Part 18 (2/2)

Later, back in his room, Fitz could hardly contain himself. He laughed, he shouted, he cried, not caring who heard. Not caring that they thought he was mad to be so elated over doing a bit of work on the moon. They didn't know what he knew. They didn't know they were all going to die and he was getting out of here!

A moment of guilt. Should he tell them? Tell them that, in a few days, Yquatine was going to be destroyed? No if he did, they would probably take him off the work detail, send him to the psychiatric wing. Then there would be no escape and he'd die along with the rest of them.

He walked up to his window. It was a beautiful Yquatine summer's day. Even the blighted exercise ground looked cheery: small weeds had pushed their way through the cracks and produced bright spots of colour, welcoming the sun.

The sight both cheered and depressed Fitz. h.e.l.l, this was driving him b.l.o.o.d.y crazy! Total Ca.s.sandra complex, only worse. The Ca.s.sandra of legend was doomed to know the future with not a soul believing her. Fitz was doomed to know the future and dare not tell anybody in case he brought about that future.

He looked at the small weeds as they drank in the sun. For the first time in weeks, he thought of Arielle really thought of her, her long honey-coloured hair, the way she'd roll her eyes, the photo of her as a teenager. If she was still in her coma she was as helpless as these plants, rooted in the Yquatine soil, unable to move. He couldn't help the tears and he let them flow freely down his face.

Interlude 2 Eternal FEAR Compa.s.sion was doomed to travel for ever, never going where she wanted, never knowing where she would materialise next. She would never see the Doctor or Fitz again.

After escaping the Anthaurk, she'd tumbled through the vortex, not knowing what to do. She hadn't accomplished anything on New Anthaur. She'd tried to make the Anthaurk see reason, tried to turn them away from war, but it was in their blood. They were a species so steeped in warfare that to Compa.s.sion it was a miracle that there had been a century of peace in the Minerva System. She shelved all thoughts of testing her powers, trying to alter the future. That would have to wait. Her main priority was the mastering of the Randomiser circuit. She had to gain control.

She quickly found that this was going to be extremely difficult, if not impossible. The Randomiser was now so deeply embedded that she couldn't enter or leave the vortex without activating the foreign circuit. When dematerialising, it would drag her into the vortex, already trying to send her to some random destination. If she acted quickly enough she could momentarily cut power to all her circuits, including the Randomiser, and she could drift in the vortex for a while. This seemed to be the only way to temporarily bypa.s.s the thing, and it was dangerous, frightening like dying for a brief, fleeting moment but it was the only way she could prevent herself from being dragged screaming to an unknown destination.

And so the s.p.a.ce-time vortex became her only place of refuge. Some refuge. Drifting in the vortex wasn't pleasant, or maybe she wasn't used to it, or maybe only non sentient TARDISes could stand it, which was why they were nonsentient. It was as though her eyes had been scooped out and replaced by a million kaleidoscoping mirrors. She could stand it only so much, so she had to materialise somewhere. But every time she tried to set coordinates, begin to focus her mind and energies on the task, the Randomiser would kick in, wresting control away, taking her to a destination chosen blindly from an infinity of possibilities. She'd find herself thrust to the rear of her own mind, relegated to the back seat, while the Randomiser took control.

And so she'd find herself in the middle of a situation she'd immediately have to deal with or escape from. Or sometimes just some slab of rock in s.p.a.ce, but the Randomiser seemed annoyingly attracted to inhabited planets and dangerous situations. The first trip after New Anthaur had taken her to a smoke-choked trench in the middle of a war zone, sh.e.l.ls exploding frighteningly near, splattering her cloak with mud She'd got out of that one quick Focus, Engage, Artron surge. Randomiser (not that she could control the last). Then, a jagged, hurtling, airless asteroid. No point hanging round there, so FEAR. Then in the middle of a board meeting, the congregation of suits and haircuts all gaping at her as she materialised in the middle of their great big s.h.i.+ny table. How embarra.s.sing. FEAR. Then somewhere dazzlingly bright and hot, where incredible creatures like flower-headed lions in armour plating reared up over her. FEAR. Then on a damp gra.s.sy hillside, having her face licked by a giant singing b.u.t.terfly. Nice, for a while. But then, FEAR.

And other places, other times, with no control over where she was going. The maddening thing was she knew there must be a way to bypa.s.s the Randomiser. It was, surely, supposed to work in conjunction with her, so that it would activate only when she wanted it to. Surely the Doctor didn't intend an endless, crazy flight through Time and s.p.a.ce with no idea where he was going next. That was madness. There had to be a way around the Randomiser, but she was too new, she didn't know enough about herself, to be able to find it. And maybe she never would. She'd done everything she could to expunge it. but every time she touched it she drowned in pain.

