“Why, in the name of Chaos, did anyone choose to live on this insane
planet?” Paracell Hext complained as Chrístõ drove
the all terrain land car across a barren, rocky and uneven surface that
was actually marked on the maps as a road. It had been recognisable as
one a few miles back, but now it was impossible to tell it apart from
the barren plain around it and they would have been hopelessly lost without
satnav.
“Humans chose it because it was the first planet they reached outside
of their own solar system,” Chrístõ answered him.
“Proxima Centauri, named after the star it orbits, the closest star
to Earth. When they arrived here it was a fantastic achievement for them.”
Hext could have said something cutting about Humans and their achievements
as conquerors of space, but out of respect for his companion he didn’t.
“It was not a success,” Chrístõ added. “Proxima
Centauri is tidal locked to its star. There is no day or night, only a
permanently dark side and a permanent day – this being the daylight
side. Humans hated living in a place where they couldn’t measure
their lives by a cycle of day and night. And they didn’t like red
skies except at sunset and sunrise. As soon as they were allowed, most
of them moved on from here to more suitable colony systems like Beta Delta.
But about fifty thousand of them stuck it out here.”
The eerie red sky was darker than usual because something like a quarter
of it, in the direction they were headed, was covered by an ash cloud
from an active volcano. The colour of the underside of the cloud was an
angry dark crimson. Lightning caused by the micro-weather system within
the cloud forked down from it periodically. The volcano itself loomed
ever larger by the minute.
Driving TOWARDS such a thing seemed like an insane thing to do. It probably
was. But they had a mission.
“So that explains why HUMANS would live here,” Hext said.
“They’re stubborn and persistent and they would never admit
they were wrong to establish their first deep space colony here. But then
WHY in a million years would a Time Lord want to live here?”
It was a rhetorical question. He wasn’t expecting an answer. The
Time Lord in question was a fugitive who had disappeared from Gallifrey
during the Mallus invasion. The craft he escaped in had been thrown back
in time through a freak time ribbon and he had subsequently lived on Proxima
for a century, almost as long as humans had lived there. Since he only
became a wanted man when his timeline caught up with his disappearance
from Gallifrey, he had done so in relative peace. But justice, in the
form of Paracell Hext, director of the Celestial Intervention Agency,
and Chrístõ de Lœngbærrow, who he invariably called
upon when his missions involved Human planets, was on its way. They had
an extradition warrant signed by the Lord High President and orders to
take whatever measures were necessary to bring this wanted criminal back
to Gallifrey.
“This is what I find hard to believe,” Hext commented, looking
at the datafile on his hand held computer. “According to the Proxima
Centauri census and tax records, Destri has been married for the past
twenty-five years.”
“Why is that unusual?” Chrístõ asked. “He
made himself a normal life here, thinking he was safe from discovery.”
“He is married to a man called Peter Alden.”
“Everywhere else in the galaxy except Gallifrey they have a word
for that. And in most Human communities, except for a few ultra religious
ones, it is socially acceptable.”
“I know that,” Hext answered. “I’ve seen enough
of the cosmos to realise there ARE other ways of life than ours. But I
never imagined a Time Lord would... it’s not our way.”
Chrístõ thought briefly of his old friend, Kohb, and his
very intense and unique relationship with the gendermorph Cam Dey Greibella.
Kohb loved both the classically handsome Cam and the stunningly gorgeous
Camilla equally, but Chrístõ had never actually asked what
permutation he usually went to bed with.
“Actually, there was a phase when I thought you fancied me that
way,” he told Hext with a sly grin. “After Liberation... when
we were working together for so long... Then you invited me to the tower
for dinner that time... I really did wonder if you were going to ask me
to stay the night...”
Hext laughed.
“I wondered the same about you, back then. I thought it was because
of your Human side... the over-emotional tendency of your mixed blood.
And you have spent more time with gendermorphs. To say nothing of your
close relationship with the Emperor of Adano-Ambrado, who I’ve never
been quite sure about, even though he’s of pure Gallifreyan blood.
Those baths of his...”
“Penne is a shameless rogue,” Chrístõ pointed
out. “But he’s never actually made a pass at me. As much as
I love him, I’d break his arm if he tried. As for you... you still
invited me to dinner. You must have been a bit tempted,”
“Call it curious,” Hext managed to say. “If you’d
actually made any kind of move... I would have had to break BOTH your
arms.”
