Julia was staying the night with Chrístõ
again. She was already asleep in the bed beside him. He reached out and
brushed her cheek with his fingers and smiled. She wasn’t his wife,
yet. There were still another four years to go, but this was a foretaste
of the contentment he could look forward to when they were married and
he had a right to sleep beside her every night.
“I love you, Julia,” he whispered before he closed his eyes
and prepared to sleep. That was something he did much more easily when
she was with him. When he slept alone, he so often didn’t sleep
at all. He would lie awake for a long time, and then choose to spend the
night hours in mind and body renewing meditation instead. Two or three
hours in a state of trance were as good, if not better, than seven hours
ordinary sleep, and there was the additional advantage of no dreams when
he did that.
It would puzzle most people to know that a man as fearless as he was in
all else was afraid of his own dreams. It was a weakness, a failing, something
his enemies could put down to his weak part-Human blood, to a feebleness
of the mind that was unforgivable in a Time Lord.
But for as long as he could remember he had hated to dream. When he was
a very little boy he had frequently cried out in the night, bringing nursemaids
or sometimes his mother or father to his room to comfort him. After his
mother’s death and their return to Gallifrey, he remembered his
father often carrying him to the master bedroom and allowing him to sleep
in his bed beside him. But there had come a time when the little boy had
to grow up and cope with the fears of the night without comfort, without
disturbing anyone else. There certainly wouldn’t have been any good
in crying out in the dormitory at the Prydonian Academy where the only
response would have been cruel jibes and censure.
Now he was a man, and he still hated the dreams that came to him in sleep,
so more often than not he cleared his mind and let himself drop into a
third level trance where his brain didn’t function at all and couldn’t
conjure up any demons for him.
But when he lay beside the woman he loved, he didn’t need to do
that. He could sleep peacefully. He kissed her gently on the lips and
smiled as he closed his eyes, listening to her soft breathing and her
single heartbeat next to his syncopated pair and knew he had nothing to
fear this night.
He had actually fallen asleep, but not for very long. Certainly not long
enough to start dreaming. He woke suddenly and sat up in the darkened
room. He thought he had screamed, but Julia was still asleep beside him.
Then he felt again what had woken him so abruptly. His hand gripped the
back of his neck as he felt a searing pain there. He groaned loudly, disturbing
Humphrey from under the bed. He loomed in the darkness trilling his concern.
“It’s all right, old pal,” Chrístõ whispered
to him. “I’m fine. Just a twinge of lumbago or something.”
That was nonsense, of course. Very elderly Time Lords or those approaching
regeneration did sometimes suffer from afflictions of that sort, but he
certainly didn’t.
It was his scar hurting him, the rough tissue that covered the place where
the letters TS – Theta Sigma – had been seared into his flesh
by the group of pure-blood bullies who had victimised him.
“Don’t be stupid,” he told himself. “I’m
not bloody Harry Potter.”
No, it wasn’t the scar. It was under that. He could actually feel
the birthmark beneath the tissue, the mark he once didn’t even know
he had. Now he could trace it with his fingers. The lines that had formed
a perfect Seal of Rassilon before that attack were hot to the touch. The
birthmark was burning on his skin.
“I’m not a flaming Death Eater, either,” he added to
himself, echoing the same literary allusion. “What’s going
on?”
“Son of Rassilon,” a voice said directly in his head. “Don’t
resist me. Come, join me here.”
“Join who?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”
That was the second time he had asked the question aloud.
This time he had an answer, of sorts.
The dark room was suddenly flooded with painfully bright light. He screwed
his eyes shut against actinic white and throbbing green that stabbed at
the back of his retinas and gave him a headache to go with the pain in
the neck.
Then the light was gone, and so was he.
“I’m still not Harry Potter,” he said to himself. “And
that wasn’t a Portkey.”
“Who is Harry Potter?” a voice asked. “That is not a
Gallifreyan name.”
