Heart of Stone / Death Riders

by BBC

  ‘Well done, lad,’ he said.

  Feeling his luck must be on the turn, Rory had another go at hooking a not-a-duck. But with as little success as the first time. They still had ten minutes to wait for the Doctor, so Amy suggested they find somewhere that was selling hot drinks. They both recalled seeing a tent serving tea and cake, but neither of them could remember exactly where it was.

  It took them almost the whole ten minutes to get back to where they’d seen the tent.

  ‘He’ll be late,’ Amy said. ‘Let’s get tea anyway.’

  ‘Or we could wait, in case he isn’t late,’ Rory suggested.

  ‘He’s always late,’ Amy said.

  ‘Who is?’ the Doctor asked, arriving beside them.

  ‘Nothing,’ Amy said quickly, glaring at Rory to keep him quiet. ‘So,’ she went on, ‘what have you found out?’

  ‘Lots.’ The Doctor grinned, evidently pleased with himself. ‘Lots and lots. Did you win a – ’ He broke off, as Rory held out his coconut, grin freezing. ‘Ah.’

  ‘That surprised you, didn’t it?’ Rory asked him.

  ‘Er, well, yes it did. I have to admit I am surprised. You think that’s a coconut, don’t you?’

  ‘It is a coconut,’ Amy said.

  ‘Course it is.’ The Doctor nodded, just too enthusiastically. ‘A coconut. Just don’t eat it, that’s all. Or break it open. Whatever you do, don’t break it open.’

  ‘Why not?’ Amy asked.

  Rory was examining the coconut cautiously, weighing it in his hand. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Well, I could be wrong,’ the Doctor admitted, ‘but that does look suspiciously like the egg of a wilderbird from Deuteronomy Nine. Nasty things, wilderbirds. They’re like birds. Only, um, wilder. If you feel it sort of vibrating, put it down ever so carefully and then run like hell.’

  Rory held the ‘coconut’ at arm’s length. ‘You are kidding me.’

  The Doctor gently lifted the coconut from Rory’s palm. He tossed it high in the air and caught it again. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m kidding you. It’s a coconut.’ He handed it back to a relieved Rory. ‘Well, probably,’ he added. ‘Anyone fancy a cuppa? I’m parched and they do cake as well.’

  Over tea and cake – which was green with purple bits in it – the Doctor explained what he had learned from chatting to some of the fairground visitors and stall holders.

  ‘We’re on a mining asteroid called Stanalan,’ he said, through a mouthful of green-bitty cake. ‘Sorry, did that get you?’ He brushed damp crumbs off Amy’s shoulder. ‘Like I thought, it’s in the Torajii system.’

  ‘That’s not what you said,’ Amy told him.

  The Doctor ignored her. ‘Automated mining mostly, and most of the original miners have stayed on and become colonists. Obviously they still have to do some digging by hand as well as maintaining the equipment and doing the paperwork. Robots never do admin, which is a shame as that would really be a help.’

  ‘So these people actually live down here?’ Rory asked.

  The Doctor nodded, then took a slurp of tea. ‘Quite a little community. There’s a hospital, a school, little shops and even a local orchestra. Well, I guess there’s not a lot to do in the damp, dark underground – they live in worked-out tunnels. So they’re pretty chuffed that the Galactic Fair has come to town.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Amy said.

  A large grey-haired woman in a dark uniform with a white pinafore dress busied herself clearing away Amy and Rory’s tea things. The Doctor lifted his cup so she could wipe the table underneath.

  ‘As well as Mad Milly the Fortune-Teller,’ he said, ‘there’s Clueless the Clown, carousels, candyfloss, coconuts and lots of other things beginning with the letter ‘C’. And someone called Garvo and his Dancing Drexxon, whatever that is … Oh yes, they’ve got it all. We arrived at just the right time.’

  ‘And tea,’ the woman wiping the table pointed out. ‘Best tea in the sector.’

  The Doctor raised his cup in salute. ‘Best tea in the galaxy,’ he assured her. ‘Believe me, I know about tea. And galaxies.’

  ‘And tomorrow,’ the woman added, ‘they should have the Death Ride finished.’

  ‘Death Ride?’ Rory asked, his eyes widening slightly.

