Nothing.

With a shrug he returned to his chair and settled down again. A second later, the knock was made again. Sighing to himself, once again he opened the door.

Facing him was an elderly lady, possibly the oldest Pel he'd ever seen. She wore a long purple robe with silver lining on the cuffs and neck. Her greying hair was up in a bun, but her eyes still sparkled blue. Despite her age, this woman, the Doctor thought, had once been very beautiful and that beauty had matured into a stately elegance.

Amba.s.sador Centauri said you had changed your appearance, Doctor. I had not realized quite how much.'

The Doctor smiled. 'You have me at a disadvantage, my Lady,' he started but the lady smiled and put her fingers to her lips to quieten him.

'May I come in?' she whispered.

The Doctor nodded and she walked past him, pulling her robe up lightly. As she turned, her profile was caught by the flickering light of a flambeau behind. The Doctor took a good look at the lady before him and finally recognized her.

'My apologies, Lady Lianna. I have been clumsy in my manners.'

'Nonsense, Doctor. You are as elegant and charming as ever. After all, when you were last here I was but a handmaiden to Queen Thalira.'

The Doctor raised a hand to quieten her this time. 'Nonsense. You do yourself a disservice. Queen Thalira talked of your friendship with the highest regard. She held your views, opinions and advice far higher than any other. And none other of her staff were prepared to accompany her to the mines when fleeing Azaxyr's wrath.'

Lianna smiled at the memory. And that was such a long time ago. I simply came to re-acquaint myself with you and hope you would remember a loyal servant.'

Indeed I do, my Lady. But I also remember a loyal friend and that is far more important to me.'

'Talking of old friends, Doctor, I see you are travelling with Professor Summerfield. I just wondered what became of Miss Sarah Jane Smith. Her guidance to the queen and myself during that awful business with Galaxy Five was not only useful at the time, but the queen radically reshaped Pel society as a result.'

The Doctor indicated for Lianna to sit but she declined. 'When I next see her,' he said, I shall tell her that. She will be very pleased indeed, I am sure.'

Lianna turned to go. 'Doctor. There are things I must tell you. Things that I cannot say to the other Federation representatives. But you . . . you are an independent, despite your Federation connections. You have the trust and friendship of Peladon and I fear events will soon occur that could seriously affect our future prosperity.'

Is that why you asked me to be quiet at the door? In case you were heard?'

Lianna smiled tightly and humourlessly. 'No, Doctor. I asked for quiet in case my daughter saw me here. She would not approve.'

'Your daughter. . .'

Lianna opened the door. Another time, my friend. For now, I am glad you are back. Whenever Peladon faces danger, it makes use of its guardians.

Twice both you and Aggedor have saved us. Now there is no Aggedor and the full responsibility falls upon your shoulders. We will talk after dinner.'

With that, Lianna was gone.

The Doctor sat on his chair to ponder the significance of her words. 'Her daughter would not approve? I wonder. . .'

His reverie was interrupted by another knock. Lianna again? He crossed and opened it, to face a chest. At least he guessed it was a chest. It was hairy, bits of it were wrapped in leather and it was wider than the doorway.

He looked up slowly. Looking down on him was a veritable giant of a man.

His black hair was streaked with its traditional mauve wave, and a scar ran down from hairline to jaw on the left side of his face. At his side he wore a ma.s.sive double-bladed axe.

Are you my escort? Is it dinner time already?' The Doctor realized his voice sounded unusually quiet and mousy. Then again, his visitor was unusually large and stocky. The giant nodded, baring some very crooked teeth in a wide grin. The Doctor nipped back and stuffed a red-spotted handkerchief in his breast pocket, did up his matching red-spotted tie and smiled back. 'Lead on, old chap. I'll just follow you.' His silent companion, not unsurprisingly, led on.

A few minutes later and the Doctor stood outside the throne room. A jumble of memories flooded back. Jo Grant, Princess of TARDIS. Sarah Jane Smith and her Women's Liberation. lzlyr and Ssorg. Azaxyr and Sskel.

Eckersley and Arcturus. Hepesh and Ortron. Every fifty years he returned to Peladon and gave it a little push. Friends and enemies helped or hindered.

