Vanderdeken's Children

by Christopher Bulis

  'Fire!' said Vega over the sound channel.

  'Doctor!' Sam shouted.

  The screen filled with searing light as an incandescent plasma pulse enveloped the TARDIS.

  Chapter 2

  The Diplomat

  A curious sound echoed along the narrow, dimly lit aisles between the stacks of cargo containers.

  It was a rasping sigh, rising and falling rhythmically and steadily deepening in pitch. A flashing light appeared, hovering in midair like a will-o'-the-wisp.Then a ghostly object materialised under it and took on a solid form.

  The sound became a harsh throaty whir, then ceased abruptly with a final dull reverberating thud. Externally the new arrival resembled a battered British police public call box - a device made obsolete by advances in communications technology over a thousand years before the current time.

  The lantern on its roof ceased to flash. A narrow door in its side opened and the Doctor and Sam stepped out. For a moment the console room was visible behind them, its spaciousness somehow contained within an object no more than two metres wide and three high. Then the Doctor closed the door on the pocket universe of folded time and space, leaving only its incongruous exterior on show.

  'What do you know,' said Sam.'A narrow escape. Haven't had one of those for hours.'

  The Doctor was looking about him with satisfaction. 'Right on target: the liner's cargo hold.The TARDIS seems to have an affinity for such places. I feel quite at home. Many's the eventful hour I've spent in them hiding, being arrested as a stowaway or evading the clutches of some shambling monstrosity with bad breath. Actually, cargo holds are the ideal spot for a clandestine arrival. Nobody about to ask you awkward questions.At least not usually...'

  'You should write a book on them,' said Sam. 'Bestseller material, cargo holds.'The Doctor looked at her sharply for traces of sarcasm, but her blue eyes were wide and innocent. 'So now we're free again with a single bound,' she continued,'what do we do next?'

  'First, find out what course of action these people intend to take regarding the alien ship. I don't want them interfering with it until I've had a chance to examine it more closely myself.There's obviously no love lost between them and the crew of the warship.They mustn't goad each other into acting rashly.' He looked about him again. 'We might as well work from here; clearly drifting in free space close to the derelict will only incite more misunderstandings.'

  'And you think they'll take kindly to stowaways?'

  'They won't have to,' the Doctor said mildly. 'We'll establish ourselves legitimately to prevent awkward questions being asked. We might have to stay for a while and somebody would inevitably notice if we kept popping down here. Yes. Let us be upwardly mobile and acquire some conventional lodgings more suited to our status.'

  'You mean find some cabins. And just what status do you have in mind?'

  'Something appropriate to the circumstances which we may turn to our advantage should the need arise.' He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. 'Can we take advantage of our relative isolation? I wonder. What were Vega and Lanchard saying about the Federation? Ah, yes. Just a minute.'

  And he slipped back inside the TARDIS again, leaving Sam alone to contemplate the limited attractions of the cargo hold. She kicked a shelf bracket moodily. 'Real bestseller material.'

  Being the Doctor, he actually did rejoin her one minute later.

  He was carrying a coil of cargo binding tape identical to that securing the cartons around them. With Sam's help he wrapped several bands around the TARDIS, still allowing room for them to duck between them to use the inward-opening door, and tied a replica cargo label in place. It bore only their names - their room numbers and destination were blank.

  'We'll fill in the details later,' he explained. 'Now you'd better take this.'

  He fished out a couple of thin rectangles of plastic card from his pocket and handed one to Sam.

  'Ever thought of going into forgery in a big way, Doctor?' she said, as she examined the impressive identity card bearing her face, coded retina pattern and thumbprint. 'If this is me, who are you?'

  He showed her his card. She whistled.

  'Can even you carry that off?'

  'Naturally,' he assured her airily. 'If one is going to be an impostor, one might as well impost in a big way. Now, shall we see if we can find a lift?'

