The Coming of the Teraphiles

  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

  no intention of doing you further violence. But I think you'll

  admit we have the advantage.'

  Captain Snarri made a noise in his throat. He glared at the

  screen, then at the Doctor. His shrug was angry.

  Second Intermission

  OUT OF THE DARKNESS and silence of the intergalactic void, breaking

  through the thin membrane between one universe and the

  next, the oddly shaped ship pauses, its engines cackling

  faintly like distant geese, wisps of dark energy moving

  around it like tentacles feeling its odd angles and appendages.

  Within, faces sad, speculative, smiling, silently contemplate

  the cosmos. Then comes the noise of raised voices, arguing

  their position until a decision is reached and the ship warps

  again, fading into the perpetual night. It makes a sound like

  an angry donkey, suggesting to anyone looking out at it that

  it is at least part organic, which in a sense it is.

  Millions of light years away, more than one set of

  instruments detect the ship and speculative minds debate its

  origins, sending probes to examine it but in truth they are

  relieved to remain in ignorance, at least for the moment.

  The ship spins and vanishes again, registering on only the

  most sophisticated detectors.

  Bosun Peet Aviv of the star-dipper Paine relays the news

  to her captain, murmuring of the Second Aether and those

  who hunt between the worlds and in turn are hunted. They

  speak of Lady Peg the Invisible, of Frank/Freddie Force and

  the others who move between the worlds using atmospheres

  which, passing from one gateway to another, make corridors,

  whole universes, of breathable gasses. Their instruments

  again pick up the ship, but its occupants are gone. Where?

  What have they chosen to do? Are they already walking

  between the worlds, leaving that strangely shaped vessel

  adrift or anchored in some clever configuration which, like a

  supernatural incantation, they can turn into speech and thus

  return? Magic or science, it's all the same to the passengers

  of that ship or her watchers, for this is the far future where a

  spell can be a mathematical formula and a song can work a

  miracle.

  Peet Aviv relays her sightings to her master, reluctantly

  admitting her mystification. But the pirate captain has other

  business on his mind and pays poor attention to the matter.

  He commands Peet Aviv to wear her red and blue formal

  uniform and to be vigilant. They could be trapped still, and

  their ship consigned to some other universe, a speck of heavy

  dust travelling through the shadows of worlds too large for

  their eyes or their instruments to measure.

  Or are there plans to lure them down into the region of the

  black hole where they will sail for ever in the same terrible

  moment?

  More than once the great starjammer has sensed a trap

  and barely escaped it.

  Captain Cornelius knows he is taking a great risk in

  leaving his ship, but he would not do so unless the stakes

  were the highest he had ever known.

  Chapter 19

  Conversation in the Captain's Cabin

  WITH JUST A SUGGESTION of noblesse oblige, Ironface the pirate ducked his helmeted head beneath the lip of the airlock and raised

  his hand in an old-fashioned peace gesture. 'I am grateful

  for your hospitality. May I introduce my bosun in all my

  adventures? Mademoiselle Peet Aviv, Captain Snarri, the

  Doctor and...?'

  'Mademoiselle Amelia Pond,' said Amy firmly. 'Enchantee,

  monsieur.' She was delighted to see a glint of humour in the

  Doctor's eye.

  'If we're parlaying, well go this way into my state room,'

  Captain Snarri said, with a sharp whisk of his tail.

  Captain Cornelius and Peet Aviv fell in behind the

  Gargantua' s commander, the Doctor and Amy bringing up the

  rear. Amy was fascinated by the bosun of the Paine. Peet Aviv

  was one of the strangest and most beautiful creatures Amy

  had ever seen. She wore a copper and platinum exoskeleton

  over most of her upper body. The exoskeleton resembled the

  carapace of a gigantic locust but her elongated head had been

  modelled on Modigliani's Woman with a Fan. Peet Aviv's legs

  were elegantly curved steel springs so she moved in long,

  bouncing, graceful strides. Her voice was sweetly musical.

  Had she not worn a banned neutron pistol at her side, she

  would not have been recognised as a pirate.

  The captain's state room was luxurious but had the air of

  being rarely used. A bot brought a fire to life in the elaborate

  Style Liberty grate, and all five sat down in deep armchairs

  with broad arms of oak and dark burgundy plush. The fire

  threw warm shadows into the room, and Captain Snarri

  raised and lowered his hands bringing the lamps to soft light.

  His long legs carried him gracefully to the cabinet where he

  poured their requested drinks and brought them personally

  to his guests.

  In his usual realistic, unemotional tone he opened the

  conversation. 'We've survived the worst space-time storm

  I've ever experienced. No doubt you've been listening

  on your eavesbots, Captain Cornelius, so you know our

  situation. We can't fight you. We can't outrun you. I've been

  broadcasting signals, but the storm obviously wiped out

  potential assistance from nearby. Any police help is days or

  more away. So we're at your mercy, sir.'

  'My word's given, sir.' Cornelius sipped his Vortex Water.