  ‘I think we’ve probably been closer to death than a fairground ride will take us,’ Amy told him.

  The woman laughed. ‘Don’t you believe it.’ She shook her head in the manner of someone who knows something that everyone else can’t even begin to suspect. Then she hurried away. Still laughing.

  ‘That’s encouraging,’ Amy said brightly.

  ‘Don’t think I fancy a Death Ride,’ Rory decided.

  The Doctor was watching the woman as she cleared another table. ‘Death Ride,’ he said, enjoying the words and rolling them round his mouth. ‘I am going to have to try that!’

  Amy and Rory agreed that they would find out more about the Death Ride, and maybe even take a look at it. They did not agree, despite the Doctor’s enthusiastic pleas, to have a go. Not before they knew more.

  ‘Fair play,’ the Doctor decided eventually. ‘But I bet when you see it, you’ll love it.’

  As they left the tea tent, Amy stopped. She could hear music. It wasn’t the harsh tones of the electric organ music that accompanied the merry-go-round. It was a haunting tune. The notes lingered sadly. The melody seemed to drift through the cavern from all directions.

  ‘Listen – where’s it coming from?’ Amy wondered.

  The Doctor licked his finger and held it up as if testing the air. ‘This way,’ he decided.

  ‘Or that way,’ Rory suggested.

  But Amy was already heading in a different direction from either of their suggestions. Sure enough, the music grew louder. She could see a little crowd of people gathered round one of the smaller tents. Unlike the other audiences, who cheered and laughed and talked and booed good-naturedly, these people were completely silent. Enthralled by the music.

  The people at the back of the group were drifting away, having seen and heard enough. They nodded to each other, murmuring in quiet admiration.

  Amy found herself moving to the front of the crowd as the music came to a melancholy end. The two people in front of her moved aside. Amy pushed through to see what was attracting all the attention, what was making the unique, haunting music.

  A furry mass of claws and teeth reared up. Amy gasped in surprise and fear as the creature hissed angrily, its yellow eyes fixed unerringly on her.

  CHAPTER 4

  DANCE OF THE DREXXON

  The snarl of the creature turned into something that sounded more like giggling. Rather than rearing up to attack, Amy realised it was hopping from one furry foot to the other – dancing a sort of jig.

  The music came from a mouth organ played by a young man standing a short way behind the furry creature. A leash was tied round the man’s wrist, the other end attached to the furry animal’s own thin wrist. The young man’s features were pale, contrasting with his coal-black hair. His clothes were tattered and frayed, old and grubby. His appearance seemed to suit the sad tune he was playing.

  And the creature – which was only about a metre tall and covered in reddish-brown fur – hopped and danced to the rhythm and the mood of the man’s playing.

  ‘Raggedy musician,’ the Doctor murmured in Amy’s ear. ‘And his performing … thing.’

  ‘What is it?’ Rory asked, squeezing through the crowd to join them. ‘The thing?’

  ‘Dunno,’ the Doctor admitted. ‘Not a monkey, though there’s some similarity. Not seen one of those before.’

  The music warbled to an end. The dancing furry creature that looked a bit like a monkey, but wasn’t, stopped dancing. Its eyes scanned the people as some of them dropped coins into a carefully placed bucket and others just moved away. The man lowered his mouth organ. For a moment his face was a blank mask, as if he was still caught up in the other-world of his music. Then he switched on a smile a
nd bowed theatrically.

  ‘Thank you, thank you.’ The man picked up the bucket and shook it, making the coins inside jingle and jangle. He held it out and a few more people dropped coins into it.

  ‘Paying for slavery,’ Amy said, backing away.

  ‘You what?’ Rory asked.

  ‘That poor thing, whatever it is. Look – he has to keep it on a lead to stop it escaping. It’s like performing apes or bears. It shouldn’t be allowed.’

  Rory shrugged. ‘Can’t see the problem. The thing seems happy enough, and well fed. It’s not like the guy’s stuck a ring through its nose or chains round its legs. How’s it different from taking a dog for a walk?’

  ‘Making it perform. It’s shameful. Probably trained it on hot coals or something. What do you think Doc– ’

  But the Doctor was no longer standing beside them. Amy looked round, and saw that he was talking excitedly to the musician.