“He’s not important,” Chrístõ replied.
The voice was not inside his head this time. He turned to see a young
man perhaps a little older than himself, dressed in a gold and black robe
with the Seal of Rassilon emblazoned over it and a high collar as worn
by Time Lords for ceremonial occasions.
He felt a little under-dressed in black satin pyjamas.
“If you wish to dress the same as I you only need to think of yourself
clothed so,” the stranger told him.
“I don’t wish to dress the same as you,” Chrístõ
answered. “Outfits like that are one reason I don’t go home
for formal occasions.”
He thought of his comfortable familiar, black leather jacket ensemble
that he preferred to wear on any given day. To his utter surprise he looked
down and found that he was wearing it.
“I just have to think about clothes and I’m wearing them?”
he queried. “That’s a talent wasted on me. I’m not really
much of a follower of fashion. My stepmother would probably give actual
organs of her body for the chance. Who ARE you and what am I doing here?
Where IS here and how did you bring me here?”
“I am Degea Braxietel,” the stranger answered. “This
is my planet. I brought you here by power of thought.”
“YOUR planet?” Chrístõ had not paid much attention
to his surroundings yet. He was still trying to make up his mind if he
was dreaming. If he was, then his own imagination was working overtime
on the view. He was standing on a flat plateau near the top of a mountain.
He could see a vast landscape below with a silver river winding through
a wide valley between high mountain ranges. The whole vista had a red-ochre
colour that reminded him of the cold northern tundra beyond the Red Desert
of Gallifrey.
He looked up at a burnt orange sky very like that of Gallifrey and confirmed
that it wasn’t his home planet. The sky of Gallifrey had constellations
of stars in it. This sky had no stars at all even though it was a clear
night with dawn just breaking on the western horizon. A bi-coloured moon,
silver and copper colours swirling around each other, brightened one portion
of the heavens, but the rest was burnt orange.
“MY Planet,” Braxietel repeated. “Do you like it? I
modelled it on a familiar pattern.”
“You mean….?” Chrístõ decided not to chase
that train of thought for the moment. “Braxietel…. It’s
an oldblood name. You must be from Gallifrey. But I still don’t
know you. I know the Braxietel family. But they don’t have a son.
So who are you?”
“I am like you…one of the children of Rassilon, marked out
by him… literally.” Braxietel pulled up the sleeve of the
robe to reveal a birthmark on his upper arm. Chrístõ felt
the birthmark on his own neck burning like a brand. The one on Braxietel’s
arm glowed faintly. It had to be painful to him, too, but he showed no
signs of it. He tried not to show his own discomfort. He had a feeling
some kind of rebuke about his weak half-Human blood would follow if he
did.
“You’re out of your timeline, then,” he said. “There
hasn’t been anyone with that mark born on Gallifrey for millennia.
At least four generations. I’ve had people telling me that for years…
how the birthmark made me special, how I was destined for greatness because
of it, how unique I am among my generation.”
“Doesn’t it just make you sick?” Braxietel asked.
“Yes!”
“They told me all of that, too. Then they did everything they could
do stop me achieving that greatness. That’s why I left Gallifrey.
Free from all those rules, all those restrictions on what I can do…
I achieved so very much. I am not just a child of Rassilon. I am GREATER
than Rassilon.”
“But that makes you a Renegade,” Chrístõ pointed
out. “A traitor.”
“To Gallifrey, perhaps,” Braxietel retorted. “But I
have been true to myself. Come and see my world in all of its glory.”
Chrístõ didn’t have time to respond to that. Braxietel
reached out and touched him over the still burning place on the back of
his neck and the ground fell away beneath his feet. Moments later he found
himself looking down on Braxietel’s planet from orbit. He was standing
on nothing in the vacuum of space.
“Why am I not asphyxiating?” he asked. “Why am I even
able to speak?”
