Doctor Who_ Legacy Part 3

'Vor'r'na. This is so unnecessary. Just take the Diadem off and pa.s.s it to me. It's affecting your mind. You don't really want to kill The alien's words were drowned out by a screech of pure loathing. Another recollection - Vor'r'na realized it was a typical noise emitted by his people when angry.

Mentally he chastized himself. He was now above such ridiculous subconscious reactions. He hurled the pebbles at the alien.

As the alien twisted sideways to avoid them, Vor'r'na saw a party of torch-bearing Pakhars heading up the narrow tunnel in front of him. He heard himself screech again, this time adding a few choice obscenities that the alien would barely understand.

The distraction was enough and the alien was suddenly scrabbling towards the Pakhar. Desperately he reached out to try and grasp the Diadem from Vor'r'na's furry head, but Vor'r'rna saw the move and darted back.

Too far.

The Doctor swore as he saw Vor'r'na topple backwards. As the Diadem slipped from his head and into the ravine, Vor'r'na's face took on its familiar peaceful look for a split second, followed by sheer terror. His shrill scream echoed around the caverns for some moments after he followed the Diadem down to certain death.

By the time Legislator Gar'ah'd and his fellow Pakhars had scampered into the cavern, the battle was all over. All they saw was the Doctor looking forlornly over the precipice.

'Legislator, you have offered us a great reward. Many would say it is a reward we do not deserve. We came upon you somewhat . . .' The Doctor paused, stroking the back of his neck as if to hide his slight embarra.s.sment. 'Well, let us say, somewhat deceptively.'

Jo Grant was smiling up at him. He nodded in acknowledgement and looked back at Legislator Gar'ah'd. Jo tightened her grip on the Doctor's hand in encouragement as Gar'ah'd spoke.

'Doctor . . . my friend . . . that is all behind us. I, my courtiers, indeed the whole of Pakha owes you a great debt. A little deception to win our confidence is hardly a crime.' The legislator raised his hands high and spread his arms wide, his cloak billowing out behind him like a grey sail caught in a sudden wind.

'My People,' he bellowed. 'My People, two days ago we witnessed great salvation for Pakha. Let us use the wisdom, the honour and the knowledge that our new friends have given us. Let us cast aside the shadows of our dark past. Tomorrow a new age begins for us - literally. A new calendar, a new era and a new challenge.' He paused, and looked the Doctor straight in the eye. The Doctor shook his head, a little sadly, and after a few seconds Legislator Gar'ah'd continued his proclamation, his face and voice never betraying the disappointment he felt.

Our friends, the Doctor and Jo Grant, are leaving us. They shall, however, be forever remembered. I have failed to convince them to stay and help us further, but that is their right. They have shown us how to be an equal People; a People who must put aside the wrongs of war, bitterness resentment and envy. The Pakha of yesterday is dead. The Pakha of tomorrow is upon us. Tonight, we celebrate! We cannot allow our guests to leave without showing them our hospitality.' Gar'ah'd lowered his voice slightly, almost as if embarra.s.sed by his admission. 'We showed little on their arrival and that nearly cost us our civilization. Now is the time to make amends!'

As Gar'ah'd finished, there was a second's pause, followed by an ear-shattering roar of approval from the attending Pakhars: warriors and pacifists alike.

Turning toward them, Jo glowed with pride as amongst the throng she saw old, cynical Ho'gah'th the warrior grasp hands with and then hug Nu'b'ld the young peaceseeking rebel Jo had felt such kins.h.i.+p with. If those two could become comrades, then she knew that she and the Doctor had truly succeeded in enlightening the planet and its people. She smiled as Nu'b'ld looked up at her and grinned, his whiskers twitching excitedly. Jo couldn't quite rid herself of the thought that the Pakhars reminded her of four-foot-tall guinea-pigs, but she had so far managed to curb her instinct to tickle them behind their little ears or stroke them under the chin.

