturbed; on the other stood Ace.

„Think again, Kedin," the King said. „As you see, I have

Tevana with me. And I have a knife."

He lunged towards Tevana, and the blade of his knife was

at her throat.

„Tell your men to lower their guns," the King said. Kedin

shrugged. „I have no intention of killing you, Vethran," he

said. „I won"t descend to your level." He leant forward to look

down to the floor. „At ease, everybody," he shouted. „Put your

firearms up, for the time being." The dome echoed to the

sound of rifles being shouldered. Ace remembered where and

when she had heard Tevana"s name before. Kedin had said it.

Tevana, he had said, was his goddess. Ace felt her face

redden. Perhaps she had been too hasty in judging Kedin. All

right, he was still a lying toerag, but he had taken the trouble

to overthrow Vethran, who was even more despicable then

Kedin himself. Ace reminded herself that she had already

discovered that it was Vethran, not Kedin, who had invented

the stuff called SS10. And she realised that if Tevana had

been in Vethran"s clutches all along, as seemed likely, than

Kedin had had to keep his opposition secret.

„I won"t have you shot, Vethran," Kedin shouted. „Now let

Tevana go."

Vethran laughed. „Look, Kedin," he said, and thrust the

point of his knife into Tevana"s neck. A bead of blood grew

and then trickled down her pale skin. „If you and all your

men surrender immediately, I"ll let Tevana live."

Ace could see that Kedin was finding it increasingly difficult

to maintain his air of confident detachment. He had flinched

when Vethran"s knife had sunk into Tevana"s neck.

„If you harm Tevana, Vethran, I can promise you that I will

kill you. Release her, and I"ll be merciful."

„I am your King, Kedin Ashar, and you are a traitor. I do

not need your mercy. Surrender now and I will spare Tevana."

The two men stared at each other.

The throne room was silent.

The silence lengthened.

Kedin made a signal in the air, and the platform on which

he was standing continued its descent to the floor of the

throne room. „I"ll consult with my officers," Kedin called to

Vethran, „while I"m waiting for you to come to your senses."

„I can wait, too, Kedin," Vethran replied. He flourished the

knife. „And I can make Tevana uncomfortable while I"m

waiting. So don"t make me impatient." He laughed when he

saw Kedin scowl in impotent rage. „Balon!" he called out.

Come here."

Balon Ferud brushed past Ace as he hurried from the end

of the gallery to the throne. Surreptitiously Ace slid closer, so

that she could overhear the deliberations of the King and his

Councillor.

„Balon," the King whispered, „we know that loyal regiments

are on their way. We have to play for time. I want you to go

and negotiate with Kedin Ashar. Let him think that I"m

prepared to give up the throne. Involve him in lengthy

discussions about what lands and titles I"m to retain, the

guarantees each side will give - you know the kind of thing."

„Yes, your Majesty," Balon said. „But surely Kedin will

expect precisely this gambit? It will be difficult to inveigle him

into negotiations."

Vethran smiled mirthlessly. „Quite right, Balon. But he

won"t be expecting this. Come closer. Let no one see." Ace

glimpsed the tiny glass phial that he produced from inside

his jewelled cloak. „This contains concentrate of SS10," the

King said. „Drop it into his drink or on to his food, or simply

throw it into his face if you have to. Do it at the first

opportunity. If you succeed, the Duchy of Jerrissar is yours."

Balon took the slim tube between trembling fingers. „All the

lands of Kedin Ashar?" he whispered.

The King nodded. „Lands, titles, everything," he said. „But

do it quickly. And be careful, Balon: the phial is delicate."

It seemed to Ace that from that moment events moved in

slow motion. A part of her mind was watching the portly body

of Balon Ferud trotting down the steps of the gallery, towards

Kedin. Another part was caught in an endless loop: Kedin

Ashar isn"t too bad really, and it"s reasonable for him to want

to save his lover and to get Vethran off the throne, but

Vethran"s going to poison him, so Kedin"s going to lose after

all.

And, seemingly quite independent of her mind, her limbs

were moving. She leant forward; she let her arm brush

against Vethran"s as she righted the engraved glass that had

fallen over on the table in front of him. She pulled the glass

nearer.

Vethran looked at her in surprise. He had forgotten that

she was standing beside him. He smiled to see her.

„Still here, Ace? It"s good to see I"ve still one faithful

servant."

“Thank you, your Majesty," Ace said, returning his smile.

She lifted her pitcher, tipped it, and filled the glass.

Vethran picked it up.

Balon was making his way towards the huddle of officers

around Kedin and Madok.

„Kedin!" Vethran shouted. „Balon Ferud has my authority to

parley with you."

He held up the glass as a salute.

The officers around Kedin made space for Balon to

approach.

Balon held his left hand behind his back.

Vethran brought the glass to his lips.

Balon was almost within reach of Kedin. His shoulders

tensed.

Vethran drank.

Kedin extended his hand to greet Balon.

Vethran fell face forward on to the table.

„Kedin!" Ace yelled. „Look out! Balon!"

Kedin ducked to one side, turning left and right to try to

identify the source of the warning shout. Balon swung his left

hand around his body, aiming to throw the phial into Kedin"s

face. His arm was stopped: Madok held it. Baton"s fingers

opened, and the phial fell to the floor, and shattered. Kedin,

Madok and the officers stared in horrified silence at the dark,

viscous liquid that stained the carpet at Baton"s feet.

„Baton Ferud," Madok announced, „you are under arrest."

He summoned two soldiers. „Lock him up," he told them.

Kedin ran to the foot of the stairs that led up to the throne.