“Because you are like me. The rules don’t apply to us. Not
even the rules of physics.”
“They always used to. I may have bent a few out of shape but gravity
wasn’t one of them.”
“Come,” Braxietel said again. “Fly with me.”
“I don’t fly,” Chrístõ protested. But
then he wondered who he was trying to tell, his companion or himself.
Because he WAS flying, through the outer layer of the atmosphere surrounding
the planet. He must have been going at a cracking speed, too, because
within a few minutes the arid zone they had stood in had given way to
a polar ice cap, then they flew over an ocean, first dotted with icebergs
and frozen islets, then a temperate zone with a small continent covered
in forests, then equatorial waters with coral islands complete with turquiose
lagoons. It occurred to Chrístõ that his eyes were doing
something unusual, too. They were far too high to see details on those
little islands no more than a mile across, but when he focussed he saw
it all close up.
There was another continent south of the equator, if such directions meant
anything. This one had a huge desert that gave way eventually to temperate
forest. Then it got colder again as they approached the opposite pole.
This one began with a high, sheer cliff of ice with a deep valley at the
top between mountains that rose even higher. Chrístõ was
vaguely reminded of the Mountains of Solace and Solitude in deep winter,
except it was clearly always winter here.
“Always winter and never Christmas,” Chrístõ
thought, finally getting one literary reference out of his head in favour
of another. They had descended from the upper atmosphere now and were
flying along the valley. Looming in the distance was an enviro-dome enclosing
what could only be described as an ice palace. It was dazzling white with
slender pinnacled towers of various heights that probably served no purpose
other than decoration. A central dome of opaque silvery-white rose up
behind the pinnacles. It was a spectacular building.
“My home,” Braxietel said as they landed on a wide balcony
with elaborately carved balustrades. Braxietel waved his hand and a huge
crystal glass door opened. They stepped onto a mezzanine floor with a
grand staircase of twisted silver-grey metal leading down to the floor
of the ‘throne room’. The domed roof was overhead. From the
inside it was transparent and the copper-silver moon shone down directly.
Torches that gave off a bright white flame gave further illumination.
Braxietel descended the stairs and sat himself down on an ornate chair
made of the same twisted metal as the staircase. The Seal of Rassilon
formed part of the decoration upon it. The Seal was also etched into the
black marble table before him.
Braxietel waved and chairs appeared at his left and right side. He indicated
with a careless gesture that Chrístõ should sit on his right.
He did so because otherwise he would have been standing uselessly.
Braxietel clapped his hands and a wide double door opposite the stairs
opened. Liveried servants brought food and drink on silver plates. Chrístõ
wasn’t hungry but he drank a little of the wine to clear his dry
throat.
A stunningly lovely young woman dressed in floating and almost transparent
layers of silk came to sit on Braxietel’s left side. He kissed her
cheek and offered her wine. She accepted without speaking.
“This is my favourite wife, Aeolia,” he said. “She doesn’t
talk, which is a very commendable virtue in a woman, don’t you think?”
“Not really. What do you mean by favourite? How many do you have?”
“As many as I please,” Braxietel answered. “I haven’t
counted them lately. I sense disapproval from you. Rassilon himself was
reputed to have had many wives.”
“He had many sons,” Chrístõ said. “I don’t
know if that was with one very fertile wife or more than one. And history
is silent about whether the wives were serial or simultaneous. But polygamy
is not a part of modern Gallifreyan life, and yes, I do find the idea
disturbing.”
“I thought you would be more like me,” Braxietel complained.
“More adventurous.”
“I’m very adventurous,” Chrístõ responded.
“But I don’t see any adventure going on around here. What
is this place, really? And why are you here? Why am I here?”
“Did you pick up this habit of asking multiple questions from the
species I found you among?” Braxietel asked.
“Yes, I think I did. Are you going to answer any of these questions?”
“Of course I am. That is WHY I brought you here - to share my world
with one of my own, with a Child of Rassilon worthy of my legacy.”
