Time Lords cannot cry. That does not mean
they cannot hurt. That much was obvious to anyone who saw Penne kneeling
beside the body of the young woman in the uniform of his Guardia Real
who had been assigned to protect the Princess. Her throat had been cut.
A crime scene investigator would conclude she was taken by surprise by
an assailant who came up behind her and reached around her neck to slash
just once with a very sharp knife.
“Six more like this,” Sammie said. SAS officers CAN cry but
they try not to. He was biting back his feelings. He held his wife’s
hand tightly. She, too, was holding back her grief. She, too, had come
to know the people they had specially trained to protect the royal palace
and those within it. The deaths of seven of those people all at once shocked
her. The six female soldiers of Penne’s personal bodyguard stood
close to their King with their faces apparently emotionless, but Chrístõ
saw that they all blinked rapidly. He recognised it as his own way of
holding back tears.
“Could we have taught them more?” Bo asked. “Given them
better skills.”
“No,” Sammie assured her. “There was no more we could
do. We trained them well. But this time they failed. A determined enemy
got through.”
Penne stood up from the dead woman and went through to the bedchamber.
There were signs of a struggle. The bedclothes were awry and a china vase
had been smashed on the floor. Sammie bent and picked up a cloth lying
by the bed. He sniffed it warily.
“Chloroform,” he said. “Or something like it.”
“As simple as that,” Chrístõ sighed. “Kill
the guards, knock out the Princess and escape unchallenged.” He
turned to Sammie. “Go to the TARDIS. Run a trace to see if any craft
left the planet. Is she here still on Adano-Gran or have they taken her
beyond our reach?” He went at once. Bo said she was going to arrange
for the bodies to be attended to.
“Have them brought to the great hall,” Penne told her. “They
will lie in state and we will mourn them together at the proper time.
Meanwhile….” He paused as the Ambassador appeared. He looked
grim.
“Videophone message,” he said. “Come quickly.”
He was talking to Penne, but Chrístõ came anyway. In the
drawing room The Ambassador switched on the video screen. None of them
recognised the elderly man who appeared but he was clearly a man of importance,
dressed in silk and satin and with a circlet of gold on his greying head.
“Who are you?” he demanded of Penne. “I have to talk
to my daughter, the Princess Cirena. She must return to Terrigna IV at
once.”
“I am Penne Dúre, King-Emperor of Adano-Ambrado. I regret
to inform you that your daughter has been abducted.”
The King of Terrigna IV blanched at the news. He stepped back from the
video screen as if he had suffered a physical blow.
“Already. It has come to this.” The King looked on the point
of breakdown. “All is lost. My reign crumbles. My enemies are closing
in and now they have my daughter. I am lost.”
“We will get your daughter back,” Penne promised him. “I
have already begun enquiries. I will not rest until she is safe. You may
be assured of that. I…” He paused. “My military forces
are new. Untested in battle. But they are strong. They have been trained
to protect my whole planetary system. But if there is any aid I can offer…”
“Why would you help me?”
“Because your system is the next one to mine, and it matters to
me that it is not taken over by despots. And because… Because in
a very short time I have come to care for your daughter. What matters
to her matters to me. I can have an expeditionary force in your quadrant
within a few hours to assist you.”
“The offer is a kind one.” The King said. “For the moment
I must decline. I cannot, I dare not, involve any other world in this
matter. My enemies would become YOUR enemies and your people would suffer.”
“Your enemies ARE my enemies. Their agents have already caused death
here. They drew first blood.”
“I will remember that I have an ally,” The King told him.
“Please, meantime, do what you can to find my daughter.”
“I’ll do that,” Penne told him. He cut the connection.
He looked at his closest friends and advisors.
“You have a strong military force in terms of numbers,” The
Ambassador told Penne. “You have battleships with the hyperdrive
capability that can reach the Terrigna system in a matter of hours, fighter
pilots who have demonstrated skill at close quarter fighting. But they
have none of them seen battle before. And to try them in a fight for another
man’s territory is a risky enterprise. Whether you win or lose,
your people will blame you for their deaths.”
“Cirena told me about her world last night,” Penne said. “Her
father is a good ruler. But he has a bitter enemy - the leader of the
coalition of the southern continent. He styled himself “General”
and took over part of the army and most of the space fleet. He means to
defeat those loyal to the King and establish military rule.”
Chrístõ looked at his father. “The internal civil
struggles of a world such as Terrigna – that is exactly the kind
of situation our people will not interfere in.”
“Not directly,” the Ambassador said. “We have been known
to indirectly influence such events. When it suits Gallifrey’s own
interests. But in this case, you and I and Penne are the only Time Lords
with an interest in Terrigna IV.”
They both looked at Penne as he used the videophone to call his own military
commanders and tell them to mobilise for war. That he knew how to do.
But the immediate task of rescuing his Princess he was less sure of. He
turned to his friends.
“What do I do?” he asked.
“We go and find out if Sammie has anything to tell us,” Chrístõ
said. They turned to leave but the videophone signalled an incoming message.
They turned back to see a man in the uniform of a General of the army
of Cirena’s home planet. Penne knew at once it was the ‘General’
of the opposition army.
“You will pass this message to the King of Terrigna IV. If he wishes
to see his daughter again he must give up his throne and all claim to
titles and land and leave the planet within eighteen Terrignan hours.”
“A General resorts to abduction?” Chrístõ looked
at the man curiously.
“This is my last offer. If civil war is to be avoided the King must
abdicate. If he will not do so for the wellbeing of his people, he will
do it for his daughter.”
The connection was severed. Chrístõ immediately went to
the videophone control. He typed quickly on the console and the screen
filled with apparently incoherent data.
“You can’t be trying to trace the call?” Penne said
to him. “It was too short. And he is sure to have used a scrambler.”
“Yes it was, and he did. But it was only coming from a relatively
short distance. What is the second planet from your sun called?”
“A-A2,” Penne told him. “It's one of the colony planets.
We have mining camps and a small space port there. That’s all.”
“You have a Princess there,” Chrístõ said. “Come
on. My TARDIS.” Bo appeared at the door as they turned once more
to go.
“Bo,” Penne said. “We need the Operaciones Especiales.
Two squads.”
Bo nodded and went to organise the elite
force. Chrístõ looked around at his father who nodded to
indicate that their actions were the correct ones. Chrístõ
thought momentarily of many occasions when he wished he had that nod from
his father – wiser and more experienced than he could ever hope
to be – as sanction for his actions. Too often difficult decisions
were his alone to make. For once, he felt grateful for the moral support
his father was there to give him.
