“Wow, that is beautiful,” Wyn said appreciatively
as she looked at the view outside the TARDIS. The colours were amazing
for a start. The sky was a sort of red-orange and the sea below them a
deeper red-brown. The TARDIS was perched at the top of a steep cliff that
towered high above an ocean that was an even deeper brown-red.
“That’s how it looks just now,” The Doctor told her.
“Wait half an hour and the colour spectrum changes completely.”
“Wow, really?” Wyn watched as The Doctor did whatever it was
he did with the console when they landed anywhere. The colours did just
as he said. Very slowly, the reddish colours were banished, to be replaced
by blues. The sky was blue, the sea was blue, the cliffs were blue. The
sun was blue.
Sun?
“Huh?” Wyn looked at The Doctor. “Blue sun? But….”
“It’s a helium based sun,” he explained. “Helium
burns blue, not yellow like the hydrogen suns you’re used to seeing.
We’re in the middle of the Blue Star Galaxy. All the stars here
are helium stars that burn blue.”
“Wow,” she said again. “That’s for real? I never
thought it was possible.”
“Then travelling with me has taught you one thing,” The Doctor
said with a grin.
“That you can get stars that are blue?”
“That just about anything is possible,” he said. “Anyway,
keep watching and you’ll get another colour scheme in a little while.
Yellow to green to oculamarine next, I think.”
“Oculamarine?”
“You’ll see. A colour not in your spectrum.”
“Let’s go outside and watch it.” She reached for the
door opening mechanism, but to her surprise the door stayed firmly closed.
“The TARDIS is smarter than you are, Wyn,” The Doctor told
her. “IT checked what sort of atmosphere there is out there.”
He ducked under the console and pulled two strange looking helmets from
a cupboard. “We’ll need these,” he said. Wyn took one
of the helmets. It was a curious looking thing. If it was meant to provide
air in an airless environment, she really didn’t see how. There
was no air tank for one thing, and no glass in front of it.
“Gallifreyan design,” he told her. “For use in atmospheres
such as this one. The main gas out there is carbon dioxide. Utterly unbreathable
in that form. But this gadget takes the carbon dioxide and separates the
carbon from the oxygen and gives you a sort of fresh air cloud around
your face as you go along. It can also be adapted to do the reverse if
an inhabitant of a planet like this visits our kind of atmosphere.”
“Clever,” Wyn said and put the helmet on. The Doctor did the
same. “I thought you could recycle your own breathing anyway.”
“Only for a limited time. And it tends to make me light headed once
the oxygen content gets REALLY low. Anyway, shall we go?” He operated
the door mechanism and this time the doors slid open.
“Wow,” Wyn said again. Out in the open, standing on the cliff
edge, with the sea stretching to the horizon she was even more impressed
than before. She shaded her eyes as she looked at the blue sun. As the
colour scheme for the world changed to yellow and green and, as The Doctor
promised, an entirely new colour that she had no words to describe, the
sun remained a pale blue with a green tinge. It really WAS a blue sun.
“Wow, just look at those birds,” she said as she looked down
finally. That was something she had been avoiding, because these were
very high cliffs. It was rather disconcerting to note that there were
clouds actually BELOW where she stood, and birds gliding in amongst them.
And they were big birds. At least the size of a sheep or some other animal
that had no business being aerodynamic at all. “I hope they’re
herbivores. Or fish eaters at least. Don’t fancy them fancying me.”
“Fish eaters,” The Doctor said as they watched one of them
swoop down, becoming a speck on the sea far below, then rising up again
until they could see the thrashing fish in its mouth. They watched it
take it to a nest on the cliffside.
“Wow.”
“And here come the natives,” The Doctor said looking out to
sea. “And by the way, some expression of wonder other than ‘wow’
would make a change.” He grinned as she subjected him to one of
her famous scowls, then she looked where he pointed, far out over the
sea and he didn’t blame her one little bit for being unable to find
a better word than ‘wow’ to express her reaction. Wow about
summed it up for him, too.
They were humanoids, and clearly organic. But they were golden coloured,
from head to foot. They seemed to wear some kind of figure hugging golden
body suit that smoothed their contours and covered their modesty, but
it was of a colour exactly matching their actual skin. They were all,
male and female, tall and slender and beautiful in a way that tended to
annoy Wyn, being short and slightly overweight as she was. She disliked
perfect looking figures. And all of these were perfect.
All the same, they were enchanting. She forgot the birds as she gazed
at them. The Doctor was fascinated, too. He stood with his hands in his
coat pocket, trying to look casual and uninterested, as if he had seen
it all. But his face was rapt with fascination.
The golden people were travelling towards them in what looked like a cross
between giant soap bubbles and plasma balls that floated on the air and
reminded Wyn of what The Doctor had told her a little while ago –
that just about anything is possible.
“Did you ever really meet people who are made of smoke?” Wyn
asked him as they watched the golden people approach.
“Come again?”
“Something Nine said once… though I think he said it before
much earlier in his life…. there was more to it but I remember about
people made of smoke and cities made of song…. I assumed it was
a whatsit – metaphor, but looking at THESE people, I do wonder.”
“Yes, I’ve met several species made of smoke,” he said.