“WHAT legacy?”
“All of this,” Braxietel insisted. “All of the power,
the unlimited power of Creation.”
“Nobody has that Power, not even the Time Lords. Not even Rassilon.
Even though he is called the Creator of our race he didn’t actually
fashion us from the dust. The Gallifreyan race existed already. He simply
changed our DNA to make us more powerful. Not ALL powerful, but more powerful,
capable of so very much, but not omnipotent. He never intended us to be
GODS.”
“Exactly my point,” Braxietel said. “He limited us.
Even the thirteen lives he gave us was a limitation. He stopped us from
being immortal.”
“That’s a good thing. We would be a very over-populated world
if we could all live forever.”
“It wasn’t good enough for me,” Braxietel answered impatiently.
“It wasn’t enough to live within the stifling confines of
Time Lord society. I wanted more. I left Gallifrey, I searched the universe
for a place where I could be truly powerful. And I found it, here.”
“Where IS here?” Chrístõ asked, curiosity getting
the better of him. “Yes, I know it’s YOUR planet, but where
is it exactly?”
“The exact space co-ordinate is my secret,” Braxietel answered.
“I don’t want Time Lords coming here uninvited. I found a
nebula on the very edge of N-Space. The particles of dust were held together
by naturally occurring artron energy, the same energy that is within all
Time Lords, but in such small quantities that our powers and abilities
are limited. Here, there are no limits. I created a sun with a planet
orbiting it, a moon to orbit the planet. I terra-formed it to my liking
and built a palace. I peopled it with servants who would do my bidding.”
“You did all of that?” There must have been a lot of artron
energy in the nebula to actually create a fission burning star. That was
an incredible thing on its own. The rest was easy by comparison.
“I did.”
“Well, colour me impressed,” Chrístõ told him.
“What I’ve seen so far is very good. But what’s the
point? You’re king of your own world… but what else do you
do? Apart from organise rotas for your wives, anyway.”
“What else is there to do? I have everything I want.”
“Have you?” Chrístõ queried.
“Of course.”
Chrístõ glanced at the pretty ‘wife’ by Braxietel’s
side - a silent creature who looked at him with an expression of pure
adoration.
An expression of utter emptiness.
He thought of Julia, a bright, beautiful girl with many talents, including
the ability to think and speak for herself.
Compared to her, Braxietel’s favourite wife was just a very lifelike
doll.
“You think so?” Braxietel responded coolly. Chrístõ
was surprised, then surprised at himself for not expecting so powerful
a Time Lord to be able to read his mind at will.
“Yes, I do think so,” Chrístõ responded. “But
if that’s what makes you happy don’t let me get in your way.”
“Nothing gets in my way. That’s my whole point. I am all powerful.
I am the master of this whole world.”
“I hope you have an army to defend it. There are a lot of envious
races out there and you don’t have the protection of the Transduction
Barrier.”
“I have better than that,” Braxietel answered. “The
nebula is a hundred thousand light years across even after I pulled so
much matter from it. Most space craft avoid it. Those who don’t….”
Chrístõ felt his touch inside his mind. Images flashed across
the inside of his eyes. He saw a Sontaran fleet, a mothership and thousands
of fighter craft enter the nebula. They immediately began to glow as artron
charged dust coated their hulls. Power arced and spat, and then the ships
disintegrated.
The same happened to a Sycorax powered-asteroid as big as a small moon
and several other craft that Chrístõ didn’t recognise.
“No!” he exclaimed. “No, that isn’t how Time Lords
defend themselves. The Transduction Barrier is impenetrable, but it doesn’t
do that. How many ships have you destroyed that way?”
“I haven’t counted,” Braxietel answered. “It doesn’t
matter. If they hadn’t tried to penetrate the nebula they would
have been safe. They only have themselves to blame.”
“But it’s murder,” Chrístõ protested.
