Doctor Who_ Shakedown Part 8

'I've discovered that for myself,' said Bernice deliberately.

'I ran into a specimen of your local bandits as soon as I arrived. One of the Harrubtii...'

She gave him a brief account of events at the s.p.a.ceport.

The Chancellor listened with absorbed interest. When she had finished he said, 'My most profound apologies for your unhappy experience. However, you seem to have coped with it most resourcefully.' He paused for a moment. 'Who told you the Harrubtii were robbers?'

'My a.s.signed mentor, Hapiir.'

'Strange that he should make such an elementary mistake.'

'I don't understand, Lord Chancellor.'

'The Harrubtii would think robbery beneath them. One could scarcely call them bandits.'

'What are they then?'

'They are a.s.sa.s.sins.'

'Why should they want to kill me?'

'Why indeed? Usually, the Harrubtii only kill each other; they engage in endless blood-feuds. Occasionally, however, for an important customer and for a very high fee, they will hire out their services.' The Chancellor settled back in his chair, folding his six legs. 'I regret to say, Domina Bernice, that someone very rich and very powerful desires your death.'

'But that's impossible,' said Bernice. 'Why should anyone want to kill me? I accept what you say about my research, but surely no one would kill me to stop me doing it?'

'Perhaps there may be some other reason,' said the Chancellor. 'Strangely enough, given their profession, the Harrubtii are also our greatest religious zealots. If they thought you intended to pry into matters of religion, they would be totally ruthless. Possibly someone has misinformed them as to the purpose of your visit?'

Possibly someone has, thought Bernice. If, as the Lord Chancellor had suggested, someone wanted her dead, putting the local religious fanatics on her trail would be a very good way to achieve it.

That someone must know of her mission and be ready to go to any lengths to stop her succeeding. Which meant that there was something on Sentarion for her to find out.

Maybe her trip to Sentarion wasn't such a sideshow after all.

4.

Blasphemer Bernice Summerfield was silent and thoughtful as she made her way back along the endless colonnade.

Her guide Hapiir gave her a worried look.

'You seem preoccupied, Domina. Your interview with the Chancellor did not go well?'

'Perfectly well, thank you. The Chancellor was most charming.'

'Yet you seem concerned. Is something troubling you?'

'Yes. You are, actually.'

'But in what way, Domina?'

'I was wondering why you told me the Harrubtii were simply bandits. Your Chancellor says they are a.s.sa.s.sins. He said they were religious zealots as well. He seemed to think that someone might have told them I intended to pry into their religious secrets. Why didn't you tell me any of this?'

Hapiir glanced round, lowering his voice to make sure they were not overheard. 'I was ashamed, Domina, afraid that you would think we were barbarians on Sentarion. Also, I wished to spare you alarm.'

'How do you mean?'

'To be attacked by casual bandits is bad enough. But to be the target of the Harrubtii they are relentless fanatics.'

'Wouldn't it have been better to tell me the truth? If I know the real danger, I have a better chance of dealing with it.'

'That may well be so, Domina. My intentions were for the best. If I was in error, I am very sorry.'

Hapiir sounded sincere enough, thought Bernice. All the same, he was one of the few to know the time of her arrival.

He hadn't turned up to the rescue until she had dealt with things herself.

And not telling her of her real danger made her an easier target for any future attack.

Hapiir had tried to play down the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt from the beginning. Perhaps he was just concerned to keep up the good name of the University, as he claimed. Or perhaps he had other motives.

They turned off the colonnade and walked along the narrow corridor that led to her quarters.

Hapiir paused by her door. 'Dinner will be served in the Great Hall very soon, Domina. You will hear the bell. You can find your way by following the others. I will meet you tomorrow morning in the Main Library at the beginning of the First Quarter. Anyone will tell you the way.'

Inclining his tall spindly body in a bow, Hapiir turned and scuttled away with unseemly haste, as if anxious to avoid more awkward questions. Or perhaps he was just embarra.s.sed.

There was just no way of knowing who you could trust.

Telling herself she was rapidly becoming paranoid, Bernice pushed open her door and found the contents of her pack scattered all over the room.

It had been tipped out and the contents thoroughly searched. It could hardly have been Hapiir, he'd been with her except when she'd been in the Lord Chancellor's study.

Would he have had time? Of course, there was no reason to a.s.sume he was working alone. He could have tipped off an accomplice that she was out of her room.

Even if Hapiir was innocent, it was quite possible that her mysterious enemies the Harrubtii perhaps, or whoever was behind them would have agents amongst the University staff and servants.

Cursing silently to herself, Bernice took off her scarlet robes, changed into dark trousers and tunic, and set about tidying away her things into the built-in shelves and cupboards provided. At first she thought nothing had actually been stolen. Then she realized her blaster had gone.

By the time she finished her task the clamour of a great bell was echoing along the corridors.

Draining the last of her Eridanean brandy to give herself courage, Bernice went out into the corridor and joined the stream of hungry scholars heading for dinner.

