|      
         
      Chrístõ looked at his friends sitting happily 
        together on the sofas in the corner of his TARDIS. Cassie and Bo were 
        chatting with Julia, Sammie and Terry had their own conversation. Humphrey 
        was in his element with all of his ladies present. They were aware of 
        his purr even when he wandered into the brighter parts of the room where 
        they couldn’t see him.  
      
        “Do you guys fancy a bit of a detour?” Chrístõ 
        asked. “Before I bring you all back to Liverpool.” 
      
        “Oh, yes, please,” Julia said. “I like having everyone 
        here. I don’t want them to go home yet.”  
      
        “Not too long, though,” Bo told him. “I don’t 
        like to leave Li Tuo for long. Chrístõ…” He 
        looked at her and went to her side. “I didn’t want to spoil 
        the wedding for you and everything. But really, Li Tuo isn’t as 
        well as he pretended to be when you picked us up. He’s had several 
        bouts of illness. He’s very weak.” 
      
        “He is old. The end is not so far away. I know that,” Chrístõ 
        said. “It is kind of you to look after him.”  
      
        “He’s a very sweet man. I have come to love him very much. 
        But… He has shown me a signal he wants me to send if… when 
        the time comes. He wants you there.”  
      
        “He wants me to… not my father… an experienced Time 
        Lord? I thought… But…”  
      
        “I don’t know why,” Bo said. “But it that’s 
        what he wants… well, you won’t refuse him?”  
      
        “Of course not. It just seems a bit strange.” 
      
        “He has spoken often of Gallifrey lately – of his home.” 
        Bo looked at Chrístõ. He knew what she was thinking.  
      
        “No, he cannot return, even in extremis. Our rules are hard and 
        unbending. And it isn’t fair. He will die in exile. On Earth. And 
        we who are his friends will do what we can for him.” He touched 
        her cheek gently. “I’m glad you’re there to look after 
        him. And I will get you back the day after you left. He won’t be 
        without your care for long. Meanwhile, there is a beautiful place I would 
        love you all to see.” He smiled as Julia came to his side. “I’m 
        taking you to see another princess,” he said to her.  
      
        “How many princesses do you know?” Julia asked him.  
      
        “Quite a few,” he said. “My father is a diplomat. And 
        he HAS been Lord High President of Gallifrey in his time. I grew up with 
        crowned heads and presidents visiting our home.” 
      
        “That’s why you always look like an aristocrat when you walk 
        into any roomful of people, ” Cassie told him. “But yet you 
        are our friend, too. Ordinary people like us.”  
      
        “I just do my best,” Chrístõ said. “We’re 
        nearly there. You’ll like this place.”  
       “I’ll get baby Chrístõ ready 
        to go out,” Cassie said and went to do just that. 
        
      He landed the TARDIS in the centre of the subterranean 
        village of the Periaions. They knew him and his ship and would not be 
        frightened by it, he thought. And he was right. When he and his friends 
        emerged from the TARDIS, disguised as it was as one of the simple single 
        storey houses of the village, with his   symbol on the door, the Periaions 
        fluttered around them excitedly.  
      
        “Faeries!” Julia exclaimed. “Oh, but they can’t 
        be. It’s not possible.”  
      
        “What’s not to believe?” Sammie asked as he watched 
        the Periaions hovering around him like people sized humming birds. He 
        laughed. Could there be a place more removed from the hard, dark life 
        he once lived than this underground village of gossamer winged creatures 
        dressed in shimmering gauze. 
      
        They were no more difficult to believe than anything else he had seen 
        in his travels in the TARDIS, including the darkness entity otherwise 
        known as Humphrey Boggart, who zoomed past him, pin-wheeling around, diving 
        straight through the dancing faery people, who seemed delighted by his 
        presence.  
      
        Yes, I believe in faeries,” he said with a broad smile.  
      
        “So do I!” Cassie laughed. They all crowded around her as 
        she walked with baby Chrístõ in a sling fastened at her 
        front. They all seemed to want to touch her and the baby and when they 
        did their touch was like being touched by sheer joy.  
      
        “They are all pale coloured,” Terry noted. “That’s 
        why they’re so fascinated by you and the baby.”  
      
        “Oh!” Cassie looked around at them. Terry was right. She thought 
        about the too many times when her father’s Jamaican ancestry had 
        meant that she stood out from those around her. On her first day at primary 
        school, or the time at ballet class when she was told she could not be 
        in the chorus line because she was ‘too ethnic’. She hated 
        standing out because she was ‘ethnic’ – a stupid euphemism 
        at the best of times. One thing she loved about being with Chrístõ 
        was that she was simply categorised as HUMAN.  
      
        But this was nice. These faery people – Chrístõ had 
        said what they should be called but she had not yet grasped how to say 
        it – didn’t point to her as ‘different’ in a cruel 
        way. They were simply fascinated by her and wanted to touch her to see 
        if she was ‘real’ in the same way as she wanted to reach out 
        and touch them.  
      
        Bo and Julia ran joyfully with them. They felt a little like Humphrey, 
        who was still bouncing around. It was as if every hardship they had known 
        had become insignificant beside the joy of just being with the beautiful 
        creatures that Chrístõ seemed to know as old friends.  
      
        “This way to the palace,” Chrístõ said as he 
        moved through the crowd. They greeted him as if he was a returning hero. 
        As he walked they came up to him and kissed his hands and his cheeks and 
        it was quite difficult to make headway towards the palace. At the entrance 
        the guards simply bowed to him and his friends.  
      
        “Who do they think you are?” Terry asked him as they entered 
        the palace and found everyone within bowing to him.  
      
        “I am the one who saved the life of their princess,” he said. 
        “That’s why we have the special treatment. As a rule overworlders 
        are not encouraged. They don’t want the ones who live above knowing 
        about their world.”  
      
        “I can understand that,” Sammie said. “Though why anyone 
        should want to harm them…”  
      
        “There are people in this universe who would see beauty and happiness 
        and only want to destroy it,” Chrístõ answered. It 
        was a gloomy thought, but only too true.  
        But 
        gloomy thoughts were banished when they came in sight of the princess. 
        All of the men gasped when they came near her. Chrístõ knew 
        it was a chemical thing. The princess exuded pheromones that made the 
        males of any species fall a little bit in love with her. Or a lot, he 
        supposed, depending on their willpower. Humphrey was besotted with her. 
        Chrístõ knew if he had not spent so many hours in dull classes 
        learning logic and reason he would be pretty much gone himself.  
      