“What if some of them weren’t hostile? Did you even give them
a chance?”
“I don’t kill all of them,” Braxietel said. “If
they’re humanoid, and pretty enough, I bring them to the planet.
There is plenty of land for them. Some of them serve me here in the palace
in various ways. Aeolia is the fifth generation of her tribe born here
after her ancestors blundered into the nebula. My first wife was the daughter
of the captain of a Vaenusian ship that went the same way. Do you know
the Vaenusians? All of the adults are at least six food tall, ebony skinned
– I’d never seen a woman like her before. I took all three
of her sisters as wives eventually.”
“And the ones that aren’t so ‘pretty’?”
Chrístõ queried.
“I have an extensive zoo on that large continent we passed over
before we reached the polar zone.”
“A zoo?”
“Where else would you keep something as ugly as a Zygon or a Judoon?”
Braxietel asked. “I keep a few here in the palace, too. Would you
like to see some sport?”
“What?” Chrístõ was still reeling over the idea
that there was a ‘zoo’ where non-humanoid alien beings were
kept. He couldn’t yet take in this notion of ‘sport’.
He wasn’t quite sure what to expect when Braxietel waved his hand
and a deep, wide well opened up in the floor of the throne room. He looked
down to see barred gates below and a pungent smell of captive animals.
A gate opened with a clang and a huge creature with horns on its head
and fearsome claws on all six legs charged, snorting and growling angrily.
From another gate a being that stood on two legs but had a head resembling
an Earth rhinoceros stepped forward. He was wearing a sort of leather
armour and was holding a pair of long knives, but it seemed precious little
protection against the thing with the horns and claws.
“Judoon,” Braxietel said with a cold laugh. “All brawn
and no brain. They usually put up a good fight against the Erkkan Beast.”
“This is your idea of sport?”
“Would you prefer a genteel game of lacrosse?” Braxietel replied.
“Yes, actually,” Chrístõ responded. He watched
in horror as the beast charged and the Judoon dodged as nimbly as such
a squarely built being could manage and stuck one of his knives into the
creature’s neck. It howled with rage and twisted its head, piercing
the Judoon in the chest. He staggered back, his own blood mixing with
the darker red-black gore that spilled from the creature. He held his
other knife defensively and managed to stab the creature in one eye, but
again he took a desperate wound to the chest. He was staggering when he
lunged again, blinding the creature completely. He had the upper hand
now, and stabbed again and again with the knife, piercing the creature’s
thick hide. But even blinded the beast fought back with horns and claws.
The Judoon was taking terrible wounds and when he fell and the creature
reared over him it was all over for him.
“That was sick!” Chrístõ protested. “It
was barbaric. Rassilon himself put a stop to this kind of thing on Gallifrey
millennia before even your time. How could you?”
The wounded creature was forced back inside the gate by two Judoon with
electronic shields. Their dead comrade was carried out of the arena. No
sooner were they gone, than two more gates opened.
“Watch this!” Braxietel said with glee in his voice.
A tall, ebony-skinned man dressed in leather and armed with a whip and
a sword stood looking around, wondering what he was meant to be fighting.
Then he reeled back, winded and dazed while a bloody wound appeared in
his shoulder. Something had hit him with great force and slashed at him
with a blade at the same time, but there appeared to be nothing in the
arena with him.
“What is it?” Chrístõ demanded.
“I have no idea what it’s called,” Braxietel answered.
“But it’s a killer. I’ve never seen anyone walk out
of the arena when set against it.”
“That’s enough. I’m not going to stand by and watch
murder for sport,” Chrístõ said. He looked down from
the very edge of the pit. It was a long drop. But after all, this planet
was created using artron energy. It was suffused with it. He could feel
it in his molecules.
He could fly. Braxietel had shown him how. He could control a descent
into a cockpit of death. He landed softly and stood in front of the wounded
Vaenusian. He raised his arms and thought about an energy shield. The
air in front of him shimmered and then wobbled as the invisible creature
charged at it and was repelled.
