of the crew were assembled there.
He removed his helmet and found Amy. She was still in
her spacesuit. She was baffled.
'They can't see us. What's happening, Doctor? Where are
we? Who was that?'
'You've met the Boys before. The Chaos Kids and Captain
Abberley pulled us out of trouble. We're still in the Second
Aether, running parallel to the ship's regular course but a
scale or two over. We can't stay here much longer. Quelch
knows about the Regulator, I'm sure. He might even have
it. Or maybe he knows where it is and he's just biding his
time. But we can't follow him - well have to leave it to the
Bubbly Boys. They're after Force too. Those ships of theirs
can morph and warp in this stuff, but we need to be back in
the First Aether. I think we've just about survived the storm.
Good. The kids are all right. We're there.'
He signed to her to come with him as he made his way
to where the captain and his officers were conferring. He
told them quickly what had happened. 'I got us through the
storm. We can go into Fall as soon as we're out of here. Is that
OK with you?'
'Fall? Are you sure we have enough thrust to pull us free
once we're there?' The captain was studying hastily thrown
up power screens.
'I'm fairly sure.' The Doctor lost his balance for a moment
and steadied himself.
'We've leaked a lot of power, Doctor. There's colour
dripping from half the tanks. Our protective shields are
buzzing, which means they're working at half-power or less.
How do I know there isn't a fleet of enemy ships back there
just waiting to attack?'
'Because there isn't. I have one friendly ship keeping
an eye on us and there are some others that might not be
particularly friendly but will probably support us because
they don't like Frank/Freddie Force.'
'Is that who attacked us?'
'No. We were trapped in a space-time super storm, that's
all. It shouldn't have caught us because it shouldn't have been
in this region, but it did and that's all there is to it. Dark tides
running. I told you. No other regular ship could possibly
have survived. But this one lived up to her reputation.'
'Can we still make it to Miggea?'
'I hope so. Get the screens in place so we can see what's
going on outside. As many as possible. The storm has to have
passed us or we quite simply wouldn't be here any more.'
'We're safe then?'
'At least until another storm comes. We'll have to run ahead
of that one if it finds us.'
Amy said: 'If we're safe in the Second Aether, why can't
we stay here?'
'Because we're almost out of the Second Aether and we're
not designed for it, Amy. Those Second Aether ships survive
by constantly changing shape. Adaptation's the name of
their game. That's the way they move. Not because they have
enemies to deceive but because the rules of time and space
are different here. Everything flows, remakes itself, alters its
constituents. If, like us, it kept the same appearance the space
would essentially harden around it, crushing it. Can't you
hear that creaking now? They go with the flow. And look at
those prediction charts! We're going to break apart if we stay
in this area of space. In our own space-time we can probably
limp on to Miggea, or another system if we have to, and get
help there. It might be possible to put all the passengers off
and then make a dash back to Desiree, where we could be
decently patched up. As it is, we just about have enough
food, fuel and equipment to make it to our destination.'
Although the captain commanded a luxury liner now, there
had been a time when he had been in charge of warships. He
knew the Doctor was telling the truth.
'So how do I do it? How do I get us out of one space-time
continuum and into another?'
'If you'll let me take over your controls, captain, I think I
can do it for you.'
'Be my guest, Doctor.'
Either the captain trusted the Doctor implicitly or he had
no options left. He stood back as the Doctor and his friend got
into the high-speed elevator which would take them rapidly
to the control deck.
Almost everything the captain had believed was now in
question. His first duty remained to his passengers and his
ship. This strange man and woman in their retro costumes
were now the only hope he had.
Chapter 18
Captain Cornelius, the Pirate
'THAT'S IT, I THINK.' The Doctor leaned forward in his seat, slipping
the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket and staring
hopefully up at the screen. They had emerged in an area of
space which was crowded with stars, rich with flickering
golds and silvers, with quivering rubies and emeralds, with
every kind of planet and satellite.
'Looks beautiful, doesn't it? And now we've got to find
our original sector. The storm will have passed by now. I
love this part of space, don't you? We've shifted a fair bit
from our original position, but at least we're almost out of
the Second Aether.'
'So what's happening, Doctor?' Amy was determined to
get some answers. 'It's serious, isn't it?'
'Oh, yes.'
She waited, but he didn't elaborate.
'So why is it serious, Doctor?'
Like her, he had still not taken off his spacesuit, though
neither now wore a helmet. He sighed, staring at the V on
which pictures of outer space flicked and refocused.
'You know how we - my people, that is - can - could - live
a very long time, don't you?'
