Dr. Who - New Series S1

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by The Coming of the Teraphiles # Michael Moorcock


  When Amy heard all this she was horrified. All those

  poor players killed! They had come all this way, across vast

  swathes of space just to die in this horrible accident.

  'It must jeopardize your chances of playing th(

  Tournament,' TrYr'r was saying, but she hardly heard him

  Some of those who had died had almost been her friends.

  Then she wondered how much of her experience out then

  in the Second Aether had been hallucinatory? She made her

  way through to the Doctor and asked him the first chance she

  got. He too was mourning the dead, but he reassured her.

  'Don't worry,' he said, 'I've known Captain Abberley and

  the Bubbly Boys for a very long time. That's the advantage of

  travelling via Miggea. They're really all right. Sad as I am, Mi

  TrYr'r is correct: it could have been an attempt to sabotage

  the team.'

  Amy was almost crying, angry. 'Someone would kill all

  those people just because of this Tournament?'

  'I don't know, Amy.' The Doctor sighed heavily. 'We could

  be disqualified if we don't turn up with a full team. And we

  have to win that arrer. That's still the most important thing.'

  Amy felt obliged to step up. 'I'll help out if you need me.

  I was a pretty good fielder during the rehearsals, wasn't

  I?' Then she became embarrassed. How could she possibly

  be any better than the tried and true players of the Second

  Fifteen, let alone the surviving First Fifteen?

  He understood and patted her on the shoulder. 'Thanks,

  Amy. I'll remember that.'

  She felt like biting her tongue.

  As she looked up at the dark screen again she could have

  sworn that she saw another shadow fall across it. The outline

  was familiar. Were they still in the Second Aether? Had she

  just spotted a Chaos ship?

  And there it was, suddenly clear, filling the screen, turning

  gracefully against a star cluster. Seemingly only a few parsecs

  away.

  'Look!'

  They turned, surprised by her emphasis.

  'A ship,' she shouted, then dropped her tone. 'Isn't it? I

  mean, do they have ships like that in space? It's like an old

  galleon! With huge sails and stuff?'

  'Oh, dear me,' said the Doctor. 'You're right about it

  being a ship, Amy. And I know her master. He's a very old

  acquaintance of mine. I was rather hoping he wouldn't find

  us. Not in our weakened condition. He's a long way from his

  usual hunting grounds. He used to cruise the Rim worlds

  at this time of year. Collecting his rents. Looking for prey.

  They're closer to home for him. He's fast and he's very, very

  dangerous. The IPC have sent whole fleets after him, but he

  has his ship and his little galaxy well defended!'

  'Little galaxy?' She was bewildered by this. 'Can you have

  a little galaxy?'

  'Dwarf galaxies. Groups of star systems caught in our

  galaxy's gravity. Sort of islands off the coast of the Milky

  Way. Remember?'

  She was sure he hadn't told her about them, but that was

  typical. She suspected him of mixing her up with some other

  girl he'd known. At first she had resented his confusion. Now

  she understood it better and was more forgiving. She no

  longer bothered to correct him.

  The others were joining them to stare at the screen. 'What

  is it?' W.G. Grace wanted to know. 'It's huge, isn't it. Looks

  like an old-time clipper ship, though considerably bigger.

  Hard to tell, of course.'

  'Oh, she's big.' The Doctor took a deep breath. 'Yeah. And

  fast, too. A beauty, isn't she? I remember a time when—' He

  caught himself. 'There was an era long ago, when space was

  full of them. They called them "starjammers".'

  'Can she help us, Doctor?' asked Amy.

  'I'm not sure she intends to offer help exactly,' he answered.

  'She's the Paine out of the dwarf galaxy Canis. Commanded

  by Captain Cornelius. That's what he calls himself. An old

  acquaintance of mine. A sort of enemy, you could say. Or a

  rival. Depending on the circumstances. He doesn't do a lot

  of universe saving, Amy, that's for sure. He must have been

  following behind the storm. Waiting. Keeping out of the

  way. A dark wind is the last thing he needs. Light's totally

  important to him. Still, I doubt he has any plans to attack

  us. I bet he wasn't expecting to find the biggest liner in the

  galaxy helpless as a newborn baby, just waiting for him to

  take her.'

  'A prize?' W.G. Grace leaned her bow-case carefully against

  a console. 'You make her sound like a pirate, Doctor.'

  'That's because she is a pirate. The most infamous and

  feared pirate in the galaxy.' The Doctor was grim. 'I've come

  up against her in the past. There's only one other ship like

  her in the entire pirate brotherhood. Remembered Lombardy.

  And I suppose we should be grateful it's not her. Colonel

  Gaspard Reynauld would be shooting at us by now.'

  He sharpened the picture.

  'She's an old Rim clipper. I doubt if there's another living

  person in conventional space-time who has seen a ship like

  that in the ordinary way of things. Powered by photons. By

  the power of suns. By light itself! Built before the colour-

  engine was invented and made her obsolete, at least as far as

  the major shipbuilders were concerned. Imagine a whole fleet

  of them! They were formidable. Oh, yes! I've tangled with

  Captain Cornelius more than once. He's known as Ironface,

  because of the metal mask he used to wear in battle. A sort of

  phantom of the space opera.' He winced at his own joke. 'But

  I've never had so much to lose before. Or so many other lives

  in immediate danger to think about.'

