by Nick Walters
‘Anything else?’ His voice was barely audible above the hiss and rush of the rain.
‘They live to hunt, they have a highly developed sense of smell,’ she shrugged, the movement jerky with fear. ‘I’ve not studied them in depth and don’t particularly want to.’
‘They can’t hunt only humanoids,’ said the Doctor, looking down at himself. ‘Not much meat on us, for a start.’
‘They’re sadists - they enjoy the looks of terror on people’s faces.’ Aline imagined Seryn and Athon cowering before a snarling Valethske, and then wished she hadn’t. ‘They probably hunt herd animals for meat on their homeworld, I don’t know. I’m only going by what the stories say and the stories say they hunt and kill – us.’
The Doctor’s face was in shadow, Aline could just make out his furrowed brows. Just make out his words, framed in a tense outrush of breath. ‘Oh Peri, I’m sorry.’
He regarded the shining curtain of water at the cave entrance. When he spoke his voice had regained some of its breathless vivacity. ‘ “If I were called in to construct a religion, I should make use of water.” ‘
Aline frowned. ‘Pardon?’
The Doctor turned to her. ‘Be thankful for the rain.
Hopefully it’ll mask our scent. We’ll wait here until we can be absolutely sure they’ve gone.’
His blind optimism was beginning to get to her. ‘Or until they find us and kill us.’
‘Shh!’ admonished the Doctor. He leaned closer to her again.
‘We’ll wait until they’ve gone, then go back to the TARDIS. I may need your help and I need to know that I can rely on you.’
It had been a while since anyone had needed her. Aline didn’t appreciate the pressure and looked away. ‘I’m afraid you can’t.’
His voice was a hot breath in her ear. ‘Why not? You’re a xenologist, one of the best in your field. I’ve heard tales of you braving situations that would warp the mind of a less well-trained individual.’
He was intruding again, and this time Aline gave in. Why not tell him? They were going to die soon anyway, so what did it matter? Drawing the Doctor’s coat around her, she huddled into herself. That’s just what happened to me. I encountered something no amount of training could ever have prepared anyone for. It had a rather drastic effect on me. It drove me insane. But I’m all right now - as long as I avoid anything alien.’ She smiled without humour, wanting to get this confession over with and get back to waiting to be killed.
‘Well, I’m an alien and you seem to be getting on fine with me,’ maid the Doctor.
‘But you look human,’ said Aline, closing her eyes, ashamed to look at him. ‘That’s the worst thing. Since the Encounter I’ve not been able to face the alien. Anything varying from human-basic sends me into shock.’ She opened her eyes to see the Doctor’s face a mask of concern and pity. ‘I’ve turned from a xenologist into a xenophobe.’
The Doctor reached out and grasped both her hands in his.
‘Your reactions are beyond your control, you can’t help it.’
‘I know,’ said Aline. ‘And I’m getting better, or so my therapist says. At least I’m off the medication now.’
‘Now I understand the Eknuri assignment,’ said the Doctor.
‘Studying a humanoid species is your way of getting back in the swing of things, hmm?’
‘Right’ Aline nodded. And bagging a Time Lord into the bargain. ‘But I didn’t bank on an alien attack. Not here, not now.’
‘Quite.’ His hand brushed her knee. ‘Quiet.’
Aline followed the line of his gaze, and had to stifle a scream. There was a dark shape in the rain beyond the cave entrance.
Veek ignored the insistent bleeping of her comm-unit, scanning the cave-mouths through the sheen of rain, Flayoun at her side. The rain was heavy, heavier than anything she’d known on her homeworld. Somehow, it seemed unnatural, forced.
As if the Gods themselves were trying to drown her.
Snarling at her lapse into superstition, Veek switched off her comm-unit and moved towards the entrance of the nearest cave.
From the echo of the rainfall she could tell it was deep, maybe going back fifteen, twenty metres. The sort of place panicking prey would hide, not thinking that they were walking into a trap. She smiled, licking rainwater from her lips.