“Show yourself,” Chrístõ commanded. He was surprised
when what appeared in front of him looked just like a Pazithi wolf of
Gallifrey. They were fierce, wild creatures, but neither the bite nor
the claws matched the wound on the Vaenusian’s shoulder and chest.
“Show your true self,” he commanded with all of the authority
of his Oldblood heritage. The creature shimmered and turned into something
that made the Vaenusian yelp in terror and then settled into a four foot
high mound of thick fur with a pair of large eyes near the top and two
big toes sticking out at the bottom. It mewed unhappily.
“That’s a Medusan bear,” Chrístõ commented,
letting the shield fall. “It isn’t fierce at all in its passive
form. You forced it into its defensive stance, shape-shifting and cloaking
itself to fight its enemies.”
“Yes, of course,” Braxietel answered from above. “There’s
no sport in it otherwise.”
Chrístõ turned and looked at the gates leading into underground
passages below the fantasy palace. There were men of the Vaenusian race,
some others with lighter skin, and a number of the Judoon there.
“Open the gates,” Chrístõ commanded. “Let
these slaves free.” There were serial clunks and rattles and a rising
murmur from within the dungeons. Chrístõ turned and looked
at the wounded man. He put his hand over the terrible gashes in his flesh
and willed them to mend. “Go now, along with the others. Find what
transport there is to return to your tribes.”
The man looked at Chrístõ and murmured a thanks for his
life and then ran. The Medusan bear looked at him and then went to the
corner of the pit and curled up in a furry ball. It went to sleep.
Chrístõ flew back out of the pit and grabbed Degea Braxietel
by the throat, pushing him to the floor. He was so surprised he didn’t
even try to fight back at first. Chrístõ got four good punches
in before he responded.
When he did, he made a fight of it. He had been lazy and self- indulgent
for who knew how long, but he had once been trained to be a Time Lord.
He knew the martial art of Sun Ko Du practiced by the candidates in their
last fifty years at the academy. It was a fight between equals.
The throne room filled with onlookers, servants of Degea Braxietel, but
none of them tried to interfere. Some of the women gathered around the
table with Aeolia. They must have been his other wives, but they looked
with mute and only vague interest, as if they didn’t care who won
the fight.
“You’ve bred a people with no ideas in their heads,”
Chrístõ told his opponent. “Not even loyalty. They
don’t love you. They don’t even fear you. You’re nothing.
This world of yours is nothing.”
“You’re wrong,” Braxietel argued even as they fought
each other. “I have built a paradise. That’s why I brought
you here… to share it with me. You… and I… we are the
same… chosen by Rassilon, yet abandoned by him at the same time,
denied the true power that could be ours. I offer it to you… to
my brother….”
“I only have one brother,” Chrístõ responded.
“He’s seven years old, but even he would recognise this for
a castle built upon sand.”
Braxietel screamed in anger and pushed Chrístõ so hard that
they were both lifted off the floor. Chrístõ repelled him
so violently that he flew up towards the crystal domed ceiling and smashed
straight through it. Chrístõ created a shield to protect
the people below from the falling shards and then flew after him. He caught
up with his opponent beneath the enviro-dome, but that, too, was no limit
to either of them with so much artron energy suffusing them. Their two
bodies melted through it as if it was a soap bubble, and still grappling
with each other they rose higher and higher.
“Even if I hadn’t seen the horror beneath your throne room,
I would have refused your offer,” Chrístõ said as
they left the planet’s atmosphere altogether. “I don’t
need anything you have. I already have more. I have a woman who truly
loves me, a family, a home I am welcome in any time. I have the loyalty
of real friends. I pity you, Degea Braxietel, because you have none of
those things.”
“Pity?” Braxietel was astonished. “You pity me? I could
crush you like a fly… and you pity me?”