  The hold's crew door was locked, but a few seconds' work with the Doctor's sonic screwdriver persuaded it to open for them. At the end of the utilitarian corridor beyond was a lift. Several deck levels were listed beside the control panel, together with their amenities. Sam thought the Hydrosolaria and Games Courts sounded interesting, but the Doctor chose Passenger Deck 2: Library.The lift ascended silently, and in a few seconds the doors had opened on to a wide, thickly carpeted corridor. The Doctor held Sam back for a moment until a couple of people, casually dressed in shorts and brightly patterned, loose shirts, walked past. Then they slipped out. As the lift doors closed behind them Sam saw they were labelled CREW ONLY.

  Following the signs, they found the library with its banks of book disks, reader screens and computer stations.The room contained only a handful of people and the Doctor rapidly found a free terminal. He selected

  'keyboard function only', cutting the audio responses.

  'Just make sure nobody looks over my shoulder for a couple of minutes,' he said quietly.

  As Sam kept watch his fingers flew across the keyboard faster than any human hands could move. His own eyes were wide, intense and unblinking, a slight smile turning up the corner of his mouth. A few times the screen flashed in protest at his delving into files he should not have accessed, but evidently whatever passwords and security locks the system possessed were no match for his hacking skills. He really looks like some wild musician, Sam thought, playing a symphony of deception.

  The Doctor tapped the last key with a flourish and sat back, flexing his fingers.

  'You can relax now. We are officially passengers of the G&C Lines Star Cruiser Cirrandaria , registered on Emindar. We only boarded the ship at its third port of call, Renaris 5, two days ago, which explains why our faces will be unfamiliar to the other passengers and crew. We have two adjoining first-class cabins. Note their numbers and deck levels in case anybody asks. We'll probably be invited to sit at the Captain's table when the computer, belatedly, alerts the steward to our eminence.'

  Sam shook her head in amused disbelief, and the Doctor beamed and flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his coat collar. 'A little luxury once in a while never hurt anyone,' he observed. Then with a sudden rush of energy he sprang to his feet. 'But that's for later. First we must find out exactly what's going on here.'

  There was a folded pamphlet lying on a side table bearing the legend,'Guide to the SC Cirrandaria ' .The Doctor opened it to reveal a plan of the ship. Scanning it intently, he strode out of the library, turned sharply left and disappeared down the corridor. A moment later he reappeared heading in the opposite direction, followed by Sam, who was trying to keep a straight face.

  ***

  Captain Coryn Lanchard glared across at the distinguished personage sitting opposite, and wished once again that J. Kale Rexton, HC, had chosen another ship to grace with his presence; preferably one belonging to another shipping line.There was still a military edge to his manner, though he'd been a Councillor for ten years and on the High Council for three. He was tipped as the next First Councillor when Kapour stepped aside, which didn't make the task of facing him down any easier. That was why she'd invited him to join her in her day cabin, where they could speak in private.There was a possibility she would have to use language unsuitable for the ears of junior officers, and of which G&C Lines' board of directors might not approve.

  'I'm as much a patriot as you are, Councillor,' she assured him, as soon as they were seated. 'But I have a duty to my passengers and crew which must take priority. I have been as firm as I can with Vega, but at the first sign of any physical threat either from him or that alien ship
, I will have to give way.'

  Rexton leaned forward, chin thrust out intimidatingly even as his clear blue eyes transfixed her.

  'I don't doubt your patriotism, Captain, just your inexperience in situations like this. If you stand fast the Nimosians will not dare to use force against us. The offworlders aboard are a guarantee of that.'

  'And you heard me point that very thing out to Vega. But suppose he decides to call my bluff?'

  Rexton made a dismissive gesture, as though brushing aside the lives of almost three thousand people as inconsequential.

  It is a calculated risk. All that matters is that the Nimosians must not be allowed to take possession of that craft out there.'

  Lanchard slammed the arm of her chair with her clenched fist. 'But why?

  What's so special about it? Give me some reason for all this.'

