'I'll enjoy taking you apart, circuit by circuit,' it murmured.

122.

Chapter 9.

'I'm Shythe Shahid and this is The Empire Today The Empire Today , on the spot, on , on the spot, on and off the Earth. Today's headlines: Evan Claple, anchorman for and off the Earth. Today's headlines: Evan Claple, anchorman for The Empire Today The Empire Today , died last night in an incident at his home. Initial , died last night in an incident at his home. Initial reports suggest that his long time partner, Cherri O'Halloran, has reports suggest that his long time partner, Cherri O'Halloran, has been taken into custody by the Order of Adjudicators. Also, as the been taken into custody by the Order of Adjudicators. Also, as the Asian Undertown riots spill over into a new day, questions are asked Asian Undertown riots spill over into a new day, questions are asked at the Imperial Court. All this, and the latest news on the fighting on at the Imperial Court. All this, and the latest news on the fighting on Murtaugh and Heaven, after this important message . . . ' Murtaugh and Heaven, after this important message . . . '

'For Ra.s.silon's sake!' the Doctor yelled as the Imperial Landsknecht scout vessel Moorglade Moorglade emerged from hypers.p.a.ce into a blazing inferno. 'You've put us in the centre of a star!' He clapped his hands over his eyes, shielding them from the glare of the bloated sun which filled the forward screens and washed out the stars and the velvet blackness of s.p.a.ce. 'Quick,' he cried, 'get us out of here! We'll burn up!' emerged from hypers.p.a.ce into a blazing inferno. 'You've put us in the centre of a star!' He clapped his hands over his eyes, shielding them from the glare of the bloated sun which filled the forward screens and washed out the stars and the velvet blackness of s.p.a.ce. 'Quick,' he cried, 'get us out of here! We'll burn up!'

Beltempest just laughed. 'Don't worry! We're heavily shielded, didn't I tell you?'

Although the Doctor couldn't see anything, his sensitive Time Lord senses could make out the soft sounds of Provost-Major Beltempest's fingers caressing the controls, and the slight shift in local inertia as the ship came around on a curving path towards the sun.

'Sorry about the light,' Beltempest said, with no trace of sincerity in his voice. 'Perhaps I should have warned you about that as well.'

Peering through the gaps in his fingers and squinting hard, the Doctor could just make out Beltempest's bulky, four-armed shape like a cardboard cut-out in front of the glowing white screen. It looked as if his ears were folded across his eyes.

'Yes,' the Doctor said 'perhaps you should.' Then, louder: 'Can't you polarize the screens or something?'

'I already have,' Beltempest rejoined. 'They're on maximum.'

Sniffing, the Doctor tried to tell if there was any burning insulation. That was usually the first sign that a ship's shields were failing If only they'd travelled in the TARDIS. He wouldn't have worried then. Type 40s were rated for environments up to and including quasars.

If only he knew where the TARDIS was.

123.If only he knew where Bernice was.

He shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind and locked them up in a small cabinet that he reserved for stray worries. Time for that later. Concentrate on the here and now. He sniffed again, but the shields seemed to be holding. Beltempest had been right.

As the Doctor's eyes adjusted better to the light, he began to make out features on the surface of the sun: darker spots the size of planets and lighter cracks that broke the surface up into jigsaw piece areas. Typical stellar photosphere. He could still remember the droning voice of Lady Genniploritreludar, the Arcalian lecturer in stellar engineering back in the Academy. 'Theta Sigma, pay attention at the back there. Recite for me, if you will, the fifteen stages in the life cycle of the main sequence sun.' Odd, the things one could remember when one tried. He still had problems recalling the operating codes for the TARDIS, but trivial points of fact from nine hundred years ago were as sharp as a pin. It probably had something to do with the Time Lords mucking about in his mind before they regenerated him and exiled him to Earth. They liked to think they knew what they were doing, and they had a.s.sured him after that Omega business that they had repaired all the damage, but he was sure that his memories were still holed like a gruyere.

Outside the ship, a smaller, darker circle moved rapidly across the face of the sun. Ionized gas streamed behind it like veils.

'What's that?' the Doctor asked.

'What's what?'

'That object. It looks like it's...o...b..ting.'

'You can see it?'

Beltempest turned and unfurled his ears a fraction so that he could squint at the Doctor.

'Only just,' the Doctor said. 'But it looks like a planet.'

'It is.' Beltempest gestured back over his shoulder. 'That's Dis.'

'A planet orbiting inside the photosphere of a sun?'

'What better place for a prison?'

The Doctor shrugged. 'A good question,' he said to himself. Man's ingenuity in finding uncomfortable places to imprison other men would never cease to amaze him.

The ship was engaged in a tail-chase with the planet now, and as their spiral path bottomed out, the edge of the simcord screen cut off the light from the sun. The streaming plasma still washed out all the details from the control room, but at least the Doctor could make out some of the details of Dis. The planet bristled like a hedgehog but, unlike the hedgehog, the bristles had an offensive as well as defensive capability. Mountainous laser turrets and plasma-gun emplacements, their sides melted and seared by the heat, tracked 124the ship as it approached. It wasn't a new experience for the Doctor, being the target of so many weapons, but he still didn't like it.

Beltempest guided the ship by intuition into a low orbit, travelling along a ma.s.sive valley between the clifflike faces of energy collectors, under the watchful eyes of the guns. With an unexpected delicacy of touch, he guided it in to a small, crater-like landing pad, thick with the acc.u.mulated stellar dust of millennia.

'Welcome to Dis,' Beltempest said.

'Not a place I would wish to spend my holidays,' said the Doctor. 'I thought I'd been to some unpleasantly hot places in my time, but this one takes the entire packet of biscuits and the factory as well.'