“I will contact the King again,” The Ambassador said. “I
will let him know that demands have been made through us. I will try to
find out about the immediate political situation. Perhaps my skills as
a negotiator may be of use. - though I don’t hold out much hope.
This military coup has been coming for some time.”
Chrístõ nodded in return and then he and Penne sprinted
down the hall, his faithful bodyguard following, out to the garden where
the TARDIS had been left in its ornamental folly disguise. Sammie was
there already. Bo and the two six person squads of the Adano-Ambrado special
forces followed quickly. They, like their comrades of the Guardia Real
were surprised by their mode of transport, but took the word of their
commander-in-chief, their King-Emperor, that it was the very best transport
for a covert extraction operation.
“What about Terry?” Sammie asked.
“He and Cassie are as well out of this,” Chrístõ
said. “Cassie definitely can’t be involved. And Terry needs
to look after her.”
Sammie thought about that for a moment as he took up the navigation position
at the console.
“If you mean to take on those hazardous presets for the Time Lords
there are going to be a lot more situations where we’ll have to
let Terry wait behind to look after Cassie.”
“Yes, I know,” Chrístõ sighed as he set the
TARDIS in flight to the second planet of the Adano-Ambrado system. “I
miss them both at the controls here. They are both better navigators than
you.”
“They had more practice. You skipped about the universe with them
for six months at least before I fell in your door.”
“Terry and Cassie WILL want to go home sooner or later anyway,”
Chrístõ mused. “Even if they don’t, they should.
Their baby should be born on Earth. It has to have that sense of place,
of belonging. It must have its roots somewhere.”
“We should have those roots, too,” Bo reflected. “Sammie
and I… Now that we have done as much as we can in training Penne’s
army, we ought to think about the future.”
“I was hoping you might both stay here,” Penne told them.
“As my special military advisors.”
“We’ve thought about it,” Sammie said. “And there
are good reasons to do so. After all, neither of us has any place to go
back to on Earth. Even so, we both do feel that it IS our home. It’s
where we’re from, even if we’re not from the same century.”
Chrístõ concentrated on the drive console, even though there
was nothing he needed to do to pilot the TARDIS the relatively short distance
to the colony planet. Whether they stayed on Earth or on Adano-Ambrado
they would be leaving HIM. The three months he had spent on his own were
tolerable because he knew it was only an interlude. But to leave all his
friends and go on without them was a lonely prospect. He looked into the
dark corner of the console room. He saw Humphrey’s shadowy form
there. He would be sad, too. Without the ‘nice ladies’ as
he called them, Chrístõ wasn’t sure the wandering
life had anything to offer even their ‘boggart’. He’d
have to think about finding a new home for Humphrey, too.
“Will they be able to detect our arrival?” Penne asked. “We
need the element of surprise.”
“Not in the TARDIS,” Chrístõ said. “There’s
no scanner or detector outside of Gallifrey itself that can detect a TARDIS
approaching.”
“So… what’s the plan?” Sammie asked. Chrístõ
realised they were all looking to him. It was hard to say who ought to
be in command right now. Sammie and Bo were effectively the commanders
of the military unit. Penne was their ruler. He, when all was said and
done, was the outsider. But they all looked to him instinctively. Penne,
especially, looked uncertain of himself now. He had promised he would
rescue the Princess. But when it came down to it, he was not a fairy tale
Prince Valiant. And there was much more to it than charging to the top
of the highest tower cutting down dragons and ogres in his path.
He put the TARDIS into orbit over the planet. It was a dry looking place
with very little water, but a breathable atmosphere. Chrístõ
set the scanner to plot the life signs on the mostly uninhabited planet.
They mainly centred on a single settlement, the township of Nuevo II.
Beyond the settlement, which had grown around the spaceport and the principle
mining camp, there were smaller centres where Human activity was going
on.
Penne looked at the screen and sighed.
“This makes me seem like a terrible leader,” he said. “But
although I sent colonists to these planets this is my first visit to one
of them. I have no idea what is normal and what may be an enemy encampment.”
“Sire,” one of his personal guards spoke up. He recognised
her as being called Ruana Beccan and she wore the insignia of a Lieutenant.
“Sire, my brother is chief of the mining operations. I have visited
this planet many times.” Penne stood back to allow her to view the
screen. “This isn’t right,” she said after studying
the lifesigns for a few minutes. “This area here was one of the
first test mines, but it was abandoned after only a few weeks because
the gems taken from it were impure. The mine at Neuvo II proved to have
a better yield and the first mine was closed. But this indicates a great
deal of activity around it.” Chrístõ refined the scan,
closing in on the area. “Yes,” Lieutenant Beccan said. “Those
patterns show spacecraft have landed there. And there are far more lifesigns
than an abandoned mine ought to have.”
“Sounds like our target,” Sammie said. Penne agreed. He looked
at his soldiers - the six of his personal bodyguard and the twelve special
forces men and women, trained for just this sort of operation but never
yet tested in real combat. He was not exactly experienced himself. He
had a reputation as a military leader. He had become ruler of a solar
system-wide Empire through conquest. But only by the most unusual circumstances
had he beaten the former rulers of Adano-Gran and Ambrado-Uno. His rise
from Lord of the smallest of the three inhabited planets to King-Emperor
over them all was an incredible fluke and he would be the first to admit
it. A moment of self-doubt took him. Then he drew himself up and faced
them all AS King-Emperor, as commander-in-chief, and sent the Operaciones
Especiales under Bo and Sammie’s command to scout the area and find
out exactly how strong the enemy was.
The Gallifreyan Ambassador to the Empire of Adano-Ambrado was drinking
orange juice in the breakfast room. Terry and Cassie came in. Cassie was
still at the stage in her pregnancy when mornings were difficult. The
Ambassador allowed himself a wistful remembrance of when his first wife
was carrying their only child. She had suffered from what Humans called
Morning Sickness for nearly seven months of the sixteen it took for a
Gallifreyan child to be born. Cassie would have a much easier time of
it with only a nine month pregnancy. He smiled indulgently and stood to
hold a chair for her before pouring her a glass of the fresh, cool, juice.
“Where is everyone?” Terry asked and was astonished when the
Ambassador told him what had transpired in the night.
“They just let us sleep?” He was indignant. “Chrístõ
just took the others off in the TARDIS and he didn’t even tell me?”
“What could you do?” Cassie asked him. “I’m sorry
for Princess Cirena. She is nice. I talked to her for ages last night.
And she wasn’t at all snobby like I thought a Princess would be.