“Same goes for you,” Chrístõ answered him. “I
think that proves that Time Lords are just as prone to such tendencies
as any other species. But we got through our youthful curious stage in
the course of one dinner date and then settled down with women. Destri...
must have been more than just curious. But so what? They’ve been
together twenty five years. That’s about as long as my parents were
married. In Human terms that’s a solid relationship. Good for them.”
“Not so good since we’re here to bring Destri back to Gallifrey,”
Hext said. “He was sentenced long before we were born to live out
his natural existence in internal exile on an isolated island in the Great
Ocean. He wasn’t supposed to have a husband with him to make the
exile tolerable. It’s our job to split them up.”
“And he must know that,” Chrístõ pointed out.
“If we’re going to do this.., we’d better get on with
it. Before he runs or...”
“Kills us both and dumps our bodies in the path of that volcano.”
“I don’t think he would do that,” Chrístõ
argued. “He’s a Time Lord. It would be dishonourable to...”
“Chrístõ, you’re too innocent for this work,”
Hext told him. “Destri betrayed the Time Lord concept of honour
when your father was your age. Don’t you know what he did?”
“Yes, I do,” he answered. “I read the file. But my father
told me some more about him. He was one of the few people who had contact
with him in his exile. My father told me that Destri isn’t a man
to be feared... and that we would not have any trouble bringing him in
if we treated him with respect.”
“Your father is a man whose opinion I value,” Hext observed.
“But in this instance... No, I must use my own judgement.”
Chrístõ had some more thoughts about that, but he kept them
to himself. Besides, the ‘road’ was badly broken up now and
driving was difficult. The volcano currently causing problems had obviously
been active before. The craters in the road and the erratic lumps of solidified
lava were testament to that. Indeed, the instability of the region was
the reason why they were approaching in this manner. As well as the usual
problems of ash clouds, falling debris and rivers of lava, the volcano
caused ionic disruption in the atmosphere that seriously disrupted TARDIS
navigation. They had been forced to leave Hext’s time machine in
the protected habitat of Proxima City VIII, one hundred and fifty miles
back, and make the last part of the journey this way. They had a portable
stasis chamber and a small arsenal of weapons with them on the assumption
that Destri would not come quietly. Chrístõ was not looking
forward to the return journey with their prisoner incarcerated in the
back of the car.
That is if they ever made the return journey. He looked at the volcano
with trepidation. It was still at the stage of producing copious amounts
of ash and flying pumice. But that was the preliminary stage before the
lava flows that would make this area completely inimical to any organic
life.
The compound of low, single storey wooden buildings surrounded by a wire
fence looked as if it was the only place where organic life still existed.
And even that was uncertain. Chrístõ drove through the open
gate, wondering if it actually had been abandoned already. Their man might
well have fled the volcano along with the Human residents. If so, finding
him again was going to be difficult.
It wasn’t deserted. Hext exclaimed in surprise to see a gaggle of
rather poorly dressed children sitting on the wooden veranda of a larger
building marked with an old fashioned Red Cross symbol. As the car approached,
a man ran out of the building and dangerously stepped in their path, raising
his hand to persuade them to stop.
Chrístõ braked and unbuckled his seatbelt. Hext’s
hand reached first to check the pistol in his pocket.
“There are children here,” Chrístõ pointed out.
“Keep the gun out of the way. What is this place, anyway?”
“Who in the name of Chaos are you?” the man asked when Chrístõ
jumped out of the car. “Who would come to the back end of hell just
as it is about to spew fire?”
Chrístõ was about to answer the question when Hext got out
of the car and raised his pistol despite his injunction.
“I am Paracell Hext, director of the Celestial Intervention Agency,”
he said. “And you are under arrest, RubenGreyheartfelldaren de Argenlunna,
AKA Destri, as a fugitive from Gallifreyan justice.”
“It’s him?” Chrístõ glanced at Hext then
back at the man. “It’s THAT easy?”
The man who called himself Destri for reasons not explained in the CIA
file didn’t blink as he looked down the barrel of Hext’s gun.
He certainly didn’t look scared.
Which just might have been because of the other man who stepped out of
the Red Cross building with a laser rifle that he sighted first on Hext’s
skull, then Chrístõ’s. When he indicated by his open
hands that he was not armed the red line of the sight swung back to Hext
again.
