"Chrístõ," Julia said. "I
am worried about Natalie. This is the first time we ever had to leave
her behind in the TARDIS when we came out exploring a new planet."
"She just needs to get a bit of rest," he said. "Besides,
the territory here is way too rough for her. You be careful, too. I don't
want you getting hurt."
"Chrístõ," she said, this time in a teasing voice.
"Try to remember YOU are a teenager, too. You sound like an old man
when you fuss like that."
"I feel like one sometimes," he admitted. "Being responsible
for you both is…"
But that just made him remember that he wouldn't BE responsible for Natalie
for long. He closed his hand around Julia's as they walked, picking their
way along the side of a rushing stream that was the only negotiable path
through the thick forest. Let the future wait, he thought. For now…
For now, he was walking by a stream through a forest with Julia's hand
clenched in his. The spirit of adventure and the joy of facing the adventure
with her filled his hearts. Yes, the responsibility felt heavy sometimes.
But it was a responsibility he willingly carried.
"How much further is this village?" Julia asked as they left
the stream bed and began to climb a path on top of an increasingly high
banking with the stream rushing along below them.
"Another half mile, according to the lifesigns monitor," Chrístõ
told her. "The Theronis are a fascinating people. I looked them up
in the TARDIS databank. A Humanoid race who worship nature, a bit like
Earth pagans."
"Well, that's not surprising," Julia said. "They're surrounded
by nature."
"We're always surrounded by nature," Chrístõ pointed
out. "Even in a city there is always something of nature to be found
if you look hard enough. But indeed, this is exactly the sort of place
where pantheism is bound to flourish."
They walked on a little more in silence.
Then Julia spoke again.
"This pantheism. You mean like they believe the trees have spirits,
that sort of thing?"
"Yes."
"I wish you hadn't told me that,"
she said with a shiver. "Because some of these trees look like they
have shapes of people and faces in them."
"That's always the case when you look at trees," he said. "It's
just your imagination. But it's a very good imagination. Don't be afraid
to use it." He looked around at the trees. She was right. They were
all gnarled, twisted and yes, it was possible to see limbs and head, torsos
and even features. "That one looks like my great-grandfather,"
he said, pointing to one tree. "And the one next to it, the straight
one with the smooth, silvery bark. That could be his wife, my great grandmother.
Very upright, severe woman, as I remember her."
Julia laughed, as he hoped she would. And as they walked they pointed
out trees with features like people they knew. She stopped feeling creeped
out by them and instead started to feel as if it was a game. He was relieved.
Julia had enough real things to haunt her mind without imaginary fears.
As they drew close to where he reckoned the village to be, though, they
saw something that couldn't be put down to imagination, and opened up
all those imaginary fears again.
"Chrístõ!" Julia screamed. "That's…
it's…"
He shivered himself as he looked at the bodies tied to the trees. One
was an old man. Chrístõ guessed he must have been dead for
two or three days, judging by the texture of the flesh. But already it
was as if the body was being reclaimed by nature. Branches of the tree,
leaves, even part of the bark were closing around the body.
"When it is done, this tree will have a shape like an old man,"
Julia said. "He'll be a part of the tree."
"No," Chrístõ assured her. "It's just some
unusual burial ritual. I think."
"That one is almost ready…" She pointed to another tree
where the bark did seem to bulge and curve in the shape of a person and
as he drew nearer Chrístõ was sure he could see an actual
face half hidden by the bark. He reached out and touched it. Yes, that
HAD once been living flesh. Long dead now, with a hard, waxy, almost wooden
feel as if it was being slowly converted into vegetable matter.
That went against everything he had ever
believed about animal and plant biology. But it was an infinite universe.
And here, it seemed, in this corner of it, they really WERE close to nature.
"Look!" Julia called again. "This one is really new."
Chrístõ turned and moved towards where she was standing
now. There was, indeed, a very fresh body fastened to a tree. It was a
young woman. She had a ghastly wound in her side that almost certainly
accounted for her death and she, too, was fastened to a tree. It had not
begun to 'claim' her yet. But his own imagination was filling in the future.
He imagined the bark of the tree gradually closing over the body, and
it sinking into the tree itself, until at last it was just a tree that
looked like it had the outline of a young woman in the pattern of the
bark.
He examined the body closer and gasped in shock at what he found. She
had been dead no more than half an hour or so. She had been alive when
she was fixed to the tree. The marks of the ropes on her flesh were consistent
with tight restraints on a living body, and the wound had bled out as
she was held in place there. There was a congealing pool of it on the
ground.
"Chrístõ…" Julia's hand reached out for
his and he held it tightly.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," he assured her. "Nothing
at all." He moved away from the body and back onto the path towards
the village, meaning to find out about it if he could.
