The Slitheen Excursion

by Simon Guerrier

  ‘I’m fine, too,’ June cut in.

  The Doctor beamed. ‘Good for you.’

  ‘We’re in this together, aren’t we?’ she said, taking his arm.

  ‘Well I’m going to have both,’ said Deukalion sniffily.

  ‘You’re not allowed both,’ said the man in the armour.

  ‘But they’ve not got weapons, so it evens out,’ said Deukalion.

  ‘He’s right,’ said the Doctor. ‘Not that it’s going to do him any good. But, on average, you give him both and we’ve still got less than one weapon each.’

  The man in the armour considered, then sighed, shaking his head. Deukalion was given a long, bronze sword and a spindly, wobbling spear. He could barely lift either of them, so he dragged them behind him as he followed the Doctor and June out into the light.

  They knew the audience had seen them by the sudden explosion of noise. Cheering, applauding, the slap of tentacle and flesh against the floor and balustrade. June blinked in the sunlight, glancing round at the packed balconies. Aliens even sat on the tiled roof to get a better view. She had been to football matches once or twice, had heard the same roar of the crowd. They were baying for her blood.

  The Doctor led her and Deukalion out to the centre of the courtyard where a tall Slitheen was standing. June recognised Cosmo’s brother Hisk, sporting a top hat and glittering bow tie.

  ‘That’s it, that’s it,’ Hisk slurred appreciatively. ‘Come and say a few words for our dear viewers.’

  He poked a silver prong of a microphone under the Doctor’s nose. The Doctor gazed round at the aliens, milking the moment. Then he leant into the microphone. ‘You should all be ashamed of yourselves,’ he said.

  The aliens laughed delightedly, some of them even applauded.

  ‘Dear me, you’re a natural,’ said Hisk. ‘We like a bit of spirit. But tell me, competitor, what fighting style can we expect to see?’

  ‘We’re not going to fight,’ said the Doctor simply. Several of the audience laughed at this, but most shuffled uncomfortably in their seats.

  ‘Oh, very good,’ crowed Hisk, though he also looked uncomfortable. He pointed the microphone at the ground as he whispered, ‘You know what we’ll do to your kingdom if you don’t play along?’

  ‘I don’t have a kingdom,’ said the Doctor. ‘And we’re not going to play your game.’

  The huge Slitheen blinked at him. For a moment June thought Hisk might just strangle the Doctor there and then. But he lifted the microphone and giggled into it. ‘Oh, we’ve got a feisty one here, ladies and gentlemen. He’s saying he’s not going to fight! He’s going to be a pacifist in the ring!’

  The audience took the bait and began to laugh.

  ‘I’m giving you one chance,’ the Doctor told Hisk. ‘Let us go now, stop all this. Or I will have to stop you.’

  Hisk looked him up at down. ‘You?’ it said.

  ‘Me,’ said the Doctor. And even June felt scared by the way he said it.

  The Slitheen snorted, though he was obviously disturbed. He backed away from the Doctor. ‘The competitor says this is my last chance,’ he told the crowd. ‘But let’s see what he makes of tonight’s first challenger . . .’ He hurried through a gate which closed behind him, the crowd applauding and cheering.

  Across the courtyard, another gate slowly opened. June could hear something roaring and grunting behind it, something huge and angry. Then a huge black bull barrelled out towards them.

  The bull was at least as tall as she was, maybe the size of a minivan. Long, sharp horns curled from either side of its enormous head. Beady eyes fixed on June and the others. It scraped its front hoof in the sand, lowering its head, ready to charge. The crowd roared its approval.

  ‘I’m ready,’ said Deukalion, coming forward with his spear. ‘You two keep back.’

  ‘Deukalion,’ said the Doctor. ‘We won’t win by fighting. We just become part of their game.’

  ‘We’ve got to do something,’ June told him. ‘That thing’s enormous!’

  ‘And stupid,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘And angry,’ said Deukalion. ‘It’s coming!’

  The bull had started to trot towards them, slowly picking up speed. The Doctor stood his ground. June and Deukalion sank back behind him, utterly terrified. The bull brayed a low, guttural challenge as it began to run. The Doctor smacked his lips.

  ‘You’re not convincing anyone,’ he said.

  ‘Doctor!’ said June.