A hand on her shoulder. She turned, irritated at the distraction.
Flayoun shook his head, sending droplets of water flying off in a rainbow arc. She saw he’d answered the incoming signal, and growled in irritation.
‘The Vale Commander orders our immediate return to the ship.’
‘Tell him we’re about to snare more fresh prey,’ said Veek.
Beyond Flayoun she could see the skirmisher settling down on the beach, the hatch opening. Fools, so impatient to return to the long sleep. So dedicated to the Great Mission. Had they forgotten what it was like to hunt, what it meant to be Valethske?
Flayoun had already taken a few steps towards the skirmisher. Loyalty and dedication to the cause, and fear of what the Vale Commander would do if he caused any delay, had snared him as surely as any trap.
‘He orders our immediate return,’ said Flayoun, his voice husky with tension.
‘Tell him...’ began Veek, and then, suddenly, a new and exciting possibility popped into her mind. What if she stayed on this rainy little world, dropped out of the Great Mission? It was a dangerous thought. If she stayed, the Vale Commander would find her, and have her eviscerated and eaten. Even if she somehow escaped that fate, there was no guarantee she’d ever see her homeworld again.
And that, she realised in a flash of insight, was what she wanted more than anything, more than the success of the mission.
To return to Valeth Skettra...
She’d somehow always known it, but it was the first time such a thought had formed crystal-clear in her mind. It shocked her -and thrilled her.
‘Hunt Marshal? Veek?’
But any action would have to wait. She would have to guard her words and deeds carefully so they wouldn’t betray her thoughts.
Veek shook her head, dislodging droplets of water from her fur, and followed Flayoun back to the skirmisher. The prospect of the long sleep rose like a stone slab on her mental horizon, cold and senseless.
Chapter Six
A Cold Day in Hell
The rain had washed most of the blood away. At least Aline could be thankful for that.
Of the Eknuri themselves, or their attackers, there was no sign, bar the odd scrap of torn clothing, discarded baubles of jewellery, a lone sandal. The waterfall still spiralled down from its cleft in the cliff, sparkling in the sunshine which seemed even more vivid after the brief intensity of the storm. The air bore a fresh, metallic tang, obscenely clean, like a freshly scrubbed mortuary.
The Doctor stood in the middle of the courtyard, hands cupped to his lips. ‘Anyone there?’
His voice echoed around the stone courtyard and along the receding perspective of cliffs until it was swallowed up in the ceaseless sighing of the surf.
No reply came.
The Doctor’s face was ashen, hands hanging impotently at his sides. ‘Nothing.’
Aline shivered. The sun was just beginning to dry her wrecked dress and her messed-up hair, both of which clung to her like clumps of kelp. Her shoeless feet ached from the run back.
They had waited until the shape in the mouth of the cave had retreated. Waited until the sound of engines screamed away into the sky like a fading nightmare. Aline wanted to wait until the storm passed, but the Doctor insisted on getting back so they ran pell-mell through the streaming rain which seemed as though it was never going to end. Even underneath the Doctor’s coat, flapping around her like an unruly second skin, Aline had got soaked.
Now the Doctor, his sodden coat slipped back over his surprisingly broad shoulders without a second’s thought, was crouching to examine the shattered remains of the servitors, which had fallen by the parapet of the o
pening through which the waterfall spiralled its unfeeling way. ‘They didn’t manage to invoke the warpfield, so...’
Aline hugged her damp chest. ‘The Valethske must have taken them.’
The Doctor’s look was accusing, as if he resented her voicing the dreadful possibility. ‘You said there were reports of them hunting humans.’
Aline shook her head. ‘Not actual, verifiable reports.
Travellers’ tales, stories, legends, that sort of thing, it’s hard to say how much is based on fact. They all tell of Valethske raiding parties taking whole colonies away with them, harpooning babies for sport, keeping people alive for days while they chew on their extremities. That sort of thing.’