"Stand!"
a voice called out and he pulled Julia close to him as a man in tanned
leather and animal skin clothes blocked their path. He had a sharpened
flint held in his hand like a dagger and as he focussed on that fact Chrístõ
became aware of movement behind him and knew there were more of these
native warriors closing in.
More of them than he could fight bare handed.
"We mean you no harm," he said in a calm voice. "We are
peaceful travellers. We come in friendship. If we have violated a sacred
place here, I apologise and ask you to forgive us. We did not know of
your customs."
"Walk, do not speak," he was told and he nodded and held Julia's
hand tightly as they followed the lead man. He was aware of the others
behind him though he did not turn to look at them. Keeping calm and doing
as they were told was the only thing to do for now.
They were brought to the village. It was exactly what Chrístõ
had expected, a 'native village' in the sense most 'advanced' beings imagined
it to be. The buildings were made of rough hewn trees, mud and thatch
and were arranged around a square. In the centre of the village was a
'totem' - a tree that had been stripped of leaves and branches and bark
and carved with figures of animals and birds.
Their captors brought them to a hut and they were told to sit. They did
so.
"Are we…" Julia whispered when the rough door of woven
willow twigs was closed. "Chrístõ… what are they
going to do to us?"
"I don't know," he answered. "But there is no need to worry.
I think we did blunder into their sacred place. And they must be angry
with us for that. But I hope I can reason with them. If I could talk to
their leader…"
"They might kill us, and hang us on a tree to be swallowed by it."
"There is no need to think that," he assured her. "Just
stay calm."
"I'm scared," she told him.
"Come here." He reached out to her and held her tight. "You
trust me don't you?"
"Yes."
"And haven't I always taken care of you and rescued you from any
kind of trouble."
"Yes," she said. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for you."
"There you go then. And I'll look after you this time, too. Don't
you fret."
"Can you still see my future in my timeline?" she asked. "Because
if you can, then it must be all right, mustn't it?"
"It's harder when you've travelled in the time vortex. It fragments
it. The first time I held your hand, in the medical centre on the spaceship,
I could see our future together clearly. But now…" He took
her hand and closed his eyes in concentration. It was like looking at
the pieces of a shattered mirror that for some crazy reason still reflected
the last image it reflected before it was broken. Yes, in some of them
he could see her as his bride in a diamond encrusted white dress. The
destiny they both hoped for. But it was only fragments. And he wasn't
sure if he could rely on them as a true representation of the future.
The reason the timeline fractured was that their life as time travellers
was in flux. The future they would have if they stayed in one place and
time would be assured. Their destiny would assert itself. But because
they travelled to different times and places the future was not viewed
from the same point in time from one day to the next and it became uncertain.
The future depended on them not getting into dangerous situations with
primitive tribes on strange planets.
There were footsteps and then voices outside the hut. Julia pressed closer
to Chrístõ as the wickerwork door opened. Two men came in.
One of them was a tribesman who watched them carefully as if they might
try to escape.
The other man, he was surprised to notice, wore woven cotton clothes and
leather lace up shoes. He was clean shaven and had his hair cut neatly.
I'm Nigel Glover. I'm an anthropologist from Earth. I've been living with
the Theronis for a year, researching their tribal customs. I gather you've
upset them a wee bit."
"I think we have," Chrístõ answered. "You
have their trust?"
"I do," Glover answered.
Julia looked at him with a puzzled expression, then asked Chrístõ
a question.
"He's speaking English, yes," he told her. "The Theronis
weren't. We just heard their words as English because we have the TARDIS
translating for us."
In fact, he heard the tribesmen's words in Low Gallifreyan, as he heard
all languages translated for him apart from Earth English, which was his
second language - the language his mother spoke. Julia heard everything
translated into English because that was her first language. But when
Glover spoke he heard English without translation. And he replied to him
in the same. He usually spoke English anyway when he was among his Human
friends. It came as natural to him as the three forms of Gallifreyan that
were his native tongue.
"Could you intercede with the Theronis and ask them to accept our
apologies," he asked.
"I will try. But you must understand that you committed a grave error
when you touched the body of the young woman in the woods there."
"I was making sure she WAS dead," he replied. "If I could
have done anything for her…"
"You would have done more harm than good," Glover told him.
"The woman was fatally wounded in a hunting accident. She was never
going to recover. So she asked to be given to the tree spirit. She was
given an honourable wake and left to meet with the spirit. She WAS dead
when you found her?"
"Yes, she was," Chrístõ said. "Though not
for long."
"Then you didn't interfere with the spirit passage," Glover
said. "I will explain it to the village leader. You must stay here
for a little while longer. You will be safe here until it is resolved."