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I’ve thought of something. Well, to be honest, you did.’ And he started running headlong at the bull.

  June gaped in horror. The Doctor raised his hands above his head and started shouting. The crowd watching were on their feet, delighted. June couldn’t breathe. The huge blocky shape of the bull charged down on the Doctor and he kept sprinting towards it. The bull lowered its head, its huge horns outstretched . . .

  And the Doctor grabbed them. The bull lifted its head, and the Doctor leapt, somersaulting over the bull’s back and landing neatly in the sand.

  ‘Olé!’ he shouted.

  And the crowd went absolutely mad, on their feet applauding. June and Deukalion were applauding too.

  The bull skidded to a stop and looked round, confused. It saw the Doctor, bowing gracefully to his audience, and grunted with annoyance. Head down, horns pointed right at him, it began to run.

  The Doctor didn’t see it, too busy with taking the applause. June took a step forward, ready to cry out. But then she saw the Doctor hesitate. The bull barrelled towards him and, at the last minute, the Doctor put his arms back, caught the horns again and flipped backwards over its back, managing two complete twists in the air before he landed on his feet.

  The audience were ecstatic. Again the bull skidded round and this time the Doctor flipped over its back one-handed. ‘Come on!’ he shouted at the bull. ‘That one was too easy!’

  The bull stopped, panting, sweat glistening in its thick black fur. Up in the balconies, aliens gabbled excitedly and exchanged slips of paper. Against all the odds, the Doctor had survived more than ninety seconds. Bulbs flashed as the tourists took pictures.

  The bull remained perfectly still, head low, its breathing ragged. Slowly, the Doctor began to walk towards it. He spoke gently to it, too quietly for June to hear the words. But she saw the bull take a step gingerly forward. The Doctor reached a hand out and began to stroke the bull’s shaggy forehead. The bull responded, pressing its face against his side.

  ‘Awww,’ said a large part of the crowd.

  The Doctor looked round to grin at them as he stroked the bull behind the ears.

  ‘Um,’ said Deukalion, and he dropped the spear so it slapped into the sand.

  ‘Yeah,’ said June. ‘He’s good.’

  A spattering of applause broke out from in amongst the crowd. The sound grew, more and more aliens picking it up. Soon, the Doctor and the tamed beast had earned a standing ovation. And the squawking fury of Hisk.

  The Slitheen charged out into the sandy courtyard waving an angry claw. ‘This just isn’t on,’ he yelled at the Doctor. ‘It’s against all the rules. We’re contractually obliged to show a fatality. It’s either you or this stupid cow!’

  The Doctor turned slowly. ‘You’re making a mistake,’ he called to him.

  ‘Mistake?’ Hisk exploded. ‘Mistake?’ He was almost on them now. ‘I’ve got to have a death. It’s what the audience expects!’

  His voice was shrill, his claws up in the air as he emphasised the point. The bull chose its moment and charged.

  ‘No, wait!’ cried the Doctor as the bull pushed past him.

  June saw him fall back, rolling nimbly out of the way of the hooves. Hisk cried out, tried to get his claws down and round in time. But too late! The audience gasped as the bull smashed into him.

  June turned quickly away.

  TWELVE

  THEY WERE PUT back into the same cell as before. Deukalion punched the wall again, then slipp
ed his bruised knuckled under his armpit.

  ‘Well, you started well,’ said June to the Doctor who sat dolefully in one corner.

  ‘I thought I could show them a better way,’ said the Doctor. ‘But the Slitheen won’t forgive me for killing one of their own.’

  ‘So we’re just on to the next level,’ said June.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said the Doctor. ‘Or they’ll just take us out of the game. I’m sorry, June. I miscalculated.’

  ‘You were brilliant out there,’ she told him.

  He smiled. ‘Yes, I suppose I was.’ But the darkness still haunted his eyes.

  Eventually Cosmo came to see them. The young Slitheen hung his head sadly. His face looked bruised dark green.

  ‘The family is very upset with you,’ he snivelled. ‘We all felt those horns.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the Doctor. ‘I really am. I tried to warn him.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Cosmo said. ‘Not very hard. Let’s just hope the insurance pays out. He had a partner and eggs.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the Doctor again. ‘What are you going to do with us?’

