The TARDIS arrived silently. In materialising it expended as much energy in a few seconds as a star might burn in three days, yet the sheer scale of the universe ensured that this spike of power was little more than a momentary flicker in the white noise of infinity. Even if the small blue box had appeared as large as its insides dictated, still it would have seemed infinitesimal, tinier than a speck of dust cast adrift in an ocean.
And yet still its arrival was noticed, catalogued, and responded to.
‘That didn’t feel like a usual landing?’ said Nyssa, taking hold of the console as the TARDIS gently rocked.
‘I’ll say.’ Tegan did likewise, though gripping tighter than was necessary. ‘Where are we?’
The Doctor looked up. ‘Exactly where I want us to be.’ Unlike his companions he wasn’t holding on to anything, letting his body sway in time with the ship.
‘First time for everything.’
He scowled at Tegan. ‘I’ve activated the gravitational compensators; you don’t have to cling on for dear life.’
Nyssa let go. For a moment she looked poised to grab hold again if she needed to, but then she gave a satisfied nod and stepped back. ‘It really is all right, Tegan. Like being on a sailing ship.’
‘Have I ever mentioned I get seasick? Why do you think I’m an airhostess?’
‘Tegan.’
She looked up. The Doctor had his hands jabbed into his pockets, and was slightly stooping forwards in that curiously old man way of his.
‘What?’
He smiled. ‘The swaying has stopped.’
‘Oh.’ Feeling slightly foolish she let go of the console. ‘So, we’re on a boat then?’
‘Not exactly,’ he replied, turning towards the view screen. Without looking back he flicked the activation switch.
‘We’re in space,’ exclaimed Nyssa, mentally chiding herself for always being the one to state the obvious.
On screen the stars began to shift as the TARDIS rotated on its axis. ‘The outer edge of the Castelabra system to be precise. More importantly, the home of…’
‘Wow!’
He grinned. Getting a reaction like that from Tegan was almost worth all the griping…
‘What are they?’ said Nyssa with equal, if quieter, awe.
On the screen were three blazing planetoids, miniature suns arranged in a sideways V shape; one to the left, two to the right.
‘The moons of Castelabra Vertex. Sadly the planet no longer remains.’
’But how are they burning?’ asked Nyssa. ‘They’re too small for a nuclear reaction to be taking place. Even if they had volatile atmospheres they’d expend their fuel in seconds.’
‘They would…’ He smiled knowingly. ’Except they have a constant supply of new fuel teleported in from the Castelabra star.’
‘Why?’
He looked at Tegan. ‘It’s art. Halabrousin’s masterpiece. Of course he planned a slew of them, but the money ran out. Luckily the Intergalactic Art Commission funds this one.’ Suddenly he frowned. ‘Hmm…’
‘What is it?’
He ignored Nyssa. Turning he found her in his way and gently took her shoulders, easing her to one side so he could get past.
‘Doctor…’
‘Not now, Nyssa,’ he said as he began frantically checking the readings displayed on the console. ‘No, no, that can’t be right.’ He looked up at the miniature stars, scratched at the skull beneath his fine blonde hair. ‘They’re orange. They shouldn’t be orange, they should be green…unless…’
‘Doctor?’ said Tegan.
She got more of an answer than Nyssa; instead the Doctor thumped the console. ‘Aha! That’s better, no wonder they’re orange, we‘re three hundred years early.’
‘What was that about exactly where you wanted to be?’ Smirked Tegan.
His chest puffed out defensively. ’We are where I wanted us to be.’
‘Just not when?’ said Nyssa.
He brightened. ‘No harm done…’ The smile faded. ’Oh no.’
‘What now?’
‘We’re in the sixty-third century.’ He began inputting coordinates. They needed to be ready to dematerialise the moment the time rotor reset.
‘What’s wrong with the sixty-third century?’ asked Nyssa.
He glanced up, worry dominating his face. ‘In this time the Castelabra system is owned by …’ his gaze drifted towards the view screen. ‘Oh no,’ he repeated with the weariness of centuries.
The three burning moons had gone. Or rather they were still there, but now something was between them and the TARDIS. Something big.
The main bulk of the ship was a bulbous grey sphere from which trailed a dozen slender silver tendrils. Lights rippled along the hull, strangely menacing in their intensity.
‘Who are they?’
He ignored Tegan. Instead he pressed a button and a moment later the TARDIS began to gently undulate again.
Nyssa ran towards him. ‘You’ve turned the gravitational compensators off?’
He’d stood back from the console, and was staring off into an empty corner of the room. ‘Yes. Nothing to worry about.’