„Ace," he said „thank you. You had every reason to wish that

Baton would succeed. And yet you saved me. I already owe

you more apologies than I can pronounce in a lifetime, and

now I find myself indebted to the same degree in gratitude."

Ace grinned down at him. „I sorted out the King for you,

too," she said. She turned to the slumped body beside her,

and nudged its shoulder. „Oi, wake up, mate," she said.

Vethran sat up. His face was expressionless.

„Say hello to Kedin," Ace told him.

„Hello, Kedin Ashar," Vethran said. He remained motionless,

with a faint smile playing on his lips.

Kedin bounded up the stairs. He gazed in awe at Vethran.

„What have you done?" he said to Ace.

„I"ve given him some of his own medicine," she said, waving

her pitcher in the air. „I found his laboratory."

Kedin continued to stare at the man who had once been

the King. „I suppose it"s what he deserved," he whispered. He

turned to Ace. „I"ll see to it that every drop of that pernicious

liquid is destroyed," he said. „Even the new, temporary

formula that we administered to you. It will be another happy

event in a day full of them. And," he added, turning towards

the figure sitting beside Vethran, „the best event is still to

come. I have my Tevana again. Why are you still seated, my

love? Come to my arms, my dearest angel."

Tevana stood. She seemed to Ace an eerie figure, so quiet

and restrained in the midst of the evening"s turmoil, so

deathly pale, with a trail of bright blood down her neck. She

turned towards Kedin. She didn"t smile.

Oh, no, Ace thought. I can"t bear it. It"s too awful. Vethran

had made sure of Tevana before he even brought her to the

throne room. Ace remembered the guards arriving at the door

of Tevana"s cell: they had brought food and drink. That was

probably when it had happened.

Kedin was backing away from Tevana as she advanced

towards him. His mouth and eyes were wide with shock.

„Madok!" Ace almost screamed. „Get up here! Kedin needs

you!"

She looked from Tevana to Kedin.

I can"t handle this, she thought. I"m off to find the Doctor.

Chapter Six

There had been nothing Madok could do for Kedin. In the end

he had posted guards around the gallery in the throne room,

and given orders that the Duke was not to be disturbed. He

left Kedin sitting on the throne, cradling Tevana in his lap.

Kedin had stopped weeping: he was simply rocking back and

forth with his eyes closed. His grief was inconsolable.

Then Madok had done his best to help Ace. He couldn"t

blame her for the resentment he saw in her eyes whenever

she looked at him. He deserved every pang of guilt she made

him feel. He introduced her to Lafed, from whom they had

learnt about the Doctor"s meeting with Kedin on the eve of

the attack on the city. He had sought out the leader of the

escaped Twos, a simple but imposing man named Bep-Wor,

who had recounted the story of the Doctor saving most of a

consignment of Twos from enslavement, and then the tale of

the Doctor"s capture by Vethran.

As Bep-Wor"s account led inexorably towards the Doctor"s

death, Madok felt a wave of hopelessness overwhelm him. He

was utterly weary. It seemed like years since he had last

rested; sleep was a state he had forgotten. He was drained of

all energy, and yet he knew he would have to find from

somewhere great reserves of compassion. As Ace realised that

her friend the Doctor was gone for ever, she would need

Madok"s comfort and support.

It came as a surprise, therefore, and something of a

disappointment, that Ace appeared unmoved by Bep-Wor"s

harrowing tale of the Doctor"s poisoning.

Madok had expected her to turn to him with tears in her

eyes. Perhaps, he had thought, she would collapse into his

arms, and he would stroke her hair as he tried to summon

words of sympathy and consolation.

In the event she had tutted and said, „Silly old sod. Where"s

his body, then?"

He led Ace to the plaza inside the palace gates. Bep-Wor

insisted on accompanying them, and Bep-Wor"s followers

could not be dissuaded from coming too. Many of Lafed"s

men, along with some of the King"s guards, followed the

crowd. The plaza became as crowded as the throne room had

been, and the throne room became empty but for Kedin,

Tevana and their guards.

Ace punched Madok"s arm. „Nice one, eh?" she said with a

grin, pointing to the ruins of the palace wall.

Was it possible that Ace had engineered the breach in the

wall that had allowed Lafed"s troops to take the palace?

Madok told himself that he should simply admit that where

Ace was concerned anything was possible.

„You, my lady?" he said.

„You bet," Ace said. „A neat piece of demolition, I reckon."

Madok managed to smile. „Indeed, my lady. But look." He

sighed, and lifted his arm to indicate the row of gibbets lining

the thoroughfare from the gates to the central block of the

palace.

„Oh my god," Ace said. „That"s grisly."

Six of the cages were occupied. The bodies inside them

were in varying stages of decomposition.

„Which is the Doctor?" Madok said gently.

„The one with the silly hat," Ace said. She picked out the

cage containing the freshest body: a small man, lolling within

the iron bands that would have held a larger body upright.

„Well, get him down," Ace said.

Madok gave the order. He looked searchingly at Ace"s face.

Had she misunderstood? Did she not realise that the bodies

in the cages were dead? Or was she unable to accept the

truth?

The Twos were maintaining a mournful chanting of the

Doctor"s name. It was beginning to irritate Madok. Was there

no one who realised that this crumpled little man was just a

shell: the lifeless husk of the man who had once lived?

The Doctor"s body was laid on the cobblestones. Ace knelt

beside it. She put her ear to his chest.

„One heart"s out of action," she reported. „And if he"s

breathing it"s very shallow."