“Or what looked like smoke. Really they are plasma entities. Their
bodies are simply a looser consistency than ours. Cities made of song…
well, maybe not. Sounded good though. Very dramatic, mysterious, enigmatic.”
“Yeah, that would be you, all right.” The golden people were
close now. Two of them landed in front of them as they stood there on
the cliffside. The others continued to hover.
“Greetings, strangers,” the female of the two said in a voice
that seemed as golden as her skin. “Welcome to our planet. I am
Gretal and this is my husband Roane.”
“Hello,” The Doctor replied cheerfully. “I am The Doctor
and this is my friend Wyn.”
“You are in a very lonely place here. May we invite you to enjoy
our hospitality in our city.”
“Is it far from here?” The Doctor asked. He looked out to
sea. There were no islands of any kind. They must have come a long way.
He looked behind and saw that the cliff they stood upon was only a very
thin piece of land. A wedge of cliff high above the ocean that stretched
as far as the eye could see on all sides. A haven for the birds and that
was all. It was very beautiful, but definitely qualifying as one of the
most peculiar landscapes he had seen in his life – and that was
saying something when he considered the peculiar things he had seen in
his life.
“It is beyond the horizon. But we can take you.”
“Doctor…” Wyn looked at them guardedly. “Are they…
is this safe?”
“Safe?” he laughed. “Safe is boring. Staying in bed
and doing nothing is the only safe thing to do. And even then you can’t
be certain. Knew a man once who stayed in bed. He lived in Pompeii. Still
in bed now, fossilised in a museum.”
“Doctor!”
“I think they’re ok,” he said. “They seem…”
He wasn’t sure how to describe it. After so many years of meeting
strange races he had an instinct for people usually. He could tell if
they were likely to be good or bad. He was wrong occasionally, just to
prove he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. But mostly he knew.
“I think they’re fine. And I think we ought to see their city.
After all, we’re explorers. We came here to find out about this
planet.”
“We came here because I dropped a chocolate spread sandwich on the
console and some of the switches jammed up and messed up our co-ordinates.
And I didn’t tell you what happened because I thought you’d
be mad. And you’ve been really good at NOT being mad even though
I’m pretty sure you’re boiling inside.”
“Just don’t do it again,” he told her. “Anyway,
this is a great looking planet. And I think we ought to enjoy the local
hospitality.” He turned to the golden woman and told her they would
be delighted to join them. “If you give me the co-ordinates, I can
follow you on in my ship.”
“No need,” she said. “We can take you.”
They raised their arms and pointed. Small bubbles of crackling static
light broke off from their own bubbles and got larger and larger. The
Doctor stepped away from Wyn as the two bubbles came towards them. Being
caught up by them was a strange sensation. Wyn screamed as the bubble
surrounded her, but as she felt herself lifted off her feet within it
she laughed. It felt fantastic - like being tickled all over gently. She
saw The Doctor caught up as well. She tried to call to him, but the sound
just bounced off the walls of the bubble. He grinned and waved and she
grinned back.
She never thought to ask how he knew this was ok, and that they weren’t
been taken to some torture chamber or to be on the menu when these apparently
beautiful people grew fangs and decided to eat them, or some other nastiness.
Despite her suspicious mind, she couldn’t help thinking it WAS ok.
And it was a fantastic ride. The feeling of floating in a bubble across
an ocean was something she knew she would never be able to describe to
anyone else. It was even better than riding plasma storms in the TARDIS,
and THAT was a fantastic high.
But this was great because there was no obvious machinery,
no sails, no wings, nothing obvious that kept the bubble in the air, except,
perhaps, something magnetic about the energy that arced around the bubble.
She tried to think if that made sense. Would The Doctor laugh if she mentioned
her theory to him? Or was she on the right track? It didn’t seem
to be dangerous, and it wasn’t electricity, she was sure. Or if
it was, it was a safe form of it, or she was insulated somehow.
Whatever was keeping her in the air, and whatever was moving the bubble,
it was not random like a soap bubble would be. There was a definite direction
to all of the bubbles. She looked at the horizon and saw what seemed from
a distance to be two towers. They were headed towards them, and now that
she had something to focus on to give perspective, she realised how fast
she was travelling.
As they grew closer she realised that they were not towers but two giant
statues made of metal of some sort that reflected the colour of the sky
and sea as it changed from the yellow and green shades to purple and red.
Scale was difficult to judge at first, but she eventually reckoned the
tops of the heads were about a mile above sea level. And the sea came
up to their metallic thighs, which must have been at least half as tall
again if they were standing on the sea bed.
The statues were of two women, and the word voluptuous refused to leave
Wyn’s mind. She couldn’t quite make out if they were meant
to be naked or were in the sort of bodysuit that the people here wore,
but either way not much was left to the imagination. She deliberately
DIDN’T look at The Doctor as the travel bubbles glided up and over
the chest of one of the statues. They appeared to be made of platinum,
but Wyn doubted there was that much of it in existence in the universe.
Perhaps it was a platinum coat on another metal beneath.
What happened next defied the imagination. As the bubbles rose up towards
the head the mouth opened. The metal was able to move in a natural way,
not hinged or anything like that. The mouth just opened and it drew in
the bubbles like a reverse of somebody blowing bubbles.
