The King's Dragon

by Doctor Who

  'How does that justify what you've done here?'

  the Doctor shot back. 'You've terrorised these people! Isn't that what your masters did to you?

  Isn't that how the Bright Nobles ruled you?'

  The alien jerked her hand up in front of her face, as if making a superstitious gesture or warding off a blow. 'Don't say their names to me,'

  she said. 'Don't lecture me about that! You can know nothing about it! The old world, the old order — I lived there! I lived under it!' Her voice became stronger and more passionate. 'If you had lived under their rule, you would understand! Ten 211

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  thousand years in their thrall - a world without change, without hope, even hope of extinction...

  Only Enamour...' On that word, her voice struck a note of deep despair. It was clear to everyone listening where the Regulator's howl originated and what it articulated. The death of hope. 'We meant no harm. But we will not let anyone keep and use Enamour! There will be no more Bright Nobles. Never again!'

  'I understand,' Amy said. She put her hand upon the Doctor's arm. 'Doctor, I saw that world. I felt what it was like. They must have looked down on Geath and seen Enamour spreading out everywhere. They must have been afraid that nobody would pay any attention. If you could cry out like that for ten thousand years and have nobody listen, why would you think anyone was going to listen now?'

  'Amy,' the Doctor said gently, 'when they looked down on Geath from their huge and staggeringly well-equipped ships, weren't they able to see at the same time that there was nothing on this world to equal their technology? Couldn't they see that there was nothing here that could be used as a defence against their firepower? Perhaps they thought all of these people didn't matter enough to treat fairly? Did they see a primitive people and think they could come and take whatever they 212

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  wanted? I hate that. Hate it.'

  'We don't have to agree with what they've done,'

  Amy came back. 'We just have to understand.' She paused. 'And there's the Herald. She'll be back soon. We have to decide what to do with all the metal before the Herald comes back.' Amy's voice became urgent. 'Doctor, I don't think there's anyone standing on this world right now that knows better what Enamour can do than the Regulator and her people. Look at her.' The Regulator looked back, eyes bright with tears. 'I don't think there's anyone standing on this world right now that I'd trust more to take care of it.' She gave the Doctor's arm a squeeze. 'You got I was including you in that, didn't you? Yeah? In case I wasn't clear?'

  'Thank you, yes, I did grasp the wider point,' the Doctor said. To the Regulator, he said, 'I think you should take your hoard and your war elsewhere.'

  The alien bowed her head in acknowledgement. As she turned away, the Doctor raised a finger. 'But.'

  'Doctor...' Amy said warningly.

  'But,' the Doctor said emphatically. The alien swung round to listen. 'Earlier, you issued a series of directives to the people of Geath,' said the Doctor. 'And the people of Geath complied with them all. Now they should come under your jurisdiction. Under your protection. Because the Herald will be 213

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  back and I don't doubt for a second that when she finds out that we have handed the metal over to you, there'll be reprisals. I can't allow that. I can only hope that you won't allow it either.'

  The alien shook her head. 'I'm not authorised to make decisions about the deployment of military force—'

  'What?' the Doctor cried. 'That's not an answer! Is it against protocol or something? Oh, yes, much better to let an entire world of innocent bystanders become charcoal than break some ludicrous little rule—'

  'I'm not authorised to do it,' the alien said and pointed up at the ships, 'but my superior is. You need to talk to her. I can transport you to the ship and you can make your case to her.' She nodded at Amy. 'It might be advisable if you were one of the party.'

  'Come on board one of those ships? Yeah!' Amy nudged the Doctor. 'Someone from Geath should be there too.'

  'Yes, good point.' The Doctor looked wildly around the assembled crowd. The people of Geath stared back uncomprehendingly. 'Who should come? Who here keeps a cool head when faced with almost inexplicable events and has a proven track record of success at high-level diplomatic negotiations?'

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  'That'll be Hilthe,' Rory said at once.

  The Doctor waved his hand in dismissal. 'You always say that.'

