“Dominic!” The Doctor smiled as he felt the boy’s mind
reach out to him across time and space. “I knew you could do it.
Wait, let me help. You’re not strong enough yet. You need to practice.
But I hear you. I feel you. Well done, my boy. Well done.”
He looked around at Susan. She was looking at him curiously. He knew his
face must have gone a bit strange as he concentrated on reaching out to
him.
“Can you take over here for a few minutes,” he asked. “Just
keep an eye on those two gauges and make sure the left one doesn’t
go over 150 and the right drop below 70. If they do, slowly adjust the
knobs beside them.”
“Ok,” Susan answered. The idea of actually doing something
important in flying the TARDIS thrilled her. It was one compensation for
leaving Forêt and Miche. “What are you doing?”
“I’m talking to Dominic,” he answered.
“Oh,” she said. “I wish… Ask him to give my love
to Miche, won’t you.”
“I want him to give my love to Dominique first,” The Doctor
said. “But I’ll pass your message on, too.” Then he
lay down on the sofa and closed his eyes. He reached again and found the
boy’s mind. “Is your mother near you?” he asked. “Go
and take hold of her hands, will you.” Dominic did so. The Doctor
smiled joyfully. He couldn’t EXACTLY feel her hands, but he knew
that Dominic could. “Kiss her on the cheek. And tell her I love
her.”
That he DID feel. Dominic’s love for his mother was clearly and
fully transmitted to him. The boy reported that his mother was crying
- but for joy, not for sorrow, because she knew, now, that her husband
would NEVER be away from her no matter how far he roamed.
“Later, tell Miche that Susan is thinking of him, but maybe without
the hands on demonstration,” he added after they left Dominique
to her own devices. “Meanwhile, let me teach you how to strengthen
this ability. Try to send me a picture of something. Something other than
your mother. As much as I love to see her face, that’s too easy.
Can you picture the Hall of Devotions and show me each part of it in detail.”
It was a stretch, but he did it. After a while though, The Doctor stopped
the exercise.
“Enough for now, Dominic,” he said. “I don’t want
to exhaust you. Go and get a cup of buttermilk and sit for a while, and
then go and play bâton haut with your friends.”
“I love you, father,” Dominic told him. The Doctor’s
hearts swelled with pride when he said that. He responded in kind before
gently closing the connection between them. He sat up and smiled. He stood
and went to where Susan was dutifully manning the console.
“I wish Miche and I could do that. But we’re just Human. You
and Dominic are lucky.”
“When you see him again, it will be all the sweeter for being apart
for a little while. You’ll know for sure if it really is love.”
“What if it is?” She asked. “I know I could be happy
living with him on Forêt. More than you could be. But mum and dad
and Heather… especially Heather. We have a LOT of catching up to
do….”
“We’ll work it out,” The Doctor promised. “Meanwhile,
we’re heading for a really exciting planet. You up for it?”
“I’m always up for it,” she answered with a smile. Visiting
really exciting planets was the best thing about life with The Doctor.
Forêt was one of her favourites, of course. But she had fond memories
of the Eye of Orion, and then there was Pallexia, with the wonderful domes
of science, and Kallo V’Asel with its Aurora.
Yes, she’d seen some interesting planets.
This one was going to slide right into her top ten, she thought as they
stepped out of the TARDIS and she looked up at a red-orange sky and down
to the red-orange grass beneath her feet.
“Wow!”
The Doctor laughed softly. Every Earth person said ‘wow’ the
first time they saw grass that wasn’t green.
And then they looked around and saw the sculpture garden.
Usually the TARDIS was the most unusual thing in the landscapes it landed
in. It worried The Doctor sometimes how conspicuous it could be. He didn’t
like it attracting too much attention .
But here, the TARDIS actually looked rather run down and dismal compared
to the sculptures. Susan stared around in amazement at the weird and wonderful
abstract shapes. One looked almost humanoid, if a humanoid could be twenty
feet tall and made of veined rock. Behind it was something that looked
like a space rocket made of candle wax that had melted in the heat. There
was a small forest of what looked like multi-coloured stone mushrooms,
all taller than the TARDIS, and a collection of spiky objects the size
of beach balls placed in what Susan supposed was an artistically significant
positions.
“Abstract art!” she said with a smile as The Doctor led her
through an extensive sculpture park.