“I don’t know who you are,” the other man said. “And
I don’t care. You have a vehicle with a working engine. I have fifty
people to evacuate and a bus that needs spare parts. So just step over
there and be quiet and you can come with us when we move out. Any trouble
and we’ll leave you to walk. That’s if you can walk faster
than lava.”
“I’m faster than you,” Hext remarked coolly. “I
could shoot you both before you can pull the trigger.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chrístõ intervened.
“Nobody is shooting anybody. Hext, I told you we don’t need
to do it this way. Put down your gun. And you... whoever you are. Do you
intend to commit murder in front of these children?”
“No, he doesn’t,” the man Hext had identified as Destri
said. “Peter, do as he says. This is not the time or the place.
You, too, young man. I have no intention of running from you. I have responsibilities
here.”
Both men lowered their guns, but the tension between them remained. Nobody
moved from their positions for a long, drawn out interlude that was broken
at last only by a loud explosion from the volcano. Destri didn’t
flinch, but Peter Alden glanced up at the mountain nervously and the children
squealed and ran. One of them cannoned into Chrístõ who
bent and looked at the little boy briefly before he struggled out of his
grasp and ran into the Red Cross building.
“When you say you have fifty people here,” Chrístõ
said to Destri. “Do you mean fifty of these children? Are you the
only adults here?”
“We are now. There were never very many people interested in Maylor
children. Most of those employed to help lived in the nearby village and
have gone already.”
“Then our mission can wait. You said the engine of our vehicle would
provide parts for yours. Do it. Hext, don’t look at me like that.
I told you, my father believes he is a man of honour. Besides, I can’t
drive away and leave these children to their fate even if you can.”
Hext sighed and shrugged, indicating that he was giving in to the inevitable.
“Destri... you are under my parole,” he said. “Once
these children are safe, I am taking you back to Gallifrey. If I have
to chase you to do so, it will go hard with you. It would not be the first
time the director of the CIA has had you tortured at his convenience.”
Destri said nothing out loud, though something may have passed between
them telepathically. Chrístõ didn’t notice. He was
watching the volcano.
“Ruben,” Peter said in urgent tones. “If we stand a
chance of getting the bus fixed and getting away from here before Sun
Flare, we have to get on with the repairs.”
“Stop wasting time,” Chrístõ said. “Show
me these buses. Hext, help them get the children ready, with whatever
they’re bringing with them.”
Chrístõ got back into the car. Destri himself got into the
passenger seat and directed him to the place in the complex where the
two buses were kept. He was relieved to see that the vehicles were under
a roof and in good condition. He was half expecting a pair of rusting
old charabancs choked up with volcano ash.
“What do you need from this engine?” he asked as he opened
the bonnet and pulled out his sonic screwdriver.
“Fan belt and radiator,” Destri answered. Chrístõ
glanced at the offroad SUV and then at the bus and frowned.
“It’s highly unlikely that they’re compatible,”
he said. “The bus engine has to be bigger, surely?”
“Not on Proxima,” Destri told him. “Here, there is one
standard engine size for all vehicles, from trucks and buses to tractors
and utility vehicles. Nobody is prepared to import spares to different
specifications.”
“Well, that’s fortunate.” Chrístõ began
to unfasten the radiator using his sonic screwdriver which made it a little
easier than with conventional tools. “This is a hired vehicle, you
know. We’re going to lose our deposit when we don’t bring
it back.”
Destri looked at him anxiously for a moment until Chrístõ
grinned widely.
“The High Council of Gallifrey are paying all our expenses,”
he said. “I think you might as well enjoy the irony of that.”
Destri smiled as he took hold of the radiator and watched Chrístõ
equally expertly detach the fan belt from the hired car. They transferred
them to the stricken bus and began the second part of the mechanical transplant
operation.
“You said to your friend that your father trusts me. May I ask...
I have lived so long here, without need of my telepathic abilities. And
the ionic storms make it difficult anyway. It’s hard to read your
psychic ident. Who is your father?”
“Lord de Lœngbærrow,” Chrístõ replied.
“He seemed in two minds about you when he knew of my mission here.
He said it was imperative that you be brought back to Gallifrey... to
justice. But at the same time, I think he regretted the necessity, as
if he liked you, and didn’t mind that you had escaped from us.”