        “But you have a love of your own now,” Princess Pelia said 
        to him. “All three of you, do. That protects you from becoming so 
        much enamoured that you would forget about the overworld.”  
      
        “That happens?” Cassie asked her.  
      
        “When overworld men come here, as they do from time to time, when 
        they come before me, yes, I am afraid it happens. I cannot help it. But 
        you are all friends of my dear Chrístõ. You are all welcome. 
        We shall have feasting and joy to celebrate you being here among us.” 
      
        And as she said that, music began to play. The throne room became a party 
        room with the faery people dancing and flying about. Chrístõ 
        watched as his friends joined in with it enthusiastically. Julia was in 
        her element. She let two of the Periaions lift her so that she was flying 
        with them. As long as she was in contact with them she was as weightless 
        as they and she danced in the air. The next time she was practicing in 
        the studio, he thought, she would have some new ideas to work with.  
      
        He turned to Pelia. She sat on her elaborate golden throne, the most beautiful, 
        flawless creature in the universe. Or was that the glamour cast by her, 
        he wondered. But he was willing to concede there were few to contest her 
        claim.  
      
        At her feet were a gaggle of little faery children, about the size of 
        a two year old of his planet or of Earth. They were all beautiful, with 
        golden hair and eyes that were either sparkling green or dark brown. Some 
        even seemed a mixture of both, brown with speckles of green, or green 
        with dark brown specks. There were fifteen of them in all, at least as 
        far as he could count them.  
      
        “Pelia,” he said. “When did you get married?” 
      
        “I didn’t,” she told him. “Chrístõ, 
        you don’t understand how children are born in our world. We need 
        only to FEEL the pure love of a man, a kiss given freely, is enough. The 
        pheromones do the rest.”  
      
        “You…. You only have to kiss a man and you can become pregnant?” 
        He laughed. “My dear Pelia, that would be very dangerous on a lot 
        of worlds I know.” He looked at the children again. “So… 
        who did you kiss?” he asked. “He must have loved you very 
        much.”  
      
        “Yes,” Pelia said with a smile. “You DID.”  
      
        It took a moment for her words to sink in. When it did, he almost fainted 
        in shock.  
      
        “No!” he protested as he looked at the little faery children, 
        sitting and standing, and flying on their baby wings. “NO! Pelia… 
        it can’t be. No. I cannot be their….” He looked at her 
        in bewilderment. “When I kissed you… that was not…. 
        You had no right… if I had known I would not. You….” 
      
        The joy of this world seemed to drain from him as hurt and confusion replaced 
        it. He turned away. Pelia called out his name but he did not answer. He 
        didn’t know how to explain to her his indignation, his anger. He 
        felt used. He felt… violated.  
      
        “Chrístõ,” Pelia’s hand touched his shoulder. 
        The feeling was beautiful. Her touch was like being touched by pure love 
        in a solid, corporeal form. And if he was not feeling so upset he would 
        have surrendered to it.  
      
        “Leave me alone,” he snapped. “You can’t… 
        You can’t use people that way.” 
      
        “Chrístõ… how have I wronged you?” she 
        asked. But he shrugged her hand away from him and ran from the throne 
        room. His friends, enjoying the company of the faery people, stared in 
        astonishment as he swept past them, but he hardly saw them. He didn’t 
        see any of the palace entourage or the people of the village outside as 
        he ran to the TARDIS. He didn’t notice the sea-change in their mood. 
        He was oblivious to everything but his own distress. 
      
        He felt relieved, though, when he reached the TARDIS, his familiar, constant 
        friend. He felt safe within its walls. 
      
        He sank down on the cabin bed that used to be Bo’s sleeping place 
        at night and was now used sometimes by Julia if she felt weary on long 
        journeys. He cried softly. His hearts felt torn apart. He had so wanted 
        to return here, to this beautiful place where love and joy abounded. In 
        a universe where those two things were too often subjugated by ambition 
        and greed the underworld of Phyrantia was a rare gem. But for him it had 
        lost its shine and he wasn’t sure he could ever get it back. 
      
        The door opened and Bo and Sammie came in. Bo sat on the bed beside him 
        and stroked his hair gently. He felt soothed by her, but the source of 
        his unhappiness still remained. He explained it to them both. Sammie resisted 
        an urge to smile at his predicament.  
      
        “No,” he insisted. “It is not a laughing matter. I never 
        intended such a thing. She had no right to use me that way. I feel…. 
        I feel… I feel as if I have been…. Raped.” 
      
        “No you don’t,” Bo told him quietly. “You have 
        no idea what that is like. What went on between you and Princess Pelia 
        was a sweet and beautiful thing. It was not a painful nightmare that you 
        were forced into against your will.” 
      
        “I am a father of fifteen baby faery children against my will.” 
         
      
        “If you had known that was the consequence of kissing her, would 
        you have refused to do it? Would you have refused her kiss?”  
      
        Chrístõ thought about that. He thought about how he had 
        felt when she kissed him. He could not have refused that in a million 
        years. And Bo was right. It was not a terrible hurtful thing. He was not 
        forced to do anything. But he still felt wronged.  
      
        Bo looked at her husband with pleading eyes.  
      
        He nodded to her as he sat next to his friend. “Chrístõ… 
        look… I talked to Pelia. I think I understand. But…. Is it 
        SO bad? Not many people get to be dads with so little effort. And they 
        are the cutest little creatures I ever saw.” 
      
        “You DON’T understand,” Chrístõ told him. 
        “On Earth, nobody cares much about these things. People get married 
        or they don’t, depending on how they feel. Cassie and Terry were 
        lovers in the fullest sense since they were seventeen. You and Bo… 
        you didn’t wait to be married. And… well, I’m guessing 
        she wasn’t the first woman you’ve ever been with…” 
         
      
        “I was a soldier. When soldiers get off duty and off camp… 
        you know…”  
      
        “I’m not judging you,” he said. “In your world 
        those things are acceptable. But not in mine. Where I come from we never…. 
        Not until our wedding night. Male and female... it is accepted, expected, 
        that our first time…”  
      
        “Chrístõ…” Sammie looked at him. “Are 
        you telling me you’re a virgin?”  
      