The Doctor bent down and whispered in her ear: 'Jo, do you want to stay for the feast? We don't have to if you'd rather go. I know that Nu'b'ld has been. . .'

Jo laughed. A pest? I think I can cope with him.

Anyway, I think Ho'gah'th will keep him occupied most of the evening as they swap stories of gallantry!'

The Doctor looked at Jo, dressed in the long white dress which Gar'ah'd had made her a present of. 'Should you choose to leave us,' he had said a few days earlier, 'you will always have something to remember your great deeds by. Take it with the love and thanks of the Pakhars,' he had finished.

Jo had curtsied in the proper Pakhar manner and thanked the legislator.

As the Doctor stared at his young companion he realized for the first time that the young girl who had literally blundered into his life, wrecking months of solidstate micro-welding, had grown up. Josephine Grant was rapidly becoming a confident, well-adjusted young woman.

'Hey, c'mon Doctor. We don't want to miss a groovy party now, do we?'

Jo's face was alight with enthusiasm and the Doctor found himself smiling at the encouragement.

All right then, but we mustn't get away too late tomorrow.'

'Deal!' Jo shook the Doctor's hand in mock solemnity and started pulling him towards the vast banqueting hall within the fortress.

Gar'ah'd scurried forward. I am saddened by your decision, Doctor, but I respect your reasons. In case my duties prevent me from doing so later, I truly thank you for your help.'

The Doctor freed himself from Jo's grasp and she skipped away, having already spotted Nu'b'ld and Ho'gah'th and decided it was time to join in with their chatter.

The Time Lord gazed at Gar'ah'd in admiration. 'You have great leaders.h.i.+p qualities, my friend. You don't need me here.'

'With the Diadem removed, our planet will never be at war again. The grat.i.tude I offer you cannot be measured.' Gar'ah'd shrugged. 'But I must apologize. I am embarra.s.sing you.'

'No. No., not embarra.s.sment. I was just thinking. Hoping that no one ever tries to find it.'

The ravine was many hundreds of spans deep, Doctor. The legends say it is bottomless. Some, like Ho'gah'th, believe it leads directly to the Heart of Pakha, where the fabled Daemon Mianik'ha lives. If he indeed now has the Diadem, he is most welcome to wear it!'

The Doctor held up a warning finger. 'Don't make light of it so easily, Legislator. The power contained within the object's gems is enormous.

Vor'r'na was just another victim of its power. He might have tried to enslave you all through the Diadem's ability to amplify his will, but ultimately, it was the Diadem's doing.'

Gar'ah'd's whiskers twitched in the way that the Doctor had come to recognize as concern. 'You still believe it was a living lifeform itself?'

The Doctor nodded slowly, again rubbing his neck as he thought about the headpiece. I'm not sure. And hopefully neither I nor anyone else ever will be. Jo and I encountered something similar once before and it took a concentrated explosion of nerve gases to destroy it. Whatever secrets the Diadem has, it now shares them with the ravine... and 1 hope it stays that way.'

The two friends looked at each other, then Gar'ah'd clasped the Doctor's hands in his tiny paws and shook them vigorously. 'May both our futures be bright, fruitful and above all, Diademless!' Laughing, they followed Jo's lead and headed into the festival.

Hundreds of spans beneath the surface of Pakha, the Diadem lay, battered and dented, and lost to sight. But the power within the multicoloured gem stones that adorned it was not dead.

Merely recuperating . . .

PART TWO

CONTEMPORARY.