“Your father does not LIKE me,” Destri responded. “But
he doesn’t bear grudges. And he is a fair-minded man who has always
treated me better than I deserved to be treated. I... am glad to know
that he survived the war. And you... Is it true that you are the Child
of Rassilon?”
“So they say. For my part I am the son of a good man and a gracious
woman. And I don’t ask to be anything more than that. I do my best
to make sure neither of them could be disappointed in me.”
“That’s a good ambition. I hope you live up to it.”
Chrístõ’s reply was forgotten as the volcano rumbled
loudly and a shower of red hot pumice fell through the air. Whatever it
hit, wood, glass, metal, plastic, it went straight through. Chrístõ
saw the roof of a long low building that must have been a dormitory for
some of the children catch fire and several pieces fell through the roof
of the garage around them as they worked. Destri confirmed that the dormitory
was empty. The children were all gathered in the Red Cross building, ready
to move out at a moment’s notice. Chrístõ tried not
to think what would have happened if, by sheer bad luck, the pumice had
hit that building instead.
“Right now, my only ambition is to get this engine fixed and get
you and your people out of here,” he said. “I don’t
think we have much time left. Has anyone given you any predictions of
when the main caldera will blow?”
“Even Time Lords have no way to predict such things. Mere humans
can only guess. I hope we aren’t too late. We were promised a plane.
But the ash cloud... it cannot fly through it. At least that was the excuse.
I think they couldn’t be bothered wasting a plane on us.”
Chrístõ nodded and finished securing the fan belt. He climbed
into the bus and pressed the starter motor. The engine burst into life.
He told Destri to take the other bus and they moved them out of the garage,
driving carefully past the burning building. The fire looked as if it
was ready to spread to the rest of the complex. But if nothing else went
wrong, everyone would be gone by then.
The children lined up patiently, despite the obvious anxiety. Before each
one climbed onto one of the buses they were given a hypodermic injection.
Chrístõ watched for a moment before helping Peter with that
while Hext and Destri checked the names of the children as they boarded
a bus. Every so often they looked nervously at the volcano and the rapidly
spreading fire and hoped they would be ready to move, soon.
At last, Destri did final head counts and then Peter ran to drive the
second bus. Destri took the driver’s seat in the first one.
“You go with Peter,” Chrístõ said to Hext. “You
can share the driving with him. I’ll stay with Destri.”
“I’m not letting him out of my sight,” Hext argued.
“These buses match each other for speed,” Chrístõ
pointed out. “He’s not going anywhere you’re not. Go
on.”
Hext decided not to argue. Chrístõ closed the door and sat
in the drop down seat usually reserved for a tour guide on these kind
of buses. He watched as Destri started the engine up again and the bus
moved off out of the complex. The children behind him were quiet. He watched
them for a little while. He wondered if they were upset about leaving
what was obviously the only home they had, or relieved that they were
on the way to safety.
Possibly both.
“Where are we actually going with them?” he asked Destri.
“I never thought to ask.”
“There is another hospice near Proxima City Prime,” Destri
answered.
“That’s three thousand miles away,” Chrístõ
pointed out. “You’re driving all that way?”
“No, only to Proxima City VII,” he answered. “There’s
a railway from there. We can use a couple of wagons.”
“That’s still five hundred miles. What’s wrong with
Proxima City VIII? That’s only a hundred and fifty miles. We drove
from there. It’s a murderous road, but it’s a much shorter
journey.
“They won’t let Maylors in.”
“Oh.”
Chrístõ recalled everything he knew about Maylor disease.
It was a blood disorder similar to leukaemia in its symptoms, but highly
infectious. In the twenty-fourth century Human colonies it had become
what leprosy was on Earth in medieval times. Sufferers were isolated from
society in camps such as the one that was now a burning ruin behind them.
There was no known cure.
“How come you’re involved with them?” he asked. “We...
Gallifreyans... we’re immune to that disease.”
“Five years ago, Peter was infected,” Destri answered. “I
wouldn’t leave him. We both volunteered to come out here. They allow
adult sufferers to work with the children, at least until they die.”
“Peter doesn’t look ill. Come to think of it, none of these
kids look as ill as they ought to be. That medicine you were giving them...”