"Very well," Chrístõ said. "But please impress
upon…."
"I will do what I can."
Glover left again. The tribesman went with him. They were alone again.
But this time they had a little more information and a shred of hope.
"A Human, from Earth," Julia said. "So they're not cannibals
or anything."
"I never thought they WERE that," Chrístõ assured
her. "But they are bound to be suspicious of strangers who look so
unlike them. Our clothes, our hair, shoes, complexions, we are in every
way different to them. We probably even smell different. We're used to
taking showers at least twice a day with scented soaps. And beings all
the universe over fear what isn't like them until they come to understand
it."
"Well, that is true," Julia giggled. "YOU were scared of
Cam."
"I was not," he began. "Yes, yes I was scared of her…
him. But it wasn't because… It was more complicated than that. It
was…."
"It was because she was different," Julia told him. "And
because you kissed her and then found out she was a man as well as a woman."
"How did you know I kissed her?" Chrístõ asked.
He knew that was changing the conversation but he didn't have to answer
the other point. He answered it to himself. Yes, it WAS because Cam was
different that he had been frightened. He was as susceptible to that sort
of innate prejudice as anyone else. He was fortunate at least to have
had a chance to make up for that recoil instinct by allowing himself to
get to know Cam as a friend.
"All the women were talking about it. All the diplomats wives. They
thought you made a lovely couple."
"WE make a lovely couple," he assured her. "Cam is just
a friend."
"I know that," she told him. "That's why I'm not jealous.
It's ok for you to kiss women if you want."
"I don't want to," he answered. "I love YOU. I…"
But
the rest of that sentence went unfinished. The door was pushed aside once
more as Glover returned, this time with another man who was, Chrístõ
guessed, the leader of the tribe. He was dressed in the same kind of leather
and skins, but with an elaborate headpiece of feathers and animal teeth
and he carried himself in a way that seemed to mark him out as a leader.
"I have spoken to Mzo here, and the other elders," Glover said.
"They are prepared to overlook your sacrilege as it was done in ignorance
not malice. And bid you come to feast with them as they pay honour to
their gods."
"Thank you," Chrístõ said standing and bowing
his head to the elder, hoping that was recognised as a gesture of respect.
He tended to find that it was in most places in the universe.
Julia stayed close to him, clasping his hand tightly as they walked out
of the hut. It was about midday, with the sun at its zenith. The people
were gathered in the square in two concentric rings around the totem.
They were talking among themselves at first, but when the leader and the
strangers were seen they quietened. The outer ring opened up to allow
them to pass and Glover told Chrístõ and Julia they should
sit in the inner ring, with the elders. They did so.
Food and drink were the first order of the proceedings. A basket of some
kind of flat bread and some fruit of a sort Chrístõ had
never seen before, but which he thought looked edible, was placed in front
of them, along with a large gourd like pot with a fruit flavoured liquid
in it. Chrístõ tasted the liquid carefully before he would
let Julia drink it. He wanted to be sure there was neither alcohol nor
any kind of drug nor indeed, subtle poisons in it. The tribe appeared
to be friendly to them now, but he was being cautious. There might still
be resentments of their 'sacrilege'.
It seemed to be all right, though he could not have said what the flavour
was. He gave some to Julia and reached for one of the pieces of bread.
He broke it in half and tasted that, too. Again it seemed to be wholesome
enough and he shared it with her.
"So…" Chrístõ said to Glover as the general
buzz of conversation resumed over the shared meal. "This tree spirit….
The dying are brought to be given to it?"
"Yes. The trees absorb the body and the soul becomes one with the
tree."
"That's an interesting theology," Chrístõ said.
"I've never come across it before."
"It's more than a theology. I've seen it. You saw it too, surely.
The bodies being absorbed into the tree. The bark closing around them
until they are part of it."
"I saw two or three old bodies that the undergrowth had partially
covered. I didn't know what to make of it, except that… either bodies
take a long time to decompose or the trees grow very fast."
"The trees are alive," Glover said. "They have living spirits
within them and they are alive."
Chrístõ looked at the man and considered what he had said.
As an anthropologist, he was supposed to observe the customs of the people
but not become involved in them, and certainly not to speak of them as
if he fully believed in them. His form of words, though, seemed to suggest
that Glover was a convert to the pantheism of the Theronis.
"Seen it?" he questioned.
"Yes," he answered. "Many times. Not just natives. I had
two colleagues with me. The pilot of our space craft, Malik, and my cousin,
Halley. They were both fatally injured in accidents. And when it was clear
they could not live much longer they, too, were taken to the woods. I
watched them being lashed to the trees. They were scared at first. But
then they became calm. They were… serene. They knew it wasn't death
that was coming to them, but a different sort of life. I watched them
die… and day by day I watched the trees claim them, body and soul.