But I don’t want you going off and risking your life for her. I
need you more.”
“Cassie is correct,” the Ambassador said. “Your duty
is here, Terry, looking after your young wife and your child.” He
smiled at Cassie. “There is nothing sweeter and more miraculous
than new life. I remember when Chrístõ was born. After so
many years I am to be a father again in only a few weeks. And despite
the difficulties I know when I see my new son he will be all I hoped.”
“Chrístõ isn’t happy about that, is he,”
Cassie said. “Your new child – a pureblood Gallifreyan. He
feels….”
“I know what he feels. I hope he will feel differently when his
brother is born. But even if he does not, my love for him – for
both my children – will be unabated.”
“It's funny he can accept Penne as a ‘brother’ and even
call him that, but not…”
“Yes.” The Ambassador sighed. “Though I can almost see
how that would be. Penne – despite who he really is – a son
of the House of Ixion – he has a place in my hearts, too. I would
adopt him as my own if it were permitted. It would give me pleasure if
he called me father as he calls Chrístõ brother.”
“I really disliked Penne when we first met him,” Terry said.
“He has changed a lot. Even though he is an Emperor now, not just
a Lord, he’s less snobbish now than he was then.”
“I hope he’ll be all right,” Cassie said with a sigh.
“I hope they’ll all be all right. Penne, Chrístõ,
Sammie and Bo. And the people they have with them.”
“My own thoughts are with them,” the Ambassador said. “But
I am also concerned about the situation on Terrigna IV. The King’s
forces have little chance of success. He will be deposed, possibly killed.
His only hope is the promise of an expeditionary force from Adano-Ambrado.
But that means a local civil war becomes an inter-planetary matter. And
the responsibility for that lies squarely on Penne’s shoulders.”
“Like the Americans in Vietnam,” Terry said. He didn’t
expect the Ambassador to understand that reference, but he did. And he
agreed. And he didn’t want to see Penne’s Empire dragged into
a long drawn out fight with thousands of casualties causing bitterness
among his own people.
“How did the kidnappers know where Cirena’s room was?”
Cassie said out of the blue as Terry coaxed her to eat some breakfast.
Both men stared at her. The Ambassador’s expression hardened. The
simple question was such an obvious one. He wondered how he had not thought
of it himself.
“There is a traitor in the palace,”
he said. “Terry, make your young wife comfortable in the drawing
room then come along with me. You and I must become an investigative team
again.”
“It looks as if the Princess is below
in the mine,” Sammie reported when he and the reconnaissance group
returned to the TARDIS disguised as a rock formation with a dark opening
that might be a cave. “There is a heavy guard on the mine entrance.
Armed men patrolling the outer perimeter fence.”
“And another thing,” Bo said. “The General… He
left while we were watching. He had a space shuttle parked – a small
one.”
“The sort that would be used to travel up to a ship in orbit,”
one of the men said. “He must have reinforcements up there.”
“Or he’s hurrying back to direct
his civil war,” Chrístõ added.
General Baqra Geint WAS hurrying back to direct
his civil war. He had handled the abduction of the Princess himself. But
now she was safely incarcerated where neither the Terrignan loyal forces
nor the Adano-Ambradan’s were likely to look. He didn’t need
to waste any more time on that matter. His goal was in sight, one way
or another. If the King abdicated the coup might be relatively bloodless.
It might even be confined to the single life of the King himself –
in a public execution that sent a clear signal to his followers.
No, he thought. The Princess would have to be killed as well. Otherwise
those still loyal would gather about her as a figurehead for their cause
and attempt to restore the monarchy.
Well, it might be worth returning to that miserable rock to do the job
himself. He recalled the satisfaction of the silent kill, a sharp knife
through the soft part of the neck, the slight resistance when it went
through the trachea, the warm spurt of blood from the jugular. A Princess’s
neck would cut just as easily.
He laughed coldly as he felt the change in
the engines as the battle cruiser entered hyperdrive to return to the
Terrignan system.
“Eighteen Terrignan hours?” Terry
mused as he walked beside the Ambassador to the quarters where the Princess
Cirena’s retinue were lodged overnight. “The time the General
gave the king. Stupid question, but how long is that in our hours?”
The Ambassador gave the matter about half a minutes’ thought. “Gallifreyan
and Earth hours are the same length,” he said. “Although we
have 26 such hours in our day. Terrignan hours are shorter. Eighteen Terrignan
hours are about nine of OUR hours. And by Adano Gran time which is slightly
different again, it's a little less than six.”
“That’s not very long,” Terry said. “Do Chrístõ
and Penne realise that?”
“Good question.” The Ambassador made a mental note to contact
them as soon as he could.
“Why can’t you just contact Chrístõ by telepathy?”
“I can’t just do that when he’s offworld. I’d
need to go into a meditative trance and focus on reaching him. I can’t
really do that here and now.”
“So it's not like a sort of radio you can tune in and out of.”
“No. Telepathic contact requires deep concentration and a lot of
care. Used wrongly it can overload the brain and kill one or both parties.
Besides, he’s an adolescent - I’m his father. Gallifreyan
young tend to resent the intrusion of their parents into their private
thoughts.”
“Yeah.” Terry smiled. “I used to feel that way about
my bedroom before I left home.”
“We’re not so different as we think we are,” The Ambassador
observed.
“One thing you have to realise,” Chrístõ said.
“If you want any element of surprise you have to get there on your
own. The TARDIS is a stealth ship in space. It can’t be detected
by anything apart from another TARDIS. And then only if the other TARDIS
pilot has the key to the lock on the Dimensional Recognition Device. But
when it materialises or dematerialises it makes an unholy noise and displaces
air. You KNOW when it's about. I can’t get you any closer without
alerting the guards.”
“Ok, so we go in under cover of night,” Sammie said. “The
Especiales are trained for that sort of thing.”
“We can’t wait that long,” Bo protested. “They
have an innocent girl there. They could be hurting her right now.”
She shuddered as she thought of some of the things she knew men could
do to a girl who was unable to fight back.
“Sunset is an hour away,” Chrístõ told them.
Bo looked at him in surprise. “Yes, I know it's only a couple of
hours since dawn on Adano Gran. But Adano Gran has a different orbit to
A-A2. Here it's nearly the end of the day.”
Bo didn’t QUITE understand. Even after travelling in space and time
with Chrístõ, after a year living on a planet hundreds of
light years from Earth with a completely different sun, moon and stars
to those she knew, in her heart she could not quite overcome the traditional
belief of her people that the Earth was the centre of the universe and
the sun, stars and moon lights fixed upon the cloth of the sky.