What of Savaar and Sskeet? Were they friend or foe? Were they the danger Lianna feared? Why was Alpha Centauri still here, years after he should have retired? Why had his old friend, now the Federation Chair, sent Damakort to Peladon when Savaar was regal enough an observer? To observe the observer? All these questions and not enough answers.

He stared at the huge double doors, Aggedor's face carved, as ever, into them. The giant pushed them open and the Doctor took a deep breath. He looked down and saw his hand was shaking.

Bernice tried to hide the relief on her face as the Doctor finally arrived. He bounded forward, winked slyly at her and dropped to one knee in front of King Tarrol, sitting to Bernice's left.

'May I have permission to address the king?' asked the Doctor.

Tarrol nodded back in courtesy and the Time Lord arose. Tarrol then stood himself, reached across the dinner table and held his hand out. The Doctor shook it and Tarrol grinned. Alpha Centauri a.s.sures me that is the correct greeting on such an occasion. I'm not exactly sure, however, of its meaning.' The Doctor still held Tarrol's hand. It goes back many thousands of years to Earth's rather vicious history, Your Majesty. In ancient times the warriors would drop their swords and grip each other's sword hand - therefore fighting could not continue. It marked peace. Now, it symbolizes friendship and trust.'

'Your record, Doctor, on our planet already imbues you with our friendship and trust.'

I am grateful. I hope I can gain your friendship and trust personally as well as regally.'

Tarrol nodded. I hope so too. Now, please join our feast. Your companion, Professor Summerfield, is a most amusing guest: The king looked at the giant who had escorted the Doctor. 'Thank you, Torg. Please join us.'

The Doctor sat to the right of Bernice and smiled warmly at her. She grinned back and spoke through gritted teeth in a manner only the Doctor could hear: 'Thank G.o.d you're here. He's very sweet but boring as h.e.l.l.

And chauvinistic!' The Doctor took a spoonful of broth. A hundred years ago you'd have been put to death for not having royal blood in your veins if you so much as breathed in here. A lot has changed: Bernice tugged at her unleavened bread. 'He said they actually make this stuff by hand on occasions like this.'

'Things have changed even more than I thought. Last time I was here, it would always have been like that, not just on special occasions. The Federation influence is ma.s.sive. And something is very wrong, by the way.'

The Doctor casually leaned across the table and absently removed a gla.s.s of wine which was nearing Damakort's expectant hand. He swiftly placed a gla.s.s of water in the boy's hand, ignoring the venomous look he received as a result. To add insult to injury he calmly topped up Bernice's gla.s.s by pouring the procured wine into hers.

'What makes you say that?' 'An old friend told me. I'll explain later.' He casually raised his own gla.s.s and gently toasted Savaar and Sskeet sitting opposite him. As he expected, Sskeet ignored the gesture and Savaar made an even smaller toast back.

'Still some chairs empty, I see,' murmured the Doctor as he finished his broth. Bernice looked around the L-shaped table. The king was at the head of the largest bit. She sat to his right, the Doctor to hers. Dead opposite her was Damakort and next to him the giant Torg. Then Sskeet, Savaar and Alpha Centauri. Next to the Doctor was an empty seat and beside that a couple of high ranking Pels. On the other section of the table was Geban, who she'd learned was the king's chancellor, and two other courtiers. At the far end were two people she was especially interested in. One was a tall, regal old lady in exquisite purple, and beside her was a tubby, fussy little man who picked at his food melodramatically, laughed raucously ever so often although no one else did and had an annoying habit of twiddling his fingers nervously before picking up the next bit of food. At the head of that section of the table was another empty seat.

Pretending to be pointing at a dish of jelly-like relish, the Doctor's fork aimed squarely at the older lady. 'That's Lianna, the friend I mentioned.'

The Doctor dipped some meat into the relish. I imagine the empty seat is her daughter's. I a.s.sume they don't get on.'

'She should make the most of her mother while she's still got one,'

murmured Bernice.

'Quite,' said the Doctor. His fork speared a large piece of root vegetable. I wonder who's supposed to be next to me.'

'Probably the guy whose just walked in. He certainly isn't the old one's daughter, anyway.'

Tarrol rose again and shook hands with the newcomer. The man bowed slightly and crossed to Savaar.

