‘What’s Santespri?’
Mithrael frowned. ‘This is.’
‘You mean this castle?’
‘You know,’ Mithrael said, ‘this could be both intriguing and amusing. If it were not for the circumstances.’
‘You mean that you’re expecting visitors?’ Victoria asked, remembering his earlier words to Logall.
The change in Mithrael was immediate and pronounced. His face darkened and he leaned forward across the desk, his hands gripped tightly together. ‘I mean that a man is dead.’
The door that the Doctor had eventually hazarded this time led into a large square room. Heavy tapestries hung on the walls to the sides of the door, faded and threadbare with age. There were several chairs arranged round a wooden table in the centre of the room. Much of the wall facing the door was taken up with a huge window. The surround was finely finished pale stone, the mullions of a similar material and design. Either side hung dusty velvet curtains. They had once been a deep red.
‘Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.’ The Doctor closed the door behind them and made his way over to the window, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.
Jamie followed. ‘It’s night time,’ he said pointing to the window. Through it only a dark sky was visible. Tiny points of light glittered against the glass.
‘I don’t think so, Jamie.’
‘Oh come on, Doctor, it’s pitch black out there. You can see the stars.’
The Doctor was now standing at one end of the window, peering through it at an angle. ‘That’s not all you can see, Jamie. Come over here.’
Jamie joined the Doctor, craning his neck to see where the Doctor was pointing. ‘Will you look at that!’ he breathed.
Through the upper edge of the window, as the glass thickened slightly and distorted the view, he could see the rim of a planet. It was ringed, the graduated halos of colour seemingly suspended above the sphere. Its surface was a medley of reds and oranges with occasional dots of amber and lime green. And it was huge. They could see only one curved edge, the rings cutting out deeper into space, but the surface detail was clearly visible as the colours blended and melded.
‘And look down there.’ The Doctor pointed lower in the window.
Jamie turned to look. They were indeed in a castle, or a fortress. He could see the outer wall stretching round beneath them topped with fortified battlements. Several soldiers stood guard along its length, dressed in similar armour to the ones who had apprehended them in the lower part of the fortress. At the base of the wall, jutting out so that it was just visible to the Doctor and Jamie, was an outcropping of dark, jagged rock. It projected into the blackness, shadow against shadow. Jamie stared at it, trying to fit the scene into an acceptable interpretation of the world they were on.
‘We’re in space,’ he said eventually. ‘This castle is floating in space.’
‘Very good Jamie.’ The Doctor patted him on the shoulder. ‘I think it’s built into an asteroid.’
‘But how can they breathe?’ Jamie asked, pointing to the soldiers on the walkway below.
‘Oh that’s easy, just a simple osmotic field to keep the air from filtering out while allowing the light to get in. I imagine it keeps out stray meteors and energy bolts too. Anything travelling too fast like that, or too slow like the molecules that make up the air, will be blocked.’
‘Oh,’ said Jamie, trying to sound as if he understood and should have thought of this himself. ‘Aye.’ He examined the vista again, taking in the immensity of the view.
‘There’ll be some seepage I expect, but nothing too drastic,’ the Doctor went on. ‘Molecules that get too excited and break through.’
A tiny point of light caught Jamie’s eye. He was sure it hadn’t been there just now. As he watched, the light moved slowly across the window, growing bigger all the time. ‘What’s that?’
The Doctor followed Jamie’s line of sight. ‘I don’t know, Jamie.’
The light continued its progress. After a few moments, they could see that it was not a light, but a metallic object that reflected the luminance of the stars.
The Doctor laughed and clapped his hands together. ‘It’s a ship, Jamie. A spaceship. They have visitors.’
The small patrol ship manoeuvred for docking. It spun slowly on its axis, seeming to stand on the flames that erupted from its base. With a grace that defied its size, it lowered itself towards the docking pad on the East Tower. The osmotic shield round the tower flared slightly as it absorbed and distributed the power from the engines.
As the ship passed through the shield and met the air, the noise of the motors cracked across the fortress like a sonic boom. The immediate eruption of sound slowly decreased as the output from the engines was reduced.