  ‘I saw your face,’ the musician said as Amy strode up to him. ‘I’m sorry if my Drexxon frightened you.’ The furry creature snuggled against the man’s leg, and he bent to ruffle its fur affectionately.

  ‘Frightened?’ Amy said, pursing her lips and shaking her head. ‘I wasn’t frightened. Just … a bit startled.’ She turned to Rory for support – in time to see him pointing at her and mouthing, ‘Frightened.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Rory said quickly.

  ‘All friends now,’ the Doctor announced, clapping his hands together. ‘This is Garvo.’ He pointed to the musician. ‘And this Drexxon you’ve already met, when he didn’t frighten you, not even a teensy-weensy bit. I don’t think he has a name as such, so just call him Drexxon.’

  ‘Hi,’ Amy said, forcing a smile.

  The Drexxon made the giggling noise again, sharp little teeth clacking together. It wrapped its warm furry arms round Amy’s legs and purred like a cat.

  ‘So, if we’re all friends having such a jolly time –’ Amy began.

  ‘Here we go,’ Rory murmured, shuffling in embarrassment.

  ‘How come,’ Amy went on, ‘your little friend here is on a lead?’

  If Garvo was surprised or put out by the question, he didn’t show it. His expression didn’t change from the fixed smile. ‘It’s not to keep him from running off or anything, and it’s not uncomfortable. It’s a link between us. It … helps.’ He shrugged as if unsure what else to say.

  ‘Helps? How can tying him to you help?’

  ‘Well, I’m tied to him as well. We perform as a team. More than that – he feels the music I play on my harmonica.’ He showed them the mouth organ. ‘And I play music that responds to his reaction to it. The lead is like the musical link between us. As I said, it helps. It helps me to judge how he’s dancing, from the way the lead moves while I’m playing. I can’t always see exactly what he’s up to, or predict what he’ll do next. But I get signals, clues along the lead.’

  ‘And can Drexxon here feel your music the same way?’ the Doctor asked. He paused to kneel down and tickle the creature. ‘Along the lead?’

  ‘He can,’ Garvo said. ‘Obviously he can’t talk, but he seems to be able to tell what notes are coming, the rhythm, from the way my hand moves while playing. He can feel that down the lead. We’ve been together for a long time. And he’s a very sensitive little soul.’

  ‘So I see,’ Rory commented.

  Drexxon was lying on his back now and letting the Doctor tickle his tummy.

  ‘You have a go, Amy,’ the Doctor suggested. ‘Go on – he won’t bite. Probably.’

  Certainly the creature seemed happy enough, Amy thought. Although probably the only way to be sure would be to take him off the lead and see if he ran off. She rubbed her hand over Drexxon’s warm tummy and was rewarded with more of the purring and giggling.

  ‘Happy now?’ Rory asked as Amy straightened up again.

  ‘I was wrong,’ she admitted. ‘You happy now?’

  ‘Wrong?’ Rory echoed in mock surprise.

  ‘OK, I was wrong about the lead and I was wrong to be frightened of him. A bit frightened of him. More startled than frightened, in fact. But I’ve tickled his tummy now, so I know that Drexxon is really a pussycat. All right?’

  Rory frowned. ‘Really?’ He leaned closer, talking quietly. ‘A pussycat? You mean, like dressed up – in a costume or something?’

  Amy stared at him. ‘Not a real pussycat, you dozy. He’s a space-monkey creature-thing. I mean, he’s quiet and tame and friendly. Like a pussycat.’

  Rory nodded slowly. ‘I knew that.’

  ‘Course you did.’

  Something had changed at the fair. It took Amy a few moments to work out what it was.

  ‘Why’s everything suddenly so quiet?’ she whispered to the Doctor.

  ‘Search me,’ he whispered back. ‘Well, not literally search me, obviously.’ He buttoned his jacket, as if to make sure she didn’t actually search him.

  ‘Everyone’s heading that way,’ Rory pointed out.

  The people were all moving towards one side of the vast cavern. They were no longer laughing and talking excitedly, but looked sad and were moving slowly.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Rory asked Garvo. ‘New shift starting or something?’

  Garvo sighed. Even Drexxon looked a little downcast. ‘It’s time for the procession. A sad time. I’ll stay here, and keep Drexxon out of the way. But most of the fair people will attend, as a mark of respect. You should go.’