“Wooowww!” Wyn cried out as her bubble was drawn into the
mouth. It was not dark as she had expected it to be, but lit by the same
sort of arcing energy around the walls.
So she saw quite easily that the bubble passed to the back of the mouth
and down what looked uncannily like a throat.
She screamed again as the bubble began to descend rapidly in what she
told herself was a lift shaft, NOT an oesophagus, again lit by the same
arcing energy that made the walls seem uncannily alive.
“Not alive,” she told herself. “Not alive at all. It's
a lift shaft. Just a lift shaft. We are NOT being eaten by a giant metal
woman!”
But she wasn’t entirely sure that was true.
“Doctor!” she screamed. But she knew he couldn’t hear
her in his own bubble.
She expected a bump when they landed, but in fact it was a soft landing,
and at last the bubble, having moved forward out of the lift shaft, now
dissipated, leaving her standing in a big room where a party was going
on. An orchestra of golden people were playing music while golden bodies
danced rhythmically or moved around chatting in small groups and enjoying
the food and drink. Nobody told her to, but Wyn took off her helmet as
she looked around. She judged right. There was plenty of good air. A golden
man with a tray came to her and offered her food, while another hovered
with a plate of drinks. She took one of them before The Doctor caught
up with her. She WAS still six months off being eighteen and he was surprisingly
strict with her about alcohol, even though English law on that matter
had no validity in space. When she pointed that out he had just laughed
and said he was 180 before he ever touched strong drink.
It was a nice drink, too, sort of fruity, and only a little bit alcoholic.
And when The Doctor found her he didn’t even comment about it.
“Talk about a wild ride,” he said with a big grin. “Bit
worried about the TARDIS being left so far behind though. We’ve
travelled MILES. Bubble transport - the only way to fly.”
“Yeah, it's pretty neat,” she agreed, swallowing the rest
of the drink before he DID notice. “The food is good.”
“Yes, it is,” he said. He had a look on his face, though,
and Wyn wondered what he was not saying. “Oh, nothing. Just…
He took a pastry from a passing tray and bit into it. “Strawberry
shortcake. But where do the strawberries grow?”
“Er….”
“Ok, don’t worry,” he assured her quickly. “We’re
not talking Soylent Green here. Either they have some kind of hydroponics
system for growing fruit and veg or they’ve perfected simulating
taste and texture of food made from a base protein. We used to do it on
Gallifrey. We synthesised almost any kind of food from one kind of nut.
But if you were used to fresh food you COULD tell the difference. That’s
why I installed a proper kitchen on the TARDIS. After a couple of centuries
of food made from cúl nut concentrate I got fed up with it. But
this is good. Especially since THEIR protein base has got to be some sort
of fish or possibly a seaweed. You can’t tell at all.”
“I think you’re just trying to put me off eating. Don’t
forget my dad is the man who invented the vegetarian meat substitute made
from a fungus.” She grabbed a pastry and bit in enthusiastically.
“Incidentally,” she said after washing down the pastry with
another slightly alcoholic fruit drink. “Two questions. Who are
these people, and where exactly ARE we?”
“The people are called Ghijivians,” The Doctor said. “The
planet is called Rivocx. And we’re in an underwater city at the
base of the statues. I’ve been tuning in on their thoughts while
we’ve been mingling here. Apparently they party like this all the
time. We didn’t just turn up on a special occasion, and it’s
not a welcoming party just for us. Although we ARE the first extra-terrestrials
they have met.” He thought about that for a bit and looked around
at the golden people. “Which makes their behaviour quite unusual.
They aren’t afraid of us at all. Mostly just curious.” He
smiled as a group of the Ghijivians got over their shyness and came and
touched them both, as if surprised anyone’s skin could be so different
from theirs. Wyn touched one of them on the arm and was surprised to feel
their skin was very cool, cooler even than The Doctor, whose body was
a good thirty degrees cooler than hers. It felt like touching the sort
of metallic wrapping paper that people put presents in when they wanted
to REALLY show off.
People made of metal?
But not robots. She hadn’t met any robotic species in her travels
with The Doctor, but she knew when she did they would not be like these.
These were living people, just like her and The Doctor, but their bodies
had metal in them.
“Well, so do ours,” The Doctor said. “Iron is one of
the essentials of health in your species. Mine needs another metal with
a name that would be meaningless to you. The Ghijivians just have it in
larger quantities than we do.”
“Ok.” Wyn accepted that. It made sense. “And they ARE
good guys? Only… just because they’re feeding us and smiling….”
She looked around the room. The Ghijivians were all of them smiling and
laughing, chatting amiably. Some of them waved. “You ever see the
Simpsons Halloween special with the alien abduction?”
“Er….” The Doctor looked at her with a puzzled expression.
He considered himself fairly well acquainted with Earth popular culture
in all its worst and best aspects and he understood what she was referring
to but not how it related to their present situation.
“The family are kidnapped by aliens who promise them they’re
going to a nice place. Lisa finds a book called ‘How to Cook Humans’.
The alien blows some dust off and it says ‘How to Cook For Humans.’
Lisa blows some more dust off and it says “How to Cook Forty Humans’
and so on….. Anyway my point is, are we here FOR dinner or to BE
dinner?”
