Doctor Who_ The Fall Of Yquatine Part 1

The Fall of Yquatine.

by Nick Walters.

Acknowledgements

The Fall of Yquatine owes its existence to the following people: owes its existence to the following people: Steve Cole, for liking the story in the first place Justin Richards, for all his help during the writing and editing of this book Jac Rayner, all at BBC Worldwide, and everyone on the Celestis discussion group Paul Leonard and Paul Vearncombe, for reading the first drafts, handy scientific and military advice, encouragement and friends.h.i.+p Becky Waghorne, for extremely quick read-through duly, and girly perspective Lawrence Miles, for starting the whole thing off with Interference Interference Paul Cornell, for The Shadows of Avalon The Shadows of Avalon The Bristol SF Group and Bristol Fiction Writers And, while here, h.e.l.lo to all my friends and family, and thanks to all the people I don't know who read and enjoyed Dominion Dominion.

Nick Walters Nick Walters

Law and Chaos, the two processes that dominate existence, are equally indifferent to the individual. To Chaos, Law destroys; to Law, Chaos. They equally create, dictate to, and destroy the individual.

John Fowles, The Aristos The Aristos I thought I might help them understand What an ugly thing to see Michael Stipe

Part One

You Can Run, but You Can't Hide

Chapter One.

'What the h.e.l.l am I doing here?'

Arielle felt as if the city of Yendip was trying to absorb her into itself. Caught up in a surging throng, she stumbled past a Kukutsi foodstall, bubbling pots sending wraiths of steam into the air. Next, a street cafe spilled out into the road, a tangle of chair legs. limbs and conversation. A sound system had been set up in the middle of the road, tiny speakers darting through the air like dozy bees, exotic dancers of several species cavorting amid the crowd.

Arielle felt drunk on the variety, each new sight. sound and smell making her laugh, gasp, choke or simply gape in astonishment. She wanted to stop and look but the crowd wouldn't let her. She had no choice but to half-walk, half-stumble down the street, past rows of biscuit-coloured stone dwellings from which more people poured, swelling the tide.

And it was so hot hot: her face ached from squinting against the dazzling sunlight and her feet were baking inside her boots. She grimaced. Stupid to wear the things, but her sandals were somewhere inside one of the couple of dozen packing cases cramping her small room back at the university. There had been more than enough time to unpack her course didn't start for two weeks but she had arrived early so she could catch the Treaty Day celebrations.

'Hey, girl, whatya doing doing?'

Fixing her expression into a mask of disinterest, Arielle looked over to the side of the street. A trio of male humans were lounging against a trestle table heaving with bottles. They all wore the fox-faced look of drunken l.u.s.t.

She'd come here, partly, to get away from this sort of thing. But maybe there was no escaping it. She was what she was, wherever she went.

She smiled sweetly at them and raised her hand in the universal gesture of 'go mate with yourself'. Unfortunately, her dignity was totally compromised as, in the next step, she stood on a bottle which skidded from under her feet and sent her flying into the arms of the nearest reveller. Which just happened to be a huge Adamantean. Arielle gasped as the being clutched her to itself to break her fall. It was like being mauled by a statue.

'I'm all right, really,' she said.

The Adamantean nodded. 'Mind how you go,' it intoned, the words ba.n.a.l in its deep, rumbling voice.

The collision had shocked Arielle, and she suddenly felt lost and homesick. Maybe best to go back to her room, unpack properly, send a message to Boris She frowned, marshalling herself. That was the old Arielle. The dutiful Arielle who never questioned anything, who did what the family wanted. Who was going to work for Markhof Mining Corporation. Who had died that day she'd looked in the mirror and seen a stranger.

The street began to level out, and presently Arielle found herself in a wide open s.p.a.ce. The crowds thinned out, and a welcome breeze wafted through her sweat-damp T s.h.i.+rt. This must be Founders' Square, she thought, remembering the map in the university prospectus supposedly the very site where the colony s.h.i.+p Minerva Minerva had landed over two hundred years ago. It was obviously a focal point for the celebrations the three-p.r.o.nged jade obelisk in the square's centre had been festooned with flags and bunting which stretched from its tips to the eaves of the buildings at the edge. rather robbing them of their dignity, Arielle thought. There were stalls and games and entertainers, and excited children running about had landed over two hundred years ago. It was obviously a focal point for the celebrations the three-p.r.o.nged jade obelisk in the square's centre had been festooned with flags and bunting which stretched from its tips to the eaves of the buildings at the edge. rather robbing them of their dignity, Arielle thought. There were stalls and games and entertainers, and excited children running about everywhere everywhere. Chaos. Cheesy organ music wafted over it all.