But if Chrístõ told her it was almost nightfall when her
brain told her dawn was only a little while ago, then she believed him.
She turned to her six person squad and began to brief them on what they
were going to do to extract the Princess from her subterranean prison.
Sammie turned to his squad and briefed them on giving cover to the extraction
squad.
Penne looked at them and wondered what his role in all this was. For now,
it was simply to wait and to worry. He was desperately worried about Cirena.
He was worried about the people he was sending into immediate danger to
rescue her. He was worried about the five hyperspace battle-cruisers he
had in orbit. They awaited his word to go into battle for the first time,
not for Adano-Ambrado as they expected, but for a world they hardly knew.
Meanwhile, down on the ground, on all three of the major planets, his
regular army were mobilising to defend his people if there was any attempt
at a retaliatory attack.
He worried about his people. He worried if
he would still have their love and respect if his concern for one woman
proved too costly for them.
Cirena’s travelling entourage included
six ladies in waiting, three maids, a footman, and the crew of the stellar
craft that brought her to Adano-Gran. At the Ambassador’s command,
they were all assembled in the King’s dining room. All were subdued.
The Princess’s abduction and the unrest on their home planet worried
them all. But one, the Ambassador knew, had another anxiety. That one
was anxious about being discovered as the traitor who let the abductors
into the palace to abduct and to murder.
The Ambassador sat at a table facing them, looking, Terry thought, like
a magistrate sitting in judgement over them. He took a seat at the end
of the table as if acting as his clerk. The Terrignan’s came forward
one at a time to answer questions and give account of themselves. None
thought to question his authority to do so. One look at the Ambassador’s
face seemed to settle the argument.
His questions were brief. Terry wrote down names and their alibi for the
night. But he knew the Ambassador was scanning each of them telepathically
to find the guilty mind behind the frightened faces.
He found it. One of the ladies in waiting, by name of Leia Groeding, told
the Ambassador that she had slept the night soundly and knew nothing.
But inside her mind he saw a seething guilt. The woman had been shocked
by the easy way her comrades murdered the palace guards. It had troubled
her mind all day. But she was in no doubt about her loyalty to her uncle,
Baqra Geint. She had done her uncle’s bidding willingly, believing
firmly in her heart that the King should be deposed, and a military government
under the General put in place for the good of all Terrignans.
Ridiculous! The Ambassador thought. He’d seen worlds crying out
for a revolution against despotic governments. But Terrigna was not one
of those. Besides, he had seen many Kingdoms that were content. He had
NEVER seen contentment within a society ruled by the military.
He said nothing to the woman. He let her go on thinking her secret was
safe as he dismissed them all.
“That was a waste of time,” Terry said as he closed his notebook.
“You think?” The Ambassador smiled
grimly. “The one in red. Wait a few minutes. Then we follow her.”
“No,” Sammie’s voice was
adamant. “No, you CAN’T come with us.”
“I am commander-in-chief of these troops. Of YOU,” Penne argued.
“If I wish to lead them in this, who can deny me?”
“I CAN,” Sammie repeated. “And you are NOT my commander-in-chief
in point of fact. I am not an oath-sworn member of your military force.
I am their trainer, in a temporary capacity. And my tenure ends when we
get back from this mission with your Princess.”
“He’s right,” Chrístõ told him, laying
a brotherly hand on his arm. “You’re good with a sword or
pistol, but you’re not trained in covert operations. Nor am I. You
have to leave it to them.”
“Sire!” Ruana Beccan spoke up. “You must remain here.
You cannot risk your life. Where would we all be without you? The Empire
of Adano-Ambrado is not the planets of the solar system. It is YOU, my
Lord. You united us and made us a single entity with a common purpose.
If you die, we will be fighting among ourselves in weeks. You MUST let
us protect you.”
“We have no more time to discuss it,” Sammie said. “We
have to move.” He lifted his own M-16 assault rifle and held it
ready. There was a metallic echo as his troops, blacked up ready for a
night operation, did the same with their 25th century versions of the
same gun. The Adano-Ambrado army was green, but it was well equipped.
The diamonds and rubies and other mineral wealth of the system had bought
the best ordnance in the galaxy.
Chrístõ opened the doors and the two squads moved out. As
they melted into the darkness his Gallifreyan eyes with their night vision
stayed on Bo, dressed in camouflage and blacked out face, yet unmistakeably
feminine in her movements. It was almost impossible to reconcile the delicate
oriental flower that he and Sammie both loved with this shadowy figure
capable of dealing sudden death to her enemies. But they were one and
the same. So much had she grown since he rescued her from a life of misery
as the bedroom slave of a blackguard.
“Show me how to contact my ships,” Penne said, looking at
the communications console.
“Not yet,” Chrístõ
told him. “We have to maintain radio silence until we have everyone
back on board. Then you can give the command.
They tailed the woman stealthily. Terry knew
that the Ambassador was more than just a politician. In his younger days
he had been a special operative. Stalking a woman who had no idea she
was even suspected was a simple manoeuvre for him. The two young women
of the Guardia Real he brought with him were equally skilled at moving
unobtrusively, even dressed in the distinctive powder blue uniforms.
Leia Groeding slipped into the room. It was
quiet. Her roommates were still consoling each other over cups of tea.
She reached under the bed, pulled out the portable burst transmitter,
and began to send a coded message to her uncle.
The door opened. Leia span around and stared as the Ambassador and the
Human male entered the room, followed by two of the palace guards.
“What message are you sending?” he asked her sternly. She
tried to deny it but the burst transmitter was irrefutable evidence of
her guilt.
“I sent a report to say that the King of this planet has gone to
try to rescue the Princess. He will fail. My uncle will ensure his death
along with hers. He will add Adano-Ambrado to HIS empire when he is ruler
of the Terrigna system.”
“You are as mad as he is,” Terry said as the Guardia Real
put her under arrest.
“Take her away and secure her,” the Ambassador told the guards.
“Make sure she has food and drink and no means of hurting herself.
Her fate will lie with the Princess. She may want to return her to Terrigna
to face their justice, or she may let Penne’s courts try her for
crimes committed here. Either way she is too dangerous to be allowed to
go free.” He turned to Terry. “We’ll let Chrístõ
know he can expect trouble. Then let us return to your lady, who will,
doubtless, be fretting for you.”
“I’ve only been away from her a few hours,” Terry said.
“Surely she won’t fret THAT much?”
“You don’t know pregnant women,”
The Ambassador told him. “They need us more than they let on.”