“It isn’t a cure. It keeps the symptoms under control. They
can live longer and in less pain. How long, I don’t know yet. I’ve
only been treating them for a few years.”
“You developed a serum? You actually found something that would
improve and prolong the life of a Maylor sufferer? That’s... amazing.
They... the Human government... ought to be celebrating your achievement.
They should be fighting the two of us to stop you being deported.”
“Kind of you to say so,” Destri told him. “But it’s
not as easy as that. Nobody celebrates advances in the treatment of the
Forgotten.”
Chrístõ got ready to say something, but a flash of red reflected
in the rear view mirror and distracted him. He turned and ran to the back
of the bus. The children were all turning in their seats, too. He could
see Hext doing the same in the other bus, and he felt the forward momentum
as Destri hit the accelerator.
The volcano had blown its top. Huge plumes of black smoke were billowing
into the sky, feeding the clouds already hanging there. Red hot lava was
pouring down the side of the mountain. The glow lit the underside of the
clouds eerily.
They were still only a few miles from the hospice, still in the danger
zone. Hot pumice fell through the air beside, behind and in front of the
buses. Chrístõ swore a very rude low Gallifreyan swear word
as the roof of the bus was ripped open and a piece the size of a football
dropped straight through, burning through the floor just as fast and leaving
a hole in the aisle. The children in the seats closest to it screamed
loudest, but all of them were on the verge of hysteria. Chrístõ
felt a bit like screaming, too. But he kept his cool as he knelt down
to look through the gap and satisfied himself that there was no damage
to the chassis. Then he took a long stride over the hole and ran to the
front of the bus where Hext was calling him on the two way radio.
“Are you lot all right?” he asked.
“We’re still moving,” he answered. “But the kids
are scared.”
“So are these ones. Do you know any Human songs, or something. We’ve
got to take their minds off what’s behind them.”
“They like ‘Yellow Submarine’,” Destri told him.
“Really?” Chrístõ smiled. “My mother sang
that to me when I was little. Before I even knew what a submarine was.”
“I don’t think this lot DO know what a submarine is,”
Destri commented. “But they like the song.”
Fleeing across a desert from a volcano, on a planet four point two light
years away from the nearest submarine, and more than two hundred years
after the song was written, Chrístõ led two busloads of
children in ‘Yellow Submarine’. Around them the sky darkened
as the ash clouds got thicker and blacker. It really looked as if night
was going to fall on the day side of Proxima Centauri after all. They
seemed to be out of range of the falling pumice, at least. But they were
far from out of the danger zone.
“We’re going to have to stop, soon,” Destri told him
between songs. “It is less than ten minutes to Sun Flare.”
“The buses will be affected?”
“We have to stop and switch off all the electrics, otherwise they
will be fried by the electro-magnetic energy in the Flare.”
“And this happens every evening on this planet?” Hext asked.
“Why does ANYONE live here? It’s a nightmare.”
“The Flare is the only way we know it is ‘evening’ as
those of us not born here know it. Even within the environmentally protected
cities, shielded from the EM, the end of the working day is marked by
it.”
“And it goes on for how long?”
“Six hours,” Destri told him.
“Then we have a problem,” Chrístõ said. “I
don’t think we’re far enough away from the lava flow, yet.”
They travelled for another five minutes before Destri stopped the bus
and switched off all the electronic controls. Behind him, Peter did the
same. The adults all got off the buses and came together to assess their
situation. They looked back at the road they had travelled already. In
the far distance they knew the hospice was gone. It was in the direct
line of the main river of lava, which was coming towards them at a discomforting
speed.
“We have no choice but to follow the road,” Peter noted. “The
buses would soon break down if we went out on the plain. But the lava
is following the same route – the lowest point of the plain.”
Chrístõ looked the other way.
“There’s an incline,” he said. “The plain starts
to rise.... maybe about twenty metres by the highest point... which is
about a quarter of a mile away.”
“That would be above the lava?” Hext asked.
“Lava flows downwards, it obeys gravity. We’d be safer if
we could keep going.”
“But we can’t drive the buses for another six hours.”
“We have to abandon one of them,” Chrístõ decided.
“The one with the hole in the floor, preferably. And we push the
other one.”
“We push... a bus?” Peter was astonished.
“The children can walk a quarter mile. The exercise will be good
for them. Peter, you get in, take the handbrake off and manually steer.