  Cosmos shifted uncomfortably. ‘I know what I’d like to do,’ he said. ‘It’s been days since I hunted anything. But Mamps says that we have to acknowledge your appeal.’

  ‘I haven’t appealed,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘No, your appeal,’ said Cosmo. ‘Your showbiz style and panache. The customers are always right.’

  ‘You mean your tourists liked the show?’ asked June.

  ‘They loved it,’ said Cosmo sadly. ‘You do everything you can for these people, literally slave day and night. And what really makes them happy? One of your brothers getting skewered!’

  ‘It’s not very grateful, is it?’ said June.

  ‘No,’ said Cosmo. ‘It’s not. Anyway. They want you at the banquet tonight.’

  ‘A banquet?’ asked Deukalion, suddenly perking up. ‘In the Doctor’s honour?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Cosmo. ‘We have a banquet every night. But some of our guests want to see you. Mamps hopes it will shut them up if we stick you on one of the tables.’

  ‘What do you expect me to tell them?’ asked the Doctor.

  ‘Will there be wine?’ asked Deukalion.

  ‘You’ll behave yourself,’ Cosmo warned the Doctor. ‘That’s all. Or I’ll skewer both your friends.’

  The banquet consisted of four rows of long tables crowded with all kinds of what June assumed to be food. Alien tourists chattered and bickered and shoved past each other to reach the various delicacies, loaded high on their plates. They turned as June, the Doctor and Deukalion were led in by Cosmo. Some applauded, some catcalled, some laughed. Because they’d turned, she could see what they’d been eating. The huge, severed head of a bull stared blindly from the end of the table. June felt her stomach heave.

  Cosmo led them to a separate, small table on which were strewn a few meagre scraps of cooked meat. There were similar scraps all over the floor, as June’s bare feet soon discovered. The Doctor suggested that they might want a proper meal, and Cosmo muttered that he’d see what was available.

  As soon as he was gone, aliens began to crowd their little table. They wanted pictures or autographs or to ask questions. June kept being asked how long she’d been married to the Doctor. Bulbs flashed up close, blinding her, and she found herself signing her name across holograms of her own startled face.

  The Doctor chattered happily to the queuing aliens. ‘They’re fascinated by humanity,’ he told June. ‘You’re all so exotic and strange. I think this lot could help us change things around here.’

  June didn’t like the attention – she’d never understood the celebrity thing. At school, she had felt awkward and tongue-tied just having to speak in front of her classmates. But the Doctor’s words made her try her best, for the sake of all the humans living under the Slitheen. It wasn’t exactly easy.

  One alien just wanted to rub its mandibles over the back of her hand. She withdrew quickly, with a squeak of horror. The Doctor leant into her ear.

  ‘He’s just showing subservience,’ he explained. ‘The Aru are a bit touchy-feely.’

  June sighed and extended her arm. The Aru leaned forward and shook its chins at her. When it had finished, her wrist felt warm and waxy, but didn’t seem to be harmed. ‘Thank you,’ she told the Aru, who skipped happily away, back to its friends.

  She listened in to the Doctor, holding court. The aliens had plenty of questions – how humanity had come from their current primitive state to conquer so much of space, whether they were right to clear the worlds of Pif, or what their role had been in the outbreak of the Platonic War. Smiling the whole time, the Doctor feinted and parried, dodging what were evidently controversial topics. June realised with a start that humanity had a lot to answer for in the future. These people were thrilled and tantalised by contact with humans, but also a little terrified.

  Once they’d eaten, Mamps took to the stage to explain the itinerary for the next day. The Slitheen would be attending to some personal business first thing – the funeral of poor Hisk – but they’d be back mid-morning to lead an excursion to the ruined Osiran spaceport. ‘Doctor Romain has prepared handouts and a lecture,’ said Mamps, indicating a tall, lithe creature with dreadlocks at the head of one of the tables. ‘She’s promised to keep it short.’

  Then the banquet was over. The tables were cleared around them and a disco was set up. June tried to stay close to the Doctor, but aliens clustered around him, still effervescent with questions. Instead she tried to find Deukalion again, assuming he’d be at the bar.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said a voice behind her. She turned to see the huge merman who’d approached her earlier that day. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to alarm you.’