And I knew they would be all right."
Chrístõ was interested for several reasons. He wanted to
know as much as possible about these strange ideas in case they posed
a threat to either himself or Julia, or both. But the first, and overriding
reason was the reason he wanted to travel the universe in the first place,
the reason Glover was an anthropologist, for that matter. To learn about
new people and new worlds, new wonders. And the idea that flesh and blood,
organic matter, could somehow be transformed, subsumed into vegetable
matter, that the soul of a living, breathing being could become the spirit
of a tree, was incredible.
He would have said it was impossible, that it was the stuff of legend,
of fantasy, of Greek literature with it's dryads and hamadryads, of Tolkein's
Middle Earth, of M'a'lien Cobalt's Tetran Quartet or several other fantasy
works of fiction he had come across in his father's library as a boy.
He would not have believed that it could be done. His scientific knowledge
of biology and plant biology told him that they were two different things,
that one could not be changed into the other.
At least not without the animal life being ground down and turned to compost
or the plant life being cooked and eaten and digested in the stomach of
the flesh and blood being.
And in neither case could he imagine the soul being intact at the end
of the process.
"The process takes several days?" Chrístõ asked,
deciding to test exactly what it was that Glover and the Theronis believed
in. "How many days?"
"Six with a dead body. But I've seen it happen much faster. It can
be completed in a few hours."
"How?"
"When there is a willing victim," Glover said. "When one
of the people of the village volunteers to join the tree spirit while
he or she is still fully alive."
"They make Human sacrifices?" Julia had relaxed as they ate,
but now Chrístõ felt her stiffen warily and look about her
at the villagers. "Oh…"
"Willing sacrifices," Glover repeated.
"Are you sure that is the case?" Chrístõ asked.
"Because people can be persuaded to do all sorts of things. Emotional
pressure, promise of rewards for their families… blackmail…
Sometimes people are simply educated in such a way that they are given
to believe that is their destiny. I've heard of it before. On Earth, in
the Aztec times… they would select a 'Perfect Victim' and he or
she would be taught to regard their death as an honour."
"No, it is not like that at all," Glover insisted. "The
victims here… well, really victim is the wrong word. It IS an honour
to join with the spirits they worship. They do it joyfully and willingly.
It is quite beautiful to watch, and quite painless to the one who has
chosen to give himself."
You've seen it?"
"Yes, I have. And you will see it yourself later. Today a volunteer
is to be chosen. He or she will join with the spirits tonight before sundown."
"We won't be here to see that," Chrístõ said.
"We have to return to our ship long before then. This was only a
short trip to see the Theronis in their natural habitat. We have seen
more of them than we expected. To share a meal with them is a wonderful
experience for us both, but we shall be on our way before such a ceremony
begins."
"The ceremony is already begun," Glover told him. "This
is all a part of it. In a few minutes there will be music and tribal dancing.
You may be able to slip away later, but it might be better if you stayed.
It might be thought impolite."
"I don't want to stay and watch somebody become a tree," Julia
said. "Not even if they WANT it. Let's go home to the TARDIS before
it gets dark. Besides, Natalie will be worried about us."
Chrístõ was inclined to agree with her. As curious as he
was about this amazing metamorphosis that Glover described he wasn't at
ALL sure he wanted to see it, either. He knew he SHOULD be more curious,
but he wasn't. The very idea of it made him shiver. And he really didn't
want Julia exposed to something that even he was repulsed by.
"I understand," Glover said. "But do stay a little while
longer. You will find the dancing quite interesting, and perfectly harmless."
"I WOULD like to see the dancing," Julia admitted. "Maybe
I could learn something to use in my ballet practice."
"There
you go then," Glover said triumphantly. "Now, let us all share
in another of the traditions. See, we all drink from the Cup of The Tree."
Chrístõ watched as a great wooden cup or chalice was brought
to them. It was another piece of remarkable native art. The wide, deep
bowl was held up by the branches of a carved tree. As he looked at it
closely he saw that the tree could, at the same time, be a woman with
arms outstretched above her head. It was a beautiful carving that he would
have admired if he hadn't been told about people becoming trees.
Glover drank deeply from the cup first. Then he passed it to Julia. Chrístõ
leaned forward as if to stop her, but she had already begun to drink.
But Glover had already drunk from it, and so had the chief and the elders
before him, so it must be all right, he reasoned, relaxing a little as
it was passed to him.
The liquid was the colour and consistency of full cream milk, but it tasted
more like fermented fruit. And he knew as soon as he drank that it WAS
in some way alcoholic.
