Part 8 (1/2)

Oh, speak ancient Martian do you? Know how to address a High Lord correctly, without insulting him? I might not know Ogri and Lurmans, Doctor, but Martians are my speciality, remember?'

The Doctor gave a little bow. 'You are right of course,' he said and Bernice desperately tried to hear a trace of sarcasm, but failed.

As she reached the steps, she felt her heart begin to beat fast. She had indeed studied Martian history. Back in the twenty-sixth century, the Martians were known as a warrior race, mostly extinct. She knew that there had been an attempted invasion of Earth back in the late twenty-first century. That had been repelled, and had led to a new era for the Ice Warriors. Realizing that to survive they needed friends, not enemies, they had resettled themselves on a new planet which, naturally, they named New Mars. It had taken many decades, but it was known that gradually a less aggressive Martian hierarchy had succeeded the militaristic one and New Mars ceased being a threat to other worlds. For a second the derogatory term 'Greenies' flashed through her mind. A memory she couldn't place. She'd never actually been to the original Mars, but suddenly she had a vision of skimming across its plains and hills, chased by . . . the Doctor? No, not exactly her memory, someone else's . . . Fred . . .? Who was Fred? She'd have to ask the Doctor about that one.

Bernice had studied the Martians because it was this regression from warring that fascinated her. In such a short s.p.a.ce of time a proud, quite vicious race of warriors had become a reclusive species who rarely allowed visitors to New Mars. Much of what was known, by her time at least, was based on supposition and archaeology on the real Mars, a planet easily colonized by mankind.

The chance to solve some of those mysteries herself well, that was a challenge worth putting up with the Doctor for!

She dashed up the stairs as quickly as possible and ran straight into the green something she had seen earlier.

'Please. Take care.'

The creature in front of her was at least eight feet tall, humanoid and, from what she could see of its skin, came in varying shades of green. A hard material, however, covered most of the creature, like some kind of armour.

Only its arms and legs seemed bare; sparkling, obviously reptilian skin rippled as it moved to stop her. As her eyes went up the k.n.o.bbly body she managed to stop an involuntary shudder as she looked up at the face. Most of the creature's head was encased in some kind of k.n.o.bbled helmet, its eyes concealed behind two protective red gla.s.s coverings. Only the mouth and chin were visible, thin green lips hissing the warning at her. Bernice had seen many pictures and drawings of a Martian ranking warrior, but none of those had quite prepared her for the real thing. She looked down at the hands - encased in ma.s.sive clamplike gloves, made of the same material as the armour. Tufts of fur poked out of the wrist ends, as they did at various other joints in the armour. Nestled on the right wrist was a slender white tube which came to a solid bulbous head just below the fur.

From her studies, she knew this was a Martian sonic disrupter. One of the most lethal weapons ever.

The Martian moved its head as it looked down at her in a vaguely snake-like way, but slower, almost comical, as if it was going to fall off at any moment.

If Bernice had any thoughts about laughing, however, they vanished again as it spoke. The voice hissed at her, as if coming from deep within the huge frame, and yet it was quiet but clear, like air escaping from a punctured tyre.

I said, please take care.'

'Don't worry, I can take care of myself, thank you: The Martian's voice hissed again, barely audible over the sound of its breath.

I apologize. I was concerned that you had not seen the slight drop behind me.'

Bernice looked into the corridor of the Bruk. There was indeed quite a drop to the first inner step, clearly no problem to someone as tall as the Martian, but for her . . . She looked up again at the figure.

'Thank you. The Professor here can be a little enthusiastic!' The Doctor had caught up with her and was also noting the drop.

I am Sskeet. I am High Lord Savaar's adjutant. He is currently in discussion with Marshal Hissel, the Bruk's commander. He says he will join you in the hospitality suite as soon as we are ready for take-off. If you will follow me.' Sskeet breathed in, and Bernice listened to the strange sucking sound - Sskeet was clearly not used to making such long speeches, but seemed pleasant enough.

'Marvellous vessel you have here, Lieutenant Sskeet. The pride of the Federation, I suspect.' The Doctor indicated for Sskeet to lead on.

Sskeet nodded slowly as he plodded ahead of them, leading them along a plush corridor that, Bernice decided, made the Federation headquarters building look dowdy in comparison. It has an honourable history. We are proud that it has been selected for such an important Federation duty.'

