Marion looked out of the window onto the chief city of
Voesi I. When they arrived a week ago she had thought its pale mauve-pink
and purple sky reflected in the lake upon which the city was built quite
beautiful. The three small suns diffused by the thin clouds and the ice
mountains behind the rounded spires of the towering living complexes that
were home to half a million people were lovely, too. The shell pink architecture
with almost no corners or angles looked as if it was grown not built and
as such fitted perfectly with the natural landscape.
It still was beautiful, but the sentinel ships in the sky, enforcing the
curfew, made it sinister and dangerous. She had seen the slender beams
of light striking down suddenly. It meant a curfew breaker had been spotted
and eliminated. It was, Marion was assured, an instantaneous death, but
that didn’t make her feel any better about it.
She had liked the Voesian people. When you got past their natural reserve
they were very pleasant, especially the women.
But she had only just worked out their complicated system of government
by a Council of Elders elected by private ballot by each canton of citizens
and presided over by the Prime Elder when the military coup swept across
the planet. The Council were put under house arrest and the Prime Elder
taken prisoner. All citizens were confined to their homes and had not
yet been allowed to come back onto the streets.
The visiting Lord High President of Gallifrey was on a visit to the Air
Force headquarters when the coup occurred. His family were in the city
spending the afternoon with the Prime Elder’s wife. When the soldiers
came to put her under house arrest they escorted the First Lady of Gallifrey
and her companions back to their hotel. They were told they had to remain
there until further instructions were received.
Marion spent a long afternoon and evening trying to find out where Kristoph
was and what would happen to them all. She slept only intermittently,
disturbed not only by her own worries but by the constant whine of the
sentinel ships patrolling over the city and their sporadic firing at those
who defied them.
Now it was morning. She was still waiting. Rodan was sitting on the sofa
playing with a set of toy horses that Marion had bought on one of her
trips to Liverpool. She was practicing dressage with them and making neighing
sounds as the horses were put through their paces.
She looked all right for now, but she, too, was worried. She wanted her
papa back and she wanted to leave this place that had become so much less
pleasant to visit.
They couldn’t leave until Kristoph returned, along with those of
his aides who went with him on that trip yesterday. The others shared
the confinement within the Presidential suite and those with nothing to
do sat in the drawing room with her, waiting for news.
“Madam, you probably shouldn’t stand close to the window,”
said Kristoph’s personal secretary. “We don’t know what
they might do.”
“They wouldn’t dare attack us,” Marion answered, though
she came away from the window as he suggested. “There would be outrage.
We are VIP visitors to this world – from the Dominion homeworld.
They KNOW they have to treat us well.”
“I’m not sure about that, madam,” said one of her personal
protection officers quietly. “I have been monitoring tele-vid transmissions
from the military junta. They are citing intergalactic interference in
the development of Voesian space technology as one reason for the coup.
By intergalactic, they almost certainly mean Gallifrey. The leader, General
Achiae, is probably going to announce secession from the Dominion, next.”
“Good,” Marion responded. “That will save my husband
the trouble of throwing them out.”
Speaking of Kristoph only reminded her that he was still missing. Her
stomach turned with dread once more. Why wasn’t he back with them?
Why had there been no contact?
If he was dead….
“You must not give up hope, madam,” the same protection officer
said. Marion had forgotten that the people around her could easily read
her mind. “They have no reason to treat us well, but they have every
reason to ensure we stay alive. They cannot afford to risk an intergalactic
backlash.”
“By which you mean from Gallifrey?” Marion replied. “But
we have no military might to fight with. The Dominion is based on trade
and cultural associations. Most of our allies outside the Dominion are
peaceful.”
“But they are powerful trade allies,” the secretary reminded
her. “The new Voesian government cannot afford to isolate itself
completely. And any hint of intimidation of foreign hostages would be
fatal for them.”
“Is that what we are now?” Marion said. “Foreign hostages.”
“For the time being, I think so,” she was told. “We
must wait and see what happens.”
And that was all they could do for a very long time. Marion didn’t
even want to see the tele-vid broadcasts. General Achiae was a loud, bombastic
man with too much to say for himself, and the reports of counter-insurgents
crushed were just horrible. That meant that people were being killed for
opposing the coup.
The Gallifreyans spent the morning in their own kind of house arrest within
the suite. At lunchtime they had food provided. They ate out of necessity.