“Abstract art….” By her side Ric whirred into action,
drawing from his database of knowledge as he went into the mode he was
designed for – tour guide. “Art that does not depict objects
in the natural world, but instead uses color and form in a non-representational
way. On Earth in the early 20th century, the term was used to describe
art, such as Cubist and Futurist art, that depicts real forms in a simplified
manner, keeping only an allusion of the original natural subject. Such
paintings were often claimed to capture something of the depicted objects'
immutable intrinsic qualities rather than its external appearance. Elsewhere
in the universe abstract art is most highly prized by the people of Nebau
Tertius, who believe realistic depictions of living beings to be blasphemous.
Here on Rhekan the production of a significant piece of abstract art is
compulsory for all students of the university except those taking courses
in agricultural science.”
“Thank you, Ric,” Susan said with a laugh. “Meanwhile,
as I was saying, Abstract Art!” She smiled as they came upon a very
ambitious piece. It was a water feature with a vaguely tree shaped structure
that had pot like flowers at different heights around its trunk and branches,
from which water was coming out in different colours and different water
pressures to gather in a pool of rainbow colours below.
“Not bad,” The Doctor grinned.
“If you like that sort of thing,” Susan added. “It’s
all kind of fun, as long as the artists don’t expect me to see the
meaning of life in them. I hate that. You know, when somebody puts three
lines of different coloured paint on a blank canvas and calls it ‘Origins
of the Universe” and expects you to see all sorts of deep philosophy
in it… and if you don’t, then you must be a stupid, uneducated
idiot.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” The Doctor said. He thought
she had summed it all up very well. “But the Rhekans aren’t
like that. They just love to create weird and wonderful things for the
joy of it.”
“And is this why we came? To look at the sculptures?”
“Not just that, though I thought you might like it. We’re
going to the Rhekan university. There is a rather important guest lecture
tonight by the foremost expert in the saga poems of Rhekan III.”
“Who’s that then?” Susan asked.
“Me,” The Doctor answered with a grin.
“What? You’re an expert on poetry?”
“Since you ask, yes.”
“Since when? I’ve never heard you recite a poem.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t, does it?”
“Well, no, but… So how come you’re an expert in them?”
“Spent a summer vacation on Rhekan V when I was a student. The sagas
are quite fascinating. They….”
“The Saga Poems of Rhekan V….” Ric again whirred into
action but The Doctor nudged him with his toe.
“I’m the expert in THIS field,” he said. “I’m
telling it my way.” He began to explain the Sagas to Susan, a collection
of ten poems that were as long, in total, as the Old Testament of the
Earth Bible and told of the adventures of ten different ancient heroes
of Rhekan whose exploits would have had the Disney Corporation begging
for the rights to turn them into animated feature films, complete with
the Happy Meal hero toy spin offs.
“Not while I have breath in my body!” The Doctor remarked
when Susan suggested the idea. She laughed and agreed with him that it
would be sacrilege to turn such a work of great literature into a Disney
brand. She let him talk at length again about the poems. It was nice to
hear his voice when he was enthusiastic about something. She realised
as she listened that The Doctor as an expert on the literature of an alien
planet wasn’t such a strange idea as she had thought it was. He
was an expert in just about everything as far as she could see.
Watching him give a university lecture on any subject would be a treat.
“That one is a BIT more realistic,” Susan said as she saw
a sculpture by the gate that marked the boundary of the park. It was an
androgynous humanoid about seven feet tall. It was several shades of purple
and white and it had its arms folded over its chest. It looked as if it
was waiting patiently.
The sculpture moved and Susan suppressed a scream of fright as she realised
it WASN’T a sculpture but a living being.
“Illiana!” The Doctor cried and reached out a hand to shake.
The being called Illiana smiled broadly as he or she reciprocated. He
– or she - was wearing an all in one suit that even covered the
face apart from eyes, nostrils and mouth. The texture of the fabric was
like chunky knitting, she thought.
“Doctor,” Illiana replied in a feminine voice that solved
the question Susan had been trying to work out. “It is delightful
to see you again. And who is your companion?”
“This is Susan,” he replied. Illiana inclined her head as
she reached to shake Susan’s hand. Susan looked up to make eye contact.
“You are welcome to Rhekan. Any friend of The Doctor will ALWAYS
be welcome on Rhekan. He is an honoured guest here whenever he visits.”