'You sort of explained it, but I didn't really understand.
Kind of like some reptiles or insects...?'
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, he grinned.
'You make parthenogenesis sound so attractive.' He touched
a screen to bring up another sector. 'Well, that form of
regeneration is also what the universe does. In fact it's not just
the universe but all scales of the multiverse. Some cultures
have observed this without fully understanding it. They
call it the Great ReCreation, the Conjunction of the Million
Spheres - all sorts of fanciful names. At a natural point in her
cycle, the multiverse begins a process of recreation to make
herself afresh. There is an exchange, of sorts. Some matter
becomes antimatter; Law becomes Chaos - everything - well
almost everything - is "reversed": This happens so slowly
most sentient creatures hardly notice it. Evolution. Some
intelligences will often work out what's happening. It's not a
secret. It's a constant, ongoing process and it guarantees our
existence - multiversal immortality, if you like.'
'So, it's not exactly immortality. Not the kind where we
remember all that we've learned or all that's happened...'
'Right. Not that kind. Even Time Lords couldn't recall
everything from a former existence. I certainly can't. Anyway,
that's the
fundamentals of life and regeneration in the
multiverse. It's a fine equilibrium, regulated by what some
people call the Balance, a semi-abstract visualisation which
can be said to act like the beam, fulcrum and pans on an
ordinary pair of old-fashioned scales to maintain everything
in equilibrium.'
'I'm still having a hard time getting my head around it.'
'Well, to put it as simply as I can, somehow, through
interference by something or somebody, the process of
regeneration has been speeded up. Speeded up so much that
parts of the process have not had a chance to develop and
degenerate and therefore re generate naturally. It feels as if
the Balance has been pulled apart. Instead of expanding and
contracting, as it should, the multiverse has gone out of kilter.
These storms are partly the result of antimatter "infecting"
matter. Matter is corrupting antimatter. Law is infecting
Chaos, and Chaos is infecting Law. We need to find out why.
And we have to restore the Balance, otherwise the entire
cosmos will become infected until it rapidly degenerates and
collapses into inchoate matter - nothingness. The conquest of
Death over Life. Anything remaining sensate long enough to
witness this process would live that moment of dying for ever!'
She shuddered. And what would have happened to the
rest of us before it came to that?'
'Hard to say... With the destruction of time comes the
collapse of space.' He was still checking the screens as he
spoke. 'Nothing pleasant. A few hundred years at most
in which the multiverse will witness some really horrible
permutations!' He looked up at the screens again. 'I mean
really horrible stuff. Mutations that would make us mad just
by glancing at them. Chaos and Law in their extremes.' He
checked off figures on another screen. 'I can't help thinking
Frank/Freddie Force has something to do this. Those Law-
birds always believe they know better than the rest of us.
It's in their nature to impose. Chaos prefers to go with the
flow, like Captain Abberley and the Bubbly Boys. That's
how they travel. Frank/Freddie and his lot don't mind about
the damage they cause in the fabric of time and space. Like
driving a straight, flat highway through forests and hills
and towns, careless of whatever destruction is created. They
make holes in the multiverse. Their ships shred it. Turn it
into scrap.'
'So why do you think Miggea's the key?'
'Because Miggea is the only "rogue system" that still exists
in the multiverse. Miggea is able to move in an eccentric orbit
which passes through all aspects of reality somehow without
being destroyed. If, while we're in that system, we can - I
don't know - re-adjust the cosmos, restore the Balance, then
we stand a chance of surviving. Of everything surviving.
That system's as far as you get until you come directly under
the influence of the black hole.'
'So that's why we're heading for Miggea. Using the Re-
Enactors as a disguise!'
'Sort of. Yes.'
'And you sent the TARDIS off on a false trail because you're
afraid that whatever is trying to destroy the multiverse thinks
you can stop them.'
'I thought it was Frank/Freddie Force, but now I'm not
sure. He's after the same thing as I am. Or seems to be. I
suspect others are after it, too. See, this has been going on for
a long time. Since your time, in fact When you and I first got
the message. Oops! Look out!'
The huge ship was suddenly spinning while also turning
over end on end. From somewhere came the voice of the
captain issuing rapid instructions. Alarms began to sound. A
fierce cacophony.
And then it stopped.
They were drifting in space in what was surely the same
area they had left when the time storm struck. Except that
there were now no streamers of dark matter threatening to
wrap themselves around the Gargantua. They were moving
along peacefully while the distant suns glimmered far
away.