„He"s dead, Ace," Madok snapped. „In heaven"s name, come

away." He couldn"t bear to see her deceive herself. But she

ignored him, and began to shout into the Doctor"s ears, and

slap his face.

There was, of course, no response.

„Hello," Ace said, „what"s this?" The encircling crowd of Twos

gasped. Ace had found something in the Doctor"s mouth.

Under Madok"s appalled gaze she began to prise apart the

corpse"s jaws.

The inside of the Doctor"s mouth looked like an oily well. It

was as black as tar. Madok grimaced as Ace inserted her

fingers, making exclamations of disgust.

She pulled from the Doctor"s mouth a slick serpent of black

matter. It slithered between her fingers like jelly, issuing from

the Doctor"s mouth in ripples and falling on the cobbles in

quivering coils. It seemed as though it would never stop.

„That"s well disgusting," Ace said. She shook drops of the

substance from her fingers. The Doctor coughed, and a

gobbet of black mucus exploded from his mouth. The Twos

cried out.

The Doctor sat up. „I quite agree, Ace," he said. „I haven"t

tasted anything as unpleasant as that since the last time you

offered to make me a real English fry-up." He looked around

at the stunned faces of the crowd. „I take it I"ve been

unconscious for some time." He stood, with Ace"s support. It

was touch and go, I can tell you. I"ve had to regenerate most

of my internal organs. Have I missed anything important?"

„No," Ace told him, „unless you count armed rebellion and

the dethroning of a King as important. Otherwise it"s been

very dull. You"ve obviously been making an impression,

though."

The Twos were beside themselves with joy. Their chant of

„Doctor! Doctor!" was so loud it made Madok"s head ring. Bep-

Wor was on his knees at the Doctor"s feet, gazing up in an

ecstasy of wonder.

The Doctor shook his head, as if he too found that the

chanting made it difficult for him to think clearly. „Ace," he

said. „I left you on the space station. Did anything happen to

you? Was there any trouble?"

Madok wondered how Ace would reply. She had, after all,

been betrayed by Kedin and Madok, and had spent almost a

week as a slave. Madok wasn"t impressed by the Doctor"s

appearance, but he didn"t want to be on the wrong side of

anyone who had the power to cheat death. He exchanged a

look with Ace.

„Nothing I couldn"t handle," Ace said, airily. „These days I

can look after myself, you know."

Madok stepped forward. He extended his hand. The Doctor

looked at it, and then appeared to remember the correct

procedure. He took it and shook it. „I am astonished, sir,"

Madok said, „but very pleased to see you so well. I am

delighted to meet any friend of my lady Ace. I am Madok, sir,

aide to Kedin Ashar."

„Lady!" the Doctor snorted. „Well, it"s a pleasure to meet

you, Madok. I hope you"ve been taking care of Ace. And how

is Kedin, by the way?"

Madok and Ace exchanged another glance. „Not good," Ace

said. „You"d better come and see."

* * *

Bep-Wor stood at the tall window and looked out across the

courtyard. Beyond it there were more solid, stone-built

extensions of the palace; beyond them the sea of roofs of the

city houses; in the distance, the surrounding, forested

mountains.

He longed to see the ocean.

It would have been unthinkable to refuse Kedin"s

hospitality. How could say that he didn"t want this suite of

high-ceilinged rooms, that he preferred his filthy rags to

these heavy, itchy clothes, that the endless exquisite meals

tasted bland and too rich?

He would have liked a simple meal of seared fish.

The convoluted carvings on the furniture made him

uncomfortable, as did the extravagant patterns on the

flouncy curtains. He wasn"t used to walking on floor-

coverings into which his feet sank.

On the open sea, or tilling the fields, on his home world, he

had felt alive. Following the Doctor, freeing his people, flirting

with danger as he led his growing army across the foreign

landscape - then, too, he had felt alive.

Now he felt nothing. No - that wasn"t true. He forced

himself to look again at Kia-Ga. She hadn"t moved: after all,

he hadn"t told her to. She was sitting, very upright, in one of

the gilt-decorated chairs, her hands folded in her lap. In her

borrowed clothes she seemed more distant from him then

ever.

He turned away. What he felt, rising again from the pit of

his stomach, swamping every other emotion, was

hopelessness.

The Doctor had saved him from Kia-Ga"s fate. The Doctor

had proved he could revive the dead. Surely he could easily

restore Kia-Ga, and all of Bep-Wor"s people who had been

poisoned and enslaved? Then why was there no word? What

was taking so long?

Had the Doctor abandoned him?

There was a knock on the door. Bep-Wor leapt to his feet:

perhaps this was a message from the Doctor. He ran to the

door and opened it.

Madok stood in the corridor outside.

„Bep-Wor," he said, „the session of the Grand Council is

ended. Kedin Ashar has asked specifically for you and Kia-Ga

to attend the announcement of its deliberations."

Bep-Wor nodded dumbly. What did the Grand Council

matter to him? He didn"t understand the complex structure

of the society on this world. He had grasped that, thanks to

Vethran"s plans to proclaim himself even more absolutely the

ruler of both his own world and Bep-Wor"s, all of the most

important people were already gathered in and around the

palace. It had therefore been possible to summon a great

meeting on the day after the overthrow of Vethran. The

Grand Council had been in session for hours.

„Would you care to follow me?" Madok said. He looked

expectantly from Bep-Wor to Kia-Ga.

Bep-Wor nodded again, and went to whisper instructions to

Kia-Ga. He could feel Madok"s eyes on him. He knew Madok

was a good man, but he hated the way that, like everyone

else here, he treated Kia-Ga as if she were in her right mind.