“Is he?”
“Indeed he is. The Doctor is a very clever man.”
There was transport awaiting them. They settled in the back of what looked
like a sleek speed boat on dry land and The Doctor made sure their seatbelts
were firmly secured. Ric hovered by their feet. Susan was only a little
disturbed when a roof slid up and over them. The ‘boat’ rose
up into the air and then darted away.
It was fast, but not so fast as they couldn’t see the land below.
There was a lot of red-brown in the landscape. She noticed there were
several more of the sculpture parks. They dominated the landscape. She
remembered what Ric had said about art being compulsory and wondered if
they would ever run out of room for all the sculptures.
Between the parks most of the land was red-brown desert.
Not an especially fertile world, Susan thought.
“Rhekan IV has nothing else on it but sculpture parks and the university,”
The Doctor told her. “Nothing grows here. I have always been of
the opinion that all it needs is some careful irrigation projects. There
IS plenty of fresh water. But they have never tried to make it viable.
They prefer to dedicate the planet to education. The students come from
the other four planets in the Rhekan system.”
“Well, I suppose it’s a way of doing it.”
“It’s not how I’d do it,” The Doctor said. “A
whole planet producing nothing but abstract art? Rhekan II and III especially
were badly over-populated when I was here last and they really ought to
be producing more food. But it’s the way they have always done it,
and it’s not for me to tell them otherwise.”
The university was impressive, no doubt about that. It was the sort of
place Susan imagined when people talked of universities as ivory towers.
It really DID have a white tower that rose up into the sky in the centre
and different wings of it spiralled out between lawns of the red-brown
grass and pools of cool water.
The craft landed on the roof of the reception hall and Illiana brought
them through white-walled corridors to a hospitality room with a view
over one of the fertile patches where crops grew. She offered them a drink
that was a little like coffee and told them she would be back shortly.
“So when WERE you here last?” Susan asked him as she looked
out of the window and drank the drink that was a little like coffee.
“Oh, about two hundred years ago,” The Doctor answered. “I
spent a couple of years as a teacher at the university here. The Rhekans
are delightful people. So eager to learn.”
“Two hundred years?” Susan thought about it for a while. “So…
wait a minute. So how come Illiana recognised you? Didn’t you change?”
“Several times. That would have been. Oooh… my seventh incarnation.”
He laughed softly. “I looked more LIKE a university professor then.
Middle aged, tweedy sort of look. Wore a hat. Never wear hats these days.
Still got the hatstand. But never wear hats.”
Susan recognised the signs of him wandering off into a meaningless verbal
meander.
“Yes, but, how come she recognised you? And come to think of it,
SHE doesn’t look two hundred years old. It IS just your sort who
can regenerate isn’t it?”
“The recognition thing is Power of Suggestion. Like a mild hypnosis.
I just put it in her mind that this is how I always looked. As for her…
You know, that’s a very good point. Something IS a bit odd there.”
“Trouble?”
“Maybe not. These are good, decent people. They love learning, art,
literature, pure sciences. I cannot believe there is anything sinister
happening.”
“I hope not,” Susan agreed. “This DOES seem to be a
lovely place. Even if most of it IS desert.”
“A lot of my planet was desert, too. But it was still beautiful.”
The Doctor smiled a sad smile as his memory drifted to his lost homeworld.
Again that was something she had come to expect from him. When he thought
about Gallifrey he always had that expression.
But the moment passed and when Illiana returned to the hospitality room
she told them she had been assigned to take them to see the University
Chancellery.
“We’re really getting the VIP treatment,” Susan remarked
as they were invited to sit in a sort of hover-train that moved along
a ‘track’ in the centre of the wide corridor. Again Ric took
his place by their feet like a pet dog. The Doctor looked content as they
moved at a gentle pace through the corridors and up several turbo lift
shafts until they reached the executive suite. The university was very
beautiful and very neat and tidy. He was reminded very much of his own
alma mater, the Prydonian Academy. Strange that he was never especially
happy when he was a student there, but he remembered back to those years
with fondness, not so much for the interaction with the vast majority
of the other students, but for the joy of learning for the sake of learning.
He loved discovering new things, gaining fresh understanding of new disciplines
and new areas of expertise.
He wondered if there would ever come a time when there was nothing left
to learn.
Possibly when he was dead.