        “YES!” he said. “And…” Sammie was laughing 
        at him, though not cruelly.  
      
        “You’re nearly two hundred years old, and you’ve never 
        been tempted?” 
      
        “It’s different where I come from,” Chrístõ 
        said. “I only became an adult by our law ten years ago. Before then 
        the question never even arose. I was technically a CHILD. And our official 
        coming of age is not until about two hundred and ten. That’s when 
        I will inherit the land and titles from my father. When he will officially 
        retire and I will be head of the family. I expect I will be married to 
        Julia by then. But meanwhile… I am not Human. I am a Time Lord of 
        Gallifrey. And we don’t have sex before marriage. Temptation doesn’t 
        come into it. We just don’t. It's the way we are. I have lived on 
        Earth… lived as a Human for so many years. Most of my friends ARE 
        Human. But I am STILL a Gallifreyan. And I have lived by the social standards 
        of my world. And that’s why I feel…. That Pelia has taken 
        something from me.” 
      
        “See, that’s what you don’t get,” Sammie told 
        him. “That’s why you should have listened to Pelia. She told 
        me. And it makes sense. Chrístõ… I hear what you’re 
        saying about sticking it out until your wedding night. But that hasn’t 
        changed. Because the way they have babies here… it’s not actually 
        sex as we know it. On EITHER of our planets. Pelia doesn’t need 
        a man’s genes to have babies. Only his pheromones. The babies aren’t 
        part of you and her the way little Chrístõ is a part of 
        Terry and Cassie. They’re ALL her. Your pheromones were just the 
        catalyst that started the process. They’re NOT your babies, Chrístõ. 
        You were just… I don’t know… you lit the blue touchpaper, 
        basically. But that’s all.”  
      
        Chrístõ looked at his Earth friends. He had no reason to 
        doubt they were telling him the truth. It made a sort of sense  
      
        Catalyst. A chemical or substance that causes a change or reaction in 
        others but remains unchanged itself. He was unchanged. His vow of celibacy 
        had not been compromised.  
      
        He ought to have understood. He realised that now. He was an explorer, 
        studying the infinite variety of life in the universe. He should have 
        realised that infinite life had infinite ways of propagating itself. This 
        was just one of the more incredible of those ways.  
      
        “Go back to her,” Bo told him. “Tell her you understand. 
        And that you don’t blame her for anything. Do it quickly. These 
        people… they seem to be linked to their princess’s moods. 
        When she is sad, they are, too.”  
      
        “Yes, I know,” Chrístõ said. “She is the 
        hub of their lives. If she is hurt they hurt. If they’re sick, she 
        gets very sick.”  
      
        “Well, right now, they’re all crying because SHE is crying.” 
        Chrístõ looked up as Julia stood at the door. How long had 
        she been there? How much had she heard of what was said? “Come on, 
        Chrístõ,” she told him. “Make it up with her.” 
         
      
        He sat up and brushed his own tears away. He reached out his arms to Julia 
        and she ran to him. He held her tightly as he felt the resentments and 
        anger melt away. He took her hand as they walked back to the throne room. 
        He felt very sorry as he saw the people around him. They were all of them 
        crying softly. And he knew it was his fault for upsetting the princess. 
      
        She sat on the throne, her face hidden by her hands, crying inconsolably. 
        Her little children lay at her feet, curled up like kittens, they too, 
        crying. At the side of the throne Humphrey was wailing in empathy. And 
        the look he gave Chrístõ was pleading, and also slightly 
        accusing, as if he knew whose fault it was and that he was the only one 
        who could sort out this problem. 
      
        “Pelia,” he said gently, putting his hand on her shoulder. 
        She looked at him through her fingers. “Pelia, my princess, don’t 
        cry. I am sorry. Forgive me.” He knelt before her and put his hands 
        in hers. “Please forgive me for not understanding what I should 
        have understood. Forgive me for rejecting your love.”  
      
        “Chrístõ…” She smiled then and it felt 
        as if the sun had come out. “Chrístõ, Of course I 
        forgive you. You are my saviour. My life is in your hands. Stand up, my 
        prince from the overworld. You need not bow before me.”  
      
        She stood, too. And reached to embrace him. He drew back hesitantly.  
      
        “If I kiss you… this time… promise me there are no consequences,” 
        he said. 
      
        “This is just for friendship,” she told him and kissed him. 
        As she did so he felt his feet leave the ground, but they rose together 
        only a few feet this time, not high up in the air as she did when he shared 
        that incredible kiss with her that resulted in the mixing of his pheromones 
        with hers. “Besides, you have found your true love since you were 
        last here.”  
      
        “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I have.” 
      
        “May you be blessed, both of you” Pelia told him. He felt 
        his feet touch the ground again and Julia reclaimed him with the touch 
        of her hand on his. He closed his fingers around hers and looked at her 
        with a smile. Around them the Periaions stopped crying and began dancing 
        again as if the sad interlude had never occurred.  
      
        The party feeling continued hour after hour. In fact, nobody was entirely 
        sure how many hours. And nobody cared. They were having too much fun. 
        Chrístõ reflected that this could be a trap for the unwary. 
        How long COULD you lose yourself in the joy of Periaion life? Did men 
        who were caught up in the chemically induced love for Princess Pelia suddenly 
        wake up and realise that years had passed?  
      
        “Yes,” Pelia said and he found himself disconcerted to find 
        his thoughts had been read by her. Since he often disconcerted his Human 
        friends the same way he had no complaint to make. But her answer was a 
        discomforting one.  
      
        “Yes,” she said again. “The joy which is our natural 
        state IS dangerous. Yes, men have been enchanted to their doom. My mother 
        had many lovers. So did my grandmother and her mother before her. Men 
        who came exploring the caves and forgot they had a life in the overworld. 
        This glamour we are able to cast over the overworlders… it is not 
        deliberate, Chrístõ. Please be sure of that. We do not seek 
        to destroy men by our charms. But its effect on the weaker of mind is 
        devastating. In my own lifetime I remember at least a dozen such men come 
        and for a while they lived in joy here, besotted by my mother. Adoring 
        her to the detriment of their own bodies and souls. I told you before, 
        I think, that overworlders cannot survive here. They fade away and die. 
        My mother was not a cruel woman. But she never thought anything amiss 
        when it happened. She mourned their passing, but she thought it a natural 
        thing. And she never warned them that this would be their fate. When I 
        became princess in my turn, I determined I would NOT let men doom themselves 
        without knowing full well what would come of them. Then you came. And 
        your will was so much stronger. And you knew without me having to tell 
        you that you could not stay, that you should not stay. And that was why 
        I felt it would be all right for you to be the one… Because you 
        would not be harmed by it.”  
      