‘No one’s ever studied them, worked out what makes them tick?’
Aline shook her head. ‘I never really believed they were real until now. Just stories.’
‘Oh they’re real enough, unfortunately for us,’ said the Doctor.
He walked quickly over to his TARDIS, fishing in his inside coat pocket and drawing out a small key on a long golden chain.
‘We’ve wasted enough time here.’ A glance back over his shoulder. ‘Are you coming?’
Aline realised what he meant, and felt a thrill of fear and anticipation shudder through her. The blue box looked so ordinary, so mundane, that it was hard to believe that it was one of the most powerful machines in the known universe. A bit like the Doctor - homely and innocent on the outside, but inside? She felt guilty thinking about it, but this was the chance of a lifetime. She tried to forget that people had died, that by the grace of little more than blind luck she was the only survivor. But hadn’t she always tried to turn any situation, however dire, to the good?
‘Come on, come on!’ said the Doctor, thrusting the door open and beckoning her on. ‘There’s no other way off this planetoid, unless you want to wait for the Valethske to come back for seconds.’
Overcome with a sense of fearful curiosity, Aline allowed herself to be manhandled inside the Time Lord’s TARDIS.
After a moment of disorientation, she found herself standing blinking in a brightly lit room, swaying slightly on her bare feet.
The Doctor darted around the console that dominated the room, and fell upon a bank of switches. The column in the centre began a gentle rise and fall. ‘I haven’t got time for you to be overwhelmed, just accept that it’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside,’ he straightened up, his hair flopping down over his brow, ‘and get on with it.’
‘Don’t worry, I can accept it,’ said Aline, padding towards the console, fighting down a feeling of disappointment. She’d been expecting a glittering crystal-cathedral, or an echoing Gothic chamber of flickering shadows, or something she couldn’t possibly imagine that would take her breath away.
Not just a big white room with roundels on the walls, a six-sided console and a wobbling hum right on the edge of her hearing.
‘Get on with what?’
He whirled away from the console and ushered her towards a door in the far wall. ‘You need to clean up and change into something more practical. Wardrobe’s down there, second door on the right, bathroom’s opposite. Usually.’
Aline fought free of his gentle but insistent persuasion.
‘Where are we going?’
‘After the Valethske. Now please hurry, I’ve got to track that shuttle.’
He all but shoved her through the door.
Aline bathed and changed in panicky haste, resisting the temptation to explore the seemingly infinite wardrobe, finding for herself a rough approximation of what she used to wear in the field. And would again, she told herself, when she came out the other side of this. But every time she closed her eyes, she could see the jackal heads of the Valethske, distant and terrible against the clouds. As she washed the sand from between her toes and dried her rain-soaked body she felt herself verging on a panic attack - a feeling of constant awaking, a heart-thumping rush, just like when she tried coming off her medication too early. She was about to go with this alien into a nest of other aliens vicious aliens who would surely kill her what was she doing?
It was with a bitter, helpless anger that Aline dressed herself, forcing her body - drenched again, this time with sweat - into sturdy boots, khaki trousers with lots of pockets, a thick dark-green cotton shirt, and an ancient-looking brown leather jacket. Strangely, it had all been laid out for her on the back of a chair, almost as if the Doctor had known she was coming.
Wait - what if he had? What if this was all some sort of plot?
‘More likely a delusional episode,’ she told herself. ‘Time Lords, Valethske, what next?’
Perhaps...
No. She’d never meet their like again. And if she did, that would be the end, for sure. Her mind wouldn’t be able to take a second Encounter.
Aline shook her head, banishing such thoughts, and tied back her black hair with an equally black ribbon. Since her unburdening she felt empty, lost, as if telling the Doctor had removed an important part of who she was. No one, except those directly involved, and senior people at the Institute, knew about what had happened, and she hadn’t spoken about it to anyone bar her therapist for years. Telling the Doctor had been a good idea when faced with what at the time seemed like certain death, but she wasn’t so sure now.