A couple of deerlike Eldrig trotted past. They hooted at her and she realised she'd been staring. They were the first of their kind she had ever seen up close. They were beautiful, their dun skins s.h.i.+ning with perspiration, their hooves tapping on the flagstones. Behind them, trying to grab their flicking tails, was a rather uncharacteristically merry-looking Saraani clutching a bottle of beer. Drink. Now that was an idea. Maybe that would steady her nerves. She remembered Boris telling her where all the best bars in Yendip were in a place called Pierhaven, on the seafront.

Arielle found it without too much trouble. The esplanade, with its frontage of swish hotels, was impressive, and the sight of the sea took her breath away, but once more she had no chance to stop and look as she became swept up in a crowd. She overheard the name 'Pierhaven' a few times so she kept her head down and folded her arms, trying to make herself inconspicuous, and let the crowd take her along the seafront towards a sprawling wooden construction which staggered out into the sea on countless wooden legs.

Arielle hung back, waited for the crowd to thin out, and then pushed through the doors. Neon light and blaring music a.s.saulted her senses, and as she walked deeper in she felt the beginnings of panic; muggings were common in Yendip, she was new here, she had no weapons. She hid in the crowds for safety, befriending a small blue-skinned Ikapi woman who told her a bit about the place. Pierhaven was a maze of dusty pa.s.sageways and rickety wooden walkways which led to innumerable bars, cafes, tattoo parlours, shops, trance dens, clubs, brothels and the like, all arranged haphazardly so that you were always stumbling upon some seedy establishment or other. Some were open to the sky, others enclosed under awnings. The floor beneath varied alarmingly from wooden slats to rope bridges, metal gangways clearly salvaged from wrecks, and circular wells open to the sea in which people swam or fished. It was the sort of place you could lose yourself in and Arielle could see, among the brightly clothed revellers, the sagging faces and shabby clothes of drunks.

Arielle turned to her new friend to comment on this, but she wasn't there. Probably slipped into some bar or other. Arielle suddenly felt vulnerable, so she ducked inside the nearest tavern. It was crowded and noisy lunchtime on Treaty Day had to be one of the busiest times of the year and Arielle had to push herself towards the bar. She leaned her elbows in sticky spilled beer, trying to look casual and unconcerned, her heart hammering away. She couldn't see any bar staff, and ma.s.ses of hands, pincers and feelers were waving money and hollering for attention. Arielle began to have second thoughts. Perhaps she should come back another day.

Then she caught sight of her face in the mirror behind the bar.

The face that stared back at her wasn't her own. It was beautiful pale, smooth skin, gleaming golden-brown hair, big brown eyes, an elegant nose and perfect lips. Even after four years, it still gave her a shock to realise that she looked like this. That she was beautiful.

'What is your pleasure, madam?' came a rasping, lisping voice.

Arielle jumped. A tall lizard-like figure with bright yellow eyes stood before her. It had pale, sand-coloured scales, a narrow, birdlike face, and wore a tight-fitting leather jerkin. It was Arielle had to think for a second an Izrekt.

Arielle spoke in Minervan, the common language of the System. 'A bottle of Admiral's Old Antisocial, please.'

The Izrekt hissed and drew a forelimb to its chin. 'Anti-sssocial I do not have.'

Arielle was disappointed she'd wanted to try Admiral's, it was the favourite drink of a heroine of hers. It didn't matter. 'Erm, well, whatever, then,' she muttered.

The Izrekt c.o.c.ked his head to one side. 'You new here? This first time on planet?'

Arielle nodded. How did he know? 'Yes, I'm a student, came early to see Treaty Day.'

'Interesting, very! What subject?'

Arielle glanced nervously around. He didn't seem to notice the clamouring throng of customers waiting to be served. 'Xen.o.biology, mainly.'

The Izrekt smiled, showing double rows of tiny teeth. 'Well you came to right planet! Welcome to Yquatine, and welcome to my bar. Name is Il-Erik.'

Arielle took his small, clawed hand in hers. 'Arielle Martha Urn, any chance of a beer?'

Il-Eruk gestured to the bottles on the shelves behind him. 'Anthaurk Ale, I recommend.'