"Shouldn't have let you drink it," he said to Julia. "You're
too young to drink." But he drank deeply from it himself and enjoyed
the taste enough to take a second draught. He almost reluctantly passed
the cup on and leaned back, feeling at ease. He had been worried about
nothing, he told himself. Everything was just fine. Even if they didn't
get back to the TARDIS before dark, they had torches and a homing beacon
in his backpack that would help him find his ship. And Natalie knew they
were going out for a whole day's ramble in the woods. Even Humphrey could
manage for a few hours without him.
"It's nice here," he heard Julia say. "We can stay a bit
longer, can't we?"
"Course we can," he answered picking up a fruit from the basket
and biting into it. It had the same flavour as the drink, but not alcoholic.
He shared it with Julia who snuggled close to him.
He felt strangely light-headed, but he wasn't very worried about it. It
was a nice feeling. He wondered if it was what being drunk felt like for
Humans. If so, then he thought he had missed out on a lot of fun. Next
time he was on Earth and had the chance he ought to try it, he thought.
Julia had never been drunk either. And she
didn't know what it was that made her feel so excited and expectant of
something even more exciting about to happen. She noticed that Chrístõ
was looking a little sleepy. He laid himself down beside her and smiled
warmly and lazily at her. But she didn't feel tired. She felt energised.
She wanted to dance.
And she had the chance. When everyone had drunk from the "Cup of
The Tree" one of the Theronis began to tap a beat on a drum. It was
slow at first, like a slow heartbeat, then faster, like a heartbeat of
somebody running. No, she realised. It was too heartbeats, in syncopation.
"They made it sound like your hearts beating," she said to Chrístõ,
but he didn't reply. He smiled and nodded but he looked too sleepy to
reply. She stood up and stepped forward into the clear area in front of
the totem and she began to dance to the beat. She was the lover of the
one whose hearts beat that way and she was dancing to please him.
Soon other people came and danced with her. It was a whirling, abandoned
dance of celebration, of the joy of life, of the joy of nature, and she
danced as she loved to dance, not caring about anything but that rhythm
that seemed so very familiar to her.
Chrístõ watched her dance and smiled. She looked so beautiful
and so happy.
He did wonder if he was drugged. He was almost sure he was. He idly analysed
the contents of his stomach. The 'milk' that he had drunk last did it,
he decided. There was something in it, sap from a tree of some sort, he
thought. And it WAS a powerful hallucinogenic and a muscle relaxant.
So that was it?
Oh well, he thought and lay down again on the grass. Nothing harmful.
All natural ingredients, after all. Nothing that could harm him. In fact
it seemed to have done him some good. He hadn't felt this free for so
long. He was always worried about something. He was worried about Natalie,
worried about Julia, worried about whether his cousin Epsilon was going
to try to kill him again. He worried about his tasks for the Time Lords
and whether they would, in the end, decide that they should do more practical
things to help people elsewhere in the universe. He worried about having
a birthmark in the shape of the seal of Rassilon that meant he was 'chosen'
by fate to fulfil a great destiny.
He worried about too much, most of the time, for one his age.
But right now, he wasn't worried. And he was glad of it. He lay there
and smiled dreamily as he watched the dancing feet. He could tell Julia's
feet because she was wearing shoes and socks but otherwise she was as
one with all the other dancers, male and female.
Should dance with her, he thought lazily.
Maybe later. First a little sleep. And he closed his eyes and dreamed
a dream that was in time to the rhythm of his own heartbeats.
He woke suddenly. There was no dancing, no
drums now. But there WAS a very strange and ominous chant.
He was bound very tightly and thoroughly, arms pinned to his waist and
legs immobilised. He was being carried along by several of the Theronis
who held him high over their heads as they tramped through the forest.
He turned his head and saw that Julia was also tied up and being carried
in a similar way. She seemed to be asleep.
"Help," he yelled. "Glover! Help, what are they doing?
You said…"
"Just stay calm," Glover answered him and he turned his head
and saw the anthropologist walking alongside him with the village elders.
"And it will all be so much easier. You and your little girl have
been selected as the volunteers to be given to the Great Tree Spirit."
"I think they have seriously misunderstood the word 'volunteer' and
YOU have lost it completely. You're not one of them. Why are you…"
"The Great Tree Spirit gives health and joy to those who pay it homage,"
he said. "I embrace the spirit."
"Let us go," Chrístõ pleaded. He flexed his muscles
and tried to loosen the bonds, but they were made of some kind of very
strong fibre and the effort only caused painful wheals on his arms. They
repaired themselves straight away, but it did no good to keep struggling,
even so. He had to hope that there was a chance of escape when they got
where they were going.