Anyway, she hadn’t told him everything. She didn’t know everything herself, so how could she?
Back in the console room, the Doctor was waiting for her, arms folded, smiling the painted-on smile of someone with bad news to break.
Aline was instantly on her guard. ‘What is it?’
‘Like the jacket. Belonged to Amelia Earhart, I think.’
Aline knew hedging when she heard it. ‘I thought we were madly chasing the Valethske shuttle?’
‘Oh we are, we are,’ he came up to her, his eyes searching her face. ‘But this is a time machine.’
He seemed to be awaiting a reaction, but he’d totally lost her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ said the Doctor, leading her towards the disappointingly low-tech console, indicating a tiny screen with a jabbing finger, ‘that there’s no immediate rush.’
The display showed a parabolic arc linking a cluster of figures. A small dot was moving along the arc. It meant little to Aline. The figures seemed to be co-ordinates of some sort, but the display was meaningless. ‘Why, what’s happened?’
‘We were too late. Before we even got back to the TARDIS, the shuttle had docked with its mothership. And by the time we dematerialised the mothership had engaged some sort of faster-than-light drive.’ He frowned. ‘Not much faster-than-light, though, which doesn’t say a lot for Valethske technology.’
Aline folded her arms, the jacket creaking in protest. She had an uneasy feeling about what was coming. ‘Get to the point.’
He spoke quickly and breathlessly, the words tumbling over each other. The point is, the Valethske mothership is heading for a solar system some hundred and thirty light years away.
It’s going to take them a while to get there and, to survive the journey, the Valethske must be putting themselves into some sort of suspended animation. Probably very rough and ready, judging by the evidence we have so far of their technology. I wonder why they’re putting themselves through all this?’ He paused, frowning, momentarily lost in thought.
‘They may have frozen their prey, too,’ said Aline. ‘Peri. The Eknuri...’
The Doctor paced around the console. ‘As the Valethske ship is in FTL, I can’t risk attempting a landing now. The only chance of rescuing Peri and the others is to try to materialise the ship just as it emerges from FTL, before the Valethske wake up.’
‘So that means...’
‘Yes,’ said the Doctor, coming to a stop in front of Aline.
‘Travelling approximately one hundred years into your future, Into a very dangerous situation indeed’ He sighed. ‘There’s no way of knowing what’s waiting for us on the Valethske ship.’
A
feeling of feathery lightness took hold of Aline. This was almost too much to take, on top of everything else. What had started as a gentle reintroduction to the field of xenology had mutated into a headlong flight towards her worst fears.
The Doctor rested a solicitous hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’
It was the second time he’d asked. Aline hugged the jacket to her, relishing its musky smell, taking comfort in its solidity.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘Good! I waited for you to change so you could have the choice. We haven’t left your time-stream yet - I could either put you down somewhere inhabited now, and you can get on with your life, or you can come with me.’
Her life. Her brothers in the senate, her mother, her therapist, the astrophysicist she’d started a peripatetic affair with, all the people that cared about her -
- would all be dead in a hundred years. It would almost feel as if she was killing them if she went with the Doctor.
‘Given what you’ve told me, I thought I’d better let you choose. I wouldn’t want to force you into a situation where you wouldn’t be able to cope.’
The Doctor’s words wormed their way deep into Aline’s mind, reaching down to the brilliant young student she had been, the confident and renowned xenologist she’d become.
How many first contacts did she have to her name? How dare he suggest that she wouldn’t be able to cope!
But you won’t cope, came her inner voice. You proved that back on the planetoid. The only thing that motivates you now is fear.
‘Aline?’
On the other hand, there’s nothing like facing your fear.
And if she left the Doctor now, she’d be running away.
She’d probably never get the opportunity to study a Time Lord again. Though the prospect frightened her more than she could begin to imagine, she came to a decision.
‘Doctor, it would be a very bad idea if I came with you. I’d much rather not.’