  Rexton did not rise to her show of anger and his face merely became stonier. 'I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything more at this time. Just be assured it is a matter of the highest priority.The security of Emindar itself may be at stake here. You must hold this position until a relief force arrives.'

  'But when will that be? We're a long way from the nearest naval base.'

  "They'll come at maximum speed, I assure you. Meanwhile you will remain on station and make every effort to board the craft before the Nimosians.'

  'You are aware,' she pointed out carefully, 'that this may be a first-contact situation - if there are any crew left on that ship. We are neither equipped nor trained for this sort of operation. Presumably the relief force will be.There are rules about handling such situations which -'

  'There areguidelines ', Rexton corrected her.'And they are subject to change depending on circumstance .You can be sure the Nimosians won't let themselves be hindered by them in the least, so we cannot afford to be either.The evidence suggests the vessel is abandoned, but should it prove otherwise I know all ships' captains are briefed on the correct procedure. If you feel unequal to the task I will take full responsibility for the consequences and you may complain to the proper authorities in due course. But meanwhile you will do as I tell you.'

  He didn't raise his voice particularly, but then there was no need. She noted that Rexton's hands as they rested on his knees were clenched so that the corded tendons showed across their backs. His greying hair still bristled in a severe military cut, reminding her that he was still a general in the spacefleet reserve. His eyes were steady, implacable and determined.

  Lanchard knew then that he was absolutely set on his course of action and that no arguments, reasoned or otherwise, were going to sway him. She could call in her master-at-arms and have him confined to his quarters, of course, but then her career would be over as soon as they reached home port. It would be she who would have to compromise.

  'At least let me have the lifeboats readied in case some sort of emergency arises.That can't do any harm.'

  Rexton considered for a moment. 'Very well. But it must be done unobtrusively.'

  'Naturally,' Lanchard said.'We don't want to alarm the passengers.'

  'Not them,' Rexton corrected her, 'the Nimosians. They mustn't detect any change in our situation or they might interpret it as a sign of weakness.'

  Before Lanchard could respond he continued, 'Now, how are the modifications to that shuttle proceeding? Your engineer said she thought she could shield its systems from the interference. Then you must call for volunteers to take possession of the alien vessel. The crew will understand when you tell them the future of Emindar may be at stake.'

  ***

  The Cirrandaria's port-side upper promenade deck was thronged with passengers looking through its multilaminated and screened observation windows at the alien vessel. Most were human, or at least humanoid, with only a sprinkling of more exotic species. All were too intent to recognise Sam and the Doctor as newcomers as they mingled with them.

  Some sixty degrees to the left of the derelict, and also receiving its share of the passengers' attention, was the irregular speck of light that marked the position of the Nimosian warship. Sam saw that the stars appeared to be turning slowly past the other two ships, even though both were maintaining their relative positions.

  'Are we in orbit about that thing?' Sam wondered, staring at the derelict.

  The Doctor had drawn out a gold hunter pocket watch and was timing their motion.

  'Apparently,' he concluded after a minute, snapping the lid of his watch shut again. 'It must mass at least as much as a small asteroid, which suggests it contains degenerate matter. Stabilised neutronium, perhaps.That might go some way to explain the distortion it's causing in hyperspace.'

  'But why would anybody want to stack a ship full of neutronium?' Sam wondered.

  'Ah, now that's a question for later. Meanwhile, mouth shut and ears open...'

  The air was full of the usual mixture of gossip and rumour - ten per cent reasonable, ninety per cent wildly ill-informed - that permeated all such gatherings, dominated by the voices of those self-opinionated few who always thought they could run things better than the professionals. But gradually, from a score of eavesdropped conversations, they assembled a picture of recent events.