        “I am not harmed,” he assured her. “Not now that I understand. 
        You said that my friends are protected because they have deep love already. 
        So it is only if a man comes here who has no deep emotional ties that 
        he would become enticed by your world.” 
      
        “Yes. Or one with a deeper will, like yourself.”  
      
        That was the darker side of the joy and light of Pelia’s world, 
        he thought. Though fading away from excess of love was perhaps not the 
        worst way to die. Young as he was by the measure of his species, he had 
        seen plenty of deaths that were far worse.  
      
        Even with such hidden dangers, the underworld of Phyrantia was still as 
        close to paradise as he had found so far, and he was glad to spend a short 
        time in it. He watched as Julia played with the babies. His babies? No, 
        it was definitely better not to think along those lines. But he turned 
        to Pelia and held out his hand.  
        “Dance 
        with me,” he said. And she came to his arms and danced. Her subjects 
        cleared a space where the two of them danced together. He didn’t 
        notice when their feet left the ground but he was aware of being high 
        in the air when she kissed him again.  
      
        He was filled with joy as he had been the last time they shared a deep, 
        mid-air kiss. But it did not feel as if she was taking anything from him. 
        It was just a very beautiful moment that lifted his hearts and made him 
        forget his doubts and his distress earlier.  
      
        “Shall I give you back to your own love now?” she whispered 
        to him. 
      
        “Yes, I think you had better,” he told her.  
      
        But before they could descend the joyful noise of their endless party 
        was disrupted by the sound of an explosion somewhere beyond the palace 
        walls. Chrístõ saw a look of fear in her eyes and she clung 
        to him as they descended quickly, landing abruptly and jarringly. Immediately, 
        though, he ran in the direction of the intrusive sound. Sammie was alongside 
        him and Terry trying to keep up. 
      
        “That was dynamite,” Sammie said. “Somebody is blasting 
        their way in here.”  
      
        “Overlanders.” Chrístõ used the word the Periaions 
        used. And he used it in a tone that meant ‘invaders’.  
      
        Sammie was correct. It WAS dynamite. And it had opened up a whole section 
        of the cavern wall in what he thought was the east side of the village 
        – though directions were hard to gauge. The ground was strewn with 
        rubble and four men equipped for underground exploration stood staring 
        at what they had found when they removed the wall between one cavern and 
        the next.  
      
        “What the hell do you think you are doing?” Sammie yelled 
        at them. His anger seemed even greater than Chrístõ’s. 
        “What is this?”  
      
        “Oh no!” Terry murmured and grabbed Chrístõ’s 
        sleeve as he pointed. In the rubble of the destroyed wall there was a 
        Periaion man, clearly dead, his wings broken, his body twisted unnaturally. 
         
      
        “That was bloody murder!” Sammie yelled as Chrístõ 
        bent and lifted the body from the rubble. Behind the three of them Periaions 
        were moving in to see what had happened, and when they saw the dead man 
        they began to wail in grief. Some of the males came forward and took hold 
        of the potholers. They protested loudly, but found that the Periaions 
        had a strong grip, despite their apparently ephemeral appearance.  
      
        “To the princess,” the crowd said. They parted to allow Chrístõ 
        to go ahead, carrying the dead man. His Human friends flanked him, and 
        the prisoners were brought behind. He could feel the anger and grief of 
        the first witnesses rippling out among the rest even before they were 
        in sight. By the time he reached the palace everyone knew what had happened. 
        They looked at the victim with grief and sorrow and at the prisoners who 
        had caused the death with hate and loathing and, he thought, fear. 
      
        The princess sat on her throne. Again her gaggle of children huddled around 
        her. Chrístõ saw Julia sitting with them, cuddling them. 
        Cassie and Bo sat on the steps below the throne waiting sadly to see what 
        would happen. 
      
        The princess rose and came down the steps as Chrístõ laid 
        the dead man at her feet. She knelt and touched him gently. He guessed 
        she had some powers of healing, and there was a sense of hope. But he 
        knew, also, that this man was beyond even faery magic. His injuries were 
        too terrible. She cried as she folded his broken wings and straightened 
        his body into a dignified manner. Two of her palace guards came and lifted 
        him. She told them to make preparations for a funeral and they nodded. 
        There were no words to be said.  
      
        “Bring them forward,” she said, as she stepped back, partway 
        up the steps. Her face was set now as Chrístõ had seen his 
        own father’s face, or Penne’s when either was called upon 
        to act with authority and with decisiveness. Grief and sudden death had 
        come to Pelia’s happy world, and he wondered how she would deal 
        with those responsible for it. 
      
        Did they have a death penalty? If so, then as much as he loved Pelia and 
        her people, as much as he felt angry and disgusted with the ones who had 
        done this, he would have to oppose it. 
      
        “Death penalty?” Pelia mouthed the words silently and looked 
        at him with puzzled eyes. “I do not even understand those words.” 
        Automatically his thoughts flew to the method of punishing the worst criminals 
        of his world and her eyes opened in shock. “No,” she told 
        him telepathically. We have no such thing here. But… I feel the 
        grief and anger of my people. They are demanding, expecting punishment. 
        What must I do?” 
      
        “You must punish them,” he told her. “But punish justly. 
        Not with malice, not with vengeance.”  
      
        “Father,” he thought. “Did I do right? Is that what 
        YOU would have told her?” He had a strong feeling he would have 
        done.  
      
        He looked at the overworlders who stood before the princess, shocked by 
        the consequences of their own actions. They were affected emotionally 
        by the pervading aura of grief that the Periaions were all emitting like 
        a sort of radiation. Chrístõ was having a hard time shutting 
        it out. His honed telepathic synapses were picking it up so strongly it 
        was hurting. He knew the princess, with her symbiotic connection to all 
        her people, was suffering dreadfully.  
      
        “Take them to the west tower. There is a room there… guard 
        it…” Pelia decided. “Let them not be harmed. Let them 
        have food and a place to rest themselves. But let them be in no doubt 
        that they are prisoners.”  
      