1: Unknown and Hostile

Pakha: 384.759 (new calendar)

'The world of Pakha is a peaceful blue/green planet, roughly the size of Earth's moon. Many hundreds of years of tranquility have established a Earth's moon. Many hundreds of years of tranquility have established a new order - a peaceful trading planet, loved by interplanetary rovers and new order - a peaceful trading planet, loved by interplanetary rovers and scholars alike. A planet rich in tradition and heritage. The Galactic scholars alike. A planet rich in tradition and heritage. The Galactic Federation took Pakha under its benign ever-enveloping wing some fifty Federation took Pakha under its benign ever-enveloping wing some fifty years ago, creating new opportunities for the planet's limp economy and, years ago, creating new opportunities for the planet's limp economy and, without exploitation, turned it into something of a tourist's dream. Because without exploitation, turned it into something of a tourist's dream. Because so many other worlds sent their researchers there, the planet is rich in so many other worlds sent their researchers there, the planet is rich in museums and libraries, colleges and galleries. Art and entertainment from museums and libraries, colleges and galleries. Art and entertainment from a hundred other worlds are frequently exhibited there, and between every a hundred other worlds are frequently exhibited there, and between every Pakhar trader or citizen, you can find ten offworlders come to see a show, Pakhar trader or citizen, you can find ten offworlders come to see a show, examine some paintings or hear readings of new and ancient literature. Of examine some paintings or hear readings of new and ancient literature. Of course, these offworlders are accepted with customary grace and cheer by course, these offworlders are accepted with customary grace and cheer by the Pakhars, not because they feel they have to, but because they want to. the Pakhars, not because they feel they have to, but because they want to.

Pakha and its people really are, in every sense of the word, nice.'

Extract from 'Planetary Surveys' by Pol Kohnel CAD 3948 Bowketts Universal Publications . . however, behind every bright facade, every garish exhibition and every apparent charm, there lurks something dark and evil. Nowhere in the apparent charm, there lurks something dark and evil. Nowhere in the universe is exempt. Least of all, Pakha.' universe is exempt. Least of all, Pakha.'

Extract from A Rough Guide to Federation Tourist Traps' by Krymson LePlante (DAD 3948 Hearn Pamphlets Inc.

Safety. Damajina had to find safety.

Behind her she knew her pursuers grew closer. They were human - their biology was more adept than hers at continual chase.

As Damajina ran, she instinctively checked that the laser disc was still secure in her pouch. It was, and next to it, the clip blaster she had 'borrowed' from the Cantryan Emba.s.sy. Her mind raced to keep up with her body: should she stop and fight, or keep going until she found sanctuary? Would they slaughter her or hold her for torture? Most importantly, would it hurt?

Almost tripping over her ankle-length dress - had she known someone was going to try and kill her, she'd have worn something less formal - she threw herself around a corner and forced herself to stop. She was right in the heart of the market area - lots of cover and lots of people. They wouldn't dare shoot here. Then again, the Pakhars would be surprised enough at a Cantryan official running in the heat of day; she rather doubted a few trigger-happy humans would be a much bigger surprise.

Ignoring the astonished stares and outraged gasps of the locals, Jina dashed straight toward the middle of the market. Instinctively she knew that the men behind had spotted her and so, cursing loudly to make the Pakhars move, she weaved in and out of the colourful stands, occasionally sending innocent shoppers sprawling, drawing in all probability far more attention than she could afford. d.a.m.n it, Jina thought, she wasn't employed for this. A librarian, a Cantryan n.o.ble here to study ancient Pakha history, not a spy. Why was she letting herself be chased? Why not just give them what they wanted? Of course, if she didn't know the answer to those questions, why was she carrying a gun?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of an archaic tram-bus silently gliding along the road. Yes, if she could reach that, she'd get back to the Library faster - mind you, a flyer and they'd never catch her up. Pakhar public transport was not famous for its speed or reliability. However if they did follow her, they wouldn't dare start a scene in such a respected building as the Library. No, she was being naive. Or was it desperation? She was already aware that the three humans had no regard for Pakhar procedure or heritage. No, her only real hope was to get there first and get her information home quickly.

A shout distracted her. One of the humans, a somewhat bulky specimen she knew was called Pegg, was accusing her of theft. Yes, a d.a.m.n shrewd move on his part. The moralistic Pakhars would immediately try to stop her.