She"s not like this, Bep-Wor wanted to shout. This isn"t my

Kia-Ga. This is a shell, a doll made to look like her. My Kia-

Ga looks at me from the corner of her eye as she drinks cold

beer at the beach; she dances as she walks; she tells lewd

jokes and laughs before she finishes them; she clenches her

warm thighs around my waist and makes me gasp. I want

her back. I can"t go on without her.

With Kia-Ga at his side he followed Madok along the

crimson-carpeted corridor.

The proclamation was to be made in the throne room. Bep-

Wor saw that the broken glass and damaged furniture had

been removed, but there were still bullet-holes in the plinths

of statues. And small, winged animals, able to fly through the

shattered roof of the dome, were circling above the heads of

the assembly. Once again the enormous room was crammed

with people.

To Bep-Wor"s surprise Madok escorted him and Kia-Ga up

the steps to the gallery. The throne was empty, but the row of

chairs on either side of it was occupied. Bep-Wor recognised

among those sitting along the gallery the Doctor, Ace, Lafed

and Tevana. Madok offered Bep-Wor a seat, and Bep-Wor

took his place in the row, with Kia-Ga beside him.

Feeling on display and self-conscious, Bep-Wor waited. The

crowd below, many of them wearing ornate uniforms, or

jewels and precious metals sewn into their colourful clothes,

carried on so many animated conversations that the air in

the dome seemed to vibrate with the noise.

Bep-Wor wondered whether he would offend against

etiquette if he were to stand up, go to the Doctor and insist

on hearing what the Doctor had done to find a cure for Kia-

Ga, and all the other people from Bep-Wor"s world who had

been poisoned. He was gathering the courage to do so when

the hubbub from below suddenly ceased.

A tall man with a lined face was climbing the stairs. At the

top he turned, waited until the silence was complete, and

addressed the assembly.

First of all the man made sure that the members of the new

Council were present, and that also in the room were

representatives of the guilds of the city and of the army.

Bep-Wor didn"t understand all of the words and

expressions that the man used in his speech, which was a

report on the decisions reached by the Grand Council. He

gathered that Vethran"s claim to be a king was a crime, and

that Vethran had therefore never been a king. All laws passed

by Vethran were bad laws, and were no longer in force. For

some reason the man spoke particularly about the property

rights of women, which he said had been diminished by

Vethran.

There seemed to be a never-ending list of decisions.

Vethran"s personal estates were to be administered by the

Council; each nobleman - or noblewoman, the man stressed -

would have legal authority in his or her own lands; but in

cases of disputes, or in matters such as trade and dealings

with other worlds, the Council would have the ultimate

power.

Bep-Wor had almost stopped listening when the man

started to make announcements about the people from Bep-

Wor"s world. All Twos were to be freed, without compensation

being paid to their owners, and would be taken home to their

own planet. People who had profited from the trade in Twos

would be made to pay for the rebuilding of the houses

destroyed by Vethran"s army on Mendeb Two.

„And finally," the man announced, „it was the unanimous

decision of the Councillors that the Council shall be led by

Kedin Ashar, Duke of Jerrissar."

Waves of thundering applause crashed against the gallery.

Bep-Wor almost recoiled from its intensity. He formed the

impression that Vethran had been unpopular, despite his

military successes, and that Kedin was genuinely well liked.

Kedin, his head bowed, walked from the side of the gallery

to its centre. He lifted his head, and the crowd cheered. He

turned, and began to extend his hand towards Tevana. Bep-

Wor saw his hand falter, and his head droop. Bep-Wor knew

how he felt.

Kedin turned again to face the crowd, and lifted his arms

for silence.

„My lords," he began. „My ladies. My friends. I have done

nothing but restore the customary governance of our world. I

neither want, nor will I accept, any reward. There are others -

and I intend to thank them soon - who did more than me.

And no reward could recompense me for the loss I have

endured."

As Kedin turned again to look at Tevana, Bep-Wor saw the

glint of tears in his eyes.

„I accept the leadership of the Council," Kedin went on. „Not

because I believe I merit the position but because it will give

me an opportunity to serve you all. What I will never accept,"

he said, is this." He turned, and with surprising strength he

hauled the throne to the front of the gallery. Stand clear

below," he shouted, and with a twisted smile on his lips he

pushed the throne over the edge. Bep-Wor heard it land with

a splintering crash. The crowd roared its approval.

„And now," Kedin continued, „it is time to record the deeds

of those who struggled to end the tyrant"s reign. I will not list

here the names of those from my own household who gave

their loyalty, their energy, and in some cases their lives. Their

duty was to follow me, and they did their duty. Others,

however, had no obligation, but nonetheless fought bravely in

the cause. Their names will be written in the account that

will be published in every domain and posted in every town

and village. Without them we would not be free now from

tyranny, and I will not allow them to be forgotten. First, I

present to you Bep-Wor."

Bep-Wor stared at Kedin, who was scanning the row of

seats. Kedin"s searching gaze found Bep-Wor. Kedin gestured

for him to stand.

As Bep-Wor rose stiffly from his seat, the crowd burst into

applause.

„Bep-Wor and his comrades are the living proof that Twos

are not naturally slaves. On his home planet, Mendeb Two,

his people live as freely as we do. Vethran"s armies conquered

Bep-Wor"s world; Vethran"s technicians created the potion

that enslaved Bep-Wor"s captured people." Kedin hung his

head. „I confess that I assisted Vethran in both crimes."