The landing gear swung free of its housing and clicked into place beneath the craft as it dropped slowly. The heavy vehicle bounced slightly on the hydraulic legs as they absorbed the weight on impact. Smoke and steam swirled round the top of the tower, for a while obscuring the view of the ship. Then the engines shut down and the dispersers in the docking pad began to draw the fumes and smoke away.
Through the clearing mist, a figure appeared. His purple cloak streamed out behind him as he marched purposefully across the turret and towards the entrance to the fortress. He was tall, walking with an air of determination and authority. His face was thin and weathered, his eyes constantly moving as they took in every detail. The Haddron insignia of a stylised striking bird of prey was emblazoned in red and gold across the breastplate of his armour.
Behind the man two other figures slowly appeared through the thinning mist. One was an equally tall man in tight-fitting battle armour, his handsome and symmetrical features set in an expression of indifference. The other was a woman, her long blonde hair blowing free in the draught from the dispersers and her thin white gown blowing tight against the contours of her body as she walked.
The main access door opened before the figures reached it. Warden Mithrael stepped out into the night and bowed low as the man in the cloak reached him. Mithrael straightened up, and saluted stiffly – right fist across his left breast. ‘Welcome to Santespri, Consul.’
‘Thank you.’ Milton Trayx, General in Chief of the Haddron Armed Forces, waited for his wife and his aide-de-camp to reach the doorway. He let Helana pass through first. ‘Is he here?’ he asked Mithrael as they entered the fortress.
Mithrael’s reply was almost lost in the sound of the door shutting behind them. ‘I believe he is, my Lord.’
The soldier stood impassive and still by the door. Victoria remembered the captain addressing him as Darkling.
‘Are you going to keep me here all night?’ she asked as forcefully as she dared. It seemed like hours since Mithrael had left. Now Victoria was alone in the office. Alone apart from the unspeaking guard. ‘Well?’
He turned to look at her – the most movement he had made since taking up his position. ‘It’s almost morning,’ he said.
‘Nonsense. It’s still dark outside.’
Darkling frowned. ‘It’s always dark outside.’
‘And I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where we are either.’
He turned away again, his face set back into its impassive stare.
Victoria watched him for a while. When he still did not move, she went over to Mithrael’s desk and sat down in the chair behind it. That got a reaction.
‘Hey, you can’t do that. Get up at once.’
‘I’m tired,’ she snapped at him. ‘I’ve been kept standing for hours. It’s all right for you, you’re used to it. I’m not.’ She leaned back, hoping it was obvious from her posture that she was not about to get up.
Darkling hesitated by the door. He seemed unable to decide whether to ignore her, or to come over and lift her forcibly out of the chair. Victoria hoped he would settle on the former.
He was still dithering when the door swung open.
‘About time, too,’ Victoria called out.
<
br /> But the figure that entered was not Mithrael. It was a tall, middle-aged man. His face was worn, but he moved as if he were still physically fit. A purple cloak hung from his shoulders, beneath which he was wearing the same sort of armour as the rest of the soldiers. But across his chest was painted what looked like a fierce eagle mercilessly bearing down on its prey.
At the sight of the man, Darkling snapped even more uprightly to attention. ‘Sir!’ he shouted, crashing his right fist across his chest.
‘As you were,’ the man murmured. Darkling did not relax, and the man paid him no further heed. He walked quickly into the middle of the room, his expression unreadable as he looked at Victoria. Behind him, first Mithrael and then another soldier entered the room. They hung back, apparently in deference.
‘Are you comfortable there?’ The man’s voice was firm and deep, but with a slightly ragged edge to it.
‘Yes,’ Victoria said, aware of the nerves in her own voice. ‘Quite comfortable, thank you.’
‘Good. Then answering a few simple questions shouldn’t be too much of an indisposition.’
‘What questions?’ Victoria asked in alarm.
‘Well, for a start, you can tell me if anyone has offered you anything to eat or drink.’