Sure enough, seconds later a pair of paws reached out for her but they weren't prepared for her smooth orange skin, oily through unfamiliar exertion, and so she easily slipped free. The second human, the small, gaunt O'Brien, was now running parallel with her, on the other side of the stalls. The third man whom she didn't know - her only glimpse of him earlier had been of an obviously masculine body, his face s.h.i.+elded from the sunlight by a small peaked cap - was nowhere to be seen.

The tram was nearer. If she ran as fast as she could, she might just leap upon it. Not much further . . .

Beside her a woman browser let out a shrill scream. Ignoring the intense pain in her eardrums, the Cantryan turned. Pegg, his blaster aimed and presumably primed, was facing her now in a straight line between the stalls. Her head darted from side to side, but she saw no immediate escape. If she wasn't careful, O'Brien would cut her off at the other end.

She gambled, adrenaline taking over her motive responses where upbringing, logic and tradition had ceased.

She stopped dead. 'Yes?' she called sweetly.

Pegg looked as if he'd expected anything but submission. He faltered and that gave her inspiration. Hand darting into her pouch, she brought out the clip blaster, firing immediately. Pegg's face took on an expression of total disbelief as a majority of his lower abdomen showered over nearby screaming shoppers. Without even waiting for the body to hit the ground, she hurled herself into the centre of a stall, sending jewels and bric-a-brac everywhere.

Alerted by the blaster fire, O'Brien swung into the narrow walkway between the stalls. He expected to see Pegg triumphantly celebrating a victory.

What he actually saw was a group of people around a body. It certainly wasn't the Cantryan's, and sure enough the crash of a nearby stall's contents spilling over took his attention towards his quarry. Snarling he followed. His leader was standing with the crowd, making a subtle gesture agreeing to continue the chase.

O'Brien smiled - the Cantryan would be exhausted by now. Her thin blood ought to be boiling with the excessive activity. He became aware of an approaching tram-bus and he saw the distinctive shape of the Cantryan board it. He went for his gun but a firm hand grabbed his wrist, keeping it low.

'Not here - too open.' The leader indicated with his head a police patrol were arriving to take care of Pegg's corpse. ''There'll be no questions asked,' he added quietly, 'I've seen to that.'

'And her?'

The leader took off his cap and smiled, his eyes glinting in the sun. 'Don't you worry about the young duenna. She's mine.'

O'Brien watched as the leader strode purposefully off in the direction the tram-bus had taken. He shrugged and turned back towards the market. The Pakha police and a medical unit were taking away the body and a few blood-splattered and hysterical Pakhars. One of the police officers turned to make his way toward O'Brien but was stopped by another. O'Brien saw an exchange of words and both rodents wandered off. It seemed his leader was as good as his word.

Duenna Damajina disembarked from the tram-bus outside Pakha's Central Library.

Quietly and with as much dignity as possible she wandered in, just as she did on any other day. The diminutive Pakhar commissionaire discreetly ignored her sweat-stained dress and mumbled his traditionally respectful greeting. Ignoring the entrance to her own office, Jina instead went straight into the public area.

She glanced around. The Library was as old and crumbling as Pakha itself - yet another thing that had not moved with the times. The place was actually full of paper books! Seated at various desks and flat-screen computer consoles was a largely Pakhar collection of scholars and interested parties. A few Federation archaeologists and historians representing other worlds were present, but all thankfully ignored her and got on with their work. Jina headed for a public booth and took the laser disc from her leather pouch.

Carefully weighing the tiny 75mm disc, she looked around and then furtively punched up her Federation Emergency code. How she wished for a Federation Standard system - she could run her adapted finger-net over the microfield on her temple and using the instant access that afforded just tell the net to do what she wanted instead of having to type things onto an archaic keyboard.

The screen in front of her glowed green and a line of words appeared across it, welcoming her to IFEM. At the prompt she typed her Federation pa.s.sword and seconds later the screen informed her she was .

