Doctor Who_ The Fall Of Yquatine Part 23

She gave no sign that she could. Her eyes remained closed. Short, gasping breaths escaped from between her desiccated lips.

If he hadn't come back in time one month, if he hadn't worked in Il-Eruk's, if he had never met Arielle, then she'd still be alive. And maybe the Omnethoth attack wouldn't have happened. His head reeled as he tried to work it out, and he came to a shattering conclusion. His coming back in time had set in train the sequence of events leading to the end of Yquatine. He'd been so b.l.o.o.d.y careful, not warning anyone, going out of his way to avoid Lou Lombardo, but it had all been for nothing. He'd walked right into it, like a trap. Was it because he was tainted by Faction Paradox? Was this some intricate, temporal sick joke? Fitz couldn't shake the feeling that it was all somehow his fault. That inbuilt Kreiner guilt again.

'Arielle?'

She was hardly breathing now.

Fitz let go of her hand, turned away. He couldn't stand this. 'How much longer?'

Compa.s.sion's impa.s.sive tones. 'Not long.'

Fitz screwed himself up to say kill her, put her out of her misery kill her, put her out of her misery, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't let go of hope. 'Isn't there anything else you can do for her?'

'A ma.s.sive infusion of Artron energy might reverse the process. But I don't know how to control it, Fitz. I'm too young. It could kill her or worse.'

Fitz looked around at the forest. It was like a hotchpotch of all the forests in every horror movie he had ever seen. The strange thing was, he could see quite clearly, although there was no obvious light source. The nearest trunks were gnarled, the bark ancient and black, crooked branches thrust as if in supplication to the 'sky' above, which was like an upturned bowl of blue gla.s.s, cloudless, starless. The leaves on the trees were dark-green spiked things, like tiny daggers. Beyond the first row of trees the trunks proliferated, until they became one solid ma.s.s of gloom.

And, in the middle of the haunted forest, this oasis of life. Arielle, on her green leaf, Fitz kneeling on the short purple gra.s.s willing her to live.

It had to be worth a try. 'Do it, Compa.s.sion. It's her only chance.'

A sigh whispered through the trees. Something glowed within their depths, a golden sprite. It danced nearer, nearer, zigzagging through the branches and trunks.

Fitz crouched near Arielle again, leaning on the porous pale-green tongue of leaf, placing his hand in hers. 'It's gonna be all right,' he whispered, mainly to calm himself.

The golden sprite danced out of the woods, a fairy sparkle, a magic spell. Compa.s.sion was murmuring wordless soothing sounds at the edge of his hearing.

The golden sparkle settled over Arielle, spreading out over her body. For a second, Arielle's skin glowed with health, and she was young again, young and beautiful, her perfect face smiling in sleep.

Fitz's heart leapt and then the glow vanished, and Arielle was ravaged and desiccated and dying.

Fitz's heart was thumping fit to burst. He pressed her hand to his chest. A sob escaped his lips.

'The cellular damage is irreversible. All the energy in the universe wouldn't be enough to save her.'

Fitz let Arielle's hand drop. He turned away, walked into the forest. 'Take me outside,' he said.

There was a flash of light and

he was sitting in the copilot's seat next to Compa.s.sion. He stared at the blackness of s.p.a.ce through the forward window. He could make out only a few distant stars. If he stared long enough he could forget he was sitting inside a shuttle, and could believe he was floating in s.p.a.ce, drifting between the stars, a bodiless ent.i.ty.

Compa.s.sion spoke. 'Fitz, I am sorry.'

Fitz looked away from the window, rubbed his eyes. He turned to look at Compa.s.sion. 'For abandoning me on Yquatine?'

She nodded.

'For trying to kill me?'

She nodded again.

'For not being able to save Arielle?'

Compa.s.sion hung her head. But her voice carried threat. 'Don't push it.'

Fair enough, thought Fitz. At least she was still human enough to realise that trying to kill your companions was just not on. He stared at the blackness of s.p.a.ce once more. trying to push all thoughts of Arielle from his mind. Something was bothering him.

If Compa.s.sion hadn't turned up to save him, if she hadn't interfered with the transmitter, then maybe the possessed Arielle wouldn't have activated it. It was an uncomfortable thought. He tried to put it into words, though Compa.s.sion was probably the last person person? you would ask for rea.s.surance. 'Compa.s.sion, if you hadn't attacked the transmitter, would it have activated?'

Compa.s.sion smiled, which Fitz thought highly inappropriate. 'It was due to be activated shortly. Had I not arrived, you would be dead, remember?' She rolled her eyes. 'Have a little faith, Fitz.'

The phrase was so Doctor-esque it brought Fitz up with a start. 'What about the Doctor? Couldn't you have traced his biodata when you were in the vortex?'

'The Doctor's biodata is complicated, spread out through time like seeds in a storm, impossible to track. You were easy to find, which is why I came to you first, even though I wanted to find the Doctor.'

Thanks a bunch, thought Fitz. 'So, where is he now?'