Marion particularly found it tasteless in her dry mouth. She was still
so desperately worried about all their fates.
Rodan fell asleep after her lunch, bored with the talk of grown ups. Marion
would have done the same if she wasn’t so very upset about everything.
“Madam….” The secretary brought her a handwritten note
that had been passed to him by the man who was monitoring the tele-vid
and other sources of information. She read it and her heart sank even
further.
“Is this true?” she asked.
“They are announcing it as so,” she was told. “The General
seems pleased about the development.”
“The General is lying,” Marion said. “The Council of
Elders are ALL elderly men and women. I don’t believe for one minute
that they fought their guards. If they’re dead… then it is
murder… and it is horrible.”
She thought about the people she had met in the time they had spent on
Voesi I. They were not tyrants. They were people who loved their world
and its people and wanted the best for both.
General Achiae just wanted power. His coup was not a righteous one. He
had overthrown the good, fair, freely elected government for his own ends.
And if this note told the truth, he had then had them all executed.
She felt a little sick at the thought.
“On my world, about a hundred years ago, there was a revolution
in a place called Russia,” she said. “The tsar… that’s
a sort of king… and all his family were rounded up and taken away,
and eventually all of them, including the children… were shot dead.”
“I don’t know what happened to their families,” the
Secretary told her. “I will try to find out for you.”
“Please do,” Marion told him. “If only to know just
how dreadful this situation is.”
She felt quite certain that something terrible had happened to almost
everyone she had met on this planet. Even if it was only the members of
the Council, and not their families, it was bad enough. All for nothing
more than a greedy man’s ambitions for power.
Another long hour past. The Secretary couldn’t find out anything
more. All the news was being controlled by the military junta. The people
were still prevented from moving freely. Nobody knew what was true and
what was not.
The historical example of the Romanovs kept coming back to her again and
again. Marion looked around the room at the people who had travelled with
them for so many weeks now. They were staff who always called her ‘madam’
politely, but they were friends in their way, too. The maid who tended
to her clothes and Rodan’s night nurse were both sitting here in
the big drawing room along with the other Gallifreyan staff. This was
their first trip offworld and it had been pleasant for them until now.
Would they all be murdered by the soldiers obeying a General who had decided
that foreign visitors were a danger to his regime?
Dark thoughts like that were still possessing her mind when the outer
door of the suite crashed open noisily. Armed guards poured in accompanied
by a man in military uniform. Marion recognised him as the former head
of security for the Council of Elders. Obviously he was on the General’s
side.
Was this it, she wondered. Were they here to execute their ‘foreign
hostages’? She reached out and held Rodan in her arms. The child
was still asleep, unaware of developments around her.
She was scared – more scared than she could ever remember being.
She had been in dangerous situations before, but none quite so cold and
calculating as this. These men could be about to shoot her and Rodan and
everyone else in the room in cold blood.
“Put those guns away!” said the Secretary in a firm voice.
“These rooms are Gallifreyan diplomatic territory for as long as
we are confined here. It is a serious offence to bring weapons into such
a place. Even your General should know that.”
Marion was surprised by how much like Kristoph he sounded when he said
that. Of course, he had worked at his side for many years. And though
he was merely a member of the civil service, he was, at the same time
a Gallifreyan. He had the ringing authority of a race who had ruled time
and space for thousands of millennia at his command.
She noticed something else, too. The young men in suits who were the CPO’s,
and two men in casual wear who were Celestial Intervention Agency operatives
all stiffened at the sound of his voice, their hands going towards the
places where they kept their own weapons. They were ready to defend the
people in this room to their own deaths.
Perhaps the former chief of security knew that. He signalled to his guards
to lower their weapons – a small but significant compromise –
before saying what he came to say.
“You have been deemed to be undesirable aliens. You are to be deported.
You have half an hour to pack what you wish to take with you, then you
will be taken to your ship. It will be escorted to the edge of the Voesian
solar system by the air force of the Voesian Military Government.”
“I’m going nowhere until I know where my husband is,”
Marion answered him, summoning the same strength that the Secretary had
displayed. “You can tell your General THAT.”
“Half an hour,” the representative of the Voesian Military
Government repeated, without answering Marion or even looking directly
at her. He turned and walked out of the suite, followed by his guards.
“Madam,” the Secretary said quietly as soon as he was gone.