“We’re here FOR dinner,” The Doctor said. “These
people have no evil intentions. I have been scanning their minds very
gently. Don’t want to probe too deeply. It's not something I make
a habit of doing. Telepathic violation of a mind without permission is
something we frown upon. But with the TARDIS so far away and no way to
get back to it without their goodwill I thought I’d better check.
I don’t believe they even know what evil is. They are… they
are in a State of Grace.”
“A what?” Wyn thought she had heard the expression somewhere,
but she wasn’t sure.
“In Christian thinking, the first Humans in Creation – Adam
and Eve – were without sin, without the knowledge of what sin was.
A state of grace. But the serpent told Eve what it was, and knowing that
sin existed they were both tempted by it. But imagine Earth if people
had never known it was possible to hate, envy, covet etc.”
“Wouldn’t be EARTH,” Wyn said. “Not as I know
it anyway. It’s not really about good and evil as an either/or option.
Most people are just people, a bit of both.”
“Exactly. But these aren’t. These people ARE still in the
state of grace. They live in a world without those negatives.”
“They live in a weird world.”
“It’s sort of nice though, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Wyn admitted. “As long as you’re
right about them. But… if somebody doesn’t know a thing is
a sin, is it still a sin?”
“That’s a theological question,” The Doctor said with
a grin. “I’m a scientist, lawyer and all round good guy. But
theology is not really my subject.”
“I was thinking, maybe they DO do mean and nasty things but they
don’t know they ARE mean and nasty.”
“I think you just want there to be something wrong because it seems
too nice and perfect,” The Doctor said.
“Don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve never trusted idyllic worlds.
They usually have a dark side.” He looked around and waved at smiling
golden people all around him. “Just for once I’d love to be
wrong.”
“Would you like to see some more of our city?” Gretal asked.
The Doctor looked around in surprise. He hadn’t seen her approach
them. They all had such a quiet way of moving, almost a glide, as if their
feet didn’t quite touch the ground.
“We would be delighted, wouldn’t we, Wyn,” he answered.
“Perhaps you could tell us a little more about it. How far down
under the ocean are we?”
“Approximately 400 pells,” Gretal answered.
“Ah,” The Doctor said. “And 400 Pels is equal to….”
He looked as if he was calculating the figure. “Roughly two and
a half Earth miles. Very impressive. The statues we saw as we approached
are standing on the roof of the city?”
“They are.”
The Doctor and Wyn followed Gretal as she brought them to a long passageway
which was partially metal walls and partially glass that curved around
gracefully with no distinction between walls and ceiling. They looked
up and they could see the feet of the giant statues and the legs rising
up through the clear blue ocean. The scale of it was mind-boggling, even
for The Doctor. For Wyn it was too much. She looked away.
“Where did so much metal come from?” The Doctor asked. “The
city seems to be constructed of it, and the statues… there must
be thousands of tons of…. What was it? Platinum, Lutanium….
No, not Lutanium, that’s for sure. I doubt there’s that much
of it in the universe.”
“The statues are mainly platinum. So is the city. You are quite
right that Lutanium is impossible to obtain in such vast quantities. The
eyes are fashioned from Lutanium. The ore comes from the continent on
the other side of this planet. You arrived on the ocean side -the most
beautiful part. But the platinum was mined on the great landmass on the
other side.”
“So there is more land than the little bit we landed on,”
The Doctor commented. “And do your people live on the continent?
Do they mine the ore?”
“No,” Gretal said. “Not now. The ore was depleted many
decades ago. All the metal on Rivocx is in the walls of this city or the
statues above.”
“Really?” The Doctor frowned about that. “You have completely
asset stripped the planet?”
“Yes.”
He said nothing more on that subject, but Wyn looked at him several times
as they continued the guided tour around the city. She had a feeling he
was thinking about the implications of a world that had completely run
out of something most planets surely took for granted.
Even the enormous hydroponics chamber where they saw acres of food being
grown in artificial light to feed the population of Rivocx did not seem
to distract him, although he was pleased to see that both his theories
were correct at the same time. They grew one crop, a sort of corn. And
in another part of the city that was processed into all of the delicious
food that the people enjoyed.
“You have remarkable technology,” The Doctor told Gretal.
“Almost up to the standards of my people.”
“You’re just bragging,” Wyn teased him.
“Where is your space port?” The Doctor asked out of the blue.
“Huh?” Wyn looked at him and wondered why he thought they
even HAD a space port. But she knew he was acting on instinct and she
knew that he was not asking these questions out of idle curiosity.
“In the south sector,” Gretal answered.
“Ah. And may we see that?”
“I don’t think you would find that very interesting,”
she said. “But if you would like to see it….”
“Yes,” he said “I would be interested. And while we
are at it, I should like to see your education facilities, your children….”
“Children?” Gretal looked at him curiously. “We have
no children. There have been no children born for many decades.”
“Oh.” Again The Doctor looked as if he was processing a lot
of information. “Space port it is, then.”
Even Wyn, without any psychic abilities, knew that Gretal was worried.
The Doctor said nothing. As they reached the south sector, she was met
by her husband, Roane, and two other Ghijivians who, although they wore
the same gold bodysuits seemed to have an air of ‘technicians’
about them.
And all seemed nervous.