  'I think this time he's right,' Amy said.

  The Doctor stared at her, then at Rory. 'I think this time you're right. Where's Hilthe?' He swung round and called out. 'Hilthe! Your moment's come!'

  'So jealous,' muttered Rory.

  'What?' Amy said.

  'You get to see inside one of those dragons.'

  'They're not dragons.'

  'Dragon-ships. Whatever. Still jealous. Officially jealous.'

  'I'll bring you back a souvenir.'

  'Thanks. Urn, nothing gold.'

  The crowd parted to let Hilthe through. The alien conferred briefly with her colleagues via her communicator and then beckoned to Hilthe, Amy, and the Doctor to step forwards.

  'Don't worry,' Amy said to Hilthe, just before the field from the matter transmitter enveloped them.

  'Everything will be fine.'

  'Of course it will,' the old woman said briskly, as if this was an everyday occurrence. 'It's simply a question of finding a form of words acceptable to everyone.'

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  The matter-transmission field stabilised and Amy got her first sight of the interior of the dragon-ship. They had arrived at one end of a long room filled with ranks of desks. Low partitions made of a pearlescent material placed here and there separated small groups of workstations. Occasional pot plants strove to flourish under the unremitting glare of the fluorescent lights. One of these was on the fritz. An elongated humanoid in elongated humanoid overalls stood on a small stepladder beneath it, fiddling with what Amy hoped was not a sonic wrench. 'Doctor, it's a cube farm.'

  'Yes.'

  'Like an office.'

  'Yes.'

  'In space.'

  'Everything's better in space. Office space... Ooh, watch it, here comes the welcome committee.'

  Three aliens approached. They wore smart-casual and distinctly non-military suits in nearly uniform shades of bluish-green.

  The alien in the centre of the group stepped forwards to speak to them. 'My name is Anwa,'

  she said. 'I'm the chief sub-director of Department Four of the Regulatory Board. I'm the senior representative here of the Reconstruction Oversight Committee.'

  Department Four? Amy glanced round. Was 216

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  that the name of the ship? It hardly captured the dramatic splendour of the dragon-ship's exterior.

  The Doctor was right. They were rubbish at names.

  Anwa studied each of them in turn. Her eyes were the colour of amethysts. 'Which of you is senior management?'

  Hilthe rose to the occasion. She swept past the Doctor and Amy, and delivered an elegant and nuanced bow. With great formality, she said, 'My name is Hilthe. I speak for the citizens and the sovereign of Geath. I greet you with amity and I pray that we part in concord.'

  Anwa gravely bowed her head. The two women sized each other up for a moment, and then each gave the other 'I-think-we-can-do-business' smiles.

  Anwa looked at the Doctor. 'And you are...?'

  'Ooh. Good question! I suppose I'm an independent

  observer.

  Yes!

  Like

  that.

  An

  independent observer.' Grandly, he said, 'I shall observe and if pressed I might even provide advice.

  Independent advice. Independence guaranteed.'

  'And you?' Anwa said to Amy.

  'I suppose I'm... the independent observer's lovely assistant.'
r />   Anwa pondered the pair of them for a moment and then gestured with a many-fingered hand for them all to follow her. 'Let's get you signed in.'

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  She led their party over to a desk where temporary passes were issued and signatures and arrival times collected. As this lengthy business and its attendant paraphernalia were sorted out, Anwa took the opportunity to speak to the alien who had brought them up to the ship. They held a brief hurried conference. Amy eavesdropped without compunction.

  'There's going to be an inquiry, of course,'

  Anwa murmured. The other alien's shoulders slumped; her whole demeanour depressed. 'But we're behind you all the way, Camba. The whole department's behind you.'

  'I've been saying for years that something like this was going to happen,' Camba hissed. 'But all I ever get back is — ooh, well, Protocol Nine Six One was established for a reason, can't go messing about with it. Well, I've had it with Nine Six One. I'm not going to operate under these constraints again! This is supposed

  to

  be

  a

  professional

  organisation!