  W.G. clasped her fancy bow-case to her. 'But by definition

  she can't travel faster than light. We can. Or could. We can

  get away, can't we?'

  'You didn't study relative relativity at school, did you

  W.G.?' The Doctor was rubbing his face, as if to get circulation

  back into it. 'Light travels at many different speeds, depending

  on context. We just use the old Einsteinian speed to make

  certain calculations, the way we use Earth kilometres or litres

  or parsecs. Or Anglo-Saxons used their feet. Same as time.

  You know that time moves at different speeds, don't you? If

  it didn't, there wouldn't be any space as such. No matter, as

  we understand it. Does your enthusiasm for the past, W.G.,

  mean that you only went to schools which taught Dark Age

  science?'

  Grace turned a substantial shade of puce and would not

  reply.

  The Paine banked again, sweetly, elegantly. These jammers

  were the first ships Earth had used for deep-space exploration.

  Those great fleets moved before winds of light radiating from

  the stars, the way old-time galleons used the wind. At some

  point, decades or centuries earlier, the Paine had been built

  in space and then towed or boosted up to speed until she

  could sail under the power of light alone. She never stopped

  moving, circli
ng planets while her tenders went back and

  forth, using the power of galaxies to travel.

  Amy wondered if the Paine was really their enemy. After

  all, if dark matter spread to dominate the universe, the Paine

  would become incapable of movement and drift for ever

  in the doldrums of space. But maybe Captain Cornelius

  did not care what happened in the future. What if he lived

  merely to enjoy the moment and refused to worry about any

  consequences? Already Amy was becoming intrigued by a

  man she had never seen...

  'Oh, thank goodness! You're safe. I looked for you

  everywhere and was beginning to think - oh - you know...'

  Bingo Lockesley was trembling. He seemed on the verge of

  tears. He still wore his emergency suit, splashed with blood.

  He was horribly pale.

  'Are you all right, Bingo?' Not wanting to hurt him if he

  was wounded, she hesitated before hugging him.

  He looked down at the blood. 'Gosh, no! Ha, ha. That's

  not me. Poor old gent broke his arm, got some cuts from a

  ripped inner plate. Medics fixed him up pretty much on the

  spot. I've just come from the hospital section. All I got was a

  bump on the head. Knocked me out for a few minutes, that's

  all. It's the others need our help. A nightmare, what?'

  'Old Bingo's been a brick!' Hari joined them, wiping his

  hands on a rag.

  Flapper was with him. She wore nurse's overalls and her

  hair was hidden under a blue hat. 'Glad you're safe,' she

  said. 'Some people were actually sucked out through the hull

  and into space. Others were seriously injured. They had to

  go into the cryogenic bay. We did everything we could do

  until the medics had things under control We heard some of

  our own people were killed. We thought we'd better come up

  here and look for you and met old Bingo on the way. Thank

  goodness you're safe. Ah, there's the Doctor. How is he?'

  'A bit tired.' Amy was delighted to see them. She was

  reminded of the first and second world wars, when the

  unlikeliest people suddenly became heroes. 'His steering

  saved our lives. He got us out of the storm.' She knew she

  would never be able to explain the Second Aether.

  'I hear Greeb and Donna bought it, what?' Hari Agincourt

  was embarrassed at his show of emotion. 'Jolly bad break.

  Somebody said that the whole Second Fifteen were lost. Is

  that true?'

  'Yes, poor devils.' Bingo kicked at the floor.

  'Those two were both ace players, weren't they?' asked

  Flapper. 'I mean they're a serious loss. I know it's not good

  form to talk about the team's chances at a time like this, but

  isn't this going to make it difficult for the Gentlemen?'

  'It will a b i t I think the casualties - those who weren't

  sucked into space - will be all right, of course, when we get

  back to a civilised world. But meanwhile things are a looking

  a bit sticky, yes. Miggea's not exactly advanced as far as

  medicine's involved. For the sake of Donny and Masher we

  can't risk resurrecting them there, can we?'

  The Doctor nodded vaguely, studying the banking space-

  clipper.

  Amy realised that the mood in the control room had

  changed. There was a sudden silence. Everyone was now

  looking at the screen on which she had seen the sailing ship.

  'Big, isn't she?' said Bingo quietly, rubbing his head. He

  looked about him for a seat

  'Rather!' agreed Hari. He glanced at Flapper. 'You all

  right, old thing?'

  'She might be here to help.' Flapper shivered and drew

  closer to a manly Hari. 'I mean, it's possible, isn't it?'

  'I don't think so.' Amy clutched at the 'celestial' necklace

  in her pocket, suddenly wishing she too had a manly arm

  to gather her in. For reasons obscure to her, she took out

  the necklace and put it on. 'That's the Paine. She's a pirate

  ship, captained by a villain they call Ironface. Because of his

  mask.'