Yet they showed The Doctor and Wyn their space craft. They had only one
of them, yet - an impressive model, all the same. It was sleek, with swept
back wings and a pointed nose cone like Wyn thought alien vessels were
supposed to look like, and it was designed to rise up through the ocean
itself before taking off for the stars.
“You’ve got hyperdrive,” The Doctor exclaimed, impressed,
as he was shown a computer simulation of how the ship would travel through
space. “Next best thing to vortex travel. If you know how to handle
it you could even manage a bit of time jumping in a ship like that. But
don’t go trying that yet. Learn to walk before you can run.”
The technicians seemed proud of The Doctor’s approval of their work.
He asked a few more questions and discovered they had developed the space
travel technology from the underwater ocean going vessels they had used
for many generations. That, he thought, was why they seemed to have jumped
a few steps in the development of space travel in the way Earth, for instance,
went through. Instead of starting with the Apollo type programmes with
one off rockets and capsules they had jumped straight onto a reusable
supersonic shuttle.
“We have some entertainments going on in the great hall,”
Gretal said when he seemed to have exhausted their knowledge of space
travel. “Would you care to come?”
“Delighted,” he said. “Then again, on second thoughts,
I wonder if there is a place where we could rest. Wyn is becoming rather
weary. I think it could be the effects of the fruit wine she had several
glasses of earlier.”
“No I’m fine….” She began, but then she caught
The Doctor’s look. “Oh, yes, I’m really tired. I could
do with a lie down.”
“Of course,” Gretal said pleasantly. “How remiss of
us not to consider your comforts.” She snapped her fingers and a
bubble was created out of the air. It caught them all up together and
they were carried along. “We don’t usually travel this way
within the city, but it IS more restful.”
“Very restful,” The Doctor agreed. So did Wyn. Again she thought
that The Doctor was considering things deeply. She kept her own counsel
until they were shown into a very pleasant looking room. One wall and
part of the ceiling were glass, like a window into a great aquarium. Two
long sofas with soft cushions looked very inviting, as did a table with
more of the food and drink that there was no shortage of in the city.
Wyn lay on one of the sofas and reached for the fruit bowl. She thought
better than to touch any more of the drink.
“So… what’s….” Wyn began once they were
alone. But The Doctor put his finger to his lips. She watched as he pulled
out his sonic screwdriver and began to scan the room carefully.
“Beautiful people,” he murmured. “So innocent and free
from guile. Completely trustworthy.” He stopped by the fruit bowl
and lifted it up. He pointed the sonic screwdriver at the base of it and
it emitted a low static noise for a few seconds. “So why….”
He said. “Why have they got a bugging device in this room?”
“So there IS something funny going on here? I knew it. Gretal….”
“Is innocent, I am sure of it,” The Doctor said. “She
has no idea even of the concept of deceit. But the idea of taking us to
the spaceport bothered her. I don’t think she even realised why.
And every time I asked a question about their technology it seemed as
if they weren’t sure if answering me was allowed.” He stood
by the window and looked out at the purple-yellow sea. “The people
we have seen so far ARE as I said – in a state of grace. They don’t
understand such things. But are they the ones in charge? And what is the
problem with children? Why have they not had any children for so very
long?”
“Do you suppose they MAKE babies the same way we do…. I mean…
the way Humans do…. And Time Lords.”
“And just about most species in the universe,” The Doctor
said with a half smile. “I don’t know. But I’m going
to find out….” He turned and lay on the other sofa, though
not in any way relaxing or lounging, and he wasn’t interested in
food or drink. “Trying to reach out to them,” he said. “Looking
at their minds.”
“Mind reading? I thought you had to touch people to do that? Or
at least be in the same room.”
“Not mind reading, but looking AT their minds. Not their thoughts,
but the way they think. I’m seeing exactly what I thought…
gentle people with no guile, no deception, no ill-intentions. And yet,
I feel as if there is a deception going on. Got to look deeper.”
Wyn watched him begin to drop into a deep meditative trance in order to
free his own mind of distractions and concentrate on the minds of the
golden people. She knew well enough to leave him alone when he did things
like that. She poured herself a glass of the fruit drink and sipped it
slowly while she waited for him to wake. He looked comfortable, anyway,
she thought.
She felt tired now. She hadn’t before, when The Doctor suggested
resting. But now she did. She finished her drink, lay down on the soft,
comfortable sofa and closed her eyes.
When she woke she was neither in a soft nor a comfortable place. She was
lying on a sort of table, and her hands and legs were fastened down firmly.
“The drink was drugged?”
“Yes,” The Doctor told her. His voice was close by her ear.
She turned her head and saw him fastened to the same table next to her.
“You ok?” He had some kind of sensors taped to his head and
she realised that she did, too.
“Well… depends how you define ok. I’m tied to a table…
And so are you. And seeing as I tend to rely on you to rescue me when
I’m in trouble, on the whole that’s not really a good definition
of it.”
“Found some stuff out anyway. The ordinary people here ARE innocent.
They don’t know the meaning of hate, envy, greed, deceit. They take
their world for granted and have no reason to believe there is anything
amiss. But there is. Isn’t there?” He turned his head and
addressed, not Wyn, but the Ghijivian who stood over him. “There
is a higher echelon of the Ghijivian society, isn’t there - the
ones who pull all the strings, and who deceive the people.”