We push... the three of us Time Lords with our extra stamina, superior
cardiovascular system and denser skeletal structure... we can push the
bus a quarter of a mile uphill.”
“Chrístõ, you really have the best ideas for a romantic
evening out,” Hext told him.
“I do, don’t I! Come on. Let’s get organised. You and
Peter get the kids off the buses. Give them a carton of orange juice and
a bar of chocolate each from the food supplies and start another song
up. Destri and I will shift all the supplies to the one bus.”
They did so to the sound of ‘Old MacDonald’ and the distant
rumble of the still angry volcano as the eerie light of the flaring sun
created a red aurora in the clear part of the sky to the east and made
the cloud covered part to the west look even stranger. They stored the
food and medical supplies and then they set off on this much slower part
of their journey. The children were in better spirits than he expected.
They formed a neat crocodile and sang their songs as they walked. It felt
like an adventure to them.
It felt like hard work to the three Time Lords pushing the bus slowly
and surely along the rough road. They were going much slower than the
children could walk. But they were moving. They were going uphill, away
from the lava.
Chrístõ looked back. The lava flow was definitely closer.
The gap between it and the abandoned bus was narrower. By the time they
reached the higher ground, he was sure the place where they stopped would
be engulfed.
And he was right. From the top of the rise they all looked back and saw
the lava reach the other bus. The tyres burst and it sank down into the
river of almost white hot molten rock before it was completely overwhelmed.
The sight of it frightened the children. They started to ask if the lava
would reach them.
“No,” Chrístõ assured them. “No, it won’t.
This incline will act as a barrier. It will slow it down, force it to
re-distribute...” He stopped talking. The children didn’t
understand all of the words he was saying, even though he wasn’t
being particularly technical. “Lava is lazy,” he said. “It
doesn’t like going uphill. It would rather go sideways. We’re
safe up here on the hill.”
But the children didn’t like looking at it, and the air felt hot
and uncomfortable. The wind was blowing across the plain and it was carrying
the heat from the volcano with it.
“Let’s move on,” he said. “The plain levels out
for another two or three hundred metres, then starts to go downhill again.
We’ll be sheltered from the wind, and out of sight of the lava flow.
Pushing downhill will be easier. Peter just has to keep a bit of handbrake
on to stop the bus running away from us.”
“Chrístõ, this really IS a fantastic date,”
Hext commented. But he took his share of the burden without complaint
as they pushed the bus slowly along the flat part of the raised plain,
then the slightly easier downward incline.
The children were much happier now they couldn’t see the lava behind
them. But they were getting tired. After all, they were not fit, healthy
children. They were children suffering from a cruelly debilitating disease.
“The road is better, now,” Hext pointed out. “It’s
a lot smoother. Not so many potholes. But there’s a lot of ash in
the air. Even though it’s cooler here it’s still not easy
to breathe.”
“There’s going to be a lot more ash, yet,” Chrístõ
said. “It rose up high into the atmosphere, but now it’s drifting
down again. It could blanket the ground for a hundred square miles or
more. It’s going to make driving a problem.”
The ground levelled out again after another half mile. But now the children
were too tired to go on. They piled back onto the bus. Sitting three or
four to a seat wasn’t a very comfortable way to sleep, but they
leaned on each other’s shoulders and drifted off. The adults stretched
out in the aisle between the seats. Peter and Destri lay side by side.
Hext looked at them and wondered again how such a relationship could have
come about. But there was something else about them that was on his mind.
“Chrístõ,” he whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Yes. Somebody needs to be. I can sleep while we’re moving
again when the Flare is over. We’ll have trouble with the ash. There’s
no getting around that. But we should make some progress. Once we’re
clear of the ash, we’ll be all right.”
“We’ve got a long way to go,” Hext commented. “I’ve
been thinking about it. The whole journey. We still have to get to the
other side of the damn continent, to that other hospice.
“WE don’t,” Chrístõ pointed out. “The
children will be safe once we get to that railway station at Proxima City
VII. We could do what we came to do then.”
“And you’d be happy to do that? Leave them in some railway
station? That’s not like you, Chrístõ.”
“I was trying to think practically... logically... like a Time Lord.
Instead of an emotional Human. We need to get this mission over with...”
“Time Lords can be emotional, too. Destri is. Peter told me something
about him, while he was driving the other bus.” Hext sighed before
he went on. “The medicine the kids all had before we set off...