And an even more honourable cla.s.s name. Izlyr. I met him once.' The Doctor ran his fingers along one of the picture frames that dotted the walls.

Is there a picture of him aboard?'

Sskeet nodded again. It is in the command area. Perhaps you would like to see it sometime?'

It would be an honour. Is he alive still? It was over a hundred years ago that we met.'

'Supreme Lord lzlyr retired to the planet Bennion about twenty years ago. I believe he is still there.' Sskeet suddenly stopped and indicated a plate on the wall. On it something was written on a plaque in Martian scripture.

Bernice scrutinized it and realized that it said 'Hospitality' or something similar.

Open,' hissed Sskeet. Bernice allowed an eyebrow to raise as part of the wall in front of her, along with the plate, momentarily s.h.i.+mmered. A rectangular s.p.a.ce appeared and she could see into a room, although minuscule flickers of white dotted her vision now and again. The Doctor nodded at Sskeet and wandered through the s.p.a.ce, so Bernice followed.

As he came through, Sskeet again spoke into the air with a firm command of 'Close,' and the wall solidified behind them. 'The computer has evidently not been serviced adequately. I apologize. The engineer for this section will be admonished,' the Martian hissed.

'Not on our behalf, please,' said the Doctor. A few stray molecules never hurt anyone.' He brushed some imaginary door particles off his white jacket. 'There,' he smiled. 'No problems at all.'

Bernice turned three hundred and sixty degrees, looking around the walls of the room and up. It was ma.s.sive, a high ceiling beautifully decorated in pastel greens and quiet reds. Around the warm-looking walls were various decorations and artefacts and directly opposite was a smoked-gla.s.s-lined square recess with touch-sensitive controls above it.

Sskeet pointed towards the controls. 'The servicer will dispense any refreshment you require. It is programmed for Tellurian cuisine as well as one hundred and seventy other Federation delicacies.'

The Doctor sat heavily in one of the lounge chairs, soft cus.h.i.+ons billowing slightly beneath him. 'Sskeet. You have been charming. We will sit here and await High Lord Savaar's presence in comfort. Thank you.'

With a nod Sskeet shuffled out, the door appearing and disappearing around him.

The Doctor pointed to a nearby chaise longue and Bernice sat herself down. 'Nice doors.'

'Holograms?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'No, just a computer controlled refractive molecular arranger. Touch it and you'll find it solid. Keeps the warmth in and others out.' He looked across at it. Open,' he called softly. Sure enough, the s.p.a.ce s.h.i.+mmered into existence and they could see the corridor outside. 'Close,' he said and it vanished. He turned back to Bernice. 'Just checking.'

'So, Doctor,' said Bernice, nodding her head at the wall where the door wasn't any more. 'So that's a Martian is it? Seems perfectly harmless to me.'

Indeed, Benny. But I've had experience of the Ice Warriors before. I know what they're capable of.'

Ice Warriors?'

A name coined about, oh six hundred years ago - after your time. At one point, human archaeologists discovered a long-lost Martian wars.h.i.+p buried deep within a glacier in England.'

A glacier? In England? You're joking! Aren't you?'

'I did say it was after your time. A result of some nasty solar flares.' The Doctor smiled at Bernice's bewilderment. Anyway,' he continued, 'they dug it up and named it an Ice Warrior. Looked just like Sskeet, in fact. Of course, most Martians of that era were like this lot - peaceful, but not Varga's ones.'

'Varga?'

'Leader of this crew. They had crashed on Earth millions of years ago, in the height of their death or glory days. Naturally, he wanted to claim Earth as part of the Martian empire. He never believed us that Mars was an Earth colony and little trace existed there of his people.'

'You told him, I suppose, about New Mars, and the changes?' Bernice realized she didn't need an answer to that. Okay, so you didn't. What happened?'

'Well, there was little reasoning with him, and eventually the humans destroyed him and his s.h.i.+p.'

'You of course, had no part in this murder.'

'Bernice, when you're stuck in a dangerous situation, the decisions you and others around you make don't always bear up under scrutiny, but at the time they seem logical and acceptable.'

Bernice nodded, not entirely convinced. And this one encounter turned you off all of them?'

'Oh no, no. I met them on Peladon the first time I went there and, you'll be pleased to know, had my nose, put severely out of joint. Lord lzlyr -'

Oh, the one you name-dropped earlier?'