Kedin extended his arm towards Bep-Wor. „Bep-Wor

avoided the potion. He found himself stranded on an alien

world, where every hand was turned against him. Did he

falter? No: he organised. He led a group of his people from

the landing site to here, where Vethran"s troops captured

them. He escaped from the dungeons, and led his people up

from the depths to emerge here, in Vethran"s throne room, at

precisely the right time to undermine Vethran"s last defences.

You were invaluable, Bep-Wor, and you are a credit to your

people. When you go home we will remain in communication."

Kedin rekindled the applause. Bep-Wor bowed, and

continued to bow until the applause died. He sat down. He

felt nothing.

„Next," Kedin said, „I would like to thank the man who

helped Bep-Wor and his comrades to avoid taking the potion,

and who kept Bep-Wor"s Twos alive during their journey from

Mendeb Two. He is known only as the Doctor."

Bep-Wor leant forward to peer along the row of seats. The

Doctor was reluctant to stand, and did so only when the

strange young woman called Ace pushed him from his chair.

Wringing his hands he uncomfortably acknowledged the

applause of the crowd.

He looks small, Bep-Wor thought. Insignificant. But then,

he reminded himself, that is the Doctor"s way. He doesn"t

make a show of his power and strength.

„The Doctor," Kedin continued, „accompanied Bep-Wor on

his march, and was captured along with all of Bep-Wor"s free

Twos. He knows as well as anyone the injustices of Vethran"s

rule: Vethran personally fed him fatal poison. As you can see,

it takes more than that to dispose of the Doctor."

The crowd cheered, and the Doctor gratefully returned to

the safety of his chair.

„I have - we all have - one more reason to be thankful to the

Doctor. He brought us Ace."

Bep-Wor had thought the earlier applause excessive, but as

Ace stood up the noise from below was deafening. Bep-Wor

watched her as she waved cheerfully to the crowd. She

seemed not at all abashed.

She was still wearing her outlandish black costume. Bep-

Wor could not understand why the people here found her

attire so shocking: her clothes were bizarre, and revealed her

feminine shape, but she was decently covered. Whereas the

wealthiest women here at the court wore dresses which were

designed to show off the wearer"s shoulders, or the curves of

her bosom, or a length of her leg.

„The part that Ace played in yesterday"s events is well

known," Kedin said. „She released Bep-Wor and his people

from the dungeon; she laid the explosive charge which

breached the palace wall; she gave Vethran a dose of his own

poison; and she saved me from assassination. I owe her a

boundless debt of gratitude. We all do."

It seemed as though the cheers would never cease. They

continued while Kedin summoned Ace to his side, and

embraced her. They continued even after she had resumed

her seat.

Bep-Wor studied Kedin s face. The shadow of his loss

lingered there, tingeing his smiles and his victory salutes.

But at least he"s won his battle, Bep-Wor thought. He has

Ace, and Madok, and the entire population of this grateful

world.

What have I got?

He looked at Kia-Ga.

Nothing.

Less than nothing.

* * *

The Doctor was pretending not to listen. He was sitting at the

desk in Vethran"s underground laboratory, his head cradled

in his hands as he pored over the notebooks that had been

written by Vethran"s scientists.

Ace prowled among the benches, watching him through the

convoluted coils of glass tubing.

He hadn"t once congratulated her on the things she"d done

here on Mendeb Three. He"d asked her over and over again

whether she was all right, and he"d told her how pleased he

was that she had survived the ordeal of being robbed of her

volition and her sense of herself. She didn"t doubt that he

really did care for her. But why couldn"t he give her credit for

a job well done?

She"d reached a turning point, a crossroads in her life. She

had insisted on being put down, alone, on the space station,

and she had proved that she could look after herself. And she

could look after Kedin, too. Everything was different now.

Couldn"t he see that?

„Doctor," she said, „we have to talk. It"s important."

The Doctor sighed, and looked up from his studies. His face

was drawn and his eyes were tired. „Later, Ace. I have to try

to help these people."

Ace didn"t understand. What was getting at him?

„We have helped," she said. „We"ve stopped the bad things

happening. No more invasion of Mendeb Two; no more

slavery; no more Vethran. We"ve stopped all that."

The Doctor"s expression was even more pained. „But we

haven"t put things right, Ace. How many thousands of Bep-

Wor"s people have been left as -?" He stopped, searching for

words.

„Zombies?" Ace suggested.

„That sums it up," the Doctor said. „I have to do something

for them."

Ace shrugged. It was obvious that the Doctor was blaming

himself. And that was crazy. It had been Vethran who had

invaded Mendeb Two, who had created the poison called

SS10, and who had encouraged the trade in slaves.

„You"ve been working down here without a break since

yesterday," she began.

„And I would work better without interruptions," the Doctor

snapped. „You know that Kedin intends to destroy this

workroom and everything in it. I have limited time."

„You"d better read on, then," Ace said, pointing to the open

notebook. „You"ve been on the same page since yesterday

evening."

The Doctor put his head in his hands. His voice was low

and empty of emotion. „That"s because it"s hopeless," he said.

The door swung open. Kedin, Madok, and Bep-Wor walked

in, and the laboratory was suddenly crowded.

Ace noted that her heart skipped when she saw Kedin. He

was just too tasty, that was the trouble. And there was

something particularly appealing about the troubled frown he

seemed to wear permanently these days. She caught his eye

and flashed him a grin. His lips twitched into a brief smile,

and Ace felt a warm glow.

She"d thought she would hate him for the rest of her life.

She remembered the cliché about love and hate being the two

sides of the same coin. Then she realised what she was

thinking. Love? Was that what it was?

As Kedin went to stand in front of the desk, he rested his

hand for a moment on her shoulder. She shivered.