Arielle shrugged. 'OK, Anthaurk Ale it is.'

Il-Eruk nodded politely and moved towards the bottles. Arlene noticed tiny wings sprouting from a hole in the jerkin. He swung round, an open bottle in his forelimb, head c.o.c.ked to one side.

Arielle took the bottle and sipped. It had a strong, peppery taste which seemed to shoot right up her nose. She gasped. 'And I have to drink a whole bottle of this!'

She became aware of a silence around her. She turned around slowly, to face four tall, top-heavy figures. Arlene recognised them instantly Anthaurk. Their homeworld had been invaded by the Daleks and the surviving Anthaurk had settled in the Minerva System about a hundred years after the humans. There had been two years of war, before the Treaty of Yquatine had ushered in a peace that had lasted a century. Not the sort of people you wanted to annoy.

'And what is wrong with our ale?' growled the tallest and fiercest-looking Anthaurk.

'Nothing,' said Arielle, in Anthaurk. 'Just takes a little getting used to.'

The Anthaurk hissed and its wide mouth opened. revealing rows of tiny, sharp, white teeth and a glistening purple tongue the size of a small snake. 'So, you abuse our language as well!'

Arielle backed against the bar, realising she was in a lot of trouble. These creatures were obviously out for a fight and unlike humans they didn't care that she was a woman, beautiful or not.

Il-Eruk waved his forelimbs in agitation. 'No trouble, I want!'

The Anthaurk glared at him. 'Stay out of this, Izrekt!

It reached out and grabbed her arm. 'Humans should leave all things Anthaurk alone.'

'Let go of me!' Arielle hissed, suddenly angry with the alien. 'Are you stupid? The tax on Anthaurk Ale is helping to prop up your economy and you should be grateful that people like me are trying it!'

The other Anthaurk hissed with hilarity and clapped their gloved hands. Arielle hoped this would defuse the situation, but the grip tightened.

The Anthaurk's face darted closer to hers, in a fluid, snakelike movement. 'You presume to know our affairs?'

Arielle recoiled, despite her respect for aliens; its breath stank like rotting meat.

'Let her go, Elzar.'

The voice came from behind her. An Anthaurk voice. Arielle twisted round. Another Anthaurk stood at her shoulder, disapproval etched over its scaly features.

Elzar grimaced. 'Let me have my sport, Zendaak.'

The newcomer bared his teeth in anger. 'Let her go! I will not tolerate this!'

Elzar's red eyes widened. Obviously this Zendaak had authority over him, and in his drunken anger he'd forgotten. Until too late.

Elzar let her go and bowed his head. 'I am sorry, Commander.'

Arielle rubbed the life back into her arm. She bruised easily especially since the surgery and there would be an ugly purple mark there tomorrow.

Zendaak towered over her. Like his comrades, he was clad in the uniform of the Anthaurk military: a close-fitting leather garment adorned with piping and shoulder pads, inlaid with swirling patterns. From the wide collar of the uniform rose the neck, a thick, sinewy trunk supporting the curved, snakelike head. Zendaak's scaly skin was a dull orange and across the eyes was a band of darker skin, from within which two red eyes burned like embers. The mouth was wide and the nose was just a double vertical slit. Around the top of the head was a crown of stubby black horns. Zendaak's limbs were thick and powerful, muscles rippling under the tight-fitting uniform. 'You must be punished, Elzar.'

'Yes, Commander.'

Arielle gulped. She had the horrible feeling she was about to witness an evisceration at the very least.

Zendaak fixed Elzar with a stern glare. 'It seems you cannot take the ale, while this mere human ' he waved a clawed hand at Arielle 'can.'

Arielle took instant umbrage at being called 'mere' but she decided to play along and raised her bottle to Elzar.

Zendaak hissed. 'As punishment for such an act of violence on Treaty Day, you will not be permitted to attend the function tonight.'

Arielle almost laughed aloud, but Elzar looked even more abashed.

'Instead, you will remain in our hotel suite, and study the Treaty, including all clauses, subclauses and amendments. Hand over your pa.s.s.'

Elzar reached into a pocket on his belt and took out a small transparent disc, which he pa.s.sed to Zendaak.

Zendaak took the pa.s.s, his lips parting in a grin wide enough to bite your head off. He proffered the disc to Arlene. 'Perhaps you would like to attend in his place?'