        That was good, Chrístõ thought. A show of both strength 
        and mercy. And a breathing space to decide what to do next, with the culprits 
        out of sight of those they had wronged.  
      
        “My people,” Pelia said with a strength in her voice that 
        belied her inner turmoil. “Please go to your homes, be about your 
        work and your play. And be not dismayed. Our world will be right again 
        before long.”  
      
        She sent the message telepathically, too. Her people all heard her and 
        obeyed out of love for her and for each other. 
      
        But what a contrast in the mood of the people from the party feeling before. 
        Even Chrístõ’s misunderstanding had not caused such 
        deep grief. The hurt that caused was easily resolved by understanding 
        each other. But this was deeper. This was like a wound in the collective 
        soul of the people.  
      
        “Sit with me,” Pelia said as she sank down on the steps by 
        the throne and folded her wings sadly. Her children gathered around her. 
        Chrístõ and his friends likewise sat around her. A strange 
        kind of counsel, but this was as good a place to talk as a polished table 
        in a Cabinet room.  
      
        “It’s not murder,” Terry said. “They didn’t 
        come with the intention of killing. They didn’t expect to find people 
        down here.” 
      
        “He’s right,” Sammie added. “On our planet they 
        would call it manslaughter.”  
      
        “On mine, too,” Chrístõ said. But Pelia did 
        not understand. The idea of death at the hands of another being was almost 
        inconceivable to her peaceful people who had no concept of hate, no inequalities 
        that caused envy, and who even shared love so equally and unconditionally 
        that there were no jealousies through it. Somehow, between them, they 
        managed to explain to her, and through her, to the whole of the community, 
        that important difference between premeditated murder, of motive, of malice 
        aforethought, and the accidental death through carelessness, through lack 
        of thought or attention which was what had happened here.  
      
        “We have no punishment for manslaughter either,” Pelia said. 
        “We have no prison.” 
      
        “I don’t think keeping them in prison is a good idea anyway,” 
        Chrístõ said. “Pelia, these overlanders may have friends 
        above. They may come looking for them. They may bring weapons…” 
         
      
        “Weapons…” 
      
        Chrístõ sighed. Pelia had no concept of THAT word either. 
        He and Sammie between them explained. Pelia read the pictures in Sammie’s 
        mind and was shocked.  
      
        “You… have used these…. Weapons?”  
      
        “Only against those who would do wrong otherwise,” Sammie 
        said. “Against the enemy.”  
      
        It was hard to explain to Pelia the difference between Sammie with a gun 
        in his hand and an Iraqi soldier with a gun in his hand, and what made 
        one right and the other wrong. And it was Sammie who conceded in the end 
        that guns were not good things and that deciding who had the right in 
        a war was not a question of black and white.  
      
        “You seem a good person,” Pelia told him. “Your soul 
        is good. Despite what you may have done in that terrible world you come 
        from. But… you are right. We do not want those things here. Chrístõ… 
        you really think more men would come looking for these ones?” 
      
        “Yes, I do,” he said. “They may even have friends above 
        now who are wondering. I think I should talk to them and find out.” 
      
        Sammie went with him and one of the palace servants as a guide to a part 
        of the castle he had not gone to before. They climbed up a winding staircase 
        to the room at the top of the fairy-tale castle tower where the prisoners 
        had been taken. The room had no lock. The guards simply stood outside. 
        They looked sad to be doing such a duty.  
      
        “Thank God!” one of the men said when Chrístõ 
        and Sammie came in. “You’re Humans!” 
      
        “He is, I’m not,” Chrístõ said in a cold 
        voice. “I’ve just had to explain the words “murder”, 
        “manslaughter”, “weapon” and “enemy” 
        to a gentle people who until you came along had no definition of any of 
        those words. Would you care to tell me what made your intrusion into their 
        lives necessary?” 
      
        “Lutanium,” One of the men identified himself as being called 
        Bryn. And that one word was his explanation for prospecting in the abandoned 
        silver mines on this side of Phyrantia.  
      
        Chrístõ didn’t need any further explanation. Lutanium 
        was the rarest and most valuable element in the universe. And men had 
        committed murder over it before now. Earth in the period his friends came 
        from had never even heard of it. It was one of those gaps in the periodic 
        table that scientists dreamt of completing. But as it didn’t occur 
        naturally on Earth that wouldn’t happen until they discovered deep 
        space travel.  
      
        But when they did the desire to find it would blind many to all reason. 
        These men were not that sort he thought. When he reached into their minds 
        he didn’t find that all-encompassing obsession that on Earth in 
        Bo’s era was called ‘gold fever’. And these men WERE 
        genuinely shocked and disturbed at what had transpired.  
      
        “The man… thing… the… whatever it was…” 
        one of them stammered. “Is it really dead?” 
      
        “Yes HE is,” Chrístõ told him. “And you 
        are responsible for that death, accidental though it was.” 
      
        “What ARE these things….” 
      
        “Things?” Chrístõ’s voice hardened again. 
        “You are Humans?” he asked. “Your ancestry is on Earth?” 
         
      
        “Yes. But…” 
      
        “Earth is 260 million light years from this planet. Between here 
        and there are a billion stars with planets orbiting them on which there 
        is life of some kind or another. And you dismiss them all as THINGS?” 
         
      
        “They’re faeries!” The youngest of the group, who looked 
        no older than twenty-five, looked the most nervous. But he had wide eyes 
        as if he had seen something utterly wonderful. 
      
        “They’re Periaions,” Chrístõ told them. 
        “They are the native and indigenous species of this planet. It was 
        deemed uninhabited by the original colonists because they could not imagine 
        people living below ground. But as you see, they were wrong. The Periaions 
        have lived here for millennia, peaceful, harmless creatures. You have 
        lived above for a much shorter time, and were never meant to come into 
        contact with them.” 
      
        “What will they do to us?” the youngest asked.  
      
        “Shut up, Gregson,” Bryn hissed. “They have no right 
        to do anything to us.” 
      
        “Yes, they have,” Chrístõ said. “They 
        have the right to exact the severest penalty from you. You KILLED one 
        of their own.” 
      
        “Severest…” All four men went pale as they imagined 
        being executed in some exotic way while the Periaions watched. Chrístõ 
        decided to let them carry on imagining that for a while. It wouldn’t 
        hurt them to understand the consequences of their actions. 
      