  'I'll demand a small enough price. Matter of professional

  honour.' Again a shadow smile. 'But that wasn't my reason

  for requesting your permission to board.' He gestured to

  Peet Aviv who apologetically unbuttoned her neutron gun's

  holster and rose to put it on the mantle beside the Scottish

  clock. As she sat down again she raised her VW in a genial,

  unsmiling toast.

  Amy found her mind growing more alert but was not really

  sure why. The rest of her was very much relaxed, enjoying and

  admiring the room. The big cabin was beautifully furnished

  with large, comfortable chairs, mostly in the style, or so the

  Doctor whispered when she mentioned it, of Morris and

  Stickley, the old Arts and Crafts designers. All dark oak and

  glinting copper, the furniture reflected the light from the fire

  basket in the grate. Amy was grateful for the luxury. This was

  the first time since the storm she had been able to sit down

  and, as far as it was possible in the circumstances, unwind.

  The huge bowl of old-fashioned pink and white roses on the

  centre table looked real and their scent was gorgeous, adding

  further to her sense of wellbeing.

  'You won't hear the faintest buzz from our Mann and

  Robersons, captain, no matter what ensues today. I'm

  unarmed. You'll hear no intended threats from us, and I

  apologise for and withdraw any unintended threats. Save in

&nbsp
; one small matter, which I'll announce in due course.

  'I'm glad to see you, Doctor. You knew I'd recognise

  you, I suspect.' He chuckled. 'Do you find it as hard as I

  do to discover suitable intellectual company, these days? I

  remember our last meeting with pleasure, for you, too, are a

  sensitive like me. I hope you have a little time to spare me.'

  'I'll happily spare as much as necessary, if you'll help our

  ship, Captain Cornelius.'

  'Then let us discuss just that. Will anyone mind if I smoke?

  I have a splendid Meng and Ecker's heavy tobacco.' Having

  received their permission, he stuffed his long-stemmed

  meerschaum. 'It's obvious you've seen a storm or two by

  the look of your ship. I never thought one of these G-class

  monsters could be caught by man or force of nature. They

  said she could go into a black hole and come out unscathed.

  Yet here she is.' Captain Cornelius placed his pipe in a pewter

  ashtray. 'It seemed to me that you were off course when we

  sighted you.'

  The Doctor crossed his gangling legs, his long fingers

  pushing back a flop of hair from his face. 'Exactly right,

  captain. Did you also encounter a storm? You're some

  distance from your preferred routes.'

  'Indeed we are, sir. The dark currents swept in and caught

  us just after we'd left our home port in Canis. We'd only seen

  the currents from a safe distance. As you may know, there

  have been many more such storms beyond the Rim than near

  the Hub. Even so, they appeared to be threatening deeper

  space only and, until recently, we had little to fear. We have

  been extremely lucky up to now. You can imagine what those

  currents mean to us. We depend on light. Light is even more

  important to us than it is to colour-fuelled vessels. Without it,

  we could not move at all. We could, I suppose, convert solely

  to colour. But the prospect of the galaxy going dark is one

  guaranteed to alarm any intelligent creature.'

  The Doctor smiled. 'Dark means cold. Cold means death.'

  He leaned back in his chair admiring the paintings on the

  walls. He was doing his best to show no emotion. 'What was

  your course, may I ask, when you saw the tide?'

  'I was heading for Miggea, at the Hub. She orbits the

  Schwarzschild Radius, as you know. The Ghost Worlds? I'm

  a keen Tournament watcher, and I gathered the three finalists

  were going to be playing on Flynn this year. I had hoped

  to be there.' His smile was self-mocking. 'Not as myself, of

  course. I used to have a certain amount of skill with the bow.

  I had no plans to take part in the Tournament proper, but

  there are archery contests arranged around the perimeter.

  I'd imagined perhaps I could try my luck at one or two of

  those,'

  'That would have been dangerous,' the Doctor observed

  with an answering smile, 'given that there's a high price on

  your head. You must know that.'

  'I'm rather flattered, in fact. But I'm an incorrigible

  romantic and have to admit I relished the risk.'

  'Like Robin Hood,' said Amy suddenly.

  They both turned to her enquiringly.

  'Robin Hood, the outlaw archer. The Sheriff of Nottingham

  put on an archery match and Robin Hood went there in

  disguise to see if he could win. They show it all the time -

  well, they used to. Flynn! That's it! I knew that was ringing

  a bell. Errol Flynn. Basil Rathbone. Olivia de Havilland?

  Galloping through the Green Wood? Trigger?'

  'Trigger?' exclaimed the Doctor. 'Really? The horse? Roy

  Rogers?'

  'I recognised him,' she said. 'I was rather proud of myself.

  It was Aunt Sharon's favourite film.'

  'Film?' murmured Cornelius enquiringly.

  'Twentieth-century Earth art form,' the Doctor told him.

  'An early type of V drama.'

  'So...' The Dutchman showed a deeper interest in Amy.