“Take courage in this. His Excellency is NOT a prisoner of these
people. They do not know where he is. That is why he had no answer for
you.”
“Not a prisoner… then where….”
“His Excellency is a resourceful man,” the Secretary reminded
her, hinting, perhaps, at his former career with the Celestial Intervention
Agency. “Until we hear from him, as I am sure we will, I suggest
we make our arrangements to leave. That is one point on which I for one
am fully in agreement with the Voesian Military Government.”
“So am I,” Marion agreed. She gently woke Rodan from her sleep.
“Come on, sweetheart, we have to pack your toys in their box. We’re
going back on our ship.” She turned to the nursemaid and told her
to attend to her own luggage. The same to her maid. “If you would
please put my antique silk gown into a bag, I will take that. The rest
of my dresses have no sentimental value. The General can enjoy wearing
them if he pleases.”
That made everyone laugh. It relieved the tension as they set about packing
their belongings ready to be forcibly removed from the planet in what
would be humiliating circumstances if they were not so very glad to be
going. Marion was worried about Kristoph, still. She didn’t want
to leave without knowing for certain where he was and what had happened
to him.
The packing was done in a very short time. Everyone was gathered in the
drawing room again with their possessions around them, waiting to be told
what to do.
“Do they expect us to carry our own bags?” asked one of the
senior aides.
“We will ALL carry our own bags,” Marion answered. “We
will not ask these people for any assistance. We shall keep our own dignity.”
“There is precious little dignity in being a baggage handler,”
the aide replied. But he accepted the word of the First Lady in lieu of
the President himself.
“Not you, madam,” said the Secretary. “You represent
his Excellency in his absence. We will ensure that you and the little
one are unencumbered.”
“I’ll carry my horse,” Rodan insisted, waving My Little
Pony defiantly. That put smiles on everyone’s faces as they waited
for the soldiers to return.
But before they did, something else happened. Rodan was the first to realise.
She looked at the big plate glass window with that glorious view they
had all ignored for so long. It darkened momentarily and then brightened
not with the pink sunlight of Voesi I, but the artificial light of a TARDIS
interior. Marion’s heart leapt with joy as Kristoph stood in the
doorway.
“Come on, everybody,” he said. “It’s time to go.”
Rodan with her horse was the first to reach him. He lifted her in his
arms and hugged her tightly. Marion, carrying her own luggage –
that one gown made from the antique silk that she treasured – and
Rodan’s bag of toys – was next. Everyone else brought their
bags and cases and loaded them into the TARDIS. When everyone was aboard,
Kristoph closed the doors and the TARDIS dematerialised leaving the window
intact and a puzzle for the Voesian Military Government when their representatives
came back to the Gallifreyan President’s quarters.
“The Presidential ship is on the edge of the Voesian solar system,
after receiving instructions from me,” Kristoph announced to his
entourage. “We will be joining it shortly. There will be no further
interference from the illegal military occupation.”
“How did you get away from them?” Marion asked when she had
a moment. Her husband just smiled and reminded her that he WAS a former
member of the Celestial Intervention Agency and that the two men who accompanied
him yesterday were current operatives from that organisation. He said
no more about how he made it back to the spaceport where his TARDIS and
the Presidential ship both were.
“I’m sorry I took so long to reach you,” he added. “But
the Council of Elders and their families were in more immediate danger
so I picked them up first.”
“They’re alive?” This was news to everyone in his hearing.
“The General claims they were killed while attempting to escape.”
“I knew that was a lie,” Marion admitted. “What will
happen to them now?”
“They’re going to Saintal Pluca along with us – our
next destination. They have been offered asylum there, and assistance
in forming a government in exile prior to an organised counter-insurgency.
Gallifrey, of course, is neutral in the matter except as far as suspending
Voesi I from the Dominion until the legitimate government is restored.”
“Assisting the government to escape is not the act of a neutral
government, Excellency,” his aide pointed out.
“I was a fugitive from the Voesian Military Junta when I did that,
not the Lord High President of Gallifrey,” Kristoph replied with
a wide smile. Then he hugged his wife and child again and praised all
of his staff who had borne themselves with the dignity of their race during
these trying times. Marion made up her mind to tell him exactly how brave
and dignified his secretary had been and ensure the man was properly rewarded
for his efforts.
Rodan asked if there were horses on Saintal Pluca. If so, that planet
would be so much preferable to the one they had just left.
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