"Let you go?" I think not. "The Great Tree Spirit will
be pleased with the offerings made this day. We shall all be rewarded."
"What have you done with Julia? Why is she still asleep?"
"Just a little drink from the Cup of The Tree. She liked the taste.
No complaints from her. She was starting to worry why you wouldn't wake
up, so we had to calm her down."
The party stopped and Chrístõ was put into a kneeling position.
His head was pulled back so that he could see the Great Tree Spirit.
It was certainly a tree. And it was great in that it was one of the thickest
tree trunks he had ever seen. It must have been several metres in circumference.
And there was very distinctly a face in the gnarled bark. A stern, dignified
face, wrinkled and old with great age. He was strangely reminded of the
Face of Boe. But Boe was flesh and blood of a kind. THIS was a tree. The
features were solid wood. And it could not speak no matter how much the
elders bowed down and asked it to favour them.
Chrístõ blinked as he saw the great wooden lips move and
a voice spoke.
"Who comes before the Great Tree Spirit?" it asked.
"We bring willing flesh to be joined
in body and spirit to your children of the forest, great one," the
leader of the village replied obsequiously. "A young maiden and a
strong youth."
Chrístõ tried to protest that he was not a willing participant
but a gag was forced into his mouth by Glover who very definitely WAS
a willing participant.
"The maiden will join with the willow,"
the voice said. "Slender and supple, she will bend in the wind. The
youth shall be a larch, tall and brave against the winter storms."
Chrístõ watched helplessly as Julia was held upright against
the trunk of a willow tree to the left of the Great Tree. Her arms were
lashed to it above her head and she was tied by the waist and legs. Her
head was pressed back against the bark of the tree and Chrístõ
watched in amazement as a thin whip-like branch, with leaves budding on
it, coiled around her forehead, holding it in place. The tree was alive
and it was already trying to possess her.
But he was not allowed to watch her for long. He was lifted by strong
hands and himself pressed against a tree, this one a tall larch. He was
lashed to it by the shoulders and waist and by his legs. Strong, thin
branches began to snake around him even before they were done. He shuddered
as he felt one closing around his neck.
"Oh, Great Tree Spirit, take this willing flesh as our offering to
you," the leader intoned, bowing and backing away as all the villagers
did. Glover was among the last to go. He looked up at Chrístõ
and then reached and took the gag from his mouth.
"Relax," he told him. "It is a pleasant experience. I was
not lying about that. My companions were frightened at first, but they
realised they were going to a wonderful place and they were glad in the
end."
"When I get free, I am going to burn your tree spirit to charcoal,"
Chrístõ vowed.
"In an hour or a little more the only freedom you will know is the
wind through your branches." Glover turned and bowed to the Great
Tree Spirit and then he, too, retreated through the forest.
Chrístõ sighed and tried once again to loosen his bonds.
Even if they cut through to the bone, he thought, he had to get free.
He strained and pulled at the strong fibres. They cut deep and his blood
flowed as he struggled. Tears pricked his eyes from the pain and the effort.
But slowly the ropes holding his wrists to his body were slackening, he
was sure. He pulled one more time and his left wrist was free. It was
bleeding badly and it hurt, but it was free.
One hand was free. But he was still tightly fastened to the larch trunk
and the pressure on his neck was increasing as the thin branch snaked
twice around. The needle-like leaves pricked his skin and one of the small,
tight cones lodged painfully against his Adams apple as it slowly increased
its pressure on his neck
Chrístõ closed off his lungs and recycled the air that was
left in them. A Human being would be dying of asphyxiation by now, slowly
and painfully. He was in pain, but he was not dying. At least not yet.
He calculated his chances of escape. The core sense of the thing he was
struggling against was that of a tree. Its concept of time and movement
was calculated in years, seasons, months, not hours and minutes and seconds.
If he moved fast it wouldn't even know he HAD moved.
He was right. He had his sonic screwdriver in his hand and was setting
it to welding mode before another thin branch had begun to snake around
and reach for his wrist. He applied it carefully. He didn't want to weld
his own neck. As the branch was seared through though, he felt the pressure
on his neck ease. He quickly applied it to his other bonds and braced
himself to fall as he cut the last one.
He rolled as he hit the ground, coming up with his sonic screwdriver held
outstretched. He rarely used it as a weapon. Sometimes he let people think
it WAS a weapon. It was a good bluff and it usually worked. This time,
it WAS a weapon. The welding mode could cut through the hardest metals
in minutes. It took only seconds to cut through wood and he used it to
clear his path of creeping, snaking branches and roots that tried to claim
him back for the Larch spirit as he tried to reach Julia. He tried to
call to her, but his trachea was still mending and it was another half
a minute before he could even draw breath fully, let alone scream. When
he did, though, it was her name he called.