He sighed as he thought of his own wife and the rift between them and
hoped that one of these days SHE might need him.
Sammie’s team took out the guards with
silenced and laser-sighted guns. They concealed the bodies and took their
places. One shadowy guard looked much like another in the dark. They bought
Bo and her team time to get into the mine and find the Princess.
“This way,” she told her team as she checked the portable
life signs indicator on her wrist. It didn’t work as effectively
as the one in the TARDIS. Even if it did, this was a diamond mine, with
any number of other minerals and rock strata layered into it. Signals
bounced off the walls and confused the indicator. But generally she knew
just how many people there were ahead of them and where. She knew she
and her team were going to have to kill most of them. Despite being trained
in methods of killing people silently and quickly and effectively, she
also respected life in all its forms and taking it disturbed her. But
she had trained these soldiers to defend Adano-Ambrado and its people.
And that meant that, sometimes, they had to kill.
Besides, these people had kidnapped a young woman. They meant her harm.
She was fighting back an urge to rip them apart with her bare hands out
of vengeance for every moment of fear and pain she had gone through herself
at the hands of her own abductors.
Making it not personal was a problem for
her.
General Baqra Geint’s ship came out
of hyperdrive on the edge of the Terrignan system. There were five planets
in the solar system. The one closest to the sun had a sulphur atmosphere
and was useless as anything but an interesting light moving across the
sky and marking the seasons of the year. The fifth was a frozen giant
inhospitable to life outside of the hermetically sealed habitats of the
survey geologists. Of the other three, two were good for nothing but farming.
While Adano-Ambrado grew rich from the precious minerals of its colony
planets Terrigna fed itself. Terrigna IV, the central planet was overpopulated.
It needed firm government. It needed enforced restrictions on childbirth
to reduce the population. It needed compulsory relocation to the colony
planets for the unemployed. It needed, in short, organising.
Baqra Geint knew how he wanted it organising. Free thought? A licence
to anarchy. Thought should not be free. Thought should be regulated. People
should be regulated.
Subjugated?
Yes. He was not afraid of the word. Yes. Subjugated. Kept down, kept quiet,
kept efficient.
And it didn’t need a King.
It didn’t need at least half the population of the planet. He wondered
if he could get away with culling them directly.
When he was President, he could do what he
wanted. Line them up and kill every other man, woman or child in the line.
When he was President he could do that.
The mine was heavily guarded. But they had
the element of surprise. They got through the main tunnel without losing
any of their squad. They left a trail of death behind them. Bo’s
conscience fought its own battle between hatred of those people for what
they had done and her repugnance for taking life.
The Princess. She was what mattered. She was the innocent party in all
of this. She was the reason they were there.
The lifesigns indicator showed that the tunnel opened out ahead into a
cavern, either natural or manmade. There were a dozen or so people in
the cavern. One of them, behind some kind of barrier, was almost certainly
the Princess. She silently indicated to her troops what they had to do.
They had the element of surprise. But they had a fight of it. Two of her
squad fell as the guards responded to the assault. Two dead for the Princess’s
life. Nine, Bo amended, remembering the seven already killed. As she crossed
the floor pulling her Shaolin sword from its sheath on her back she reminded
herself that THEY started this by killing her people and kidnapping a
woman. The dead and dying enemy deserved no sympathy from her.
The crackle of a radio transmitter made her spin around. She launched
a deadly throwing star at the head of the communications officer. But
it looked as if he had already sent a message. Their one mistake. He should
have been taken out first and the transmitter destroyed.
“Break radio silence,” Bo said to her own communications officer
with a portable radio. “Warn Sammie…. Warn the backup squad
I mean.”
Sammie acknowledged the message that reinforcements were coming without
emotion. He got his people in position and prepared to stand their ground
moments before four shuttle craft descended. They would have twenty to
thirty men in each, he guessed. He didn’t like those odds. He lined
up the grenade launcher and fired. Two of the shuttles became mid air
fireballs that fell erratically, one crashing into the third and taking
it down with it. But the fourth landed safely, troops pouring out of it
even as he lined up his sites once again to fire a high explosive grenade.
The fourth shuttle exploded. There was no escape for those Terrignan troops
who were already clear of the blast. He had narrowed the odds, but enough
of the enemy remained to give his squad a fight of it.
Bo looked at the locked door to a closed off cell at the back of the cavern.
The only other unaccounted life-sign was behind it. She raised her sword
and sliced the lock from the solid door. As she opened it, the Princess
drew back from the sudden light, blinking and crying for mercy.
“Come quickly,” Bo said gently as she reached out a hand to
her.
“Who is it?” the Princess asked, unable to make out more than
a silhouette in the doorway.
“I am Hui Ying Bo Juan,” she told her. “I am here to
bring you to safety. To the King-Emperor who cares for you so much he
risks his Empire to defend you.”
“Penne?” she asked. “He sent you for me?”
“He is near, waiting for you.” Bo lifted the woman up. She
was not a Princess just now, only a frightened woman who was still not
certain she was safe.
And she wasn’t, yet. As they made their
way back up the tunnel they could hear gunfire outside. Sammie’s
squad had silencers, so she didn’t hear their responding fire, but
she knew there was a fight going on at their only exit from the mine.
“Come on,” Penne said when they
heard the situation report. “We’ve got to get in there. And
get my flight command on communications now.”
Chrístõ nodded. Covert operation was no longer an issue.
He made contact with the flagship of the space fleet and let Penne tell
the captain to stand by. Then he dematerialised the TARDIS. It rematerialised
exactly where he intended it to be – directly in front of the mine
entrance, the door facing into the mine. As they opened the doors they
saw Bo’s squad approaching. The troops fanned out and joined their
comrades fighting the Terrignan reinforcements. The King’s bodyguard
got into position to give covering fire as Bo and the Princess ran for
the safety of the TARDIS.
“We have the Princess,” Penne told his fleet commander. “Get
the fleet to Terrigna as fast as you can. There’s nothing stopping
the general from launching his attack on the capital city now.”
That done he turned and went to Cirena. He embraced her in his arms. She
looked at him as if he personally had rescued her just like a fairy tale
prince.
“I’ll never let you out of my sight again,” he told
her as he kissed her gently. “Never again.”
“I never want to be anywhere else,” she replied.
Chrístõ allowed himself a smile.
So love at first sight DID exist. He was happy for them. That tender moment
was a mere interlude, however. Their feelings for each other were still
peripheral to the far bigger picture of a war that still had to be fought
for the sake of Cirena’s home world.