And maybe not even then.
He learnt something new when they reached the Chancellery.
“That’s in charge of the university?” Susan stood against
the railing of the balcony and looked across the wide, circular floor
to the huge computer databank that covered a half-circle of wall opposite,
rising up like a great church organ into the high roof of the tall room.
There was a pointed roof above it, made of some kind of opaque crystal
glass. She guessed this was the top of the great tower in the middle of
the university complex.
“That is the Arch-Chancellor,” Illiana said. “He is
the most advanced computer in the galaxy and is programmed to organise
every function of every department of the university. It determines how
many students will be energised to participate in lectures and tutorials
at any time. Your lecture is going to be a very big occasion. Many thousands
of the students will be in attendance.”
“Where ARE the students anyway?” Susan asked. “This
is a VERY quiet university.”
“They will be energized for the lecture,” Illiana informed
them. “And the tutorial afterwards. To meet an eminent man like
The Doctor is a once in a decade opportunity for us all.”
“Well,” The Doctor said with a grin. “Good job I DON’T
still wear hats. All these compliments….”
“Yes, you’re a very big man on Rhekan,” Susan answered
him. “But Doctor, don’t you think it’s odd, too? I mean
what DOES energised mean? Do they all get a complimentary bottle of Red
Bull to keep them awake when you’re talking or do they run on Duracells
or something?”
“Yes,” The Doctor said. “Yes, it is odd. Illiana, what’s
the story? The last time I was here this place was teeming. Is it a semester
break?”
“No,” Illiana answered. “They are all here.” She
stood up very straight and spoke out loud. “Arch-Chancellor, The
Doctor and his companion wish to see the students. Will you grant him
permission?”
“Of course.” A voice answered, apparently coming from the
walls. It was a deep, educated voice such as Susan expected a university
chancellor would have. It was the computer’s voice. “The Doctor
is an honoured guest of Rhekan University. He is to be allowed to see
EVERYTHING he asks to see.”
“Thank you, Arch-Chancellor,” Illiana responded. There was
a faint hum and lights blinked on and off all over the server unit. Then
the floor between them and the computerised Arch-Chancellor opened up.
Susan gasped as she stared down.
“There must be thousands of them,” she managed to say.
“Hundreds of thousands,” The Doctor added. “About half
a million I’d estimate.
“Five hundred and ninety five thousand, seven hundred and seven,”
Ric said. “That is how many life support units I have detected in
the cryogenic facility.”
“You mean you have more than a half a million students here, cryogenically
frozen?”
“What?” Susan understood the word cryogenic even though it
was a word used mostly in science fiction in her day. She took Ric and
The Doctor’s word for it that there were that many there. She could
certainly see rows upon rows of what looked like coffins with people inside.
She could see that they extended all the way down the inside of the tower
and, she guessed, for a long way underground, too. Above ground the tower
was a sort of translucent white as if made of a substance that let through
natural light. But below the walls were dark and the rows were illuminated
by a green light that came from the bottom of the tower far below.
“WHY?” she asked.
“I was just about to ask that very question,” The Doctor said.
“WHY?”
“Famine,” Illiana said. “Not long after your last visit
to us, Doctor, there was a great famine throughout the Rhekan system.
Crops failed three harvests in a row. People were beginning to die. Our
government made a decision. They reasoned that the most academically gifted
of our people were the least productive and should be cryogenically preserved
to be revived when the food stocks were recovered. In the meantime, they
learn continuously. The Arch-Chancellor provides educational programmes
that are directly fed into their brains as they sleep. They require only
minimal sustenance. Groups of 20,000 at a time are energised every six
months to sit their examinations, and from time to time we have special
lectures such as you are here to give. The students to be energised are
chosen by lottery. The others will have the lecture transmitted to them
by the arch-chancellor.”
“I see….” The Doctor said very slowly. He looked at
Illiana, then at Susan, and finally at the arch-chancellor super-computer.
Then he turned and walked away. Susan was a moment or two more looking
down at the phenomenal sight of the huge cryogenic chamber, then she turned
to follow him. Ric whirred along beside her.
She found him standing by the lift shaft, leaning his head against the
cool white wall.
“Doctor?”
“Shada,” he said. “It was the prison planet of my world.