There were hisses of outrage from a few of the Anthaurk. laughter from others, and Elzar bared his teeth in a grimace of shame.

Arielle took the disk and smiled her loveliest smile at Zendaak. wondering what this 'function' was. She looked at it. Blue holotext s.h.i.+mmered before her eyes: You are cordially invited to the Palace of Yquatine on the evening of the 16th of Lannasirn 2992 to celebrate the ninety-ninth anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of Yquatine Arielle stared at it. This felt like a dream. She heard the Anthaurk stomping off and when she looked up again she was alone.

She took another sip of Anthaurk Ale. Not bad, on second tasting.

She looked at the invitation again. She couldn't, surely?

Then she smiled. Why not?

Arielle leaned back in the seat of the hover-taxi, relis.h.i.+ng the comfort and trying not to think of the expense. It was dusk, and Yendip was coming alive with lights. Fireworks bloomed in the sky, and the music and revelry went on seemingly without end. She had unearthed the least creased of her frocks a pale-blue strapless thing and found some court shoes. Her mind was a souffle of panic and excitement. At this function she'd get to meet aliens from all over the Minerva System. She couldn't imagine a better start to her studies. All she had to do was concoct some plausible cover story her good looks would do the rest. She hated herself for using her beauty in this way, but it was foolish not to use it. Like having a super weapon or a pa.s.sport to anywhere.

Yendip lay on the eastern coast of Julianis, the largest continent of Yquatine. It boasted a large, busy harbour, from which the town stretched westward until it met Lake Yendip, formed countless millions of years ago when the land ma.s.ses rose and cut off the body of water from the sea. Hills rose in a crescent on the landward side of Lake Yendip, effectively forming the boundaries of the town, though small villages straggled up and down the forested valleys.

They left the town and skimmed across Lake Yendip. It was a beautiful evening, the placid waters reflecting the lights of the town, vessels drifting to and fro, the starry, dark-blue sky, the hills rising in the distance, dotted with b.u.t.tery yellow light. On those hills sat the University of Yquatine; one of those lights indicated Arielle's hall of residence. She tried to work out which one, but soon gave up. There were so many.

In the middle of Lake Yendip there was a flat, disc-shaped artificial island, which supported the Palace of Yquatine and its gardens. The Palace of Yquatine, seat of government not only for Yquatine but for the entire System. Never had Arielle thought she'd be actually going inside it on her first night on Yquatine. She tried to contain her excitement as they approached the island, the towers of the palace rising before her like immense blue sheets of ice.

The console of the taxi gave a few bleeps as they were scanned. Arielle held her breath, and took out the invitation. What should she do, wave it in the air? The palace security systems were renowned for their ruthless efficiency and Arielle fully expected to be fried to a crisp that very second.

But no. A wrinkle appeared in the sky in front of them, and a tingly feeling ran over her whole body as they pa.s.sed through the portal opened in the force field for them.

She was in.

And there before her was the Palace of Yquatine. It was fairy tale itself. It stood in the centre of acres of gardens, floodlit statuary and illuminated fountains. Glow-spheres hovered in the air, lighting the way for the taxi. The palace looked as though it had been made from a sheet of bluegreen silk laid across a bed and tugged upwards by invisible fingers the walls were smooth, opaque, and they seemed to ripple and flow like water. It was an incredible feat of architecture. Man-made beauty, just like her own.

Arielle paid the fare and disembarked. The taxi hummed away. She sighed, a heavy feeling in her chest. Well, she was here now. No going back. She lifted up the hem of her frock and trotted up the steps, acting as if she did this sort of thing all the time. The reception droid scarcely glanced at her pa.s.s. Once past the force field that was it, she supposed.

Inside, Arielle was welcomed by a smooth and smiling palace official and shown into a high-ceilinged circular room, with a balcony offering views of the island and lake, tables groaning with food, floating drinks droids, and crowds of humans and aliens dazzling in their diversity.

A feeling of sheer social vertigo overtook her. Once again she was sixteen, clumsy and shy. She remembered in time to quell her panic that she was a tall, attractive woman. She could do just about whatever she wanted. She smiled at nothing, filled her head with a simple tune, scanned the room for Zendaak.

She saw him, on the far side of the room, and made a beeline for the Anthaurk commander. There were half a dozen other Anthaurk flanking Zendaak so closely that she had to squeeze past them.

'h.e.l.lo,' she said, smiling up at his snakelike face. 'Thought I'd take up your... offer...'