'My Lord, what a very great pleasure to see you again.'

Savaar placed his arm across his chest in Martian salute. The human copied the gesture perfectly. Savaar nodded and said, I trust you are well after your vacation, Mister Reece?' Nic Reece grinned boyishly. 'Too right, old chum. I needed the break. Four years on one planet is a long time.

Even a planet as charming as this,' he added quickly and apparently sincerely to the king. Tarrol merely smiled and waved towards the empty seat beside the Doctor. As Reece walked around he stopped behind Damakort's seat.

'Hiya Kort, how's things? Dad sent you out here now, has he?' Kort nodded, any words lost in a mouthful of meat and vegetable. But his eyes flashed a smile. Bernice noted the way Kort seemed to relax the moment he was spoken to. Nic Reece was obviously an old friend of everyone.

Reece turned and looked across at her and the Doctor.

'Doctor! How wonderful to see you again. New body I see, but the nose is a definite improvement.' The Doctor shook hands as Reece seated himself.

It's been a very long time, Mister Reece. You're looking very fit and healthy.'

Oh you know me, Doctor. I try to keep fit and healthy. Little jog around the catacombs twice a day keeps the flab at bay.' He dropped his voice sotto voce as he pretended to take a swig of wine. And it gets me away from Centauri's fl.u.s.terings for a few hours as well.'

The Doctor nodded understandingly. 'By the way, I don't think you ever met Professor Bernice Summerfield. She's an archaeologist.'

Reece shook Bernice's hand enthusiastically. 'Marvellous, quite marvellous. You'll love Peladon, it's rich in artefacts. Hmm, I notice Atissa's not here yet.'

'Lianna's daughter?' inquired the Doctor, topping up Reece's wine.

'More than that, Doctor. She's Peladon's high priestess and totally loathes me. Luckily the feeling is intensely mutual.'

Bernice leaned over. 'So who's the camp one boring the pants off Lianna?'

Oh that,' Reece smiled. 'That's Neal Corry, top holovid bigwig for GFTV-3, here to cover the restatement vows and keep his ratings up. Do excuse me; if I don't say h.e.l.lo to him, he'll sulk for days.' Reece popped a chunk of meat in his mouth and stood up. 'See you, Professor. Good to touch base again, Doctor.' He sauntered over and Lianna's face lit up with pleasure at his arrival. Bernice guessed it was a mixture of delight at his presence and relief that Corry would have to simper over someone else. She grinned.

She liked Reece a lot.

'You dark horse, Doctor. You didn't tell me you knew someone as h.o.r.n.y as that!' The Doctor finished off his drink. 'Must have slipped my mind, Professor. Funny thing, the memory.' He poured himself some more wine and offered the decanter to Bernice.

She shook her head and placed a hand over her gla.s.s. 'What d'you mean?

Didn't you know he was going to be here? He seemed very pleased to see you again. We don't meet too many old friends of yours who you can say that about.' she added wryly.

'Thank you.' The Doctor again rescued some wine away from Damakort.

'Nice chap, that Nic Reece. Only one thing wrong with him.'

'I knew it,' groaned Benny. 'What now?'

'I've never set eyes on him before in my lives. Nic Reece may know me, but as far as I'm concerned, he's a complete stranger.'

Fehler reached the top of the ravine. He hauled himself up the last few centimetres and lay on the top, panting. Of Professor Sharrod, there was no sign. Picking up his kit, he wandered back to their encampment by the cave mouth.

After ten minutes walk he was suddenly aware of the quiet. Surely the others in the group couldn't have been asleep.

'Winmill? Gris? Larroq?' No response. He shivered suddenly. He could have sworn . . . no . . . it wasn't possible. And yet he felt as if he was being watched. 'Vega Lexus?' he called out to the redheaded Braxiatel burrower that the University had placed with the group. Lexus was, like all his Vegan race, perfect for cave explorations - his infra-red sight and strength made him ideal for investigating places like those on Pakha. Professor Sharrod hadn't wanted him along, but as the Braxiatel Collection was co-funding this, what they wanted was law and - What was that? 'Professor? Gris, are you lot p.i.s.sing about? I'm not in the mood for-' Fehler stopped. His flashlight picked out a form. He knelt down and grimaced as his trousers soaked up the water he'd knelt on. He aimed his light down, gasped and recoiled back. 'Lexus?' he tried to say, but it only came out as a hoa.r.s.e croak. With horrified realization he touched his knee and shone his light at his hand. It wasn't water, it was blood. Vega Lexus' skull had been caved in savagely. He shivered again, and started running back to the encampment.