‘But without them we’ll…’
‘Nothing to worry about!’ he snapped.
Nyssa shrank back. He’d never spoken to her like that before.
Ignoring her earlier discomfort at the movement of the ship, Tegan ran to join them. ‘Who are they?’ she repeated.
‘They’re the Genus of Seven.’ The Doctor had his hands in his pockets, and was still staring at that empty corner.
‘Yes we are, Doctor.’
Nyssa and Tegan turned to find that someone now stood there. ‘We are the Genus of Seven, and we have claim,’ said the reptilian humanoid.
Tegan audibly gasped, but Nyssa remained quiet, being more used to aliens, and he was certainly alien. He was tall, bulky yet also somehow willowy, with skin that was blue and scaly. His outfit was composed of multicoloured folds of material that had been draped around him with great care, fixed in place with shiny pins that reflected in the artificial light. His head seemed smaller than it should have for the rest of his body, giving him a narrow, angular visage, and the skin seemed to hang in folds upon it, as if it’d once been much bigger.
It was the eyes that were most disconcerting though, a dozen or more clustered together in the centre of his face, dwarfing the lipless mouth beneath them.
His hands were empty and there was no sign of a weapon, no sign of any technology at all.
‘We have claim.’ His voice was cultured, yet there was a rough, pained wheeze that seemed to accompany each breath.
The Doctor took up a position between the alien and his companions. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Makzillon, Commander of the third conglomeration.’
‘Try saying that when you’ve had a few.’
‘Tegan!’
‘Sorry,’ she replied petulantly.
The Doctor returned his gaze to Makzillon. ’You have no rights here. This TARDIS is the sovereign territory of…’
Makzillon cut the Doctor off with a raised hand. Diaphanous fingers wafted in the air-conditioned breeze. ‘We know who you are, that you are an exile from your own kind.’ As he spoke a gentle hiss issued from somewhere on his body. An instant later his head began to inflate, until the folds of skin had been pulled taut, and the myriad eyes spread out to take in his surroundings. ‘This capsule has no legal protection, and is within our territory.’
The Doctor took another step forwards. ’You can’t take her.’
‘Her?’ said Tegan. ’He wants the TARDIS?’
‘He doesn’t want the TARDIS.’
Another hiss. Makzillon’s head deflated, and the eyes fell back together to all focus on one thing.
Tegan’s eyes widened. ‘Me?’
‘You can’t have her,’ repeated the Doctor.
‘You have no right to refuse me.’
‘Why on earth does he want me?’ said Tegan, nose wrinkling in disgust as she tried not to imagine why a big scaly dinosaur man would want her.
‘He’s not interested in you, specifically I mean. It’s because you’re human.’
‘You hunt humans?’ said Nyssa. She made to take a position by the Doctor’s side but at the last moment thought better of it and instead went over to Tegan, placing a protective arm around her shoulders.
‘We don’t hunt. We merely take what we are legally entitled to.’
‘What does he mean?’
The Doctor looked at Tegan. ‘About a century ago, the human race, the entire human race, suffered the worst recession in intergalactic history, then they suffered the worst depression in intergalactic history.’
‘So?’
He sighed. ’So, the only way they could pay off all their debts was to consolidate them, they took out a massive loan from the Genus of Seven to pay off everyone else. Unfortunately they couldn’t keep up the payments, so the Genus of Seven foreclosed. Legally Makzillon’s people own every human being found within their territory.’
‘But surely that applies to humans in this century?’ said Nyssa quickly. ’Tegan is from thousands of years ago.’
‘True. Unfortunately the loan agreement didn’t specify. Besides the Genus of Seven have a very ropy understanding of linear time.’ He sighed. ‘You know, I remember what your ancestors were like, before the merging.’
‘Before the merging they were almost extinct.’
‘Merging?’
The Doctor glanced at Nyssa. ’The last survivors of seven once great civilisations came together in a pact of mutual survival, using biogenetics to create a gestalt species. The Genus of Seven.’
‘Well I don’t care how many of them there are, they’re not taking me.’
Makzillon looked at Tegan. ’You have no choice, and he can do nothing to prevent it.’ He pointed at the Doctor.
‘You must be able to do something.’
‘I’m sorry, Nyssa. Even I have my limits, and the Commander is right. They own the Castelabra system, so as the TARDIS is here any human aboard is fair game.’
‘I’m glad you’re going to be reasonable about this Doctor.’
‘He might, but that doesn’t mean I have to,’ said Nyssa, raising her chin definitely. She stepped in front of Tegan. ’If you want her you have to come through me.’
Makzillon flicked his hand dismissively, and suddenly Nyssa was standing beside the Doctor.