The prisoners were kept in cryogenic chambers for thousands of years,
sometimes. Our scientists concluded after much research that the prisoners’
brains continued to work at a very low level even in cryogenic state.
In other words, they were aware at a basic level, that they were in prison
for thousands of years. Our scientists concluded that, should any of those
long term prisoners be revived, they would most likely have gone mad from
the trauma.”
“But these students….”
“Are innocent young people, subjected to something WE considered
a punishment for the most heinous of crimes.”
“But they’re learning as they sleep. They’re not just
going slowly mad. They’re even going to hear your lecture.”
“I’m not going to give a lecture,” The Doctor told her.
“Not under THESE circumstances.”
“But Doctor.…” He looked around as Illiana came into
the room. “You have no idea how much we have looked forward to your
visit. All of us. When I was chosen to greet you, I was so thrilled. It
means so much more to me than just a chance to be energised before everyone
else.”
“YOU were also cryogenically frozen? The teachers…”
“Yes,” she answered. “We, too, are taken out of the
chambers in rotation. Who would supervise the examinations?”
“Who, indeed,” The Doctor mused. “But Illiana…
such a terrible.…”
“But it isn’t terrible. It is quite pleasurable. The body
and mind knows such perfect peace. I chose to develop my knowledge of
music in my last period of the chamber. And when I woke, I felt as if
I could sing forever.”
“That does sound a bit different to what happened to the prisoners,”
Susan added. “Doctor, you must give the lecture. Otherwise you will
disappoint so many of them who won’t have the chance to be revived
at all.”
“You think I should do it for them?”
“Yes,” Susan told him.
“Please,” Illiana begged.
“Ric, what do you think?” The Doctor asked. “Seeing
as it seems to be coming down to a vote.”
“You came here to give a lecture, master,” Ric said. “Not
to do so would be illogical and non-productive.
“I’m not sure logic has anything to do with it.” The
Doctor looked around at them all again. “Ok, but I want my TARDIS
brought here. I need to check some things in the database. And I want
absolutely as many students as possible revived. Open up all the lecture
theatres, all the classrooms, have the lecture relayed by video. I want
as many living, breathing, walking students in this place as it can hold.”
“I… will pass your requests on to the Arch-Chancellor,”
Illiana said.
“No,” The Doctor told her. “You will pass my non-negotiable
TERMS to the Arch-Chancellor. He might be the smartest artificial brain
in the galaxy, but I’m The Doctor and I’m the smartest LIVING
brain he’s ever going to meet.”
Meanwhile, he really DID want his TARDIS. He had not been especially happy
about leaving it in the sculpture park. He felt vulnerable without it.
Illiana made the same transport available to him, but he took over the
driving. The hover-train that was internal transport within the university
whirred noisily as he pushed the throttle forward and made it run at something
considerably faster than walking speed, and when they reached the hover
car on the reception roof he slid into the driver’s seat, warning
Susan to buckle up.
“Ric, you stay here with Illiana and keep an eye on things,”
he told his other companion.
“I will keep a laser sight on ‘things’,” Ric corrected
him phlegmatically. The Doctor grinned. Marius’s creations were
always annoyingly pedantic and he wouldn’t have them any other way.
“I love flying,” The Doctor said as the hover car rose vertically
and Susan thought her stomach had stayed below. “Used to do a lot
more of it, you know. In my third incarnation, when I was exiled to Earth
in the 1970s, there was a rash of UFO sightings around southern England.
Most of them… ninety-nine percent of therm… were ME in my
flying car. Some day I must get on to U.N.I.T. and ask them what they
did with it. I’d like it back.”
Susan smiled and wondered what the one percent of UFO sightings that weren’t
The Doctor’s ‘flying car’ might have been.
“Aliens, obviously,” he replied even though she hadn’t
asked the question. “I dealt with them, of course. And the dinosaurs
in London and the poor old Loch Ness monster.”
“What did you do to the Loch Ness Monster?” Susan asked. “And
bear in mind, I’m only asking to take my mind off your flying.”
“Sent her home to the Loch,” he answered. “She was no
trouble to anyone. It was the aliens who wanted to use her for the old
‘take over the world’ routine that were the problem. And what’s
wrong with my flying?”
Susan didn’t reply. The Doctor cheerfully told her that the TARDIS
was dead ahead. She still didn’t reply. He smiled and landed the
craft. Susan unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out, breathing deeply.
