by Steve Cole
‘Chalskal?’ Fallomax stepped forward from the shadow of the hold, her hands raised. ‘Verv-Hoondai Chalskal?’ Estinee followed just behind her, still badly burned but with eyes shining, gripping on to a doll.
Brian announced them like the MC at a formal banquet: ‘Professor Hana Fallomax, Ambassador. And the child of Destran, Estinee.’
‘Indeed.’ With a hiss of either aggression or satisfaction, Chalskal deepened the angle of his bow. ‘I have been investigating your Lifeshroud for some time, Professor. A most ingenious invention.’
‘Except it doesn’t work,’ said the Doctor. ‘It’s a sham.’
‘Sham?’ Chalskal’s stub of a body twitched and his single eye narrowed. ‘But … I need the Lifeshroud!’
‘More than you think,’ murmured Estinee.
‘Professor,’ Chalskal growled, ‘if this is true, then you are guilty of the wilful misleading of whole populations.’
‘Without funding, I can’t—’
‘For the wilful misleading of me!’ he squeaked.
‘Oh, really.’ Fallomax put her hands on her hips. ‘Aren’t you wondering how I’ve heard of you, Ambassador?’
‘You have heard of me by reputation, no doubt, as every criminal in creation must have heard of—’
‘Nope. Wrong.’ Fallomax shook her head. ‘I know you work for the President of Skalithai. Well, her office shut down every approach I made to tell them about the Lifeshroud. I gave up in the end. Can’t win them all …’
‘Fallomax,’ said the Doctor worriedly. ‘What are you saying?’
‘It’s what one of the revenants was saying,’ Estinee put in. ‘Nine-zero-omega, four-al-hrb, one-zero-zero. I heard those words on Mordeela, years ago, from the mouth of one of your race. She wore red robes and had many tails.’
‘My predecessor, Frey-Gye? The former High Ambassador? She went missing the day the first phantoms were seen in our skies, many years ago. There were rumours that the Kotturuh had …’ Chalskal twitched again as he ran the figures into his tiny personal organiser. ‘The date you give, that’s …’
‘That’s precisely two weeks, two days and eleven hours. On that date, the Kotturuh will come to Skalithai, to judge seven billion souls.’
The words sank in heavy silence.
‘The end of the world?’ Chalskal whimpered.
‘It’s happening,’ said Estinee.
‘No.’ The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. ‘I’m not having it.’
‘And yet Lifeshroud for the masses is a sham,’ said Brian.
‘It can be made to work,’ Fallomax insisted.
‘In time? Before my world is destroyed?’ Chalskal was no longer pompous or sinister, but crumpled.
The Doctor looked around at the sea of desolate faces in the room. This was one of those moments where the universe turned. He could just go. He didn’t need to be here. He didn’t need to interfere. These people lived in a whole other age. Not his fight. Not his business.
‘Oh, we’re going to make it work, Professor,’ the Doctor beamed. ‘Not hiding out in some rock in space, burning through the cash from your snake-oil scamming. We’re going to stop the Kotturuh by building a working Lifeshroud. For real.’
Third Interlude
The dusts of Moslin blew in the low breeze, covering all tracks. It was as if he’d just dropped in from the sky. And I suppose I did, thought the Doctor. Moslin Town was still some distance away, and he sat in the mouth of a desert cave, appreciative of the shade.
The Doctor looked at the man in the dark cloak sitting beside him. Curious choice to wear black in a desert, even with sun-barriers. Was it a fashion choice, or more than that? Was he a celebrity or a truant, wanting to dodge detection? There was something off with his story about the woman he’d come here with, sleeping lightly beside him, but the Doctor supposed he’d get to the bottom of things in time. He usually did.
The Doctor was in his eighth body, now, and he felt it suited him. He’d always liked the way humans drew an ‘8’ because if you tipped it on its side it showed ‘infinity’. So, whenever and wherever he lay down, the Doctor thought about the infinity of coincidences that had guided him there. It was a kind of counting sheep, he supposed. Rest had never come easy to him; he did his best to keep out of its way. His companion had stayed sitting up, so maybe he wasn’t fond of rest either.
‘You look like Death, Brian,’ the Doctor said conversationally.
‘I look like any other of my species.’