'Gris! Larroq! What the cruk's going on?' Fehler tripped over Winmill's body first. Fehler didn't exactly like Winmill - he was too d.a.m.n good-looking by far. All the girls fancied him. He also got to bed most of them. Nevertheless, seeing that renowned handsome face staring up at him, its neck twisted at a very severe angle, Fehler felt very sick.

And very frightened.

Slowly now he moved forward. He could see the dim light of the phosphorous fake fire at the encampment. A figure could clearly be seen hunched over it.

'Professor Sharrod?'

'Come over, m'boy,' Sharrod replied. I've made a fascinating discovery, Fehler. Really exciting.'

'But Professor . . . Vega Lexus, Winmill . . .'

'They couldn't see my discovery, Fehler. Couldn't understand what I now know is true!' Fehler was at the encampment. He could see Larroq's body - her throat tightly bound by the Professor's rope, her dead eyes bulged in panic. Beside Sharrod, still moving slightly, was Gris. The Professor's trowel was embedded deeply into the back of his neck and every time Gris tried to move, another small spurt of blood would spray up. But Fehler's attention was on Sharrod. He wore the Diadem on his head and his hands were now pressed against his temples.

'I am the first, Fehler. The first non-Pakhar to wear the Ancient Diadem. I now understand its power. I understand its aims and ambitions!' Fehler managed to find his voice, although it was a bit strained. 'Aims? Ambitions?

Professor Sharrod, it's only a crown. A piece of regalia. A Pakha artefact!'

Sharrod's face twisted in fury, highlighted by the green phosph.o.r.escence.

Artefact! What do you know, human sc.u.m?' Fehler frowned. 'Professor, you're human, too. Not a Pakhar or anything else . . .'

Sharrod kicked out at Gris, causing more sprays of blood. Some of it splashed across Fehler's cheek but he gritted his teeth and ignored it.

'Professor, what have you done to our friends?'

'Friends?' shrieked Sharrod. 'Friends? They are alien trash. I . . . we are all that matter. I am - ' Sharrod was cut off as a plate-sized hole appeared in his chest. He fell dead, face-first into the fake fire, the Diadem falling off his head. Fehler looked up. Four black clad, heavily armed figures stood at the cave mouth. A woman with long, red hair lowered her blaster.

'Thank you,' she said. 'You've saved us a long and boring search.'

A man stepped forward, his manner suggesting he was their leader. Okay, Lambert, Cooper. Get the vacuum case and get the Diadem. Use the rods to pick it up - it mustn't touch anyone's body.'

Fehler watched as a woman with cropped brown hair and a blond man walked over with a large plastic container.

Open,' said the man. With a hiss the lid slid back. The red-haired woman gave her two a.s.sociates a long metal rod each and they scooped up the Diadem, dropped it in the box and the man told the container to close. With a hiss of escaping air the lid shut, vacuum-sealing the Diadem inside.

Okay Townsend, it's ours,' said the red-haired woman.

'Right, Sadler. It's your responsibility now.' Townsend looked down at Sharrod's dead body. 'Thanks, Prof.'

Sadler carried the box while the blond man searched Sharrod's body.

'Nothing else.'

Okay, Lambert. Let's go.'

The crop-haired woman waved her blaster in Fehler's direction. 'What about him?' 'Yes,' cried Fehler. 'Please get me away from here!' Townsend paused. 'Cooper, it's up to you,' he said to the crop-head.

Fehler stepped forward, smiling desperately at her. 'Hi, my name's Pol Fehler and I -' Cooper blasted his head off.

As the mercenaries walked away, the Ancient Diadem safely in their possession, Gris's trowel-embedded neck gave one final spasm and his last gush of blood erupted and splashed on the floor, mingling with that of Sharrod and Fehler.