Sammie glanced at the TARDIS – it had
not bothered with a disguise. It appeared simply as a wide rectangular
box of a grey metallic colour with the symbols of Rassilon that designated
it of Gallifreyan origin and the
that marked it as Chrístõ’s own ship. He wondered
if that was its ‘default’ shape.
“The Princess is safe,” he called to his troops. “Fall
back into the ship.”
He himself took the rearguard, the last to reach the TARDIS door. He took
down the last three of the enemy in his retreat. The guns fell silent
at last. But he had to step over the bodies of two of his own as he did
so. They had not had it all their own way.
Four dead, three wounded. Bo was giving first aid to one of them as he
stepped into the TARDIS and Chrístõ closed the door. The
Princess left Penne’s side and knelt by one of the wounded men.
She did her best for him, but he was dying. All she could do was give
comfort.
Chrístõ set the TARDIS to return to the palace then he came
to the side of the dying man. He looked at the Princess. She was crying.
“Don’t let him die,” she said as she cradled the man
in her arms. “Not for me. I don’t want people to die for me.”
“You’re a Princess,” he told her. “People WILL
die for you. It goes with the territory. Somebody will always be there
to take a bullet for you.” He examined the man. He WAS beyond all
help. Chrístõ could only do one thing. He passed his hand
over the man’s forehead and took his pain away. He died quietly,
painlessly, in the arms of a beautiful woman. There were worse ways.
The other two wounded he was better able to help. He had them moved to
his medical room where he had skill enough as a surgeon to remove bullets
from flesh and suture the wounds. Lieutenant Ruana Becccan and the young
man of the Especiales whose name he did not know would both live. He was
glad of that.
But he knew there would be far more deaths
before this day was done. The two lives he had saved were a small victory.
The rescue of the princess only the first act of the great drama unfolding.
The Ambassador had turned the royal drawing
room into a communications centre. Two more video screens had been set
up. On the main screen, he was talking to the King of Terrigna IV. Meanwhile
in his peripheral vision he watched the progress of Penne’s fleet
through hyperspace and the bombardment of the Terrignan Capital that had
begun as soon as the rescue of the Princess had been reported.
“If we hadn’t tried to get the Princess, would it have been
better?” Terry asked. “Could we have bought them time by leaving
her with her captors a little longer?”
“No,” The Ambassador told him with certainty. “I’ve
negotiated peace treaties between the most argumentative races in the
universe. I was doing that the day my son was born. I’ve done it
time and time again since. And I know when a party is not interested in
peace. Baqra Geint is NOT interested in peace. He wants bloody war on
those who oppose him. He wants the capital in ruins and millions dead
so that the other millions will obey him. The man is a dangerous lunatic.
I only wonder why those who follow him don’t realise it.”
“We’ve had madman leading people in Earth history,”
Terry said. “Have you heard of Adolf Hitler?”
“I have,” the Ambassador said.
“Chrístõ spoke earlier about our people not interfering
in merely internal affairs of other planets… I pleaded for THAT
man’s dealings to be an exception to the rule. I regret that the
Council ruled against me. They would rule against my direct interference
here, too. But events have overtaken us.”
Bo took the dead man to lie with the others
in the great hall. She thought sadly of four others whose bodies remained
on A-A2, as well as the countless enemy dead. She knelt before the eight
silent biers and bowed her head, her sword on the floor in front of her
as she paid tribute to those who had died honourably. She hoped they had
not died futilely. She hoped there would not be so many more that these
eight paled into insignificance.
She remembered the day the slavers had come
to her village. She had been there only by chance, visiting her family
for a few days before returning to her chosen life of contemplation and
learning. The men of the village had put up a fight. She had fought along
with them, and she had killed many of the slavers. But they were too strong.
Her last memory of her home village was the smoke rising from it as the
slavers set what had no value to them alight. She knew her parents were
among the dead. She had never truly mourned their loss. Her own nightmare
had begun from that moment. It had not ended for five years, until Chrístõ
and his friends came and woke her from it. Now, in the company of the
dead of another battle in another place, she mourned for all the needless
death that she had seen in her relatively young life.
The Princess ran into the drawing room followed
by Penne and Chrístõ. She cried with joy when she saw her
father on the video screen. His eyes lit with relief and delight, too.
For a moment, nothing else mattered than that she was alive and able to
talk to her father again.
But the fact remained that he was talking to her from a palace under bombardment.
All was still in doubt.
“Father,” Cirena told him. “The Adano Ambrado fleet
is on its way.” She looked at Penne for confirmation. He was watching
the two screens that showed the Terrigna battle ships bombarding the planet
and the Adano-Ambradan fleet coming out of hyperspace and moving into
intercept formation.
“It may be too late,” the King said. “There are thousands
dead already in the capital. The palace here stands only by sheer chance.
A direct hit and we will be destroyed.”
“Father, my friend here…” she pointed to Chrístõ.
“He has a ship that could bring you to safety.”
“Yes, I could,” Chrístõ told them, wondering
why he had not thought of it.
“I cannot desert the people,” The King said. “That would
be dishonourable. I have never done a dishonourable thing. Even Baqra
Geint cannot lay any such accusation against me, for all he finds objectionable
to my reign.”
“Sir, nobody would think the less of you…” Chrístõ
began.
“I would think less of me,” he replied. “Can your ship
save all of my people?”
“No,” Chrístõ admitted. “I would have
time to evacuate those within your palace if you can gather them together.”
“Those outside my palace would still be left at the mercy of my
enemy while I escape. No. I ask the Adano-Ambradan King to give my daughter
asylum. And the few of our people who are with her….”
“Sir,” Penne said, his arm around Cirena’s shoulder.
“I mean to make your daughter my Queen in the fullness of time.
She shall be loved and cared for.”
“Cirena,” the King replied. “Are you happy with this
arrangement? It is very sudden.”
“I love him, father,” she told him. “Though I have known
him only a short time I do love him. But for this trouble at home I should
be very happy.”
“Then you have my blessing,” the King assured them both. “My
last wish is fulfilled. My daughter is safe and happy. If I must die,
I die content.”
“No!” Cirena cried. She turned to Chrístõ. “Please
go there. Bring him to safety.”
“I think I ought to try,” Chrístõ agreed. “I
understand his reasons, but he cannot throw his life away while there
is a chance I could rescue him.” Chrístõ turned and
ran to his TARDIS. He knew it would be a close thing. Time Lord he may
be, with a ship capable of travelling in space and time. But the laws
of causality must be observed. He could not turn back the clock and arrive
on Terrigna before the bombardment that was now going on. He COULD set
his TARDIS to arrive in the same moment he left this location, even thought
it would take him an hour in his own personal time to make the journey.