‘No. No they haven’t,’ Victoria said in relief. ‘Thank you.’
The man turned to the soldier who had followed him in. ‘See to it, Prion. And have some wine sent in for us. I need to quench the dust of the journey from my throat.’
The man, Prion, saluted as Darkling had. ‘Sir.’ Then he turned and marched stiffly from the room.
‘What about the other intruders, my Lord?’ Mithrael hissed. ‘I told you, there are still two male fugitives at large. Either of them could be the –’
The man cut him off. ‘You worry too much, Warden. If they’re as aggressive and desperate as this young lady then I don’t think we have much to fear.’ He settled himself into a chair, angling it so as to be able to observe Victoria closely. ‘And you know as well as I, Mithrael, that we can pick them up whenever we choose to.’ He turned abruptly towards the warden. ‘Why haven’t you?’
‘Sir, I – I was waiting for you. I thought you might wish to let them run, to observe…’
The man shook his head. ‘I think not. They have run enough. You say there has been one death already. That should tell us almost everything we need to know. Some level of interrogation will no doubt provide us with any information we still lack. If that becomes necessary.’ He brushed a hand across his knee, as if dusting the shining armour. ‘But I doubt they are the ones. When I’ve had my wine, then we can look at the data.’ He turned back to Victoria. ‘For now, we can perhaps find out all there is of interest to know from our guest here.’
Victoria summoned her courage and said, ‘I have a question.’
‘Go on,’ the man replied with the ghost of a smile.
‘Who are you?’ she asked. And as Mithrael gasped in astonishment and apprehension, the man threw back his head and laughed.
‘Look at the size of this place, Doctor.’ Jamie was standing in the arched doorway at the end of the corridor. The Doctor joined him, and through the open doors they surveyed the large room in front of them.
‘Yes, it is impressive, isn’t it?’ the Doctor agreed. ‘Some sort of great hall, I imagine.’
‘The laird’s room, most likely,’ Jamie said.
The room was lit by two huge chandeliers that hung from the high, stone, vaulted ceiling. The flickering electric lights that made up the chandeliers were reflected in the polished floor. The floor itself was a chequerboard of deep-red and brilliant-white marble. Blue veins threaded their intricate way through the stone, as if holding the whole construction together.
A long wooden table ran down the middle of the room. Heavy chairs stood to attention either side of the table. A huge fireplace was set into the right-hand wall, and above it a gallery ran the length of the room, seen through wide arched windows in the stone wall. Below the gallery, beside the fireplace, similar windows gave out on to the spacescape beyond the castle.
The walls were hung with ancient weaponry – swords, a mace, shields and crossbows. Interspersed with the old were more modern artefacts of war – laser rapiers, blasters and energy dispersers.
Jamie took several seconds to assimilate all this. Then he saw the figures standing round the edge of the room, and took a step backwards. ‘Doctor,’ he hissed urgently.
‘Jamie!’ The Doctor’s answering cry was urgent and full of fear and anguish.
Jamie spun round. ‘What is it?’
The Doctor exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. ‘You trod on my foot.’
‘Sorry. But do you see –’
‘The figures, yes Jamie.’ The Doctor pushed past him into the room. With no sign of fear or apprehension he walked up to the nearest of the figures. It was standing on a raised plinth within an alcove, and Jamie could see as he approached that it was wearing armour. The visor was down, a heavy blast screen covering the eyes. The torso was bristling with attached weaponry and electronics. A patchwork of tiny indicator lights were set into the chest, and a small circular ring was set into a recess on one side of the breastplate. The forearm had the points of knives protruding from below the wrist. The hands were massive gauntlets with sharp studs in place of knuckles and fingers that ended in cruel points. Behind the wrist Jamie could see the dark opening of a small nozzle, like the barrel of a gun. The whole suit was studded with rivets and bolts, and teemed with electronic attachments and readout screens.
‘It’s all right, Jamie.’ The Doctor reached out tentatively and tapped at the figure’s chest. It made a metallic ping. ‘I think it’s just an empty suit.’