“I am Martok, I am leader of the Ghijivian people. You have understood
our society well, Doctor. What is the phrase you used to describe them…”
“State of grace,” he replied. “And it is true. They
do not know how to lie, to hide the truth from me or from each other.
That’s why they showed me everything about their space programme.
They didn’t know how to hide it from me. Secrecy, even for the best
of reasons is deceit. They do not know that you DO know how to do all
of these things. And I don’t know why.”
“Metals,” Martok said. “The woman Gretal told you….
we have no metals left on this planet. Without it our society cannot progress.”
“You mean you can’t build any new cities?” Wyn asked.
“Not just that,” The Doctor said. “I understand….
Your gold colour… your skin… you need metal... You cannot
reproduce without it.”
“You are very perceptive.”
“I am, that,” The Doctor replied. “But so… why
are we captives? What is THIS about?”
“We have built our ship. We have the ability to travel to other
worlds. But we have no knowledge of the universe. We do not know where
to find planets with rich metal ores. We need information from you.”
“You didn’t have to do this to get information. If you asked
me nicely I could have given you the locations of planets where you could
trade for what you need – planets where your hydroponics systems
would be valuable. There are a few uninhabited planets with metals ores
– although not many. Humans have pretty much spread themselves across
the universe for just that reason. They have mining colonies all over.
But you could still negotiate.…”
“No,” Martok said. “No, we shall not negotiate with
such lesser races. We shall take what we need. By force if we must.”
“What the heck?” Wyn looked around at Martok. “The rest
of your people are like fluffy bunnies, they’re so nice. And you….”
“You are the serpent,” The Doctor said. “You will teach
them the name of evil, of sin. There is more at stake here than the mining
of metals. This is about the very fabric of this society. Yes, if you
have no new children your society is in trouble. But if it thrives at
cost to other societies, then is it worth it? The cost is the very souls
of your people. They ARE good people, Gretal and Roane and the others
I met. They’re beautiful people. They are the best. You would destroy
them.”
“They will learn to be conquerors. They will learn that the greater
good of our people is paramount and nothing else matters, no other species
matters. They will travel to the ore rich planets. The energy that you
have observed here… that we use for our transport and other peaceful
uses… it can also be used as a weapon.”
“Weapon is not a word your people should even have heard of,”
The Doctor sighed.
“Nevertheless we have a weapon – one that will destroy all
life on the planet in a very short time. And then we can mine the ore
we need.”
“See, Wyn,” The Doctor said. “That’s the downside
of people who are pure good. They sometimes breed pure evil. Those of
us who have both the dark and the light in us, we keep it in balance most
of the time. But here, it is an either/or situation. Gretal and her sort
are the good, Martok is the bad.”
“Enough,” Martok said. “You will tell me about your
planet. Tell me what ores they have. Tell me how to get to your planet.”
“I don’t think so,” The Doctor answered.
“Same here,” Wyn added.
“You WILL tell me. We are skilled with drugs, as you saw. A simple
sleep draught in the drink. But this…” Martok grabbed Wyn’s
arm and injected her with a green tinged liquid. She yelped at the sudden
pain. “It is a truth drug. You will tell me what you know.”
Behind him a wall-mounted monitor flashed on. “You will tell me
what I need to know, in words, or in your thoughts. Even if you try to
lie the screen will show what you are thinking.”
“Drop dead,” Wyn replied and an image of Martok doing just
that appeared on the screen to prove she was telling the truth.
“Tell me of your planet,” he demanded, and Wyn, despite her
best efforts, found herself answering him. The Doctor was impressed by
her knowledge. Of course, she came from a mining village. When she went
to school she had learnt about such things, even at an early age. By the
time she was a teenager she had learnt all about different kinds of mining,
tin mining in Cornwall, gold mining in Australia, South Africa. And though
most of it was subconscious, the truth drug allowed it to be brought to
the surface.
The Doctor looked at Martok as he viewed Earth’s mineral bounty
as envisioned in Wyn’s mind. Greed. The man epitomised that vice.
It was as if all those negatives the others didn’t have were concentrated
in him.
“Excellent,” he said. “And your world’s defences
– what of them?” There Wyn was far from an expert. The only
defence she knew Earth had was The Doctor. Her mind presented an almost
entirely defenceless world. “And the co-ordinate of this world?”
There he came unstuck. Wyn hesitated. Her mind came up with pictures of
the solar system, but that was the best she could do. She had never programmed
the TARDIS’s controls for Earth. She had never piloted it even within
the solar system. She had no idea of where Earth was in relation to this
planet.
“Tell me!” Martok demanded. “Tell me the location of
this planet.”
“I don’t know,” she answered, and her confusion registered
on the screen as shimmering shadows. “I don’t know how to
get to Earth from here.”
“You lie.”
“She can’t LIE,” The Doctor protested. “You’ve
got her under your influence. She doesn’t know.”
“YOU know,” Martok changed his tactic. He turned to The Doctor
and injected him with the same liquid.
“You will answer my questions. The truth drug will ensure no attempt
at deception. You will tell me what I need to know or I will kill the
female who is no use to me.”