        Their fear made them co-operative. Although at the back of his mind Bryn, 
        the leader, was aware that he was being questioned by what appeared to 
        be a Human teenager, he nevertheless found himself answering the boy’s 
        questions as if he was being interrogated under torture.  
      
        “Very well,” Chrístõ said. That’s what 
        I needed to know.” He turned and signalled to Sammie that they were 
        done.  
      
        “Wait,” Bryn called to him. “What will happen to us?” 
         
       “Your fate is in the hands of the princess,” 
        he told them. And again the pictures in their heads were graphic. Chrístõ 
        sighed. They REALLY didn’t understand what the Periaions were if 
        they imagined them capable of that kind of cruelty. He wondered exactly 
        what kind of criminal justice system the overworld Phyrantians had if 
        this was what they feared would be their fate. 
        
      “There are just the four of them,” Chrístõ 
        told the princess. “They have a craft above that they used to travel 
        to this part of the overworld. They were exploring for a company in their 
        main city which lies the other side of a large sea. The company is expecting 
        them to report back to them. If they do not, if they are considered to 
        be missing, then others WILL come to look for them. And I don’t 
        know what will happen, but I don’t think it will be a good thing 
        if the overlanders know of your existence here. Even if they leave you 
        in peace… they have already brought grief to your people this time. 
        They have brought anger and hate. They will change your people from what 
        they are - beautiful peaceful, loving people – to ones who are frightened 
        and suspicious of strangers and who will learn all those traits like jealousy 
        and envy that you don’t have now.”  
      
        “But what can they do?” Cassie asked. “If they let them 
        go… they will tell people about this place.” 
      
        “I could wipe their memories of it,” Chrístõ 
        said. “The sonic screwdriver has a setting that erases short term 
        memory in Humans. I’m not sure why. It seems a strange thing for 
        one of my kind to want to do. But it CAN do that. I could wipe their memory, 
        send them to sleep and take their craft and leave it somewhere.” 
         
      
        Everyone looked at each other. It was a solution. It protected the Periaions 
        from the outside world.  
      
        “It doesn’t punish them for what they did,” Terry pointed 
        out. 
      
        “They’re punishing themselves. They’re imagining the 
        worst kind of hells up there. They expect the Periaions to torture and 
        kill them, and they’re torturing themselves. Wiping their memory 
        of what happened would actually be a kindness to them.” 
      
        “What about the hole they made?” Cassie asked. “What 
        is to stop more people coming that way again?” 
      
        “I think we need a couple of cave-ins to seal the area,” Sammie 
        said. “I’ve still got some high explosive grenades in the 
        TARDIS. You could leave that to me.”  
      
        Pelia looked at him in alarm. He smiled apologetically at her.  
      
        “That’s one GOOD use I can put my weapons to,” he promised. 
         
      
        “I think Chrístõ’s plan is the best for us all,” 
        Pelia said. “I do not want to hurt these overlanders. That is not 
        in our nature. And I do not want their friends seeking to hurt my people.” 
         
       “Let’s go and get them then, and take them 
        back where they belong.” 
        
      Pelia came with him this time. So did Sammie and Terry 
        and Bo. They left Cassie and Julia and baby Chrístõ with 
        the Periaion children.  
      
        But when they reached the top floor of the tower there was a shock in 
        store. Bo knelt to examine the two guards who lay by the door. She reported 
        that they were just knocked out in their attempt to stop the fight that 
        had taken place between the four men.  
      
        But they were all dead. 
      
        Chrístõ looked around and his eyes took in what a crime 
        scene investigator would have taken in. One man had his throat cut. Two 
        others were stabbed through the chest or stomach. The last had cut his 
        own wrists.  
      
        “Oh bloody hell,” Terry swore and turned away. The princess 
        stood in the doorway, in a state of shock.  
      
        “This is my fault,” Chrístõ said.  
      
        “How is it your fault?” Sammie asked.  
      
        “The older one killed the others,” Pelia said. “I feel 
        the resonance of the anger… of what went on before their lives were 
        extinguished. Murder….” She spoke the word as if it was new 
        to her. “And…. sui… suicide?” Another word that 
        was not known to her before. “No… wait…” 
      
        Chrístõ felt it, too. Or at least he felt an echo of what 
        she was sensing, augmented by her mind.  
      
        “One of them is alive,” he said and looked about. He bent 
        over the youngest man, Gregson. He chided himself for not checking the 
        bodies before. The stab wound had been made by one too blinded by terror 
        to aim true, and no vital organs were damaged. He had lost a lot of blood, 
        but he would recover if he got immediate aid. Chrístõ turned 
        to ask Sammie and Terry to run to the TARDIS for bandages and sutures, 
        but he felt a hand on his shoulder. Pelia knelt by his side. She touched 
        the forehead of the injured man and drove away his pain. He opened his 
        eyes in wonder and watched as she then moved her hands over the wound 
        in his stomach. Even Chrístõ, who could do a few miracles 
        himself, was astonished as he watched the wound close up and disappear. 
         
      
        “You are so beautiful!” Gregson whispered. “Thank you.” 
        Then he fainted from the shock and trauma of it all, even though he was 
        no longer in any pain. 
      
        “He is a good man,” Pelia said of him. “He had no part 
        in the blasting. It was his job to… to do something with the rocks 
        they found. Ass…ay…? IS that a word in the Overland?” 
         
      
        “It means to test the rocks for the metals they consider precious,” 
        Chrístõ explained. He could see it all, too. Pelia’s 
        touch on the young man’s forehead had let them both enter his mind. 
        He saw all of his thoughts. He had seen clearly the madness that had overtaken 
        Bryn. He saw Gregson stabbed first, lying, half conscious, watching his 
        leader, the one who ought to have been strongest, killing the others and 
        then himself.  
      
        “Oh!” he groaned. “It’s my fault.” 
      
        “How is it your fault?” Terry asked.  
      
        “Bryn was so afraid of what he THOUGHT was going to happen to him 
        that he killed the others and then himself,” Chrístõ 
        explained. “THAT’S my fault. I made them THINK they were going 
        to be punished severely. I frightened that man into doing what he did.” 
         
      
        “I wouldn’t lose any sleep over that, if I were you, Chrístõ,” 
        Sammie told him. “Seriously, I wouldn’t. He must have been 
        bit tapped to start with.”  
      