The Doctor moved nearly as quickly to open the TARDIS door. By the time
Susan came inside he had the console fired up ready to move the TARDIS
to the university. He was also studying the computer database very intently.
Susan watched his eyes flicker as he took in several thousand pages of
information in a few minutes.
“You really are a match for any computer, aren’t you,”
she told him.
“Oh, MORE than a match,” he replied with a grin. “Are
you feeling better now?”
“Yes, Doctor, but please make this a GENTLE TARDIS trip back to
the university.”
“It will be,” he answered. “But I’m not going
back directly. There are a couple of things I want to have a look at first.
Why don’t you grab yourself a sandwich in the kitchen. It’s
WAY past teatime.”
“I am hungry,” she admitted. “But the idea of making
myself a sandwich after all that talk about famine.…”
“There’s no famine,” he answered. “If there ever
WAS a famine, it is long resolved.”
“IF?”
“There are very few TRUE famines caused by actual lack of food.
Most of the ones you know of in the history of your world were caused
primarily by politics. It’s the same the universe over. Time and
again people have starved to death while food or resources with which
to purchase food were being exported.”
The Doctor’s eyes glittered as he spoke. There was a deep, suppressed
anger beneath that paragraph about economic realities.
“The reason my own Susan and I first set out from our homeworld
was to try to make a difference in the universe, to right its wrongs.
I tried so hard. But it’s such a big universe and there are so many
stupid, stupid things wrong that don’t even HAVE to be. And I think
this is ONE of those.”
“Can you make it right?”
“Yes,” he said. “I think I can. Or at least I can help
them make it right for themselves. If I’m right about what is happening,
anyway.”
“Well, then,” Susan said. “I’ll go make us BOTH
a sandwich while you do what you have to do.”
He did what he had to do. What he found pleased him in one way, because
he liked to be proved RIGHT. But at the same time it dismayed him because
it proved once again that Human beings, possibly the most exasperating
race in the universe – or second most exasperating if he counted
his own people – were not alone in their capacity for stupid and
unnecessary cruelty to each other.
For once it would have been NICE to be proved wrong.
He materialised the TARDIS on the balcony opposite the Arch-Chancellor.
Ric and Illiana were waiting.
“It is almost time to energise the chosen students,” she said.
“The Arch-Chancellor has agreed to the extra numbers on this special
occasion. I must go to meet them as they are revived. They will be given
a meal. Rations have been made available. The lecture is scheduled for
two hours time.”
“Two hours is more than enough time for me to get ready. Susan,
why don’t you go with Illiana and greet the students. A friendly
face is just what they need. That and a good hot cup of tea. Plenty of
sugar.”
He had a strong feeling hot cups of tea were not included in the rationing,
but he had to trust that Illiana and those of the faculty who would be
thawed out with the students could handle that side of things. He had
his own work to do.
“Arch-Chancellor,” he said, standing and looking at the great
computer. “You and I need to talk, don’t we.”
“We do indeed,” the computer replied. “That is why I
extended the invitation to you. I knew if anyone could help my students,
The Doctor could.”
The Doctor allowed himself just a few seconds of utter smugness. He knew
he had a reputation among many species of the universe as an all round
good guy, but this was the first computer to put its faith in him.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked.
The computer told him. He nodded in understanding. Yes, computers could
teach. Computers could learn. This one had been programmed to teach and
to protect the students. Somewhere along the line it had learned to love
them, and to worry about what the future held for them.
It was taking care of them within its programming.
But it was still a computer. And a computer couldn’t break its own
programming.
That was where a brain like his came in.
“Ric,” he said. “Do you understand what you have to
do?”
“Affirmative, master,” Ric said with a soft sound as his hoverpads
raised him off the ground. He hovered over to the great computer and plugged
himself into the external port that extended itself towards him.
“Good boy, Ric,” he said as he turned away.
“You look like a total geek,” Susan told The Doctor as he
emerged from the TARDIS in a deep purple academic gown over his suit.
“Cool sort of geek, but still a geek.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” he agreed with a grin. “Are
you ready?”
“For a two hour lecture on a bunch of poetry I have never read?”
Susan laughed. “For YOU, I will try to stay awake. I wouldn’t
do it for anyone else.”
“The students are glad to be awake for me,” he answered.