The Great Hall was a huge cathedral-like s.p.a.ce, with an elaborately decorated arched roof. It was filled with row upon row of stone tables and stone benches, arranged on two levels.

The lower level filled the body of the hall. At the back of the hall, a smaller number of tables ran along a raised dais.

The lower tables were mostly unoccupied and Bernice realized that this was because term hadn't started yet. Only the staff of the University and visiting scholars, like herself, were in residence.

Unsure of her place in the academic scheme of things, Bernice found a seat at one of the smaller tables on the dais, already half-filled by an a.s.sortment of human, humanoid and non-human scholars.

Scurrying beetle-like servants hurried about the hall, carrying steaming tureens of soup, loaves of coa.r.s.e bread, great bowls of fruit and salad, and earthenware jugs.

As soon as Bernice sat down, one of them poured her a bowl of soup. Another poured a gla.s.s of sparkling green liquid from a jug. She swigged it down and grimaced. It was fruit juice.

'If you were hoping for champagne, or even a simple vin de vin de planet, you're out of luck,' said a voice from the other side of the table. planet, you're out of luck,' said a voice from the other side of the table.

Bernice looked up and saw a large, plump, red-faced, white-bearded man in an embroidered tunic. He had a sunburned bald head, sparkling blue eyes, and the broken-veined nose of a dedicated drinker.

'The Sentarrii believe that alcohol clouds the intellect and blurs reality,' he went on.

'Well, of course it does,' said Bernice. 'Otherwise there'd be no point in drinking.'

He held out his hand. 'Professor Lazio Zeman.

Xenosociology.'

'Professor Bernice Summerfield. History and Archaeology.'

They shook hands.

'I hope they haven't pa.s.sed a Prohibition law,' said Bernice. 'I once visited a town where they tried that. It didn't work.'

'Prohibition only applies on University premises,' said Zemar. 'There are a few low dives scattered around the University, mostly in Old Town. They cater for the alien element meaning us! I think I can claim to know them all.'

Bernice looked hard at him. He looked amiable and harmless and she had to start finding her way around sooner or later.

'You wouldn't care to show a newcomer around, would you?'

He bowed his head. 'I should be most happy to give you a guided tour.'

Bernice finished her vegetable soup and helped herself to a bowl of chopped green salad.

'You're on! All this healthy living is getting me down.'

While they ate, Zemar gave her a quick run-down on Sentarion society. 'There are an infinite number of variations, but just three main divisions. The smaller black ones are the workers, the builders, the cleaners and servants like the excellent creatures looking after us now. They work hard, speak little and never complain. The green ones are civil servants and functionaries. They are meticulous and pedantic, obsessed with rules and correct behaviour. You'll be a.s.signed one as a mentor.'

Bernice selected a peach-like fruit from the bowl on the table. 'I've already got him. His name's Hapiir.'

'An excellent fellow,' said Zemar. 'You couldn't do better.

Where was I? Finally we have the dominant species, the Sentarrii themselves. Highly evolved, dispa.s.sionately intelligent, devoted to scholars.h.i.+p in all its forms. A most mysterious species.'

'Mysterious how?'

'The Sentarrii evolved from soldier-ants one of the most implacably ferocious life-forms in the universe. Yet at some stage in their history they underwent a kind of ma.s.s conversion, and dedicated themselves to non-violence and to scholars.h.i.+p. At the same time their technology made a kind of quantum leap.'

'How do you mean?'

Like most academics, Zemar couldn't resist the temptation to lecture. 'Most technological civilizations evolve in much the same way. Fossil fuels, steam-power, the internal combustion engine and then atomics. It's only when they've already polluted most of their planet that people start looking for something better. But the Sentarrii bypa.s.sed all that and went straight for electricity with solar power as their prime energy source.'

Apparently the crystalline rock of which all the buildings were built actually stored solar energy. Entire buildings acted as giant storage units.

'The ornithopters are solar-powered as well,' Zemar explained. 'There are solar panels on the wings they replenish their energy as they fly. So, no roads, no rail, s.h.i.+ps, no hovercraft and no pollution. The 'thopters take care of all transport. They're not fast but they're cheap, and they keep going for ever.'

'What about s.p.a.ce travel?'

'They don't bother with it. They let the cosmos come to them!'

'Does it work?'

Zemar beamed. 'Obviously. After all, here we are!'

'So we are,' said Bernice. 'How about that drink?'

Zemar led her out of the University complex and into the warm twilight. The twisting alleyways of Old Town were lit with myriad softly glowing lights, filled with a variety of strolling life-forms, most of them alien visitors of one kind or another.

The indigenous insectoids, explained Zemar, didn't socialize much. They disappeared into homes or nests or hives every evening and reappeared next day.

Bernice was still hungry after her healthy meal, and they stopped at a street stall, run by a large and furry arachnid, for grilled desert-lizard kebab, and flagons of fizzy local beer.