"Julia…." He reached the willow tree and gasped in shock
as he saw her. Already the tree had begun to claim her. The bark was closing
around her legs and lower torso and the creeping branches were folding
around her arms. She looked like the figure in the carving on the Cup
of The Tree that they had drunk from.
He raised his sonic screwdriver again and began to slice through the creeping
branches. But when he did her eyes snapped open and she screamed as if
he was cutting into her flesh. He stopped and touched her cheek gently
as her eyes closed again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Julia…"
He kissed her cheek and turned from the willow. He ran towards the 'Great
Tree Spirit.' He looked at the big face that had so clearly spoken before.
"Give her back to me!" he shouted at it. "Give her back,
now. She was not yours to take. Give her back or I will burn you, and
every tree around here except HERS." And to prove it he adjusted
the sonic screwdriver to laser mode and fired the beam at the nearest
tree, searing a great, wide cut in the drunk and setting leaves alight.
It shuddered just as if it was a living thing and the branches shrank
back away from him. He turned and aimed at the Great Tree.
"Why do you wish to undo what was done? Only the dying and the willing
are brought to me. She came of her own free will."
"She did NOT!" Chrístõ cried out in reply. "She
was NOT a willing victim! She was kidnapped and drugged and bound to the
tree. They tried to hang me."
"If that is true…." The voice seemed to be thinking slowly.
There was a low rumble that might have been its brain ticking over.
"It IS true. She was taken against her will, against MY will. And
you WILL give her back to me."
I cannot GIVE her back. You must TAKE her back," the voice said.
"But you must do it quickly. Before her essence is transformed."
"How?" he asked. "I tried to cut the tree. It only hurt
her. As if she is already a part of it."
You must find her spirit and take that back. Then she can be freed."
"And how do I…." he began
to ask, but suddenly the Great Tree Spirit gave a groan and the tree split
open to reveal a cavern within. He stepped forward nervously and was not
at all surprised when the door closed behind him with a creaking of age
old wood.
He WAS surprised by two things.
Firstly, he could see. Of course, his Gallifreyan eyes could always see
better than most other species as long as there was a small amount of
light. But there WAS a sort of diffused greenish-brown light coming through
the walls, a warm light. Sunlight being photosynthesised by the living
tree that he was in.
Secondly, it was bigger on the inside than the outside.
And that really DID surprise him. His people had developed dimensional
relativity as a science. It was astonishing to discover that on this planet
it was a fact of nature.
He turned around and around and tried to get his bearings. There were
tunnels leading off from the central trunk where he was. Branches, he
thought to himself. But which one would lead him to Julia? He knew he
didn't have much time.
If he had his backpack he could trace her with the portable lifesigns
monitor. But that must be in the village still. He wondered what a primitive
people would do with such technology.
Probably start a new religion, worshipping it, he told himself, grimly.
He wished he had a few other things from his backpack, too. Like the drinking
water pack. His throat was horribly dry and painful still even though
his body had repaired the damage.
Think, he told himself and looked at the sonic screwdriver. In a pinch
it could act as a lifesigns detector. It wasn't very good, but there weren't
any other people here so…
Yes. It was picking up something. He turned in the right direction and
walked.
The tunnels were eerie. The walls were made of living wood. And he could
feel the sap running through them, hear the slow heartbeat of the tree.
He wondered, if he stood still, would it start to absorb him as it had
tried to do to Julia? The thought made him move faster. Not quite running,
but a fast, long-legged walk.
"Julia," he called out as he moved "Julia, hold on. I'm
coming for you. Don't let this thing take you from me. Hold onto yourself.
Remember me."
He was running now. The ground was rough and he wasn't sure that something
wasn't trying to deliberately trip him, but he ran surefooted and steady
as the sonic screwdriver emitted an increasingly rapid beep that told
him he was getting close to her.
He rounded a bend and he saw her. She was lying on the ground, curled
up small and still in a drugged sleep. He lifted her in his arms and examined
her. She was still her. He could feel her dreams when he touched her face.
She was dreaming of dancing. The dance was one in which willow trees dipped
and bowed in the wind, but it was her dream, not the spirit of the tree.
"She is MINE," he cried as he stood with her in his arms. "Now
LET ME OUT!"
"Take her!" The Great Tree Spirit voice boomed all around him
and there was a creaking, cracking sound again. Chrístõ
stepped backwards and stumbled and fell, Julia, still in his arms, fell
on top of him.