  June realised her mouth was hanging open. The merman wore a shawl of thin black material that only emphasised his muscles. He slithered towards her on his fishy tail.

  ‘I’m Cecrops,’ he said. ‘From the Collective of Mulch.’

  ‘I’m June,’ she said. ‘From Birmingham, at the moment.’

  ‘I tried to speak to you earlier,’ said Cecrops. ‘I was hoping for your perspective.’

  ‘Oh,’ said June. ‘OK. What did you want to know?’

  ‘I’m not sure I want to know anything,’ said Cecrops as if it were a clever joke. ‘I just want to hear it from you. As a native, so to speak. Your testimony should be a part of the discourse.’

  She stared at him. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said.

  ‘Right,’ he said, smiling sheepishly. ‘Well, I guess it’s the whole debate about the impact we’re having by coming here. I thought you’d have your own view.’

  ‘Do you mean like eco-tourism?’ asked June. Either the TARDIS couldn’t quite translate his words properly or he was just talking nonsense.

  ‘Yeah, that sort of thing,’ he said. ‘And also, I just really like human beings. You know?’

  She didn’t know quite how to answer that. He seemed desperately keen for her to like him. And he was really very good-looking, even with the fishy tail. But he was one of those boys who saw her as the embodiment of some ideal rather than a person in herself. She was a cause for him to champion, not a girl who he might buy a drink.

  ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I’m sort of with this bloke.’ She looked round for the Doctor. He still stood surrounded by aliens, but Mamps had her long arm tightly around him, her golden nose stud sparkling. June made to hurry over to them but Cecrops grabbed her arm.

  ‘I don’t take part in the hunts,’ he told her. ‘And I’m a vegan.’

  June gasped in horror at him. She must have looked so appalled that he let her go. She twisted away from him, running for the Doctor, stood there with the Slitheen. Their enormous claws loomed at her as she approached. She wanted to be sick. It hadn’t occurred to her that humans might be on the menu. If the Doctor had lost to the bull that afternoon, would this banquet have included him? The odd lo
oks the aliens had given her all through dinner suddenly made sense. She reached the Doctor, head spinning.

  ‘They kill us!’ she said. ‘They’re killing us.’

  Mamps leaned into her. ‘Not right at this moment, I think you’ll agree.’ The alien tourists squawked with amusement.

  June found the Doctor had taken her hands in his. She looked up into his dark eyes and immediately she felt better. He smiled, a look that said ‘I know’ and ‘I’m going to put this right.’

  He turned to face Mamps. ‘But you are killing us,’ he said. ‘That’s what the games are about.’

  Mamps wavered for a moment. She glanced at the alien tourists. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘You say that now. But just like everyone else, you volunteered to compete.’ She bent her head down to conspire with one of the tourists. ‘Honestly. They say it’s for the honour of their tribes. It’s really quite delicious!’

  June wanted to punch her, to do something stupid and futile, but the Doctor held on to her hand.

  ‘I suppose,’ he said, ‘you tell them we don’t feel pain like you do.’

  Mamps swung round to face him. ‘How did you—’ she began. And then she remembered the eyes watching her and broke into a smile.

  ‘He’s got ideas about what we can do to improve the lot of the humans in our care,’ she gurgled. ‘And we at Slitheen Excursions are very keen to hear his point of view. I know many of you have concerns about the environmental footprint our tours leave behind them. Honestly, we share those concerns. And that’s why the Doctor’s going to be our ambassador. We’ll show him everything he asks to see. And he can then advise us on where we can improve.’

  The aliens applauded. Deukalion reached out to hand June a wide-necked goblet of wine, a kylix like she’d seen in museums. Cecrops slithered up beside her and joined in the applause. June felt trapped, confused. Had the Doctor just talked his way into the Slitheen’s operation? Were they really asking him to advise them?

  She saw Mamps lean back to whisper to Leeb, the last of Cosmo’s siblings. Leeb snickered and hurried away. Mamps turned back to gaze at the Doctor with dark and greedy eyes.

  The Doctor came over to June and Deukalion. ‘Well,’ he said loudly, ‘it’s all going a lot better than we could have expected. I’m going to pop over to the island where they’ve got whatever they’re using to bring people here from the future. You’re going to be their guests here while I’m gone.’