It’s a serum made up from his blood... Destri... Ruben as they all
call him. Gallifreyans... we’re naturally immune to that disease.
We’re immune to most diseases. He found out that he can make the
medicine by extracting something from his own blood. He does it every
other day... to make up new batches.”
“That’s a really selfless thing to do... really brave. My
father was right about him.”
“Yes. But he’s still a convicted criminal on Gallifrey. And
we still have to take him in. And... you know what that means, don’t
you?”
Chrístõ nodded unhappily. Yes, he understood. And he didn’t
like it.
“We’ll talk about it again,” Hext said. “Like
I said, we’ve a long way to go... and I think we’re going
all the way. Never mind the railway station. We’re going to make
sure those children are in the care of people who’ll look after
them properly before we do anything about Destri.”
“I hoped you’d say that,” Chrístõ replied.
“You decided a lot faster than I thought you would. I expected to
have to appeal to your better nature for at least another day.”
Hext laughed. He knew he’d been hooked.
The Flare finally came to an end and the sky settled down to a reddish
grey. The ash cloud lay low over the plain as Peter and Destri distributed
food among the children and Chrístõ and Hext cleared the
ash that had settled away from the air intakes and the front windscreen
of the bus.
“If we get more than a couple of hours before the carburettors get
clogged up we’ll be lucky,” Chrístõ said. “Best
get going, though.”
The bus was crowded. But the children didn’t complain. They slept
a little more. It was still quite early in the day.
Two hours later, the carburettors clogged. While Chrístõ
and Destri cleaned them out, Peter, assisted by Hext, gave the children
their first dose of medicine of the day. They set off again and managed
another two hours before the ash caused them problems again.
“Right, I’ve decided,” Chrístõ said when
he got into the bus again. “We’re not heading for Proxima
City VII. We’re going to Proxima City VIII. It’s closer. We’ll
make it before the next Flare.”
“But they won’t let the children in,” Destri reminded
him.
“Our TARDIS is parked there,” Chrístõ told him.
“We’ve got room for everyone. There’s unlimited supply
of fresh, cool orange juice. And the train can shunt off, too. We’ll
take them straight to the hospice.”
“You’ve got a brig aboard your TARDIS, too, I suppose,”
Destri said.
“Yes,” Hext told him. “We have.”
“We get there faster, you get me as your prisoner, sooner.”
“I’m thinking of the children,” Chrístõ
assured him. “This way is better for them.”
“I agree,” Destri said. “We’ll do it your way.”
The bus shuddered to a halt again. This time the radiator was clogged
up with the ash. It took longer to clean than the carburettors. Chrístõ
wished he’d cannibalised the other bus before they left it. He could
have simply swapped the parts. But hindsight was a wonderful thing. He
did his best. They set off again.
By fits and starts, they slowly covered the distance to Proxima VIII.
There was still an hour to Sun Flare when the bus came to a final halt
outside the protective dome. Some of the ash had even reached as far as
here. The dome had a sprinkling of it all over that gave it a matt finish
instead of its usual reflective glow.
Paracell Hext went to fetch his TARDIS. While he did, the children received
their second dose of medicine for this day.
“I’m told the serum is made up every other day,” Chrístõ
said as he helped Peter to administer the hypodermic injections. “So
tomorrow you’ll need more of it.”
“Yes,” he answered.
“If they couldn’t get the medicine...”
“They’d get weak and sick again very quickly. Most of them
would die within a year. I’ll probably last a bit longer. I’ve
been receiving the serum for longer. And I’m stronger to begin with.”
“He tried it on you, first?” Chrístõ asked.
“You were his guinea pig?”
“He gave me blood transfusions twice a day... from his own veins.
He’d have done the same for all of the children if he could. The
serum doesn’t take as much out of him as whole blood and there’s
enough for all.”
“I understand,” Chrístõ said. “I suppose...
it’s not possible to synthesise the active ingredient...”
“I know why you’re asking that question,” Peter answered
him. “I worked it out. You know, he told me somebody would come
for him, sooner or later. I always hoped that it wouldn’t be in
my lifetime.”
“Do you know what he did? The reason why he has to come back with
us?”