“If you say so,” The Doctor murmured weakly. The “truth
drug” made him feel sick and the light hurt his eyes. He had never
felt less like the hero Wyn and others thought he was than he did right
now. He would gladly give them the co-ordinate of his home world if they
would just let him lie down in a darkened room.
“Would you indeed?” Martok smiled greedily. “And what
has YOUR home world got to commend it to my use?”
“Oh, lots of things,” he said. “Rich planet. Lots of
minerals. Gold, silver, diamonds… Lutanium… lots of Lutanium.
Smothered in the stuff.” As he spoke, images appeared on a screen
behind his head - images of a beautiful planet with lots of red desert
but watered places too - a place of learning and culture and reason, a
place rich in natural resources. “Lutanium toys in the breakfast
cereal,” The Doctor giggled. Lutanium was a rare precious metal,
valued by all who place a value on such things. That it was found in only
small quantities on most planets made it even more valuable. Murder had
been done for it many times. “Even on my peaceful world, people
covet Lutanium,” he murmured.
“And there are defences on your planet, to prevent these riches
being harvested by ones as enterprising as ourselves?”
“Transduction barrier. Nothing gets through the transduction barrier
without a key.” Again his thoughts were translated to images on
the screen of ships turned back by an invisible but very real barrier
in space.
“And the key is…..”
“No,” The Doctor screamed defiantly. “No, you won’t
have that. I won’t betray my people.”
Wyn looked at him curiously. What was he on about? Had the drug regressed
his memory? Didn’t he KNOW his people were gone? His planet destroyed?
Her heart went out to him. He was going to hurt so much when he realised.
“But you WILL,” the Ghijivian said calmly. “Oh, you
will.” And he nodded to his subordinate who turned a dial. The Doctor
felt his head spinning as more of the ‘truth drug’ was pumped
into his bloodstream. He really DID think he was going to be sick soon.
The images that appeared on the screen were far from pretty.
“The key,” the Ghijivian demanded. On the screen an image
of an ordinary key appeared, against a starfield. It revolved slowly and
then looked as if it was unlocking space itself.
“NO!” The Doctor screamed but the truth drug made it impossible
for him to resist. The screen resolved into a long series of characters
that made up the ‘key’ to the transduction barrier.
“Thank you,” Martok said with a smile. He reached and picked
up what looked like a memory chip and slotted it into a hand held device.
He aimed it at the viewscreen and it replayed The Doctor’s visions
of his home as if they had been recorded on the chip.
“Just… go away now and leave me in peace,” The Doctor
begged. “Please have that much compassion.”
“Compassion?”
The screen filled with definitions of the word ‘compassion’
– a mother with a child, a nurse tending a wounded man, aid workers
feeding the hungry of a famine wracked region. Martok laughed.
“Ah, it is another word for weakness.”
“If you like,” The Doctor murmured. “Just let me sleep
now.”
“We will permit you THAT much of your so called ‘compassion’.
Yes, you may sleep, for as long as you can. But sleep in this knowledge.
You have brought the downfall of your own people for nothing. The ship
will be despatched at once to the co-ordinate where your mineral rich
planet lies. It will be ours.”
“Whatever,” The Doctor said sleepily and turned his head away
from the bright light. Wyn was astonished, and just a little disgusted,
to hear him snoring lightly.
Martok turned and left the room.
There was a long silence, disturbed only by The Doctor’s peaceful
snores.
Then….
“Ok, he’s out of the way. Let’s get this planet sorted
out.” The Doctor sat up. The restraints on his arms simply ripped
from their moorings. He reached for his sonic screwdriver and used it
to free his own legs and then free Wyn.
“But….” she began.
“Oh come on,” he laughed. “Truth drug…. As if.
I’m a Time Lord. You think I can succumb THAT easily.”
“But…”
“I gave him the co-ordinate for Gallifrey, yes. But Gallifrey is
gone. All that rich bounty… all that we were is no more. The co-ordinate,
even if he could get there, is a piece of empty space with a black hole
slowly pulling even that into oblivion. If he gets too close to THAT he’s
history. But I don’t even intend to let him get that close. He’d
take innocent Ghijivians with him and I can’t let him do that.”
The sonic screwdriver took care of the door, too. Outside The Doctor looked
as if he was getting his bearings for a second then he set off at a brisk
pace. Wyn ran to catch up with him.
“What are you going to do?” she asked him.
“Something I wish I didn’t HAVE to do,” he said. “I’ve
got to show the golden people what evil is, bring about their fall from
grace. Otherwise they will follow Martok into committing genocide and
they won’t even know they’re doing wrong. What was it you
said earlier – is it still a sin if they don’t know it is
a sin? YES, it is. If I could protect them I would. But the only way to
stop terrible things happening is to show these people the truth.”
“Maybe people aren’t meant to live that way, really,”
Wyn said as if she was trying to make him feel better about what he had
to do. “I mean, it's a sort of ignorance really. Not knowing about
those things. I mean… you compared it to the Adam and Eve story.
Well, the apple was on the Tree of Knowledge, and when they ate it, they
gained understanding….”
“They gained a vale of tears,” The Doctor said. “These
people will be changed by this. But I can’t help it.”
They reached the ‘great hall’ that Gretal had spoken about.