But he could not go back on that personal time. What had happened had
to stay happened.
These immutable laws that he had learnt as
theory as a student were written not by his people, but by nature, by
physics. Breaking them did not just earn severe penalties under Time Lord
law. They could destroy the universe if the paradox was severe enough.
“Treachery!” Baqra Geint’s
voice echoed around the room as the video screen showing the Terrignan
battle fleet changed to an incoming communication from within the flagship.
“Why have the warships of Adano-Ambrado entered our system? No declaration
of war has been made. It is an act of piracy.”
“You were not so fussy a few hours
ago when you murdered my people and abducted the Princess,” Penne
replied coolly. “You committed the piracy. But if you wish a formal
declaration of war then so be it.” He turned to the other screen
and connected with his own fleet commander. “As of this moment a
state of war exists between Adano-Ambrado and the military usurpers of
Terrigna IV.” He was informing his own people as well as Baqra Geint.
In the same breath he turned to his fleet commander. His tone was decisive
as he told him to “Open Fire!”
Adano-Ambrado was a new military force, but the mineral resources of the
system had bought the best ships available, and if the crews were untried
in war they knew what they had been trained to do. They did it well. As
their battleships opened fire on the Terrignan ships their small, light,
but deadly fighter craft emerged like wasps from a nest and engaged with
the Terrignan fighters.
Dogfights in space. Terry left Earth before Star Wars gave Humans a cultural
frame of reference for this kind of warfare. The best he could muster
was the Battle of Britain. But he reminded himself this was not a film
he was watching but real life and death as the Adano-Ambrado fighters
outpaced the slower, older Terrignan craft. Meanwhile the battle cruisers
fired heavy missiles at each other. Both had shields but the Adano-Ambradan
ships had better. One of the four Terrignan cruisers took a direct hit
to its power drive and exploded instantly, taking with it four Terrignan
and one Adano-Ambradan fighter that were caught in the blast. In response
four Terrignan fighters tried a Kamikaze run at the Adano-Ambradan flagship
but they rebounded off the shield and were shot down before they could
regroup.
A second Terrignan ship was badly crippled
by Adano-Ambradan torpedoes and was sent hurtling into the Terrignan moon.
Meanwhile the dogfight was almost over. The last of the Terrignan fighters
burned up in the atmosphere of the planet as the Adano-Ambradan squadron
drew back to defend their mothership.
“We’re finished,” Geint’s
second in command said to him as they watched the radar screen and saw
too many blips representing their ships wink out. “Sir, we must
surrender.”
“I will not,” Geint snarled and made contact with his only
other remaining ship. “Attack their flagship,” he ordered.
“We cannot,” the captain of the ship told him. “We have
taken too many hits. Our weapons array is damaged. We have nothing to
fight with – even if we had their shields are impenetrable.”
“Ram it,” Geint ordered. “Fly into it at full speed.
The shield cannot withstand THAT. Sacrifice yourselves to the glory of
Terrigna.”
“Sir…” the captain stared at him in disbelief.
“Sir…you cannot….” His second in command began.
“I order you,” Geint screamed and cut off the communication.
He watched as the ship turned and began to accelerate towards the Ambradan
flagship. He turned away from the screen as the two ships fell from orbit
in a blazing, tangled wreckage. He was smiling in satisfaction at wounding
his enemy so grievously.
“Sir!” His second in command was outraged. “You sacrificed
our people and theirs when we had already lost. That was….. That
was barbaric.”
“Was it indeed?” Baqra Geint snarled “Not as barbaric
as this…” And he laid in a course on the navigation panel
of the last remaining Terrignan ship. The second-in-command stared at
the course setting as the ship turned and began to descend through the
atmosphere.
“The Central Caldera?” the man
gasped in alarm. “You mean to fly the ship into it?”
“I’ll have victory one way or
another.”
“You’ll destroy the planet. You would cause an eruption that
would rip Terrigna IV to pieces.”
“If I cannot rule, nobody shall,”
Baqra Geint vowed, his eyes glittering insanely. His second-in-command
realised, too late, that the General was quite utterly, murderously, mad.
All three screens went blank at the same moment.
Cirena screamed as the connection with her father was cut. Penne tried
to make contact with his fleet while the Ambassador tried to re-establish
the videophone link with the palace on Terrigna IV.
“Where’s Chrístõ?” Cassie suddenly cried.
“Was he… is he…”
“I don’t know,” the Ambassador said. “He hadn’t
reached the palace. I know that much.” He put his hand on the Princess’s
arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t
reach your father. It isn’t just interference. There is no connection
to be made on the other end. I fear the worst.”
But he had no idea what the worst was. Only when Penne connected at last
with his fleet did any of them realise what had happened. The shocked
face of the captain of the second ship, now acting as flagship, appeared
on screen.
“Sire,” he exclaimed. “Your majesty – The planet
is gone. It was blown to pieces.” He pressed a button in front of
him and they looked with horror at the scene. Where there had been a planet
with a population of a billion, now there was nothing but burning rocks
and a moon split into two misshapen asteroids that careened off into orbits
of their own. “One of our ships was damaged in the blast. It has
lost hyperdrive. With your permission, sire, the remaining ships will
escort it back to Adano-Ambrado by standard drive. It will take us 26
hours, but we will not leave our comrades behind.”
“Do that,” Penne said. “And well done. You fought well.
You have proved that Adano-Ambrado is capable of protecting itself and
its allies, too. When you return, we will mourn those we have lost and
rejoice for those we have saved.”
“Is Chrístõ one of those we have lost?” Terry
asked as he held Cassie by the shoulder. He looked around. All those who
loved him dearly were there, except Bo who was still keeping a silent,
lonely vigil for the dead of the first phase of these terrible events.
The Princess’s wailing keen for her father, for her world, echoed
in all their hearts as they wondered if there was to be one more victim
before all this was over.
Then the viewscreen flickered again. The Ambassador said something that
everyone knew must be a Gallifreyan swearword. They saw the TARDIS interior
looking like it had been ripped through by a tornado. Part of the console
was blackened as if by a fire. And as they watched they saw Chrístõ
pull himself into view. He was bleeding from a gash on his head that his
regenerative cells had not begun to mend and he held his arm as if it
was broken. The way he pulled himself up by his good arm and leaned against
the inoperative console told them that at least one leg was hurt too.
At first, he seemed unable to speak as he faced the videophone screen.