‘No, no, I mean you look like a representation of Death. You’ve got the big black cloak, you just need a scythe …’ The Doctor smiled sadly. ‘I guess, death’s never something you can really dress up.’
‘You are a doctor,’ said Brian. ‘You do not carry a stethoscope.’
‘Told you, I’m the Doctor. I don’t listen to hearts, I feel them.’ He tapped out the double pulse on his knees, leaned back against the wall. ‘Look at us, the Doctor and Death. Reminds me of a story from Earth. Brothers Grimm. About this tailor who had many children, and his thirteenth was a girl. He decided to find a godfather to help raise the girl, and he soon ran into Death …’
Brian listened to the story as the Doctor told it, nodding his head now and then to signal his attention was being held. The Doctor was glad and went on with the tale. He liked it; he’d told it before and doubtless would again.
‘So, the doctor knows the rules, now. She can’t cheat Death.’
‘In the end, no one can.’
‘If she tried, Death had said it would go badly for her. But then the King’s lovely daughter gets sick. Really sick. And the King tells the doctor: “If you cure her, I’ll give you her hand in marriage.”’
‘Her severed hand?’
‘It’s an expression. Anyway, the tailor’s daughter goes to the Princess, who’s very beautiful, probably. And they fall in love, as some are wont to do.’
‘So I have heard.’
‘And then the lovestruck young doctor sees her godfather, Death, standing there. By the foot of the Princess’s bed. Waiting to claim her. And despite the warnings, the doctor knows she has to save her.’ He stood up and struck a heroic pose. ‘“I’m the greatest, most fantastic doctor in the world,” she says. “I can do anything.”’
‘And I suppose she turns the bed around.’
‘Have you heard this story before?’
Brian paused. ‘I have encountered people before.’
The Doctor nodded. ‘Well, she does, she turns the bed around. And now Death’s stood at the head of the bed so when the doctor gives the Princess the herbs, whaddyaknow! The Princess is cured.’
‘Godfather Death was alarmingly lax when it came to closing loopholes.’
‘Not any longer.’ The Doctor sighed. ‘This doctor had disobeyed a direct instruction from Death not to interfere. Yeah, she saved the Princess, but Death took a hold of her arm and said, “I warned you. You must come with me.”’
‘And where did Death take her?’
‘To a cavern. A huge, long, low cavern that stretched for miles, and everywhere you looked there was a candle. Some were tall and tapering, others little more than blobs of wax, the flame sputtering ready to go out. And Death told the doctor, “Each of these candles represents a life. And when the candle snuffs out, that life is ended.” And he points to a stubby little thing and he says, “This is your candle.” “No, please, Godfather,” says the doctor. “Don’t let my candle burn down. You can light another for me. I will love you and honour you and never disobey you again.” But Death just reached out his hand. That little flame was so bright, so strong, but when his bony fingers pinched out the wick it went out the same as all the others. And the doctor … she fell down dead. So much promise, come to nothing.’
There was a shudder from inside the black cloak, as if Brian were laughing. ‘I discern the point of the story,’ he said. ‘Each life has an allotted span, and any attempt to defy Death is doomed to failure. Death wi
ll not be cheated.’
‘What? Nah! Course Death can be cheated.’ The Doctor sat back down. ‘You’ve just got to keep moving afterwards. Make sure Death never catches up with you. And if Death does, make sure you’ve got something more than your arm up your sleeve.’
‘Death is not an enemy or a failure. It is simply the wax stamp at the end of Life’s contract. It is hubris to believe you are right to prolong life.’
‘It’s a surrender not to try. You can keep trying to stamp that wax on the contract if you like, Brian. I’ll keep looking for escape clauses.’ The Doctor lay back, stared into infinite space, wondering what was waiting for him across the parched dust of the desert outside. ‘There are all kinds of ways to turn a bed around, Brian. All kinds of ways.’
Brian nodded. ‘And there are many more places that Death may stand.’
Chapter Ten
Fallomax sat in her workshop on board the Polythrope, with Estinee, the Doctor and the Ood assassin. Necessity made strange bedfellows, she supposed. And so did getting busted.
She was just glad it was only house arrest for now and not the real thing. There must be some way I can get out of all this, she thought. Some way of busting loose and starting again … again.