‘How…’
She’d stood still long enough, listening to her future being discussed, but self-preservation finally kicked in. Tegan bolted for the door that led to the inner corridors of the TARDIS. The place was a maze, so maybe she could lose him in there.
It took a few seconds for her to realise that though her legs were pumping, the door was no nearer. With a resigned sob she looked down. She was running over the same piece of floor, again and again. It was like being on an invisible treadmill. She stopped and slumped to the floor in a beaten heap.
For a moment Nyssa hesitated, fearful that Makzillon would stop her. Then she decided to go to Tegan anyway.
‘Let your associate comfort her friend and say her goodbyes. You may too, if you wish.’
’I’ve had many companions over the years, and most of them I didn’t get to say farewell to. Sometimes it’s easier to just move on.’
Nyssa had helped Tegan to her feet now. ‘Doctor?’ she said, half plaintively, half angrily. She knew they didn’t always see eye to eye, but she’d thought he cared about her, enough to say goodbye at least.
‘Please disentangle your limbs from your friend; it would be a pity to teleport both of you.’
‘It’s ok,’ said Tegan with a brave smile. ‘He’s right; no point us both ending up slaves.’ Nyssa complied, gently releasing Tegan and stepping back. ‘I’m assuming you do want me as a slave? You don’t eat humans do you?’
‘Only the valueless ones.’
‘Oh great. I’m guessing that might include a useless airhostess from forty thousand years ago.’
‘Hostess? You’re a serving wench?’
‘Less of the wench.’ Now her fate was sealed something of her belligerent nature was coming back to the fore. She’d make them rue the day they enslaved Tegan Jovanka.
‘Trained servants are highly prized. We must return to my ship now.’
‘One moment.’
Makzillon turned. ‘Doctor, if this is some attempt to stop me…’
The Doctor held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘I assure you, Commander, I am not doing a single thing to stop you.’ He tugged down each cuff in turn whilst smiling broadly. ‘See, nothing up my sleeves.’
‘Then what do you want?’
The Doctor lowered his hands. ‘Written proof of transfer. Should I ever be asked what became of Tegan I’d rather have evidence that I didn’t dispose of her myself.’
The myriad eyes stared at him, trying to see into his mind, trying to determine if this was a trick. It was hard to see what he could do though. Makzillon had the law on his side.
Makzillon raised a hand and an instant later a single sheet of folded vellum appeared in the Doctor’s right hand.
‘How prompt. You get that from the Lensarbi.’ He unfolded the paper and began to read. After a moment he held the paper closer and squinted. Finally he began patting his jacket with his left hand. ‘I’m sure I used to own some glasses…’
‘Doctor!’ Makzillon was getting impatient. ‘You may examine it at your leisure, but I must be going.’
‘Yes you must,’ agreed the Doctor. ‘However you will obviously be going alone.’
Another hiss of air inflated the reptile’s head, on this occasion it also served the secondary purpose of sounding like a sigh. ‘Do we really have to involve the authorities in this?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘Not unless you insist, but really you don’t have a leg to stand on.’ He screwed up the paper and dropped it to the floor.
‘You think that will stop me?’
‘No. However I do think that you should check with your ship as to the TARDIS’s relative spatial position.’
‘Doctor?’ said Tegan.
Nyssa smiled.
‘Well, Commander?’
For a moment Makzillon communed silently with his ship. Then his head deflated. It sounded even more like a sigh this time; one of defeat. ‘Do yourself, and your companion, a favour, Doctor. Don’t trespass in our space again. Next time you won’t be so fortunate.’
And then he was gone.
‘What a pleasant adversary,’ said the Doctor stepping over to the console. The quicker they were out of here the better.
‘Doctor!’ There were tears in Tegan’s eyes, but she was smiling. ‘How did you get rid of him?’
His eyes twinkled. ‘Nyssa knows.’
‘Stellar drift. Space is always moving, and anything in space is in constant motion.’
‘Unless one has gravitational compensators,’ said the Doctor.
Tegan frowned. ‘But you turned them off…’ Then her eyes shone. ‘The TARDIS drifted out of their territory.’
‘Exactly,’ he said and flicked the switch to send them on their way.
‘Very clever, Doctor,’ said Nyssa.
‘You could have told me.’
‘And how, exactly would I have done that without alerting Makzillon, hmm?’
She narrowed her stare. ‘You know, you seemed awfully convincing when you said you weren’t bothered about saying goodbye.’
A mischievous smile flickered across his lips.
‘So where are we off to now?’ said Nyssa.
‘I’m not sure. Perhaps a nice sea voyage…’
Tegan groaned.