“You can’t crush me,” Christo answered. “I am
just as powerful as you. The artron energy sustains me just as it sustains
you. You can’t defeat me.”
“I will kill you, if you defy me,” Braxietel told him. “You
will die, screaming and begging for mercy.”
With that he pushed hard despite the fact that they were in the vacuum
of space and there was nothing to push against. The momentum carried them
both further away from the planet, past its beautiful moon, past the sun
that warmed it.
Chrístõ knew when they had entered the dense nebula of artron
charged dust particles. He felt it in every molecule of his body. It was
painful, very painful. He felt as if his skin was being abraded by every
speck of dust that was attracted to it. His lungs were full of it. His
blood was boiling as his body was over-whelmed by the energy that gave
long life and the power of regeneration to Time Lords, but in this volume
would surely take away both.
Then he felt himself floating in ordinary space. He was still alive, and
he wasn’t yet suffocating, though he knew that might not last long.
They had emerged on the outside of the nebula.
It occurred to Chrístõ that the nebula was thousands of
light years wide and it should have taken an eternity to make such a journey.
But he was alive, he wasn’t asphyxiating. One more impossible thing
didn’t really signify.
He was better off than Degea Braxietel. Chrístõ floated
weightlessly and watched a terrible transformation come upon him. In seconds
his body got old. Then a bright orange glow surrounded him and he regenerated,
but only for a few seconds again before he aged and regenerated again.
“How long have you ruled your world, Braxietel?” Chrístõ
asked him. “The artron energy kept you young, gave you immortality,
but only as long as you remained within the nebula. Now it’s all
catching up on you.”
Braxietel couldn’t answer. He was too busy screaming. Chrístõ
had lost count of his regenerations, but he must have been running out
of them. He grabbed him and dived back into the nebula. Again it was an
agonising experience, the more so for Braxietel, who seemed all the more
susceptible to the ravaging of the artron energy.
Then they were back in the internal space where there were no stars. Chrístõ
kept hold of Braxietel and headed towards the southern pole of the planet,
to the enviro-dome over the ice palace. He aimed for the hole in the crystal
dome and landed smoothly on the very same spot where they had fought before.
The people were still there, looking at the debris of the broken dome,
looking at each other in wonder. When Chrístõ stood before
them they bowed and called him Lord.
“I’m not your Lord,” he answered them. “HE is.”
Braxietel groaned and struggled to his feet. Aeolia, his favourite wife,
broke from the group and came to him. She reached out and touched his
face. It was lined with age but something of his previous vigour returned
to him as he stood up straight and allowed her to kiss him on the cheek.
“It looks like you were near the end of your last life when I brought
you back,” Chrístõ told him. “It was a close
thing. A few more seconds and you’d be dead. I wouldn’t have
lost any sleep over you. But these people need some guidance. Without
you they don’t know what to do, which is entirely your fault.”
“I….” Braxietel looked around. The people, with the
exception of the woman he clung to, all bowed.
“They still recognise you as their Lord. That’s good. Now,
have some sense. Rule them well. Teach them to look after themselves,
to govern themselves so that, if you ever tire of eternity and take yourself
back outside the nebula and make an end of it, they will be all right
without you.”
“I don’t have to” Braxietel replied. “You can’t
leave. I brought you here. I won’t send you back.”
“I’ll take myself back. You know I can. Anything you can do,
I can do… better.” He grinned as the song lyric he had accidentally
quote played in his head. “Give me your word, as a Time Lord of
Gallifrey, in the name of Rassilon, that you WILL change this place for
the better. Close that pit below us, care for the creatures you have kept
in your ‘zoo’, make life better for your sentient subjects.
Vow it, Braxietel, or I will destroy you. You know that I CAN.”
“I vow,” he said. “In the name of Rassilon, my Creator
and my Lord, as a Time Lord of Gallifrey. I will… I will do as you
ask.”