  The Cirrandaria had detected an energy discharge of unknown origins some eight hours earlier. The Captain had announced they were dropping out of hyperspace to investigate, as they were obliged to do by interstellar convention in case a vessel was in distress.They discovered the alien ship, but aborted a close approach when the erratic energy field it radiated began to disrupt the Cirrandaria's systems. At about this time one of the VIP passengers had been seen making his way to the bridge, and it was assumed he was now advising the Captain. Why the alien ship should be worth such attention nobody knew, but there was no shortage of speculation on the possibilities. .

  There had been no reply to multichannel friendship messages or even the emergency signal lamp, so the nature of its crew, if any, was still a mystery.

  The arrival of the Nimosian ship just two hours ago, which had apparently intercepted their report of the discovery of the derelict, had rapidly polarised opinion on board. Apparently Emindar and Nimos had a long history of border skirmishes and minor wars going back over a century, and there was clearly no love lost between them.The Emindian nationals, who made up the bulk of the passenger list, were almost unanimous in their approval of the Captain's firm stand against them, while the smaller percentage of offworld tourists were less happy. They could see no point in risking a violent confrontation over a piece of space flotsam, however large and mysterious it might be, and several had already made representations to the Captain. Reportedly they were less than satisfied with the assurances they had received in return.

  The evident fact that the Nimosians could get no closer to the derelict than they could was viewed with a mixture of relief and surprise. The recent Nimosian gunfire had created a wave of alarm that was only just now dissipating. Few seemed to have any idea what the Nimosians had been firing at, but the die-hards continued to proclaim that if it was intended as an act of intimidation, it was wasted on them.

  Finding they had a section of window to themselves for a moment, Sam said quietly to the Doctor, 'It looks as though it's a standoff. No need for us to charge in to save the day if nobody can get any closer than this.'

  'I hope that eventuality will not arise,' the Doctor said. 'But unfortunately your species are amazingly stubborn creatures. It's the Everest syndrome: it has to be climbed because it's there. An unknown force prevents them from indulging their curiosity, therefore it must be overcome.' He smiled slightly.'Perhaps that's why I like them so much.'

  Sam considered the alien vessel in its slowly drifting frame of stars. 'But is it really dangerous? Maybe it's just an old wreck with degenerating power cells inside shorting out and creating the disturbance.' 'And how do you account for the blurring of half the ship?'

  'Some sort of hyperdrive motor accident? Maybe that's why the crew abandoned it.'

 
The Doctor's eyes followed the direction of her own, as though trying to penetrate the hull of the vessel by the sheer intensity of his gaze. 'Possibly.

  But I have a... boding about it.'

  'Pardon?'

  'An ominous presentiment. I feel I've seen it before somewhere, yet I know I haven't.'

  Sam gasped theatrically. 'You mean you've got a premonition of impending doom? Déjà vu and stuff like that?'

  'If you like.'

  A shiver ran through Sam, despite her jovial air. 'Well, maybe they'll get bored and give up after a few days. We can have a bit of a holiday here until they leave, then tackle it at our own speed.' She looked around her with approval at the long broad sweep of the promenade. 'I could enjoy myself in a place like this. What do you think?'

  The Doctor did not reply, apparently lost in thought.

  There was a denser swirl of onlookers halfway along the promenade. As the Doctor and Sam drew closer it became evident that a man and woman, clearly celebrities of some sort, were at the centre of it. Some of the crowd were asking for their autographs.

  The man, Sam acknowledged as she caught her first proper sight of him past other people's heads, really was tall, dark and handsome. He had a strong jaw, deep, brown eyes, a wide sensuous mouth and boldly drawn eyebrows. He was smiling and chatting to those around him in a very easy manner, suggesting familiarity with being the centre of attention.

  He knows exactly how impressive he looks, Sam thought, and carries himself accordingly.

  His companion was blonde and equally attractive, if less selfconsciously so.

  She seemed intent on using the complex and expensive-looking camera slung around her neck, and was busy taking pictures of both the alien ship and occasionally the crowd around her. They'd already seen several other passengers doing the same thing, but there was something more fluent and assured in her actions that distinguished the professional from the amateur.