Most of the people were gathered there. Martok was standing on a raised
stage where musical instruments and backdrops for a play were idle just
now. There was a large viewscreen beside the stage and The Doctor recognised
the pictures that appeared on it. Martok was relaying them onto the screen
with the handheld device and telling the people how mining the rich resources
of this planet he had discovered would be the answer to their hopes. They
would have new homes in an expanded city. They WOULD have children. That
alone excited them.
“All we need is the courage to go and get these resources,”
he said. “And I shall lead you to that end.”
“You will lead them to the destruction of their souls,” The
Doctor said as he mounted the stage. Nobody thought to restrain him. That
was one good thing about their innocence. They didn’t think to stop
anybody from doing virtually as they pleased. “I am a stranger to
you,” he said, addressing the crowd. “You have no reason to
believe me above your own leader, but please hear me out. Please LOOK
at what will happen if you do what he asks you to do.” And on the
screen another vision appeared. Not from the memory chip, but from The
Doctor’s mind. He closed his eyes and concentrated. It was not easy
to project his thoughts like that. But he COULD do it. He showed them
the people of Gallifrey, people of learning and culture and peace. And
then he showed them the most terrible image there was in his mind - the
destruction of Gallifrey. It shocked the Ghijivians. They had no concept
of death other than as something that happened peacefully at the end of
a long life. He felt their distress.
“That is what Martok wishes to do. He wishes to destroy people in
order for you to have your precious metal.”
“It is a lie,” Martok said. “In any case, these are
not OUR people.”
“They are sentient lives. They are people like yourselves.”
“They are NOT important. They are NOT our people.”
“They ARE people?” Roane moved to the front of the crowd.
Gretal was beside him and he put his arm around her.
“Yes they are people,” The Doctor told him.
“Gretal and I could wish for nothing more than a child of our own,
but not at such a cost. Martok, we did not build the space ship with the
last metal on the planet, with metal extracted even from the bodies of
our dead, in order to do such a thing. You cannot.”
Around him the people murmured in agreement with Roane. They looked at
Martok with expressions on their faces that saddened The Doctor as he
cast his gaze from one face to another - hatred, disgust, anger, disappointment.
They didn’t even have words for those emotions in their vocabulary,
but in one moment they had discovered that they HAD those emotions. The
serpent showed them the meaning of sin and they had fallen from grace.
They were tainted by the evil.
“I am leader,” Martok growled.
“You are only leader if we follow you,” one man said. “We
will follow Roane instead. Roane will be our leader.” The cry went
up. Roane stepped forward. The Doctor reached out his hand and helped
him stand up on the stage.
“You seem to have been elected,” he told him. “Do you
feel up to the job?”
“I will do my best for the good of my people,” he said. Then
he turned to Martok. “You have wronged us,” he told him. “What
must I do to right that wrong?”
And that, The Doctor thought, was the make or break moment for these people.
How they treated the one who had fallen first would determine how far
they would fall. Would they give in now to mindless and cruel revenge
or would they be merciful?
They had no concept of cruelty or revenge. He wondered, indeed, where
Martok must have got his evil intent from. It was not a true characteristic
of these people. They looked at their former leader and puzzled over what
should be done with him.
Then Martok decided the matter for them. He snapped his fingers and a
glowing bubble descended and surrounded him. But he did not try to escape
in it. Instead, he did something – nobody was sure exactly what,
and the bubble began to fill with the arcing energy that he had already
said could be made into a weapon. It could also, The Doctor realised with
a shudder, be made into an execution chamber. The Ghijivian people turned
their faces away in horror as they saw Martok’s body begin to melt
within the bubble. The metals that made up part of him pooled around his
feet while the parts of him that were flesh, blood, bone, charred and
burned. Wyn looked as if she was going to be sick. The Doctor himself
was perhaps the only one who kept his eyes on what was happening to Martok.
He was horrified, but he felt unable to turn away.
When the bubble collapsed at last, all that was left of Martok was a pool
of molten metal on the ground.
“May it be put to good use,” Roane said. He turned to The
Doctor. “I thank you for preventing something we could not countenance
happening. But what if Martok is not the only one with such ideas?”
“That is for you to sort out. I am not one of you, I am only a stranger.
If I interfere, I may do untold harm. You must all learn how to deal with
the challenges of your world.”
There was one thing he COULD do for them. When Gretal and Roane brought
him and Wyn back to the TARDIS, parked safely on the cliff in the middle
of the ocean, he asked them to come in for a few minutes. In the time
it took them to come to terms with the interior of the TARDIS he put several
useful co-ordinates onto a memory chip.
“These are planets where there are great mineral resources, but
where food is hard to grow. You may be able to trade your hydroponics
technology for a share of the ores you need. I make no promises. Diplomacy
is something you will have to learn. You also need to learn the meaning
of words like deception. I cannot promise that people won’t try
to lie to you or take advantage. You must learn to recognise vices in
others while trying to remain free of them yourselves. That won’t
be easy. I hope you succeed. I wish you luck.”
With that he showed them to the door of the TARDIS. He
shook both of their hands, a gesture he told them would be useful when
they met with Human colonists. Then he closed the door. Gretal and Roane,
a people who had mastery of so many wonders of their own, stared in astonishment
as The Doctor’s own wonder dematerialised before their eyes.