“Good. Aeolia, it seems like you love him despite everything. You
look after him. Maybe he can become a better man.”
The silent girl nodded. The people around bowed to Chrístõ,
recognising that he was an even greater man than the one who ruled them.
“Right, then I’m leaving. For now. I’ll be checking
up from time to time. I am quite sure the mental connection between us
will remain, Braxietel. We ARE both chosen by Rassilon. There is that
to bind us, even if we are in no other way alike. I can return here if
I choose, and I will. But for now….”
He stood apart from them all and smiled as yet another Earth cultural
reference floated into his mind. He clicked the heels of his shoes and
whispered to himself.
“There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home….”
He woke to feel a cool hand upon his brow and a familiar voice calling
his name. He opened his eyes and saw the moulded plaster ceiling of his
bedroom in the house where he was born, on the southern plain of Gallifrey.
“I’m home,” he said.
“Yes, you are,” his father told him. “I’m not
sure how. You frightened your stepmother out of her wits by materialising
in the middle of the white drawing room and then promptly fainting.”
“The white drawing room.” Chrístõ smiled. “My
mother’s favourite room in the house. There really is no place like
home.”
“Ah, you were snatched away by a tornado and taken to Oz,”
his father said. He recognised the literary allusion to.
“Nowhere that interesting,” Chrístõ answered.
“If I’d woken aboard the ship I’d have thought it was
a dream but since I’m here it must have really happened.”
He explained it all to his father, who listened carefully and nodded in
understanding.
“Degea Braxietel went missing, presumed dead about the time that
Chrístõ dracœfire, your great grandfather, was slaying
dragons. History has always been vague about what happened to him. I think
it might as well stay that way. There’s no sense in opening up old
wounds of that sort, and we definitely don’t need some ambitious
Time Lords thinking there is a way they can become immortal.”
“I don’t think it would them do any good,” Chrístõ
said. “I think the power only works within the nebula. I feel…
quite ordinary now. I certainly can’t fly.”
“Good,” his father said. “Rassilon imposed limitations
on our power for sound reasons. Let’s keep it that way.” He
smiled warmly at his son. “You weren’t tempted by what he
had to offer?”
“Tempted by what? He was a lonely man who found no real satisfaction
in his omnipotence. The only thing he had that I don’t…. when
all is said and done… was immortality. And that that didn’t
tempt me at all. What use would it be? I have thirteen long lives ahead
of me. I’ll already outlive everyone I love. What would I do with
immortality?”
“Good answer, my son,” Chrístõ Mian de Lœngbærrow
told his heir. “A very good answer. Now come and have something
to eat, spend a little precious time with me and Valena and your little
brother who was ecstatic to learn that you had come home unexpectedly.
And then we’ll get you back to that ship before anyone knows you’re
gone. That’s a power we can certainly take advantage of.”
That brief respite in the bosom of his Gallifreyan family was enough to
drive away any lingering doubts about what had taken place between him
and Degea Braxietel. When he was ready he hugged his half-brother and
promised to see him again soon, then he boarded his father’s TARDIS.
A half an hour later he emerged from a ‘linen room’ directly
opposite his cabin aboard the SS Harlan Ellison. He said farewell to his
father and quickly stepped inside the room where Julia was still sleeping.
The clock by the bedside indicated that a mere ten minutes had passed
since he went into the console room and this strange episode had begun.
“Hey, where have you been?” Julia asked as he undressed as
quietly as he could and slipped into the bed. “I woke and you were
gone.”
“Even Time Lords sometimes have to get up in the night to visit
the bathroom,” he answered. He turned and embraced her warm body
and kissed her gently. “Let’s get back to sleep. The alarm
will be going off before you know it.”
Julia sighed softly and snuggled close to him. Chrístõ sighed,
too, and gave a charitable thought to that other Child of Rassilon who
had so much less to look forward to than he had.
|