        “That’s easy for you to say, Sammie. But…” 
      
        “Let us come from this place of death,” Pelia said. “Bring 
        the one who lives to the palace. Then we shall consider what will happen 
        next.” 
      
        “Yes,” Chrístõ said. “Yes, we’ll 
        do that.” He lifted Gregson in his arms. Pelia walked by his side, 
        his hand on the unconscious man’s face as they descended the tower 
        and came to the steps outside the palace once more. Chrístõ 
        laid Gregson on the steps beside Pelia. It seemed a strange place to put 
        a man who needed to recover from a near fatal wound. And yet, at the same 
        time, he could see no reason why not. In Pelia’s care he could come 
        to no harm. 
      
        Pelia was relieved by the life she had saved, but it was still a sad counsel 
        that gathered again.  
      
        “So many deaths….” She said. “Four people in such 
        a short time… Our own, and then those three. Death comes to our 
        people only at the end of long life. Not like this.” She shook her 
        head. “Is this the overlander world?” She looked at Sammie. 
        “Your guns, and bombs. These men with their explosives and their 
        knives. Fear.” 
      
        “There is good in the overland world, too,” Sammie told her. 
        “There is love. Look at Cassie and Terry and their baby. Me and 
        Bo… Chrístõ and Julia. And we all care for each other 
        the same way you care for your people. It’s not all bad.” 
         
      
        “But the Overland way is not theirs,” Bo told him. “We 
        must make sure that they are safe from this. It must not happen again.” 
      
        “I can take the men from here, as I said I would do,” Chrístõ 
        said. “For the three there is no need to wipe their memories now. 
        They have taken the secret of the underworld to their death. But I still 
        need to make sure nobody looks for them here. And there is the question 
        of the one who is still alive.”  
      
        They all turned to look at that man. He was stirring from his faint. He 
        looked up at Pelia and sighed.  
      
        “You are beautiful,” he said. “So very beautiful.” 
      
        Chrístõ felt the pheromone rush touch his own soul. Terry 
        and Sammie obviously felt it, too. It was a feeling that any male of any 
        species would recognise.  
      
        Gregson looked like a man who had not seen the sun shine for a long time. 
        He was literally bathing in Pelia’s lovelight. Enthralled was the 
        apt word.  
      
        “Pelia, NO!” Chrístõ said. “No, you can’t. 
        He has to go back to his own kind.” 
      
        “I don’t want to go back,” Gregson answered. “I 
        want to stay here. With her. My queen.” 
      
        “No,” Chrístõ insisted. “You’ll 
        die. Pelia… We need to protect your people from interference, but 
        not that way. Not by keeping him here against his will. And if he was 
        not under your spell he WOULD want to go back.” 
      
        “If this is a spell, it is one I don’t want broken,” 
        Gregson insisted. “I want to stay here.” 
      
        “But you will fade away,” Bo told him. “Humans cannot 
        survive here. They fade away. She said so.” 
      
        “It is true,” Pelia admitted. “My dear Gregson, if you 
        stay by me, I can offer you only a fleeting life. A mere century at the 
        most. Then you will be no more.” 
      
        “What?” Cassie was the one who put it into words. “You 
        mean… he will live as much as a hundred years. But that’s 
        not…” 
      
        “Ah!” Chrístõ understood now what he had not 
        understood before. “Ah, I see. Your people are like mine. A fleeting 
        life for us is a full one for a Human.” He glanced at Julia as he 
        said that. The difference in their concept of life was a problem they 
        were only gradually coming to terms with.  
      
        “A hundred years in paradise!” Gregson said. “Yes, I 
        would accept that.” 
      
        “You’re under her influence,” Chrístõ 
        told him. You wouldn’t say it if you were speaking of your own free 
        will.” 
      
        “No,” he answered. “I’m not.” 
      
        “He’s not,” Terry said. “I can’t feel that 
        ‘tingle’ any more. She ‘switched it off’.” 
      
        “It was so important for you that he chose for himself,” Pelia 
        told him. 
      
        “I have no family,” Gregson continued. “And I don’t 
        want to go back… the only survivor – I don’t want people 
        thinking I killed the others. And… And this place IS beautiful. 
        In my wildest dreams… I never imagined. Please let me stay.” 
      
        “If its what you want,” Chrístõ answered. “Yes, 
        all right. If it IS your own free choice then I have no objection. It 
        makes the rest easier.”  
      
        He had the guards take the three bodies to the TARDIS. Then he told Pelia 
        he would return as soon as possible. He promised that when he did the 
        darkness that had touched their lives would be finally over.  
      
        Could it really be over though? The whole of Pelia’s people have 
        been touched by the tragedy. Even the little ones had felt the sadness. 
        The symbiosis meant that every one of them laughed together and cried 
        together. And all had been touched by the negative emotions that the arrival 
        of the four men had brought.  
      
        If he could, he would use that strange function of his sonic screwdriver 
        to wipe this day from the memories of all the Periaions and let them return 
        to their innocence, to not knowing what the words murder, manslaughter 
        and suicide meant. To say nothing of weapon and enemy.  
      
        Chrístõ easily found the craft they had travelled in. It 
        was a hover van that operated much like the car his father drove when 
        he was at home on Gallifrey. His father had taught him to drive it when 
        he was at the Academy but the TARDIS had been the craft he had his heart 
        set on owning. He parked the TARDIS in its cargo section and sat the three 
        bodies in the passenger seats then he took the driving seat and drove 
        a short way before taking off in hover mode. 
      
        While it was crossing the sea in automatic cruise control, he contacted 
        the company by radio. He carefully imitated the accent of Bryn, the leader 
        of the group, telling his superior that the geophysical data had been 
        misleading, that there were no traces of Lutanium in the old silver mines 
        or in the surrounding area, and that in any case the whole underground 
        system was dangerously unstable. He sent a data stream that showed live 
        seismic reports of subterranean rockfalls taking place even as he spoke. 
        They would not know they were caused by Sammie and his grenade launcher. 
        The superior sounded very disappointed and said he would expect a more 
        detailed report in the morning. He asked to speak to one of the other 
        men. Chrístõ told him they were all asleep. They’d 
        had a long day and were just DEAD. He felt a little ashamed of such a 
        dreadful play on words afterwards, though.  
      