“Yeah, they would be. It was really creepy, you know - watching
them. The ones that were selected for ‘energising’, the chambers
are on sort of hydraulics. They pop out from the rows and the doors open,
and they wake up. I was down at the very bottom with Illiana. Looking
at them all, the way one was chosen, then a whole row of them left.…
There was one guy… he was really upset because his girlfriend wasn’t
one of the ones who was revived. He wanted a chance to spend a bit of
time with her. Can you imagine.… I mean I was missing Miche so much,
but at least I’m awake and alive, and I have more than a few hours
every couple of decades to be with him. And you and Dominique always know
how much you love each other. But these people…. It’s a horrible
way to live, even if it WAS a good idea at the time.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to do what I can,”
he promised her. “They’re going to get a lecture that they
will never forget.”
“You mean this isn’t just.…”
“Stay awake and you might find out,” he told her with a grin
as he put on an old fashioned mortar board hat that made him look even
more like a geek and swept down the corridor to the main lecture theatre.
As he walked out onto the podium and looked around at the thousands of
students looking back at him in rows upon rows he really did feel nervous.
Strange that he should be. In most respects he was the universe’s
biggest show off who loved an audience and a chance to prove how clever
he was. But standing on a stage, with so many people waiting for him to
speak to them gave him a dry mouth and butterflies in his stomach.
He took a sip of the water glass that was set there for him then pressed
the button that started the autocue and the synchronised visual presentation
on a big screen behind him.
At least that was the idea. But the pictures he was showing had nothing
to do with saga poems and he was not taking any notice of the autocue.
“How many of you lot are literature majors?” He asked, scanning
the crowd. He cupped his hand to his ear. “Come on, speak up,”
he encouraged them. Somewhere in the very highest tier of seats a few
people waved. “So why are the rest of you here? Why should you want
to listen to me talk for two hours about a bunch of ancient poems?”
There was a murmur around the hall. This wasn’t exactly what they
were expecting.
“Don’t get me wrong. These are brilliant poems, and maybe
some time I’ll come back and give you that lecture. But tonight
I’m going to talk about something more important to you all.”
He paused for breath, and a little more for effect. Then he glanced at
the picture on the screen behind him.
“I want to talk about history tonight. The history of a planetary
system that was doing ok for itself, by and large, except that it was
producing far less food than it had people to feed and its exportable
resources were only just covering the shortfall. Then the crops failed
several years in succession. Disaster of a terrible kind faced the people.
And the government took a very drastic decision. They could only feed
the people who were directly involved in production. So they put their
academic population, students and teachers, alike, all into cryogenic
storage. They did it because they valued them, because when the crisis
was over they would have a need again for artists and poets, writers,
thinking people. So they put them in a safe place and they put the great
Arch-Chancellor computer in charge of nurturing their minds while they
used their precious food resources to nurture the bodies of the people
who worked and produced food, and produced the goods they sold offworld
to buy more food. And they waited for things to get better.”
He paused as the students took in the images on the screen of the first
batch of students going into the cryogenic chambers. There were mutterings
and murmurs among his audience as they remembered when it was their turn.
“Things DID get better. The foodstocks recovered. It took quite
a while, twenty years or more. But by then, the government had come to
realise something. All the brightest and smartest people were in cryogenic
sleep and what they had left was the working masses, people who did as
they were told, and did it without complaining, because they were people
without ambition and ideas who didn’t strive for anything else.
A controllable people. A people who FORGOT about their students and teachers
in their cryogenic chambers. The Arch-Chancellor continued to look after
them. He did what he was programmed to do. He taught them the lessons
in his databanks. He revived them in turn to take their exams, to build
their compulsory pieces of abstract art that their minds had dreamed slowly
for years, and then to go back to sleep again for another couple of decades.
Which brings me to a question. Does anyone know how long they have been
asleep?” He stepped off the podium and walked along the front row
of students, repeating the question to them. They answered with guesses
in the range of twenty years – that one he expected, since he had
fed that figure to them before – to forty, fifty, even a hundred
years. He nodded and walked back to the podium. On screen a rather flashy
graphic showed the years running by at a superfast speed, the planets
of the Rhekan system spinning away the years. When the final figure, the
current date, flashed in big letters on the screen, there was more than
a murmur. There was an outcry.
Two thousand years had passed.