  'Oh, Lord!' exclaimed Bingo. 'I've heard of him. I say, Hari,

  I think we'd better get our bows and a couple of quivers of

  arrows. Stand by to repel boarders and all that.'

  The Doctor heard him. 'Not much chance we can chase off

  Ironface the way we did General Force. His grapple beams

  could crush us like a tin can. And we're already pretty much

  in the position of a can someone's trodden on. Half the force

  screens are down. Our hull plates were seriously damaged in

  the storm. We're a sitting duck for any predator. We can only

  hope he doesn't think of us as prey.'

  The ship's monstrous black sails bulged as she came about.

  Her masts were hundreds of metres high, her sails miles

  across. Yet, because the Gargantua was herself such a gigantic

  ship, the Paine seemed relatively small in comparison. Apart

  from dark brass furnishings, she was all black. Any light not

  directly used to sail her was saved in energy converters deep

  in her slender hull. She had two colour engines as auxiliaries.

  Her gun ports gleamed, showing just a hint of her banned

  Mann and Robersons. The energy cannons inflicted worse

  than death on any living thing they as much as brushed with

  their radiation. They were considered the best armament in

  the universe, hugely effective, but nobody had used them

  in centuries because of the terrible torture they inflicted.

  Nobody died quickly from a Mann and Roberson shot, but

  they did, inevitably, die. It was unwise to engage the Paine in

  battle. She never lost. And fluttering unostentatiously from

  her foretop was a black flag on which a skull and bones had

  been embroidered in pure white thread.

  The Paine kept close to the Gargantua. She sailed beside the liner but made no threats, took no action, simply continued

  to shadow her. Only the Gargantua' s own flickering lights

  and the glimmering of faraway stars made the pirate visible.

  Passengers and crew crowded to look at her, craning their

  necks to follow the masts and get some measure of the size

  of her sails.

  All was silence.

  Finally Captain Snarri wiped his huge mouth and said

  wearily, 'Normally we could probably outrun her, but she

  can see we've been hurt. I can't engage her because we're a

  civilian ship and my first duty is to the passengers. So. I can't

  run. I can't fight. I suppose I'm going to have to barter. Pirates

  have kidnapped rich passengers in the past and held them

  to ransom. Well probably be made to surrender volunteers.

  Generally most of them have been returned in one piece.

  Ironface might be satisfied with any treasure the passengers

  have.' Snarri took a deep breath. His sigh was long and bitter.

  'I've had no training for this situation. I am responsible. Yet I

  have no idea, Doctor, what to do.'

  'Perhaps I can negotiate a way out.' The Doctor put a

  comforting hand on Snarri's shoulder. 'Cornelius and I have

  crossed swords before. Quite literally on one occasion. In a

  coalmine. Near Newcastle. About 1918. Leopard Men.'

  'I can't think of an a
lternative.' The captain appeared to

  sag. He sat down in a chair just as a resonant, ironic voice

  came in over their communicators:

  'Captain Cornelius of the privateer Paine wishing to

  establish contact. Do I have Gargantua' s permission?' At least

  he was following the polite protocol of the space lanes.

  Captain Snarri pulled himself together, licked dry lips and

  said softly: 'Permission granted, captain.'

  He signalled to the bots and the busy little machines tuned

  the Paine in and trained their V on Captain Snarri. 'Good

  evening to you, Captain Cornelius. I am Captain Snarri,

  commander of this ship.'

  'And to you, Captain Snarri.' Unexpectedly a head, covered

  by a tight leather helmet and a simple, white papier mache

  Arlecchino mask from the Italian Commedia dell'arte, filled

  the screen, as if he had deliberately chosen a less menacing

  persona. He wore an undecorated dark blue naval jacket

  buttoned to the chin. 'I apologise for the rather melodramatic

  hiding of my face. I like to travel and that would be impossible

  if anyone recognised me. Might I express my regret at your

  misfortune?'

  'Let's not resort to hypocrisy, Captain Cornelius. I know

  you for a pirate and you know my ship as one of the greatest

  passenger liners in the galaxy, protected by intergalactic law.

  Which I invoke. Your ship has a duty to rescue mine.' Snarri

  could not easily hide his anxiety for his ship and passengers

  and was doing the only thing he knew to try to protect

  them.

  'Put me on now,' murmured the Doctor. At a sign from

  the captain the V now showed both men and Amy on the

  pirate's screen. 'Good evening, Captain Ironface. We've been

  thrashed, I'm afraid. Black storm. We're pretty much out of

  commission. I suppose there's no chance of your giving us a

  hand?'

  For a moment the pirate captain's gaze moved from Snarri,

  to the Doctor and lingered a moment on Amy, making her

  shiver. Then, letting his attention return to the Doctor, he let

  a shadow of a smile cross his face.

  'Why, Doctor! What a compliment. But you forget my

  calling, surely? I'm a star thief. We wish to board. If you

  refuse - well, I'm sure I don't need to make the conventional

  threats. We've both seen Mann and Robersons at work.

  There's not a survivor of the Rim Wars who hasn't. However,

  if your captain will give us his word, I'll leave my men on

  my ship and merely bring my bosun. What do you say? I've

 

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