Compa.s.sion's eyes gleamed. 'He's in this time zone. I can feel him. On Aloysius Station. I've set us on course but it'll take a couple of days in this pile of junk, even with the repairs I've managed to make.'

She obviously saw the little shuttle as a far inferior travel machine to herself. But at least it worked. Just. Fitz relaxed a little. The Doctor must have escaped from Yquatine. He'd probably saved hundreds of people as well. Could Fitz allow himself to hope that the Doctor was alive? Compa.s.sion may think she was right, but Fitz was afraid of having his hopes dashed, afraid of the grief he would feel if it turned out the Doctor was dead. Only when the Doctor was standing there before him would he allow himself to believe.

'I hope we find him,' said Fitz with feeling. 'I hope he's OK.'

'So do I,' said Compa.s.sion.

There was a tone in her voice that made Fitz stare at her. 'Look, you're not blaming him for all this, are you?'

Her eyes blazed. 'Who fitted this thing to me? Who cursed me to travel for decades in the vortex?' She sighed. 'Who's the only person who can remove it?'

Her questions were clearly rhetorical, so Fitz lapsed into thoughts of Arielle. 'How is Arielle doing?'

Compa.s.sion's fingers danced on the keypad in front of her. 'She's asking for you.'

Fitz all but lunged at her. 'Well, take me to her, then!'

Arielle's eyes were open, her lips trembling to form a word, to speak a name. 'Fitz?'

He moved so his face was above hers. 'I'm here.'

'What happened to me?'

Fitz held her hand. There was no point in lying. 'I'm so sorry, Arielle. It must have been on the St Julian St Julian. You got infected with something and I couldn't help you because I was in prison.'

'Prison?'

Fitz nodded, swallowing hard. 'The President chucked me in prison. He thought I'd caused your illness.'

The once full lips, now parched and cracked, formed a smile 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'

Fitz smiled back. 'Yeah, you were well shot of that smarmy git.'

A look of terror pa.s.sed over her face. 'Hold me.'

Fitz climbed on the leaf beside her, cradling her body in his arms. She felt light, as if she was made of polystyrene.

'Not long now.' Compa.s.sion's voice, intrusive.

'A little privacy, please?' snapped Fitz.

Silence. He couldn't be sure she wasn't watching, but he didn't care.

Arielle was trying to speak again. 'It wasn't me,' she whispered.

'What?'

She struggled to hold Fitz. 'If it wasn't me, would have been... someone else. Just my... bad luck.'

He lay there on the spongy leaf, her hair over his face, feeling her fighting to breathe, feeling the life ebb away from her. It was true. If the Omnethoth hadn't got Arielle then some other poor sucker on the St Julian St Julian would have copped it, maybe even him. Just an accident, just bad luck. Sod's law. Life's like that. No such thing as fair or unfair, depends on your point of view. Road accidents, disease, famine, plague, whatever all part of the grand scheme of things and you just have to put up with it, or go under. Life is unfair kill yourself or get over it. would have copped it, maybe even him. Just an accident, just bad luck. Sod's law. Life's like that. No such thing as fair or unfair, depends on your point of view. Road accidents, disease, famine, plague, whatever all part of the grand scheme of things and you just have to put up with it, or go under. Life is unfair kill yourself or get over it.

But travelling with the Doctor had made him realise that you could make a difference, that you could c.o.c.k a snook at the universe and get away with it. You could save lives, work miracles, defeat the baddies and win the girl. You could but you very often never did. In all the victories of his life, there had been defeats and disappointments. He'd helped save the creatures of the Dominion, but he had lost Kerstin, who was presumably still moping about in Sweden. Looking at it the other way round, it didn't seem so bad, but there wasn't even the smallest slice of solace to balance against the death of Arielle. Yquatine was destroyed, Compa.s.sion was unable to use her TARDIS powers, and the Doctor was out of reach.

Arielle's death was like the punchline of an enormously long and cruel joke which had seen him abandoned, arrested, imprisoned and now unable to save the life of someone he cared about.

Arielle clung to him, like a ghost or a drowning nymph, waiting to be plucked away into the silent depths of the ocean. She was struggling to speak, and he put his ear close to hers. He couldn't hear what she was saying so he whispered gently to her. 'I love you.'

She was struggling to speak. Fitz's insides were like knots of ice.

'Tell my brother tell Boris...' Her eyes widened, there was a soft, sad sigh and her clinging arms fell limp.

Fitz let her go, let her body relax into the leaf. Almost immediately she began to fade away as if she was made of smoke, dissolving into the leaf. Fitz slid off the soft, porous surface and stood watching as with a soft sucking sound the leaf folded itself up and retracted into the ground, leaving no sign of its presence but a fairy ring in the purple gra.s.s.

Fitz stared at it for a while, feeling too numb for tears. He raised his eyes and looked at the forest, with its dark trunks and gnarled branches and spiky leaves.

It looked positively inviting.

Perhaps if he walked for long enough he'd lose himself.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

'People of the Minerva System...'