Jina looked towards the door. There was no sign of O'Brien or the other man. She slipped the disc into the humming drive and a second later it was registered as accepted. Although the process only took seconds, it seemed forever. Back home it would have been a Neysc.r.a.pe, and she could have just got on with it; placed her finger onto the DNA scan and mentally beamed her thoughts back. All this was taking up valuable time but no matter how much progress the Pakhars took on board from the Federation, they moved at a pace which suited them rather than her! Jina knew that her pursuers couldn't be too far behind. Nor was it very likely that they wouldn't work out where she was. Even humans weren't that stupid. In fact, she knew some quite nice humans. . .

Jina was aware that she was breathing heavily, most un-Cantryan n.o.bility-like. Her stubby fingers scrabbled inexpertly over the keypad, sending the relevant codes across millions of miles of the galaxy, back to the Galactic Federation Headquarters on Io.

Her access channel finally registered as and she pressed the key, sending the details of her discoveries stored upon the disc back all the way home. As it started to go, she allowed herself to relax.

O'Brien hadn't found her. All she had to do now was collect her things and get off Pakha. But what of Alec? No, she would have to send him an explanation and apology later. When she was safe. Her father would sort out these troubles.

'Duenna!' hissed an urgent voice from across the way. She almost squealed with joy - it was Alec.

'You're here. My darling, something dreadful has happened!'

Alec looked immediately concerned. 'What?'

Jina steadied her nerves and told him about her flight through the market, her need to send the disc and her subsequent necessary departure. Alec suggested going with her, but Jina shook her head.

'You can't - it might be dangerous. I won't allow you to be endangered. I love you too much.'

Alec smiled and knelt in front of her. 'What would Daddy say if he heard you say that?'

'He'll know.' Jina paused and then continued, I've told him all about you as well. Everything's on the disc. So it won't matter.'

Alec stood up suddenly. 'You've told him what about me, exactly?' His tone was noticeably sharper and louder.

Jina was momentarily fl.u.s.tered. About us. Everything.' She shrugged. It's my responsibility.'

Alec leant across her, to cut off the transmission. 'Good thing that even Inter-Federation electronic mail can be intercepted!' She pulled his hand away.

'No, it has to go. If Father doesn't learn about those men and their plans, Pakhar culture will be totally destroyed. I can't let that happen.'

Alec stood behind her. All this . . . excitement and danger, just for a few ancient cups and a couple of swords.' His hands rested on her shoulders, caressing them slowly. And, of course, the Ancient Diadem.' He felt Jina tense under his ma.s.sage - and he smiled.

Jina watched his reflection in the clear computer screen. Her eyes dropped down to his waist - there, tucked roughly into his belt was a small, black peaked cap. She saw Alec's eyes follow her direction. As his hands stiffened upon her shoulders, sudden, sickening realization dawned upon her.

Oh no . . . no . . . Alec. . .'

' "Oh no Alec",' he mimicked. ' "Alec" isn't my real name, Damajina.' He lowered his head until it was very close to the Cantryan's sensitive ear.

Only a harsh whisper, yet everything he said was painful to Duenna. 'You are a fool. A pretty, dynamic and occasionally very perverse fool. But still a fool.'

I love . . . loved you!' she hissed, still not wanting to disturb the other scholars. 'With my mind, soul and body. You . . . you have betrayed that trust.' Her indignation took precedence over all her other feelings. Except one. Rationality. Her hand dropped into her pouch, gripping the blaster.

'Yes, mind, soul and certainly your body. Now, I'll have that disc out please, before any real damage is done.'

As he reached for the eject b.u.t.ton, he felt Jina squirm to one side. Before he could register what was happening, the console exploded into flames, sending him flying back wards, his face searing in pain. He looked through watery eyes back at the console. The whole area was a ma.s.s of twisted metal and plastic.

Scholars were scrabbling to their feet in alarm as he drew his own blaster and started firing wildly. A Pakhar and a Thorosian dropped instantly, the latter collapsing into its water tank, sending gla.s.s and liquid everywhere.