Madok was staring at her. She smiled at him. She liked

Madok: big, reliable, sturdy old Madok. „How"s it going?" she

asked him. „Managed to get any kip yet?"

„My lady," Madok said. „Thank you for your concern. I

rested for a few hours last night."

„That"s good." Ace turned to Bep-Wor. He didn"t see her. He

was staring at the Doctor. Ace saw that his whole body was

quivering. He"s losing it, she thought.

„Doctor," Kedin said. „I"ve come to see you in the hope of

news. Have you been able to decipher the records left by

Vethran"s technicians?"

„Yes, yes, of course," the Doctor said. „And I"ve interviewed

the people who worked here. They were anxious to co-

operate. It"s all quite clear."

„I"m impressed," Kedin said. Our chemists - my chemists,

on the station, were I"m sure cleverer chaps than Vethran"s.

They never did succeed in analysing SS10. We wasted weeks

on that, and on studying the effects of diluting the distillate."

„You were attempting to create a new version of the drug,"

the Doctor pointed out, „not an antidote. You wanted

something that produced the same symptoms, but not

permanently. I"m not surprised you found it difficult. Dilution

of the solution would be useless."

„As we discovered, Doctor. Below a certain concentration

the potion had no effect at all; above it the effect remained

permanent. We were searching for a formula that would

produce a temporary effect, so that Vethran wouldn"t suspect

that we were working against him. We didn"t know how long

we would have to wait before making our military moves."

„So I got the temporary formula?" Ace said.

Kedin swung round and rewarded her with one of his

dazzling smiles. „Precisely, my dear Ace. We had only just

created it, by altering the chemical composition of a sample

of SS8. I"m so glad it worked."

Ace basked in Kedin"s attention and tried to apply her mind

to the problem of spore-seed derivatives. „But that"s no good

as an antidote," she said. You"d need a completely different

approach."

„It can"t be done," the Doctor said abruptly.

Everyone turned to look at him. Ace saw that Kedin"s face

was suddenly pale.

„SS10 has a permanent effect on the physiology of the

brain," the Doctor said. „It"s fundamentally different from all

of the other formulas derived from the plant. What it does is-"

He paused, his face screwed up with disgust. „It"s diabolical.

As far as I can tell - and you will recall that I have ingested

this foul brew, although my brain is organised rather

differently - it has several active ingredients that perform

different functions. One is a powerful sedative; one reduces

inhibitions; another increases suggestibility. These are

common to most of the spore-seed distillates. In SS10,

however, there is an ingredient that proceeds immediately to

the hypothalamus, where it performs some drastic surgery

and then transforms a clump of cells into a factory for

producing a second agent which cauterises nerve endings as

they are called into play by the victim"s desires and wishes.

„All of the other effects wear off in time. This one causes

permanent damage. It"s irreversible."

Kedin was standing completely still, with his eyes closed.

„My lord," Madok said. Kedin brushed off Madok"s

comforting hand.

Ace couldn"t bear to see Kedin crushed. „There must be

something you can do, Doctor," she said. „Can"t you grow new

nerves from stem cells? Or the TARDIS could create an

organic substitute for the damaged tissue."

The Doctor glared at her. Do you suppose I haven"t

considered every possibility?" he shouted. He calmed his

voice. „The problem is the capacity of the human cranium.

The damaged cells are still there, in the brain, woven among

the healthy cells. They die, but they are replaced by cells that

become as useless as their predecessors as soon as the

victim uses them."

Kedin lifted his head. „Is there no hope at all?" he asked.

The Doctor rubbed his forehead. „There is always the

possibility that the passing of time will bring about a partial

cure - perhaps a complete cure. Eventually the body"s

defences may reject the altered cells occupying the

hypothalamus. But I have no idea how long such a change

might take, were it to happen at all. In the meantime Ace is

right: I can give you the means to grow additional, healthy

cells from each victim"s stem cells. But any recovery will be

only partial: it would be dangerous to replicate the full

complement of damaged cells. I have the necessary

equipment in the TARDIS. That"s the best I can do. I"m sorry."

He jutted his jaw, and swept his gaze around the room.

„Where"s Bep-Wor?" he said.

Bep-Wor had gone. Ace hadn"t noticed him leaving. He

must have slipped away quietly, she thought, when he heard

the Doctor"s news.

„Find him, Madok," Kedin said. „He will have taken this

badly."

„Yes, my lord," Madok said, and marched from the room.

Ace looked from Kedin to the Doctor. The Time Lord was

staring at his shoes, his shoulders hunched. Ace had never

seen him looking so forlorn. Kedin was in no better shape: he

was gazing into the distance, his eyes bright with tears. Ace

tried to imagine what it must be like to love someone as

deeply as Kedin loved Tevana, and what it must feel like for

him to lose her. She felt her own eyes stinging with tears.

She went to him and slipped her hand into his. „Come

along," she said gently. „We can"t have this. You"re making me

cry. Let"s get out of here."

She led him away. She resolved to have her talk with the

Doctor later.

The barrel of the pistol was still hot; the smell of burnt

powder still hung in the air. Madok dropped the weapon and

returned to the first body.

Kia-Ga was sitting upright in a chair next to the bed. It

crossed Madok"s mind that in death she looked scarcely less

animated than when she had been alive. He cursed his

ignoble thoughts.

Bep-Wor must have shot her as soon as he returned to the

suite of rooms he and Kia-Ga had shared. Madok had raced

up stairs and along corridors, heading directly to this room,

but he had been too late even to hear the shots.