  'You're a time traveller, then? Like the Doctor?'

  'Errol Flynn and that,' said Amy, feeling awkward. 'I'm

  from...'

  'Old Old Earth,' put in the Doctor hastily, turning back.

  'Her subject at university. Dark Age studies. You know what

  we Terraphiles are like with our love of minutiae.'

  'I, too, must study this Robin Woods. Prowling through

  the jungle, eh? He sounds like something of a tiger. Forgive

  me for my rudeness, Captain Snarri. I only want a small price

  for helping you reach your next destination. Part of that is one

  thing you're carrying which I learned about from a mutual

  acquaintance. General Force. Frank/Freddie Force came to

  me a while ago and suggested he and I combine our energies

  to take it. I have to admit, I was tempted. Then I decided that

  would be unsporting, since I had already decided to claim it

  for myself. Also, to be perfectly honest with you, I don't like

  the fellow. I don't think I'd want to do business with him. He

  was looking, as you surely have guessed, for the legendary

  Arrow of Law. The Silver Arrow for which your teams are

  competing.'

  The Doctor carefully set his glass of Vortex Water down

  on the wide arm of his Stickley chair. 'The Arrow? You think

  we have it on board the Gargantua?'

  Captain Cornelius looked surprised by the Doctor's

  reaction. 'You don't know you're carrying it with you?'

  'I'm not sure what game Frank/Freddie Force is playing

  with us both,' replied the Doctor, 'but we are not carrying the

  so-called Arrow of Law. It's in a travelling time vault which

  will only arrive when the last game's played on Flynn. We

  can't get it until then. That's precisely to stop it being stolen

  or the presenter being tempted to nick it themselves. I saw it

  placed in the vault. Many of us did.'

  'Surely you know what that arrow is? Or what it represents,

  Doctor?'

  Amy wondered if the Doctor intended to tell Captain

  Cornelius about the message he had received from the Hub

  of the galaxy, or whether he intended to play what few cards

  he held close to his chest.

  The Doctor's face was expressionless when he replied. 'Of

  course I do.'

  Captain Cornelius broke into a spontaneous laugh. 'Of

  course you do! Then perhaps you can tell me where it comes

  from and who now possesses it?'

  'It's the prize for which teams of Terraphiles play a series

  of archaic games. The games are played once every quarter-

  millennium. The team which wins those games receives the

  Silver Arrow of Artemis from the previous winners. Until the

  last game, it remains kept out of time and space. The team

  who last won it are known as the Visitors and are probably

  already on Flynn. Surely you know all this?'

  The captain ignored the question. 'Your reason for joining

  the team?'

  'To have a bit of fun, you know. Get some exercise. I can

  always do with that.'

  'So you crossed time and space in your TARDIS, risked

  your life more than once, just for a bit of fun? To get some

  exercise?'

  'You know that one, surely? A person
gets bored...'

  'That's your entire reason? I doubt you're being entirely

  frank with me, Doctor. My instruments detected no sign of

  your TARDIS. As for the Arrow.

  In the ensuing silence Amy looked from one man to the

  other, wondering who would speak first.

  Eventually the Doctor said: 'This is all I know. I got a

  long-distance message from someone who understood how

  to contact me. The message was broken. Partly common

  galactic from this period. I half-recognised the voice, but

  I can't say for certain who it was. I didn't recognise all the

  language. Their signal came from Miggea's Schwarzschild

  Radius. They mentioned Tom Mix, an ancient actor, Flynn in

  Miggea and the Cosmic Roogalator or Regulator. Then they

  mentioned Frank/Freddie Force's name. That worried me,

  because Force is crazy enough to bring about the death of the

  multiverse - all time and space, matter and antimatter. The

  death of everything. That would suit his ego. He's one of the

  few creatures I can believe mad enough to destroy us all.

  'I also knew from my own observations that the dark

  tides are running - running through time and space - which

  suggested something had gone wrong, since they were

  already moving at unprecedented speeds. The message came

  from the centre, so I decided to go there and see if I could

  find out what was causing all this. And I wanted to fix that

  irregularity, if I could. From what signals I could decipher,

  that Silver Arrow is somehow linked to the dark currents. I

  thought if we won it I could examine it and see exactly what

  it was...'

  Captain Cornelius broke into easy laughter. "That's "all", is it, my dear Doctor? You speak of a horrifying ego! Yet you

  crossed vast distances of space and time on the off-chance

  of being able to fix something at the centre of the multiverse

  without knowing exactly what you were going to remedy?'

  'Well, yes.' Awkwardly, the Doctor straightened in his

  chair. 'Not for the first time. That's what I do. Does it amuse

  you to patronise me?'

  'Forgive me, but it does sound unlikely. If you detected

  irregularities why didn't you try to adjust them there and

  then?'

  'I followed the signal. It led me into that sector. I think you

  know me as well as I know you, captain.'

  'Indeed. Don Quixote. Righter of wrongs. Rescuer of those

  in distress. A man driven by infinite curiosity.' He raised his