  ‘Yes, we should,’ the Doctor told him. ‘Come on,’ he said to Amy and Rory.

  ‘But what’s going on, what’s it all about?’ Amy asked.

  ‘No idea. But whatever it is, we should show respect – I got that much.’

  They followed the last few people past the silent stalls and attractions. The merry-go-round horses stood still, silent and glassy-eyed. On the other side of the crowd, more music started. It was as sad as Garvo’s harmonica, but bigger and bolder – played by a whole orchestra.

  The Doctor found them a spot on the small stage used by the jugglers. From here they could see over the heads of most of the people. The orchestra was made up of about thirty people – each wearing a plain black tabard over the top of their everyday overalls. There were violins, trumpets and several brass instruments that Amy didn’t recognise. At the back of the orchestra was a small floating platform that carried a harpist, a keyboard player and a drummer. Amy was surprised how many of the musicians were children. A small man dressed entirely in black conducted them, his face a mask of sadness.

  Behind the orchestra four more men, all standing tall and proud but as sad-faced as the conductor, walked slowly and stiffly out of a wide tunnel and into the cavern. It took Amy a few moments to see that they were carrying something on their shoulders.

  It took her a few moments more to realise that it was a coffin.

  The pall-bearers carried the coffin past the orchestra and the assembled crowd, and into another, narrower tunnel. The orchestra continued to play the sad music, the violins sounding like someone weeping. Some of the people from the crowd followed the coffin down the tunnel. Amy could see that most of them wore black armbands.

  The rest of the people started to move away, heads bowed. Solemn, silent and sad.

  ‘I wonder who died,’ Rory whispered.

  ‘Someone who had a lot of friends,’ Amy whispered back.

  ‘In a community like this, everyone knows everyone else,’ the Doctor said. ‘So that’s not the most important question.’

  ‘Then what is?’ Amy asked.

  There was as much sadness in the Doctor’s eyes as he answered as in anyone else’s there. ‘Why did they die?’

  CHAPTER 5

  AFTER THE FUNERAL

  The orchestra continued to play long after the funeral procession had gone. The Doctor, Amy and Rory sat on the edge of the stage and listened. The music was never really uplifting, but it became less solemn and sad.

  Finally, after what seemed an age and when Amy was getting beyond
fidgety and about to get up and leave, they drew to a close. Several of the children ran off into the fairground, carrying their trumpets and violins and other instruments with them.

  The Doctor waved to a couple of boys as they ran past. ‘That was terrific!’ he called.

  They stopped and thanked him.

  ‘Ain’t seen you round here before, Mister,’ one of the boys said. He was about eleven years old with spiked up dark hair and a cheeky grin. ‘You with the Galactic Fair?’

  ‘No, just visiting. I’m the Doctor, and these are my friends, Amy and Rory.’

  The boy was called Harby and his friend – fair-haired and slightly younger – was Vosh. Harby had a violin with him, in a dark case. Vosh played a trumpet that looked nearly as big as he was.

  ‘So, where you from then?’ Vosh asked.

  ‘All over,’ the Doctor told him. ‘I’m the Everywhere Man. You play very well,’ he went on. ‘Whoever it was that’s … passed away would have appreciated it.’

  ‘The dead guy in the coffin you mean?’ Harby said.

  ‘I was kind of trying to avoid being so blunt.’

  ‘It’s all right.’

  ‘So, who was he? Was he very old?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Rodge. Yeah, he was quite old.’ Harby considered. ‘About the same age as you,’ he said, pointing at Rory.

  ‘That is old,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘Old, old, old. If not even older. But not old enough for natural causes. Not old age natural causes. So how did he die?’

  Harby shrugged.

  ‘They wouldn’t let us see,’ Vosh told them. He was obviously disappointed. ‘But,’ he went on with gathering enthusiasm, ‘my mate Benvo says he was all torn to pieces. Some sort of accident. Mum says that’s why Off-Limits is off-limits.’

  The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. ‘Your mum sounds very wise.’

  ‘You enjoying the funfair?’ Rory asked brightly.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Vosh said. ‘The hook-a-ducklan is great. I’ve won a prize every time.’

  Rory blinked and his smile became slightly fixed. ‘Really?’