‘It’s like the armour those soldiers were wearing,’ Jamie said. ‘Only more…’
‘Sophisticated, yes.’
Jamie nodded. ‘And big. Huge.’ The whole massive suit towered over the two of them. It looked incredibly heavy, and Jamie could not imagine wearing it for any appreciable length of time. The large, polished metal boots would soon fill up with sweat.
But before he could comment, the room rang with the sound of other heavy boots on the stone floor of the corridor outside. Jamie turned at once, grabbing the Doctor’s shoulder instinctively just as the Doctor grabbed his. Several guards were running along the corridor towards them. They held long rifle-like weapons across their chests as they ran.
The Doctor’s arms flew up in the air as the soldiers approached. ‘Run, Jamie,’ he shouted as he spun on his heel. But he spun too far and too fast on the shiny marble floor. His feet skidded from under him and he lost his balance, sitting down heavily at Jamie’s feet.
‘Run,’ the Doctor shouted again, looking up plaintively at Jamie and waving his hands excitedly.
‘I’m not leaving you,’ Jamie told him, grabbing one of the Doctor’s flailing hands and yanking him to his feet.
The Doctor was already running, legs whirling in space, when his feet landed on the floor. He ran with his head down, his coat tails streaming out behind him and his hands lost in the long sleeves of his shapeless jacket. Jamie was about to follow, when he paused and turned back to the massive figure standing in the alcove beside him. He glanced at the rapidly approaching soldiers, then at the distance to the heavy wooden table in the middle of the room. Not ideal, but worth a try.
‘You keep going, Doctor,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll catch you up.’ Jamie grabbed the suit of armour by the arm and heaved on it. It was every bit as heavy as it looked. Probably more so. Jamie pulled again, casting another glance at the soldiers as they entered the room at a run.
Movement. He could just feel the suit beginning to sway on its massive feet. Jamie heaved again, straining every muscle in his powerful body in his attempt to topple the giant figure. It swayed slightly forward on its toes, and Jamie relaxed a little, let it sway back so it rocked on its heels. Just as it righted itself once more, Jamie pulled again, keeping the armour
moving forward. He felt the weight shift as it passed its centre of gravity, and looked up in satisfaction as the enormous metal figure started to fall.
Towards him. Jamie was immediately underneath the suit – directly in its path as it slowly pitched over. With a cry he leapt out of the way, turned and started to run.
Behind him the suit crashed to the floor. It remained intact despite the horrendous impact, the sound echoing round the room. The first soldier slammed into the side of the fallen figure, too late to stop or avoid it, cartwheeling over the top of the metal suit. The others started to scramble over the obstruction, but they had been slowed down considerably.
The Doctor was already through the adjoining room and out of sight as Jamie reached the door. He paused for a moment and looked back in satisfaction at the confusion as the soldiers tried to pull each other clear of the armour. Several were running round the other side of the table. Jamie smiled and turned to follow the Doctor.
The dark-grey barrel of a weapon was under his nose as he turned, just too close to focus on properly. He could smell the gun oil as he slowly raised his hands and put them behind his head. The figure behind the gun nodded back down the banqueting hall towards where the soldiers Jamie had obstructed were now approaching once again.
‘This way, I think,’ the guard said.
The Doctor made his careful way through what seemed to be the living area of the fortress. The floor was carpeted, and as far as he could tell there were bedrooms and staterooms on this floor. The whole air of the place became more splendid and opulent – more château than castle. The walls were no longer bare beneath the displays of armaments and paintings, but panelled in dark wood or hung with large tapestries.
But after a while, he found that the carpet disappeared, and the decor reverted to something more akin to the medieval, Spartan appearance of the lower level where they had landed. He arrived at a pair of massive wooden doors. They were open, and a keypad was set into the wall nearby, which the Doctor guessed controlled the locking mechanism. Beyond this point, the doors to the rooms became heavier, with conspicuous locks and large bolts.
Doctor Who: Dreams of Empire: 50th Anniversary Edition Page 5