Blank screen. Then an image a male, bland-featured even by human standards: 'ockman of Minerva News Network bringing you the latest on the catastrophic events taking place on Yquatine.'

The image expanded to include another human, a female with long dark hair. Like the male, she had a fixed stare and stiff-shouldered stance. The shadow of fear was in her eyes: 'Good evening, I'm Lyria Hoist and later on I'll be talking to some of the tragically few survivors about how they feel in these darkest of days.'

The male spoke again: 'But first a word from President Vargeld who miraculously and thankfully escaped the destruction of his homeworld.'

The image changed to a head-andshoulders shot of Vargeld, in front of the flag of the Minerva s.p.a.ce Alliance. He spoke, the tone of his voice low and unsteady with emotion: 'People of the Minerva System, there is little I can say that will lessen the shock, fear and grief you, like me, are all feeling. My thoughts are with the millions dead, and those who have survived. We have all lost families, partners... We have lost more than we can comprehend at this present time. But there is solace in that we are not alone in our grief, that we all bear the brunt of the sorrow that shrouds our hearts. And out of this sorrow will grow a greater determination to face the uncertain future.'

A pause.

He continued, his voice taking on a higher, more urgent tone: 'Now is the time for action. And action is being taken to counter the danger that is spreading out from Yquatine and threatens to engulf the entire System.'

Cutaway to a shot of s.h.i.+ps positioning themselves around the stricken planet. The President continued in voice-over: 'This time, we will not fail. These s.h.i.+ps are armed with weapons designed to deliver an ionisation field to the Omnethoth. A field that will break up their molecular structure and destroy them.'

The image changed back to that of Vargeld, eyes gleaming in defiance: 'When not if but when when the Omnethoth are defeated, we will all have to work together to rebuild the shattered heart of our beloved System. Once again, my thoughts are with you all.' the Omnethoth are defeated, we will all have to work together to rebuild the shattered heart of our beloved System. Once again, my thoughts are with you all.'

The image changed again to the two MNN newsreaders. The female Lyria Holst was speaking: 'The nature of the Omnethoth an ancient weapons system which somehow reactivated itself was revealed by an out-System scientist known only as the Doctor.'

An image of another male human, this one with curly light-brown hair, standing in a corridor presumably of Aloysius Station, speaking quickly and urgently: 'Yes, soon the Omnethoth surrounding Yquatine will be ready to manufacture whole fleets of a.s.sault s.h.i.+ps. They'll spread out to occupy the entire System, unless...'

Unseen interviewer's voice: 'Unless the attack fleet gets there first?'

A quick, nervous smile, blazing eye contact with the camera. 'Quite... Now if you'll just excuse me...'

The image wobbled as if the cameraman had been shoved out of the way and then returned to the two newsreaders. The male spoke: 'No one knows who he is or where he came from but we are all thankful for his help in the war against the Omnethoth.'

A switch was pressed and the screen went blank.

The Grand Gynarch wheeled her chair around to face the six members of the Inner Circle Elite, seated on stone blocks in a chamber deep within the Imperial Palace. Her hips had given way a few weeks ago and she was confined to a motorised chair. It wouldn't be long until she followed the great line of Gynarchs into the coils of the Six Hundred. Already the youngest of her children was being groomed and oiled for the role of Gynarch. Young, supple, fierce-hearted Zizeenia. A worthy successor.

'As you know, the Doctor is on a mission with Commander Zendaak to retrieve a sample of the Omnethoth weapon. With this, we shall be able to conquer the System, and beyond.'

The Elite nodded, remained silent.

The Grand Gynarch waved a hand at the silent screen, and it activated again. 'Whether or not the attack on the Omnethoth fails, it is time for us to move.'

The screen now showed a view of Aloysius Station, like a silver claw hanging in s.p.a.ce. Ranged around it was a ring of Anthaurk battles.h.i.+ps.

'Our fleet is guarding Aloysius against any Omnethoth incursion. The main fleets of Adamantine, Zolion, Ixtrice and the others are still stationed on their homeworlds and would take hours to reach Aloysius. With many s.h.i.+ps of the Minerva s.p.a.ce Alliance fleet destroyed in the first attack on the Omnethoth, their forces are in disarray and the time is ripe for us to press home our advantage.'

She scanned their faces quickly for any sign of dissent. There was none, which was good. She had never got the chance to interrogate the dissident M'Pash before her strange disappearance and, though she supposed she'd never find out where the dissent had started, she was always on the alert for a fresh outbreak.

'It is time we issued our ultimatum.'

Six pairs of eyes stared back at her. She could sense their unease. She s.h.i.+fted in her motorised chair, wincing at the dull pain. 'I smell questions. Do not be afraid. We stand before a great moment in history I will not let protocol get in the way.'

Zuklor, the oldest and wisest of the Elite, stood up. 'Grand Gynarch, with respect, it is not certain that the Omnethoth are going to be destroyed. The ionisation attack may fail' There was the faintest trace of fear in his dry old voice. Fear was always an ugly sound. 'The Omnethoth could yet spread out, as they threatened. They could consume New Anthaur.'