Chalskal had been thrown into panic by the news that his world was due to fall to the Kotturuh with no viable defence. Except, weirdly, it seemed to be the Lifeshroud’s current shortcomings that had shaken him the most. The High Ambassador had left everyone locked up together while he consulted his precious alliance and his president on a course of action.
The Doctor, who’d been pacing with his hands in his pockets, suddenly kicked the wall. ‘What’s keeping Chalskal!’ he snapped. ‘Every second we wait around here we’re losing time.’
Time, thought Fallomax. I’ve spent so long tricking people into giving me more of it. She felt a mess of emotions: a sense of guilty relief to have been discovered at last, fear now of the consequences, hope of maybe finding some way to make Lifeshroud work for real, for billions. Could she actually make a go of things? If Chalskal could actually give her proper funding … If this crazy Doctor knew just one-tenth as much as he reckoned he did …
‘Chalskal’s a total creep,’ was Estinee’s opinion. Her skin was well on the way to recovery but she kept rubbing her sticky burns like they would scratch off. ‘Did you see his face when I told him about his ambassador? He almost fell on it!’
‘I’m impressed you could recall all that astronav data,’ said the Doctor.
‘When the Kotts took me to Mordeela, I had nothing to do but listen to the revenants. I used to write their words on the walls. Learn them and sing along.’ She looked down, self-conscious. ‘Silly.’
‘Brilliant,’ Fallomax corrected her. ‘Makes you the only person in the universe with an inkling of the Kotturuh Design.’
‘A considerable asset,’ Brian declared.
‘Don’t try and butter me up after shooting me, maggot head,’ Estinee retorted. ‘You don’t know a thing about it. The Kotts said they would keep me there for ever. Drain off my life to help feed the revenants. Everyone has a place in the Design.’
The Doctor muttered some names and numbers under his breath; something to do with Andalia. Fallomax thought of their last show there, of the way she’d taken off long before Estinee could’ve made it back to the Polythrope. But if the Kotts ever find me … I’m dead. She wasn’t proud of herself for leaving, but she also wasn’t sorry. It stood to reason: first priority, number one; second priority, whoever was most useful to you.
Her eyes flicked between the Doctor and Estinee.
The Doctor caught her gaze. ‘If we’re going to make the Lifeshroud work, I’m gonna need information. What’s the deal with those crystals you took from Mordeela?’
‘They’re infused with power,’ said Fallomax. ‘I believe that Mordeela is more than just a gateway to our universe from the Kotturuh realm. It acts as a conduit, a siphon, for the energies they use to unleash their mutative change on a species.’
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. ‘You think there’s a well of energy the Kotturuh draw upon, using those crystals?’
‘If you like. A well of Death Energy. Kott bodies must generate a charge that energises those crystals. Then they direct the energy through all life on a planet in a kind of genetic wave.’
‘A wave goodbye to millions of years of natural evolution.’ The Doctor looked at her. ‘How d’you come to know so much?’
‘She’s the only survivor of the Eloii Judgement,’ said Estinee, with the air of someone who’d heard a story more than once. ‘It’s why she wears that super-sized Lifeshroud.’
‘I am not super-sized!’ Fallomax protested.
‘What was the Kotturuh Judgement on Eloii?’ asked Brian.
‘They made us short-lived and sterile so we’d die off. Eloii was given over to grasses and lichens – a clean, unpolluted world for one of their preferred races to colonise some day.’
‘Preferred races,’ Brian mused. ‘No wonder some populations try to deal with Death.’
‘How do they go about it?’ the Doctor asked Fallomax.
‘They don’t get much say. Sometimes the Kotts will visit a planet and kidnap someone important … or just a random individual.’
‘The tunnels of Mordeela are full of them,’ Estinee added.
‘Sometimes, powerful ambassadors will come to Mordeela to parley.’ Fallomax paused. ‘Not all of them leave again.’
‘Incorporated into the Kotturuh Design,’ the Doctor noted. ‘How did you survive their Judgement?’
‘Her papa was a big scientist,’ Estinee cut in, ‘and they hid in outer space running experiments on Kott crystals.’