  Professional? It's a shambles!'

  'We'll sort it out,' Anwa whispered. 'Start filing your report. They'll do away with Nine Six One this time round, I promise.' She turned back to her guests. 'All done? Let's proceed.'

  'I wish we'd brought the Teller,' Amy whispered to the Doctor as they followed Anwa through the office.

  Elongated people peered over the partitions, 218

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  trying to get a good look at the alien visitors. 'He would have loved this!'

  'He doesn't need to see it.' The Doctor tapped his forehead. 'It's up here already.'

  'Hey, Doctor, did you hear them talking about that Protocol Nine One Wotsit?'

  'Nine Six One. Yes. Shush. Working on it.'

  Anwa led them into a meeting room dominated by a huge round table. They all shuffled round and took their seats. In the centre of the table there was a pile of a pens and a plate of sandwiches. Amy nudged the Doctor. 'Are they sandwiches? Can you get sandwiches in space?'

  'Why wouldn't you get sandwiches in space?

  They're very convenient.'

  'Doctor! Space sandwiches! I'm having one of those!'

  Amy reached to take one. The alien sitting beside her yelled, 'Don't eat that!'

  Amy yanked her hand back. 'Why what's wrong with it?'

  'They're stale.' He was faintly embarrassed. 'If I'd known sooner we were getting visitors, I'd have got some more sent up.' He paused for a moment, thoughtfully. 'Maybe some cake.'

  Anwa took her seat and called the meeting to order. 'If I can begin by offering, on behalf of all members of the Department, our deepest 219

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  regrets as to how events unfolded this evening,'

  she said, apparently sincerely. 'The Department prides itself on the professional service that it offers and I personally assure you that we shall be undergoing a thorough investigation in order to determine exactly the errors that were made and how such errors can be avoided in the future up to and including a thorough re-examination and potentially

  even

  revision

  of

  all

  relevant

  procedures.'

  Hilthe - who had been looking increasingly baffled through this short speech - said, 'You mean you're sorry our soldier is dead, and you're going to do your best that nothing like that happens again?'

  Anwa blinked. 'Yes. That's what I mean.'

  Hilthe raised an eyebrow.

  'The Department's sorry,' Anwa said. 'I'm sorry,'

  she added quietly.

  Hilthe nodded slowly. 'On behalf of the citizens of Geath,' she said gravely, 'I accept that apology. I believe our, er, independent adviser,' she nodded at the Doctor, 'has already pointed out that much suffering and distress could have been avoided if you had simply approached us in a more, ah, conventional manner. Could my protest be noted for the record?' Hilthe glanced around. 'We are keeping a record of this meeting, aren't we?'

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  The Doctor whipped out a spiral red and black notebook and proceeded to scribble away in what Amy assumed would be flawless shorthand. The alien on the other team carrying out the same task leaned over and whispered, 'Doesn't your assistant do that?'

  'Shocking handwriting,' he said back, traducing Amy without shame. 'Don't know what these schools do with them for all that time.'

  The alien tutted and shook her head. 'League tables,' she said darkly and went back to her minutes.

  'Your protest is noted,' Anwa said to Hilthe.

  'Then let us begin,' Hilthe said.

  The whole meeting took slightly under an hour; what that was in standard time units, Amy couldn't say. Her attention drifted once or twice, chiefly to the prints that were hanging on the walls, which depicted jaw-droppingly dramatic alien landscapes. Ebony waves crashed upon silver shores. Vast bridges connected huge towers, built from metals Amy could not name and with engineering she could not guess at. Presumably these pictures looked bland through the eyes of the people here and served chiefly to soothe the nerves during a long afternoon.

  By the end of the meeting, Hilthe had negotiated temporary status for Geath as an associate member 221

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  of the Reconstruction Oversight Committee, with all the rights, privileges, and protections arising from that status. In lay terms, that made Geath and the Reconstruction allies, and the gunships would remain in local space for the duration of the crisis.