Bep-Wor had shot Kia-Ga in the centre of her forehead: the

black, blood-rimmed hole was neat and small. The back of

the chair, however, was soaked in blood and brains. Kia-Ga"s

eyes were open. It was as if, Madok thought, Bep-Wor had

tried to obliterate the illness in her brain by shooting her

there.

Bep-Wor"s body was lying by the open window. What had

gone through his mind, Madok wondered, as he had stood

looking out across the city with the mouth of the gun

touching the side of his head?

Madok walked slowly to the door. „Stretcher bearers," he

said to the soldier he had left on guard outside. „And two

stretchers. Then take four men down to the dungeons and

bring back half a dozen of Vethran"s former Councillors. They

can have the pleasure of cleaning up the blood."

Once the lords were on their knees and scrubbing with

sufficient vigour, Madok left them under the supervision of

his lieutenant and went to report to Kedin.

As he dragged his feet along the corridors of the palace,

Madok rehearsed how he would break the news of the deaths

of Bep-Wor and Kia-Ga. Kedin"s situation was too similar to

Bep-Wor"s for Madok"s liking. On the other hand, he couldn"t

imagine Kedin taking Bep-Wor"s route out of his misery.

Kedin didn"t clutch grief to himself: he was, Madok supposed,

too sensitive to bear it for long. And so Kedin had not kept

Tevana at his side, as Bep-Wor had kept Kia-Ga: Tevana was

being cared for by her servants, who had been brought from

Cathogh.

Madok was still deep in thought as he approached the

entrance to Kedin"s apartments. And he still hadn"t decided

on the wording of his report. The guards saluted as he

passed between them. He knocked on the wide doors.

One of the doors was pulled open - by Ace. Madok was

speechless with surprise. He knew that Ace paid no heed to

convention, or even to everyday etiquette. But if she was

alone with Kedin, and with Tevana in the palace, and in

daylight, in front of the guards... Although by night would

have been even worse...

„Hello, Madok," Ace said. „Come in. Kedin"s having a lie-

down. But don"t worry, he"ll be OK. I"ll look after him."

Madok followed Ace through the hall and into the reception

room. She had removed her jacket, and the sight of her

naked shoulders disturbed him. He saw her jacket, lying

where she had discarded it, he supposed, across a chair. It

was as if she was treating the Duke"s rooms as her own.

„He"s in the bedroom," Ace said. „You want me to give him a

message?"

In the bedroom. Madok imagined Ace going to Kedin there.

„No, my lady," he said. „I must speak to Kedin Ashar myself."

„OK," Ace said. Come on, then." She went towards the door

that led to the private suite. Madok couldn"t believe that she

could behave so immodestly. „Is it bad news?" Ace asked. Her

eyes widened. „It"s Bep-Wor, isn"t it?"

„I must report to my lord," Madok insisted. „I"m sure that

he"ll be able to withstand the shock. With your help, of

course. My lady." He didn"t even regret the sarcasm in his

voice: it was clear that Ace was oblivious to it.

* * *

Ace watched the Doctor as he paced back and forth in the

tiny circular room he had chosen to stay in, at the top of one

of the palace"s tallest towers. She clutched the soft package

in her hands. She wanted him to have it, but now that the

moment had come she couldn"t part with it. Not yet.

„So what do you think?" she said, turning in a circle. „Is this

smart or what?"

The Doctor looked at her. She was wearing the tunic of her

new uniform, and she desperately wanted him to understand

what it meant. She needed his approval.

He frowned, as if he hadn"t noticed her new clothes, and

then, to her relief, he smiled. „Very military," he said. „But

quite fetching. The colour suits you."

„And I"m on the Council," she said, trying not to rush her

words. „I"ve been co-opted, whatever that means. Special

adviser to the Duke of Jerrissar. That"s quite something for a

girl from Perivale, you know."

„Very impressive," the Doctor said. He stared out of the

narrow window. „It"s time to go, Ace," he said. „I"ve done

everything I can here. The first ship"s leaving today. Taking

some of the people of Mendeb Two back home. We should be

on it."

He sounds defeated, she thought. It"s unreasonable. We"ve

done well. Baddies vanquished, evil overcome, all of that

stuff. And he still doesn"t understand.

„But there"s so much still to do," Ace said. She had to try to

keep the excitement out of her voice. Here, and on Mendeb

Two. I can help. I can explain the technology on the space

station. Computers, quantum machines, even things like the

food replicators. The whole of the north of Mendeb Two has

to be reconstructed. Then there"s the treatment programme

for the ones affected by SS10. There"s enough to keep me

busy for years."

The Doctor turned to face her. „They"ll work it out for

themselves, Ace. It will be better that way."

He still doesn"t get it, she thought. He doesn"t realise I"m

staying.

He tugged at his sleeves, as if that way he could remove the

creases. He picked up his hat and placed it on his head. „Are

you coming?" he said.

„I"ll come to Mendeb Two," Ace replied.

„That was Bep-Wor"s house," the Doctor said.

Madok"s gaze followed the Doctor"s pointing finger. The

house, like most in the village, was a ruin. Vethran"s troops

had been systematic in their destruction. Fronds of

vegetation had already climbed over the fallen walls.

There was nothing Madok could say. He and the Doctor

continued to walk, away from the self-propelled vehicle that

had brought them from the transport ship, and towards the

centre of the square. The large blue box that the Doctor

claimed was his spaceship was standing there. Kedin and

Ace, walking hand in hand, followed them.

This was only the third time that Madok had been to this

planet, and on his previous visits he had hardly strayed from

beside the ships that had brought Vethran"s soldiers and had

taken away the captured natives. Even here, though, he was

struck by the ethereal beauty of the place: the vast sky, the

warm breeze, the long shadows, the strange shapes of the

trees.