“I do. He told me a long time ago. The whole story. He’s a
traitor responsible for the deaths of thousands. He told me because...
he wanted me to know exactly who he was... he wanted me to love him unreservedly,
knowing the whole truth about him. And I have. Because he’s not
the man he was then... he’s made up for his crime long ago. He’s
more than made up for it.”
“I agree,” Chrístõ said. “But it’s
not my decision. Nor is it my friend’s. We have to do what our government
demands.”
“I know. So does he. And... neither of us will stand in your way.
If it’s what must be done.”
“You should,” Chrístõ told him. “You should
fight every inch of the way. I would. It isn’t fair. I would fight
somebody like me coming along with a damned extradition order to destroy
everything you love.”
Peter didn’t reply. They finished administering to the children
just before the sound of a TARDIS materialising disturbed the peace of
the day. Hext opened both doors wide and they counted all of the children
inside. He told them to sit in a ring around the edge of the console room.
Then he gave them orange juice and put the TARDIS into temporal orbit.
Chrístõ was surprised by that.
“I contacted the hospice outside Proxima Prime,” he said,
going to the door and opening it. He stood on the threshold looking out
at the view of Proxima Centauri from space. The ash cloud from the volcano
was a conspicuous feature over a quarter of the hemisphere. “I thought
it would be useful to let them know we were arriving earlier than expected.
Turns out there’s been some stupid administrative error. The hospice
at Proxima Prime was never expecting them at all. It has no room for fifty
children. It doesn’t want them. And nobody else does, either.”
“What?” Destri stepped closer. “What do you mean?”
“You called them the Forgotten,” Chrístõ reminded
him. “It seems they’re far more forgotten than you thought.”
“Then what will happen to them...”
“It’s time we returned to Gallifrey,” Hext said, apparently
ignoring Destri’s question. “You knew it had to happen. This
TARDIS is officially designated as a Celestial Intervention Agency prison
ship. You are to all intents and purposes in my custody. You must have
realised as much.”
“I did,” Destri admitted. “Before I stepped aboard,
I knew.”
“If we take him back, we’re condemning them... Peter and the
children... to die painfully. They need him.”
“I know that.” Hext sighed. “The last time you and I
went to bring a prisoner back to Gallifrey I ended up marrying her. If
I don’t bring Destri back to his island exile I’m going to
seriously jeopardise my reputation as a hard man who criminals and Renegades
should fear.”
“Nuts to your reputation,” Chrístõ told him.
“Their lives are at stake.”
Hext turned away from the door and closed it. He went to the console and
initiated the vortex drive.
“That’s why we’re ALL going back to Gallifrey,”
he said. “I called my father. I’ve persuaded him to allow
a concession to Destri’s sentence of exile. Your father backed me
up. He thinks it’s time the prisoner’s good behaviour should
be taken into account. He will be allowed to have his family with him
on the island.... a spouse and fifty adopted children. There’s room
enough for them. And even though it’s meant to be a prison, it’s
very beautiful. Lots of fresh air, the sound of the sea. They’ll
have to make do with tents for a while, until some kind of permanent structure
can be arranged. And they’ll have to really get used to the taste
of fish. There’s not much else in the way of food around there until
supplies can be sent in. But they’ll be safe on a quarantine island
where their dangerously infectious medical condition can continue to be
treated.”
“Wow,” Chrístõ responded. “Wow... Paracell
Hext... your reputation as a hard man is in tatters as far as I’m
concerned. You’d better hope I can keep a secret. That’s....
I couldn’t have thought of a better solution myself.”
He smiled widely and hugged Hext tightly for rather longer than friendship
required. Destri looked at them both curiously.
“I thought I was the only Time Lord with those sort of inclinations,”
he said.
“You still are,” Hext assured him. “I’m married
and Chrístõ has a lovely fiancée. But he’s
half Human. He lets his emotions get the better of him all the time. I
used to beat him up at the Prydonian Academy for it. But he never seems
to learn.”
“He takes after his mother,” Destri replied, to Chrístõ’s
surprise. “Anyway, if I am your prisoner... do you want to put me
in your brig? Or... will you accept my word of honour as a Time Lord that
I won’t attempt to escape?”
“Your word of honour will do,” Hext replied. “But next
time I chase a Renegade across the galaxy he damned well IS going in the
brig, in chains, and I’m getting the sonic whips out. Somebody has
to feel my wrath one of these days.”
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