        He still felt guilty about his own part in their deaths. Sammie was right 
        in a way. He shouldn’t lose sleep over people whose will power was 
        not as strong as their imagination. But it was a tragedy. They WERE innocent 
        men when all was said and done. They had made one tragic mistake, and 
        had paid a penalty no justice system he knew of would exact for that mistake. 
         
      
        As the coastline of the more heavily populated continent of Phyrantia 
        came in sight he got ready. He brought the van lower down, not too close 
        to the sea, but not quite high enough to account for the great granite 
        cliffs that were a feature of this coastline. He moved out of the seat 
        and stepped into the TARDIS. As it dematerialised the van smashed into 
        the top of the cliff. It flipped over and landed with a crunch followed 
        by an explosion from the fuel tanks. What would be found strewn across 
        the beach below would contain enough Human remains for the investigators 
        to assume that all four men died on the return from their disappointing 
        expedition to find Lutanium mines. Their loved ones would mourn them but 
        nobody was likely to find any reason to believe their deaths were anything 
        but a grim accident.  
      
        He returned to the Periaion village. The people still looked sad. Of course 
        they had a dead friend to mourn and there was a process to be gone through. 
        Time would heal that wound for them as for any other beings.  
      
        “Chrístõ!” Julia ran to his arms as he entered 
        the throne room. She hugged him tightly. “I’m glad you’re 
        back,” she said. “Please come and talk to the princess. She 
        is so very sad. And I know you can make her happy.”  
      
        “She is sad because sad things have happened,” Chrístõ 
        said. “I don’t think I CAN do very much this time. But I will 
        try.” He stepped up to her as she sat on the steps where she had 
        been before, her little faery babies at her feet and her courtiers standing 
        around, their wings drooping, their eyes downcast. She looked up as he 
        approached and managed a weak smile. He knelt by her side and reached 
        to touch her, stroking her gossamer wings gently with one hand while the 
        other reached to touch her face.  
      
        “Chrístõ,” she whispered. “You have so 
        much love in your hearts. You are a good, pure soul. You could be one 
        of us.”  
      
        “But I am from the overworld. I am from beyond the overworld,” 
        he said. “I cannot be one of you.”  
      
        “I want you to know that we do not blame all overworlders for the 
        sorrow that came to us. You and your friends will always be welcome among 
        us.”  
      
        “I am glad of that, because my friends love your world. Even Sammie 
        has learnt from it. And Julia…” They both looked at Julia 
        cuddling the little faery children. Like a little girl with her dolls. 
        One day, he thought, she and Julia would have children of their own. He 
        would bring them here. They would come to love the faery world of the 
        Periaions.  
      
        “Chrístõ… when you said that you can wipe memories…” 
        Pelia said. “If you took away my memory of what happened… 
        it would take it from the others as well. I can… they would remember 
        only that there was an accident. A roof fall. A tragic death. And Gregson 
        coming among us, a Human who has chosen to stay. But not that anybody 
        from beyond our world was responsible for the death.”  
      
        “You want me to do that?”  
      
        “Yes,” she said. “Please, Chrístõ. Those 
        words you told me of. Those acts of cruelty that do not happen here. I 
        do not wish to know about them. I wish you WOULD take away the memory.” 
         
      
        “All right,” he said. And he took out his sonic screwdriver. 
        He adjusted the setting to one he had never yet used though he knew it 
        was there. He took her in his arms as he shone the blue beam of light 
        on her golden head. As he wiped away the last sad hours she fell into 
        a deep sleep. He carried her to her room. He noticed that the babies had 
        fallen asleep, too. So had the courtiers. Sammie reported that the people 
        in the streets were also asleep. That wasn’t the sonic screwdriver. 
        SHE must have done it through that symbiosis she had with her people. 
         
      
        She slept for an hour. Chrístõ stayed at her side, caressing 
        her wings lovingly. When she woke she looked up at him with a slightly 
        puzzled look.  
      
        “Why did I fall asleep?” she asked. “I remember we were 
        dancing. You let me kiss you.” 
      
        “I’m going to kiss you again in a bit,” he promised. 
        “As long as you don’t take advantage of me. You fainted when 
        you heard the rockfall. The accident. The death of one of your people.” 
      
        “Oh,” she said. “I remember. Yes. My poor people are 
        so sad for that.” 
      
        “It is right to be sad when a sad thing happens. You will all grieve 
        the loss of your friend. But then you will go on happily as you ever were. 
        When I and my friends come to see you again you WILL be happy again, I 
        am sure.”  
      
        “I will always be happy to see you, Chrístõ, my saviour.” 
         
      
        “Now I am going to kiss you,” he said. And he caressed her 
        wings as he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. She didn’t try 
        to take advantage of him, but she purred almost like Humphrey with the 
        satisfaction of his kiss on her lips.  
      
        “I feel the love you have for your chosen one,” she said. 
        “You are blessed, Chrístõ.” 
      
        “I know I am,” he told her. “So are you, Pelia. But 
        come now, lead your people through this small tragedy that has occurred. 
        Mourn with them and grow strong from it and be happy again. We are leaving 
        a friend who will help you do that. Gregson is already a little in love 
        with you. Remember… the man who came when the roof fell. He will 
        be happy with you all.” 
      
        “Yes, Gregson,” she said, and she smiled brightly. “A 
        good-hearted man. Just like you.” 
       “But one who CAN stay with you, unlike me.” 
        
      
        “They will be all right, won’t they?” Julia asked as 
        they stepped into the TARDIS and prepared to head back to Liverpool, Earth, 
        in 2007. 
       “They will be fine,” Chrístõ 
        said. “They are a people who don’t know the meaning of murder 
        and manslaughter and suicide.” 
      
        “Or weapon and enemy,” Sammie added. “I envy them.” 
        His friends all looked at him. He smiled. “Yes, EVEN me,” 
        he said. “I am sure… certain… that the side I fought 
        for was the right one. But somehow Pelia’s world makes me ashamed 
        ever to have fought at all. 
      
        “Well,” Terry said with a wry smile. “The trip wasn’t 
        a total waste then. We’ll make a peacenik of you, yet. Chrístõ, 
        How about we take him to Woodstock and make a Flower Child of him?” 
         
      
        “Nice idea,” Chrístõ said. “But another 
        trip. Bo wants to get back to Li Tuo. She would fret if we took any more 
        detours.”  
        
      
       
      
       
      
      
      
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