The Doctor"s craft looked incongruous, but Madok

suspected that it would look out of place anywhere. It seemed

impossible that it could fly, let alone travel between stars. As

he and the Doctor drew closer to it, he could see that its

paintwork was scratched. It looked almost as derelict as the

surrounding houses.

The Doctor produced a key from a pocket. „I"ll nip inside

and fetch the cell culture kits," he said. He glanced over his

shoulder. „It will give those two time to say their goodbyes."

„But -" Madok began, and then realised that it was not his

place to interfere. He had thought that Ace intended to stay

with Kedin. Hadn"t she told the Doctor yet?

Kedin and Ace wandered up to the blue box as the Doctor

disappeared through its door.

„I"ve still got to give him this," Ace said. She looked tense.

Kedin took the package from her hands. He tore it open.

Ace stared at him as he unfolded the contents: her black

jacket, covered with badges and signs. He placed it over her

shoulders.

„What"s this for?" she said.

Kedin put his hand under her chin and lifted her face. „Ace,

my dear, you must go with the Doctor."

„You what? But we"ve talked about this. We"ve got plans."

He placed his hands on her shoulders. „You"ve told me

many stories about your travels with the Doctor," Kedin said,

„and jolly exciting they were too. But they set me thinking.

I"ve done quite a bit of thinking about you, you know. And

you"re getting into that remarkable box thing with the Doctor,

where you belong."

Madok turned away. He felt he was intruding on a private

conversation, but to step away would only draw attention to

his presence. He couldn"t bear the look of sorrow in Ace"s

eyes.

„He needs you, Ace," Kedin said, his voice trembling with

intensity. „He can"t function without you. And, from what you

tell me, he has a great burden to carry and much to do."

Madok glanced at Ace. Tears were running down her

cheeks. „You"re only saying that to get rid of me," she said.

„You don"t want me at all."

Kedin leant forward and kissed the tears from her face.

„Ace, Ace," he said, almost moaning as he spoke. „Nothing

could be further than the truth. But listen to me, please. You

know that if you don"t go with the Doctor now, you"ll never

get another chance. If that box flies away, or whatever it

does, and you"re not inside it, you will come to regret it.

Perhaps not at once, but eventually, and more and more as

each day passes. You know that"s true."

Ace stared up at him, her mouth moving soundlessly. „But

what about us?" she whispered at last.

Kedin smiled. „Well, as the foremost member of the

aristocracy I suppose I should know all there is to know

about being noble. We have to make sacrifices, Ace." He

swept his hand in an arc across the sky. „There are millions

upon millions of worlds out there, my darling. Our broken

hearts don"t really matter. Not in the end."

Ace wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She seemed

to Madok, suddenly, to look no older than a child. She gazed

at the scene of destruction around her, as if searching for

some hope or purpose. „I wanted -" she began.

Kedin placed a finger on her lips. „None of us has what we

wanted, Ace."

The Doctor emerged, carrying a large box made of

translucent material. „Here are the kits," he said. „Complete

with instructions. Your scientists should be able to work out

how to use them." He looked from Madok to Kedin, and from

Kedin to Ace. „Ready, Ace?"

Ace lifted her hand to touch Kedin"s face, and then turned

away. „Yes, I"m ready. Goodbye, Kedin Ashar."

Madok and Kedin watched the blue box as it became

transparent, and then disappeared.

A part of me has gone, too, Madok thought. I"ll never see

her again.

„Remarkable mode of transport," Kedin observed. He stood

for a moment, in silence, staring at the place where the

Doctor"s craft had stood. „Ah, well," he said, rousing himself.

„There"s work to be done. The call of duty, and so forth. We

must all do our duty, eh, Madok?"

„Yes, my lord," Madok said.

About the Author

To my chagrin I"m old enough to remember seeing the broadcast of

the first episode of Doctor Who in 1963.

A lot has happened since then, and most of it - what it was like

to be educated at a traditional selective grammar school, the

counter-culture scene of the early seventies and its merging into

glam-rock and then punk, why I missed the Pertwee years, how I

sold Dungeons & Dragons to teenagers throughout the land and

came to publish White Dwarf magazine, my first company

directorship, when I wrote my first Fighting Fantasy gamebook -

you really don"t want to know in any detail.

In 1989 I was trying to make a living from writing, and not

succeeding. I applied for a part-time job: Doctor Who Editor at book

publishers W H Allen. The books concerned were novelisations of

the TV stories. W H Allen became Virgin Publishing, I became the

Fiction Publisher, we acquired a licence from the BBC to publish

original Doctor Who novels, and in 1992 there began a five-year

stint of almost uninterrupted publishing fun. We did Doctor Who -

The New Adventures, and then Doctor Who - The Missing

Adventures. We published non-fiction books and illustrated books

about Doctor Who. I wrote my first Doctor Who novel: Deceit. We published books about other television programmes: Red Dwarf,

Blake’s 7, The Avengers, Babylon 5, right up to Buffy the Vampire

Slayer this year. We published the infamous Black Lace imprint:

erotic fiction by women and for women.

I"m in Southampton now, writing this, and also writing other

books and doing bits of freelance copy-editing and proof-reading. I

miss my London friends, and the talented people I worked with.

But there are compensations.

„True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move

easiest who have learned to dance." Alexander Pope An Essay on

Criticism, 1711.

Peter Darvill-Evans June 2000

Document Outline

Front Cover

Back Cover

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

About the Author