Captain Snarri joined them. 'I'm not sure where you
qualified, Doctor, but that's the finest bit of navigation I've
ever witnessed. And with no further damage to the ship.'
'Thanks, captain. I suppose you noticed that only a few
of your hull plates look strong enough to sustain a long trip.
One section has sprung completely. You'll need to get some
repair bots outside as well as in.'
'I'm already on it. I'm surprised there weren't more
casualties. Our hospital was twisted, lost some plates, but
we've done our best to patch her up.'
Somewhere out in the shadows a darker shape moved
gracefully, turning slowly, as if against a wind, and Amy had
a sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that she had
seen that shape before, either in the distant past or in her
dreams, she could not be sure which. Why she was alarmed
she couldn't tell. But when she looked away for a moment
and looked back the shadow was gone.
The Doctor was busy with some calculations. More screens
picked up interior scenes on board. The passengers were
unwinding, obviously relieved and only just realising they
had survived. Bots bustled everywhere on the huge liner,
repairing what they could. Mostly they concentrated on the
triple hull, their r-guns pulling plates together, resealing any
cracks, aligning Vs both outside and inside, straightening
tubes, tightening nuts.
In a moment, carrying their suits and helmets, Mr TrYr'r
and some of his officers joined the Doctor and Amy. They
stowed their protective clothing and crowded around the
Doctor asking for advice. Only then did Amy mention what
she had seen on the screen. She pointed, but whatever was
there had not returned. Maybe she had imagined it. After
all that business with the Chaos Kids, she would not be
surprised. She felt stupid when she pointed and there was
nothing there.
'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said. 'I must be hallucinating. I wonder
if that's not what I'm doing all the time these days.'
But the Doctor had learned to trust her senses, even if she
didn't. 'What did it look like?'
'Shadows,' she said. 'Just a lot of shadows. Probably
nothing, just marks on the screen. Sorry.'
'Well, let us know if you see it again,' he said. He turned
back to the second officer. 'Where did you say that pinhole
was?'
Amy concentrated on the screen where she had seen the
shadows. A glint of silver, nothing else.
She heard the Doctor ask the captain a question and the
captain answer: 'Never had any use for them. We had strong
defensive screens, of course, but those generators were all
damaged. We were sure we'd need nothing else. We're too
big and we never carry any cargo of much value. So why do
you ask, Doctor?'
The Doctor scratched his unruly head. 'Because we're
looking vulnerable. We sustained a lot of
damage in that
storm. How many were injured? Was anyone killed?'
One of the ship's doctors had blood on his white uniform
coat. He was unhappy. 'I've been trying to find out. Several
of our elderly passengers had serious heart episodes when
we weren't there to treat them. We never expected to lose
patients in this day and age. Quite a few resurrection caskets
are out of commission. Most of our instruments rely on the
power supply. When that went out, we were pretty helpless.
I feel like a fraud, calling myself a doctor.'
'I know what you mean.' The Doctor looked away. 'Have
you managed a count yet?'
'I think it's at least forty people. We've frozen them now,
but probably too late for a few of them. The 200-year-olds
are all right. We had some youngsters with bad injuries.
No chance of helping them until we get back to civilisation.
Which isn't likely to be Miggea. Ships usually wait for us or
some other big liner to turn up and take their troubles to us.
We're well ahead of them, certainly in technology. They're
pretty primitive. My sister did a year there for her interstellar
service job. She said it was like going back in time.'
W.G. Grace came in carrying her treasured bow-case under
her arm as if ready for a fight. The other players had laughed
at her because throughout the entire storm she had never le
go of it. She had speedskin over a big gash in her arm but
she reassured everyone that no muscles needed replacing
'Back in time?' She laughed heartily, her big beard wagging
'That's no problem for the Terraphiles.'
She did not know until they told her that they had lost th<
whole of the Second Fifteen, sucked out of the ship when two
triple-fitted plates in their quarters blew. The heroes who
had tried to go back in to that section and save them had
been outstanding players - Donna Bradmann, one of their
best fielders, and Shanasakar Greeb, the Second's skunkoid
archer. The other casualty, a Judoon, had not died like the res
of the players but had been found in another section and was
caught in some sort of hallucination, drinking colour from th< leaking fuel tanks, thinking it was Vortex Water. Unrefined
colour wouldn't kill you if only a little was ingested. But this
was powerful extra-refined super and had to be contained in
special vats. Mr TrYr'r came up to inform them that no other
player had been especially badly hurt.
Dr. Who - New Series S1 Page 21