  'I have another request to make,' Anwa said. 'I will understand if you refuse. It would help if one of your people could summon the Herald again, rather than one of the regulatory team. We've learned from experience that Heralds are able to detect if one of our species is summoning them.'

  'That seems acceptable to me,' said Hilthe.

  'Doctor, you do still have that ring?'

  The Doctor put down his pen. 'I do - but you should think twice before putting it on again, Mother.' He glanced at Anwa. 'This encounter will be for real this time, won't it?'

  Anwa nodded.

  'For real?' said Hilthe. 'Was it not real before?

  Explain, please, Doctor - for one who may lack the detailed knowledge to understand how such tricks occur, but who does not lack wits.'

  'Each time the Herald has appeared before,' the Doctor explained, 'she's been a projection. She used you - and Amy - as a means of communication.'

  'We were her mouthpieces,' Hilthe said, nodding.

  'That's right. But this time she'll take full shape.

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  And whoever is holding that ring will become the channel through which the Herald will pass on her way to taking that shape.'

  'I'll do it, Doctor,' Amy said.

  'No you will not do it,' Hilthe and the Doctor said simultaneously.

  'No, my dear,' Hilthe continued. 'It is Geath that has made this alliance. Geath requires this protection, and therefore Geath will provide this service. And since I am the one that the Herald chose as most likely to share her mind and be persuaded by her appeal, I shall be the one through whom she will pass.' She reached for Amy's hand. 'But I would hear your counsel, for you have defeated her once already.' She drew Amy aside.

  The Doctor turned to Anwa. 'Protocol Nine Six One,' he said. 'Rules dictating appropriate forms of interaction with species designated as falling below standards set for extraterrestrial contact. Rubbish protocol. Don't care what you do - reform it, redraft it, dump it - but next time you find a spot of Enamour on a pre-industrial world, talk to them! If they're not ready to accept you as aliens, they'll assume you're fairies or enchanters or something.

  Might try and burn you, but your armour should get you out of that. Anyway, drop Protocol Nine Six One. If you need to talk to them, they should k
now who you really are.' He wrinkled his nose.

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  'Non-interference? Prime Directives? So twenty-third century. All a bit retro. And not in a good way.'

  'You know it's a poor protocol, Doctor,' Anwa replied, 'and I know it's a poor protocol, and Camba certainly knows it - but try telling my boss.'

  The Doctor ripped some pages from his spiral notepad. They were full of closely written notes.

  'My independent advice. Been to a lot of places, made a lot of first contacts. Try that on your boss.'

  Softly, he said, 'Your case stands or falls on its own merits, Anwa. No need to go around terrifying people.'

  Anwa took the sheets of paper with a grateful smile.

  'I do have one request to make in return,' the Doctor said. 'But first of all - tell me what plans you have for the Herald once you've taken her.'

  'We have a procedure for that, Doctor—'

  'Yes, I'm sure you do, but you have to admit that not all your procedures have been terribly well thought-through.'

  'Fair comment.' Anwa gave a dry smile. 'We'll take her home. She'll be imprisoned, but only for as long as her dependence on Enamour lasts. We have people who will work with her to help her, a whole Rehabilitation Board —'

  'So you won't execute her.'

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  Anwa recoiled. 'We're not murderers, Doctor!'

  'But you will use force to capture her?'

  'We'll have to. As soon as she knows we're here, she'll come out fighting.'

  'Then I must have the chance to speak to her.' The Doctor's voice was low and earnest. 'To reason with her. Make her understand. Because there's a city full of people down there that she can turn on. I don't want them hurt. But most of all, I want to talk to her because I think she doesn't know.'

  Amy, overhearing, gave him a puzzled look.

  'Doesn't know what?'

  'That the Bright Nobles are dead,' the Doctor said. 'That none of them survived.'

  Startled, Amy said, 'But she said they were coming!'