When he did it was painfully and slowly as if his ribs were crushed and
breathing difficult.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I didn’t make it.
The TARDIS came out of the time vortex just as the planet exploded. Cirena,
Princess, I am sorry. If I hadn’t waited – A few seconds more
would have been enough. I was too late. My TARDIS was caught up in the
shock wave. It… it is badly damaged. I can’t dematerialise
and… I don’t think I can hold this position. The planet is
gone. There is no orbit to lock into. My TARDIS is dead in space.”
“Hold on, my son,” the Ambassador told him. “I’m
coming for you.” Without further hesitation, he turned and ran from
the room. His hearts pounded in his chest as he reached the suite of rooms
given over to him as the Ambassador and adviser to The King-Emperor. His
TARDIS stood in the corner of the drawing room disguised as a door to
another room, though anyone who knew the layout of the palace would know
that it was an external wall. He set the co-ordinates for Terrigna IV
– or where Terrigna IV used to be.
His son’s TARDIS was trapped in the vestigial gravitational field
that kept the debris in orbit. It would, in time, form an asteroid belt,
circling the Terrignan star for eternity. It would be forgotten that it
was once a planet teeming with life. As he drew close the Ambassador felt
a deep sadness come over him, as if the billion souls were crying out
to him, as if among the debris of rock and dust, they, too, remained as
pitiful remnants of what was.
He shook his head at such a fanciful idea. There was only one soul among
the debris, and his TARDIS was locking onto it. He slaved the damaged
engine to his own and brought the two TARDISes together to a safer orbit
before he opened both doors and stepped onto his son’s ship.
“Chrístõ,” he cried as he rushed to his side.
Chrístõ was lying on the floor beside the damaged console.
His body WAS beginning to mend, but he was clearly in a lot of pain. Both
his legs were broken, and his arm, and as the Ambassador ran his sonic
screwdriver over his body in diagnostic mode he saw several broken ribs,
a fractured collarbone and a severe concussion. On top of that, he was
badly burnt along one side of his face and shoulder.
“Father?” he spoke weakly. “Is it you? Or am I dreaming?”
“It's me,” his father said, lifting him in his arms and bringing
him to his own TARDIS. He laid him on a couch and went to set his course
back to Adano-Ambrado before coming and sitting by his side. “I’m
proud of you,” he said. “As always.”
“But I failed,” Chrístõ sobbed, his Human tears
betraying the sorrow in his Gallifreyan hearts. “The King…
I didn’t reach him in time.”
“I know,” the Ambassador said. “But I am still proud
of you, for trying. I’m proud of you for not giving up until the
last possible moment, and not even then. And I am proud that you didn’t
even think of trying to cross the line of causality and buy the time you
didn’t have. You have tasted the bitterness of failure today. And
yes, it is bitter. There is nothing more bitter. You’ve learnt that
you can’t do everything, that you have limitations. It took me another
hundred years beyond your age to learn that lesson.”
“When did YOU ever fail, father?” he asked and groaned as
the pain of his broken body overwhelmed him.
“Many times,” he said. “Too many times to tell the truth.
But I won’t fail you now.”
None of his injuries were so critical that his body could not repair itself.
But Chrístõ was so distressed by the destruction of the
planet and his failure to rescue the King or any of his people that it
was inhibiting his recovery. The Ambassador put his hand on his son’s
forehead and sent him into a deep, dreamless and painless sleep. As his
body relaxed his repair functions were able to work at last. The Ambassador
held his son tightly in his arms as he slept and recovered.
“You’ll always be my son,”
he whispered. “My precious child.” He was an adult, an independent
young man, and one who had proved himself time and again, exceeding the
expectations even he, his father, had of him. But he was, at the same
time, the vulnerable little boy whose laughter and tears had been so equally
precious to him.
The next days were difficult ones for the
King-Emperor of Adano-Ambrado. There were those who criticised him for
plunging the Empire into a war that was nothing to do with them. The lives
lost on Adano-Gran, on A-A2 and in the space battle in the Terrigna system
were all held against him. But far more of his subjects supported him,
seeing in the victory over a tyrant who had murdered Adano-Ambradans in
cold blood a clear indication that their Empire, though a new player on
the galactic political stage, was a strong one which could defend itself
and its allies.
The Princess won over many who might have
been critical. When she stood with Penne at the memorial service held
to commemorate the Adano-Ambradan dead AND those who died in the destruction
of Terrigna IV, those who attended and those who watched the event on
their public service televideo were entranced by her grace and beauty.
When she spoke of her grief and her hopes for a new future they took her
to their hearts and even though it was a time of official mourning they
looked to a bright future when their King-Emperor would take her as his
Queen.
“Even so,” Cassie said as they
returned to the palace after the memorial. “It can’t be easy
for her. She has lost so much. Her father, her friends and relations,
the planet she was born on. Even though Penne intends to marry her and
she will never want for anything, I do feel sorry for her.”
“Yes,” Chrístõ
said. He bit his lip as he thought about it. “How… how does
anyone begin to live with that - with being the last survivor of your
whole world?” He looked at his father who walked beside him and
thought of his home planet. He had his own reasons for not returning to
Gallifrey just yet, but the knowledge that it was there, when he did need
it, was important to him. It was where his roots were, his place in the
universe no matter where else he might be. If those roots were severed,
he was sure he would feel just as hollowed out inside as Cirena was feeling
now.
He walked with his father to where their two
TARDISes were parked. He had stayed for the memorial, but now the Ambassador
was returning to Gallifrey for a short time. Valena was very close to
giving birth and despite the bitterness between them he wanted to be there.
“I missed your birth, Chrístõ,” he told his
first born son. “I won’t miss this chance.”
“I do understand,” Chrístõ told him. “You’ll
be returning here?”
“There is work for me here. There is a need for my skills. Far more
than there is on Gallifrey at present. But you won’t be here when
I return, I suppose?”
“We are moving on in a few days, as soon as I have finished repairing
my TARDIS. We have all spent long enough here. It is Penne’s world,
but it is not ours. I know we shall return. I would not miss seeing Penne
become a married man.”
“That is a miracle we shall all enjoy seeing,” his father
agreed. “Though I DO believe he might have realised the joys of
fidelity since Cirena came into his life.” He hugged his son and
kissed him on the cheek and then he went into his TARDIS. Chrístõ
stood back as it began to dematerialise and the air displacement ruffled
his hair. He missed his father already. But he glanced at his own TARDIS.
A universe of adventure and discovery, and just enough of the danger that
set the adrenaline coursing through his blood awaited him yet.
|