He looked up at the canopy of trees with the sun shining through them
at a slant as it dipped towards sunset. He was lying in the leaf litter
of the forest floor, and both of them were covered in broken bits of tree
bark, leaves and twigs that had come away as he released her from the
willow tree.
Julia was still asleep, still oblivious to what had happened. Chrístõ
stood up still holding her and looked around. He saw the Great Tree Spirit's
face again.
"Go," it said. "While you can."
"You must make sure this does not happen again," he told the
Spirit. "No more unwilling victims. You must reject anyone whose
heart is not wholly give up to you."
"I will do so," the Great Tree Spirit said. "But you must
go, now. The forest is alive and the spirits are restless. Neither of
you will survive another sojourn within my domain."
Chrístõ turned and began to walk away quickly. Julia was
dead weight in his arms, but he bore the burden as well as he could. He
held on to her tightly as he moved. He wouldn't let her go for anything.
But his hearts ached with the thought of how far he had to carry her to
reach the TARDIS. And if the trees were against him it would be a hard
struggle every step of the way.
"Stop!" His hearts sank even deeper as he heard the sounds of
the Theroni tribesmen closing around him. He turned and saw Glover step
out from among the trees, a sharp flint dagger raised.
"Oh, go away," he groaned. "I've had enough of the lot
of you."
"You have committed the worst sacrilege yet," Glover told him.
"You must die, and the girl given again to the Great Tree Spirit."
"The Great Tree Spirit won't take her again," Chrístõ
said. "It will not take any more unwilling sacrifices. Now get out
of my way, all of you or I…."
Glover and the Theronis all looked around in wonder at the strange, almost
animal noise. The phrase Deus ex Machina popped into Chrístõ's
head. But he smiled as he turned to see his TARDIS materialise in a rush
of displaced air. As the Theronis cowered in shock he ran to the door.
It opened automatically and he stepped over the threshold to safety. As
the door closed behind him he was surprised to see Natalie at the console.
"But…" he said. "You can't… how…"
His words were drowned by Humphrey's half joyful, half sorrowful howls.
Joyful because he and Julie were back aboard the TARDIS and safe, sorrowful
because Julia was still unconscious.
"It's all right, Humphrey," he said. "She just needs to
wake up." He took her to the sofa and laid her down gently. "Natalie,
you look after her while I get us into orbit, and then you can explain
how you managed to pilot my TARDIS."
“The TARDIS did it,” she said
as she went and sat by Julia’s side. Humphrey hovered nearby, humming
with concern. “It told me you were in trouble and you needed it.
And it showed me what to do.”
“The TARDIS knew I needed it?”
Chrístõ was startled by that idea. But as he put them into
temporal orbit, his hands moving across the controls that were so familiar
to him he thought about it again. He and his ship WERE symbiotic. His
pattern was imprinted on it. And it had a consciousness of a sort. Why
shouldn’t it KNOW that he was in trouble? And why shouldn’t
it communicate with Natalie? It had done so much else to accommodate her,
like the school room and the bedroom next to Julia’s that pleased
them both. He had been rescued by a pair of females, one human, the other
machine, who both worried about him. It made perfect sense.
"She's starting to wake up," Natalie said. Chrístõ
locked off the controls in temporal orbit and came to her side. Julia
stirred and put her hand to her forehead and moaned slightly.
"Where am I?" she asked. "What happened?"
"You drank something you shouldn't have done," Chrístõ
told her. "I think you have a little bit of a hangover. And that's
a lesson for you. Don't drink anything on a strange planet unless I tell
you it's ok."
"I remember dancing with the people in the village and then…
the Great Tree Spirit. They were going to make a sacrifice…"
"Oh, that. That was just a bit of mumbo-jumbo that Mr. Glover made
up to tease you with. They don't really sacrifice living people. They
had a sort of effigy, like Guy Fawkes, that they took to the forest."
Nearly as far back as he could remember,
Chrístõ had been taught by his mother that telling lies
was a bad thing to do. His father had been even more insistent that he
expected honesty from him. But there were times when a lie was necessary
and he was sure even his mother would understand this was one of those
times.
"It was quite boring really," he
added. "You didn't miss much."
"I dreamt about the trees," she told him. "I have an idea
for a dance. I'll show you tomorrow."
"I'll be happy to see it," he answered. "But tomorrow,
I think we'll be somewhere a long way from trees. Natalie, dear, how would
you like it if I landed the TARDIS on a nice luxury cruise liner and we
took a bracing sea voyage?"
"I think that would be a very nice idea,"
she answered him. She knew there was something that happened out there.
Something so frightening even the TARDIS was disturbed. But she was glad
Julia was unaware of it and that Chrístõ was ready to put
it behind him. "As long as it's not the Titanic," she added
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