‘Papa was an exochemist and exogeologist,’ Fallomax said, ‘part of a scientific research team who’d been analysing a weird meteor for almost a century. But Papa had heard the legends of the Kotturuh across space, and was sure the meteor was a chunk of Mordeela.’
‘Perhaps it broke off when the Kotturuh built their gateway there,’ Brian suggested.
‘Fits as well as any other theory,’ said Fallomax. ‘The crystals allow the Kotts to overturn aeons of evolution in minutes, but Papa believed that running a similar charge through the crystals in the Lifeshroud could counteract the Wave and shield the wearer from its effects.’
‘See, it’s not meant to stop you dying from just anything.’ Estinee gave Brian a sour look. ‘That’s just something we say in the fundraisers. Its real job is to protect you from Judgement.’
‘But we only had enough crystals to power one Lifeshroud.’ Fallomax patted her own protective clothing. ‘Papa chose to save me, and when the Wave caught up with him …’ She paused. ‘I wish I could say I kept working on the Kott crystals to save as many people as I could. To honour his sacrifice. But, the power drains from the crystals, and if they’re not replaced … You know?’
‘I get it,’ said the Doctor quietly. ‘What about Estinee. How’d you hook up with her?’
‘The Kotturuh made me their prisoner on Mordeela.’ Estinee grimaced. ‘Fallomax happened to run into me there – or her mining machine did at any rate, scraping out crystals from the walls.’
Brian inclined his head. ‘The Kotturuh didn’t notice you, Professor, stealing their crystals?’
‘The Kotts take no interest in anything that doesn’t live,’ said Fallomax. ‘My machine scrapes up whatever it can, and I send it in whenever I can, through those tiny punctures in the shield …’
Brian held up a hand for silence. ‘Mr Ball hears Chalskal approaching.’
A couple of seconds later, Fallomax could hear it too: springy steps slapping down on the metal walkway outside. The white plastic doors swooshed open and the warty, hairy little body swept into the hold on his three thick tails.
‘Gentlebeings,’ Chalskal began courteously. ‘May this decorous bow and my continued high diplomatic standing reward you for your patience—’
‘When can we start?
’ The Doctor got to the point. ‘We’ve got to get our skates on – if we’re gonna get Lifeshrouds on your people.’
‘I’ve heard you have extremely advanced scientific facilities on Skalithai,’ said Fallomax eagerly. ‘I’m looking forward to—’
‘Out of the question.’ Chalskal cleared what passed for a throat. ‘You shall work from laboratories on board my flagship.’
‘What?’ The Doctor frowned. ‘With seven billion lives on the line?’
‘I dare not take the chance of the Kotturuh learning of your plans to counterattack,’ said Chalskal, ‘and attacking Skalithai prematurely.’
‘Mr Ball points out that the Kotturuh work to a Design,’ said Brian. ‘They are unlikely to change their schedule—’
‘I do not choose to argue with those who serve me,’ Chalskal declared. ‘The President agrees that the Functional Lifeshroud project – a project I named myself – must take place in absolute secrecy with a minimum of personnel so as not to, er, arouse suspicion.’
Fallomax looked at him. ‘We get one chance at doing this. We have to throw everything you have at this.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Chalskal agreed. ‘But in secrecy. Naturally, the laboratories are very well equipped.’ The doors slid open to reveal an entire squad of alien troops in grey protective suits. ‘There are guards waiting to escort you to your duties.’
‘Many guards,’ the Doctor observed.
At gunpoint, he, Fallomax, and Brian went with them. Holding her doll tight to her chest, Estinee followed them.
To no one in particular she whispered, ‘I told you Chalskal was a creep.’
Chapter Eleven
Days were passing and Estinee could tell that the Doctor’s mood was growing more desperate. While Fallomax experimented on improving the crystals’ energy retention, and Brian worked with Mr Ball on an abacus loom, crunching through chemical calculations (though was that all he was doing? There was always a conspiratorial air about the dapper assassin), the Doctor was following wild hunches and random leads. Unfortunately none of them had led him anywhere he’d wanted to go. And more and more, especially when concentrating, she’d hear him mutter a string of numbers and syllables under his breath – ‘kaffa four-four-sky betel …’ – and when she’d asked him about it he’d pretended to be lost in his work again.