Even The Doctor had been surprised when he checked what he had found against
the TARDIS’s records. He hadn’t visited Rhekan for two hundred
of his personal years, but he was a time traveller and he had returned
far, far later than he himself had even realised.
Some of the students began to cry. Others shouted in dismay, disbelief,
anger. He waited for them to settle.
“That’s only half the story. Two thousand years ago, Rhekan
was an overpopulated technological society. But without young people with
new ideas, without universities turning out technicians and scientists,
and even writers and poets, the society ground to a halt. It stagnated
socially and technologically. And then it went into reverse. Society slowly
decayed, broke down altogether. There were several very terrible wars.
Rhekan I and Rhekan II were both completely wiped out by chemical warfare,
and on the two remaining populated planets what is euphemistically called
conventional warfare further decimated the population.”
On screen pictures appeared of the current population of Rhekan III and
Rhekan IV. Small, isolated villages of subsistence farmers just managing
to hang on from harvest to harvest.
“That was the state of affairs two hundred years ago. Then another
famine struck. And now…”
On the screen, data gathered a few hours ago by the TARDIS. It showed
that Rhekan III and IV were now completely uninhabited.
“You have two planets there that are new Edens. You can begin again.
You can get it right. You and your friends, when we can get the rest of
them energised, have a hard struggle, but you are the brightest and best
of your people. You have been learning for two thousand years. You are
ready.”
“We’re not ready,” somebody protested.
“Yes, you are,” The Doctor replied. “You’re scared,
I know. But you can do it. The Arch-Chancellor has made sure you can.
HE worked it out long ago. He knew that you’d all been forgotten.
He knew that being able to make beautiful if exotic sculptures or understand
the saga poems would not be any use to you. So he began to teach you agricultural
science, architecture, engineering, political science, economics, the
skills you need to build your new world, literally and figuratively. What
he couldn’t do was break his programming. He couldn’t get
you or himself out of the cycle that you have been in all that time. That’s
why he brought me here. To break the programme. And that’s what
I’m doing.”
There was a silence for a long moment as he stopped speaking, then the
cheering began as the students realised that they had been freed from
a prison they didn’t even know they had been in until The Doctor
told them about it. As he turned and left the stage, Susan caught up with
him.
“Oh, I’m so proud of you,” she told him. “You’ve
saved them all. They can all be woken up now. That boy and his girlfriend
can be together. All the others.…”
“It wasn’t me,” The Doctor answered her modestly. “It
was a computer that learnt to love the students it was programmed to teach
and wanted to help them.”
Of course, it wouldn’t happen overnight, The Doctor realised. Half
a million people could not be revived all at once. The first of them would
have to prepare the ground for the others. It would be years, perhaps,
before the last of them could be revived. Until then, the Arch-Chancellor
was needed to look after them as he had been doing for those two millennia.
And so was Ric. He was providing the Arch-Chancellor with an important
new programme. It was he who was selecting the best candidates for reviving.
“Ric,” The Doctor said as he approached the Arch-Chancellor
and his new assistant. “I’ve got a new list here. These are
people who are close friends or relatives of the ones already revived.
They should be next so that these people can start rebuilding relationships.
That’s the most important thing for them in these early years of
their new lives.” He slotted the memory chip into Ric’s drive
and he whirred into action.
“Affirmative, Master-Doctor,” Ric said. “I will begin
processing these graduates immediately.”
“Graduates?” The Doctor smiled. “So they all passed
their exams then? I suppose they should after two thousand years of education.
Some of them must be nearly as smart as me by now.”
“I have never measured your IQ, Master-Doctor,” Ric replied.
“You know, we never sorted out this Master-Doctor thing,”
he said. “I suppose there’s not much point now. Are you going
to stay here and work with the Arch-Chancellor for the good of the students?”
“Affirmative, Master-Doctor. I have a purpose here. Estimate it
will take at least twenty years to revive all of the students. By which
time the first wave will have children of their own who will need to be
educated. There is work for me to do here.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll miss you, Ric. It
was nice having you around the TARDIS.”
“But you had no use for me,” he argued. “You took me
with you out of loyalty to Professor Marius.”
“Are you analysing my motives?” The Doctor asked with a laugh.
“You’re an intelligent radiator. What do you know?”
Ric made a noise that could have been a laugh. To his surprise, the Arch-Chancellor
laughed, too. The computers were laughing with him.