Once she'd found herself in a human child's bedroom at night. A small room with a bunk bed, festooned with football posters and cluttered with toy cars and games. She'd watched the little boy sleeping, so peaceful, so innocent, so free, wondering what it was like to mother a child. She'd remained there for quite a while, until reluctantly consigning herself once more to the infinite golden throat of the vortex. FEAR.

And so she flew through the vortex again, growing ever more desperate. Maybe, if she travelled for long enough, she'd eventually b.u.mp into the Doctor or Fitz, or someone who could help her. But that may not be for centuries, or longer. Until then, FEAR, FEAR, FEAR, FEAR, FEAR, FEAR.

Chapter Eighteen.

'We don't need your help anymore'

The Doctor and President Vargeld stood on the observation deck of s.p.a.cedock One and watched as the s.h.i.+ps prepared to leave for Yquatine.

'I still think this is a bad idea, you know,' said the Doctor gently.

'Say that again and I'll have you locked up,' said the President lightly.

The Doctor glanced at him. His jaw was set, resolute, his gaze fixed on the departing fleets. 'You don't trust me, do you? Why is that?' President Vargeld didn't move or speak. 'You think I'm still in the thrall of the Omnethoth, don't you? Well. I'm not.' He sighed. 'You have to believe me.'

'I don't trust you because I don't know you.' The President turned to face the Doctor. 'You say you were at my inauguration. but I've checked. No one matching your description was there.

The Doctor scratched his nose. 'Yes, well...'

President Vargeld continued. 'You turn up from nowhere, and swan around acting like you're in control. Well. I'm in control.' He pointed at the departing s.h.i.+ps. 'I'm taking action.'

'Well, it's the wrong action!' said the Doctor hotly. His voice became earnest. 'Let me try out my theory on our captive Omnethoth.'

'Station scientists are carrying out their own tests.' said the President smoothly.

The Doctor folded his arms. 'Yes, well that's very nice. but I could do in minutes what would probably take them weeks.'

A half-smile twisted across Vargeld's face. 'We'll see.'

Something moved at the edge of the Doctor's vision and he turned to see a fleet of Anthaurk s.h.i.+ps speeding into the night, departing from a s.p.a.cedock further along the crescent of Aloysius. Even they had agreed to help in the bombardment of Yquatine, all hostility apparently forgotten. Or so it seemed. The Doctor was keeping a watchful eye on the Anthaurk for all he knew, it could have been they who had discovered the Omnethoth, found out what it was and used it as a weapon. They were a fiercely militaristic race. It was a possibility.

'You know, I've been thinking,' said the President, half to himself, 'about what someone said to me, a month or so ago. Something about Yquatine being attacked, destroyed. It's been bugging me. How did he know?'

The Doctor watched the Anthaurk s.h.i.+ps recede into invisibility, Vargeld's words floating about the edges of his perception. Something about them set alarm bells ringing.

As if in a daze, he turned to the President, grabbing his arm. 'Who told you that?'

The President pulled away. 'A prisoner.'

The Doctor waggled his fingers in front of the President's face, as if trying to tickle the words out of him. 'Tell me more!'

The President's youthful face grew hard, truculent. 'What?'

The Doctor put on his most disarming smile and most relaxed, casual manner. 'Sounds interesting, I mean. Someone being able to tell the future like that.'

President Vargeld remained noncommittal. 'Maybe it was a lucky guess.'

Oh, open up, man! The gravity of the situation the possible damage to the timelines made it impossible for the Doctor to relax. 'Maybe, but this could be very, very important. Please, I need to know more. What was his name?'

President Vargeld's look hardened. He clearly had no love for this prisoner. 'His name was Fitz Kreiner.'

The Doctor felt as if he had been rooted to the spot by a shaft of ice. A picture was forming in his mind, like a half-remembered nightmare. Something he would rather not face. He rubbed his hands together, trying to regain his composure. 'Fitz Kreiner is a friend of mine. Where is he now?'

'A friend of yours?' Vargeld looked at the Doctor sharply, his voice suddenly hoa.r.s.e with anger. 'You're telling me you were mixed up with what he did?'

'Just tell me where he is now!' bellowed the Doctor.

'He's nowhere now.'

The Doctor feared the worst. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean that as far as I know he was still in Yendip Internment Centre on the day of the attack. He would have died along with everyone else.'

Vargeld sounded pleased. The Doctor closed his eyes. Another companion gone. Hope was a stupid thing. The glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel that was either the oncoming train or the torturer returning for a another session. He opened his eyes. 'What was he in prison for?'

'He kidnapped Arielle. Took her away from me. I never found out what was really going on.' A sigh between clenched teeth. 'Suppose I'll never know.'

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