'You were the one that wanted to come.'

'I hadn't seen the travel brochure then. How did this place get built?'

As Beltempest shut the ship's systems down, and a thick metal iris sealed off the landing pad from the relentless torrent of radiation and heat, he said: 'The Empire appropriated it from a race called the Greld, centuries ago. They resisted our . . . advances, and so the Empire launched a quark bomb into their sun, forcing it from a white dwarf to a red giant. The outer layers of the sun exploded, sterilizing the solar system and annihilating the Greld. It struck the Empress at the time that the system would make a perfect prison, and so she ordered that one be built. And here it is.'

The dome finally closed above them. Everything was in darkness for a few moments while the Doctor's eyes adjusted to the lower level of illumination from the red-hot metal of the landing bay. The light altered, darkening and shifting through red down to infrared as the bay cooled, and smaller glow-globes around its edges flickered uncertainly into life. Figures in bulky thermal suits moved cautiously from recessed doorways towards the ship. They were armed, of course.

'Well,' said the Doctor, 'let's go and see whether Professor Zebulon Pryce is at home to visitors today.'

Light spilled around his body like water around a curved stone in a river bed. Green light, bright as a sun, washing out his thought, his personality, everything that he was, wearing him down, layer by layer, atom by atom, until it found the him he used to be . . .

. . . and Daph Yilli Gar was lying along a padded bench in the navigator's cubicle, his eyestalks inches above the gnarled, rootlike organic control nexus of cubicle, his eyestalks inches above the gnarled, rootlike organic control nexus of the the Skel'Ske Skel'Ske , the new Hith fighter. His pseudo-limbs caressed the warm surface, , the new Hith fighter. His pseudo-limbs caressed the warm surface, leaving trails of light in their wake as he sensed his way through hypers.p.a.ce. The leaving trails of light in their wake as he sensed his way through hypers.p.a.ce. The vibration of the hyperdrive was an almost s.e.xual thrill deep in his stomachs, and vibration of the hyperdrive was an almost s.e.xual thrill deep in his stomachs, and 125 125he blushed a dirty grey colour as he felt the skin along his flanks pucker into a row of small lumps, ready to fire impregnating darts at any pa.s.sing female. row of small lumps, ready to fire impregnating darts at any pa.s.sing female.

Thank the G.o.ds of Hith that Captain Vap Oppat Pol was in a separate cubicle and had recently gone through the Change from female to male. The last thing and had recently gone through the Change from female to male. The last thing they needed was an inadvertent coupling right here on the bridge. Even if the they needed was an inadvertent coupling right here on the bridge. Even if the two of them were the only crew for this first flight, it would be so shameful that two of them were the only crew for this first flight, it would be so shameful that Daph would have to pay a scapegoat to kill itself for him. Daph would have to pay a scapegoat to kill itself for him.

In front of him, the simcord screen showed only the deep, featureless grey of hypers.p.a.ce, but under his hands he could feel, through the nexus, currents and hypers.p.a.ce, but under his hands he could feel, through the nexus, currents and rapids, undertows and reefs, and the occasional slippery touch of something half rapids, undertows and reefs, and the occasional slippery touch of something half alive sliding away from his touch. The way this new ship responded to hypers.p.a.ce alive sliding away from his touch. The way this new ship responded to hypers.p.a.ce was like nothing he had ever experienced before. The tension was making his was like nothing he had ever experienced before. The tension was making his skin dry out and the underside of his basal foot knot up, but he had never been skin dry out and the underside of his basal foot knot up, but he had never been so proud. To think that a member of the Pir clan had been chosen as navigator so proud. To think that a member of the Pir clan had been chosen as navigator of the of the Skel'Ske Skel'Ske ! !

'Navigator,' growled Vap Oppat Pol from the command cubicle. 'Are we ready to emerge from hypers.p.a.ce?' He sounded tense, and Daph Yilli Gar could imagine to emerge from hypers.p.a.ce?' He sounded tense, and Daph Yilli Gar could imagine his eyestalks standing erect upon his flat head and his flanks running with mucus. his eyestalks standing erect upon his flat head and his flanks running with mucus.

Perhaps it was the Change still affecting him, or perhaps it was the honour of being the first captain of this, the Hith's newest, finest, experimental s.p.a.ceship. being the first captain of this, the Hith's newest, finest, experimental s.p.a.ceship.

'Ready, captain,' Daph Yilli Gar acknowledged. 'Captain, may I ask ?'

'You'll find out where we are when we emerge,' Vap Oppat Pol snapped. 'Until then, shut up!' then, shut up!'

Daph Yilli Gar scrunched himself up in the command chair. The war against the pestilential humans was going badly, but it didn't do anything for ship's the pestilential humans was going badly, but it didn't do anything for ship's morale to have a captain who kept things from them. morale to have a captain who kept things from them.

'Prepare to emerge,' Vap Oppat Pol said. Daph Yilli Gar's tentacular fingers caressed the shivering nexus of the control panel, feeling for the granularity of caressed the shivering nexus of the control panel, feeling for the granularity of hypers.p.a.ce, ready to wrench it apart and drop them into real s.p.a.ce. hypers.p.a.ce, ready to wrench it apart and drop them into real s.p.a.ce.

'Now!' Vap Oppat Pol shouted.

Daph Yilli Gar wrenched at the fabric of unreality, and the grey of the simcord screen cleared to reveal a star-strewn black backdrop, against which stood fifteen screen cleared to reveal a star-strewn black backdrop, against which stood fifteen Earth Empire heavy cruisers, weapons primed and aimed directly at the Earth Empire heavy cruisers, weapons primed and aimed directly at the Skel'Ske Skel'Ske . .

'Captain!' he screamed, 'shall I . . . ?'

'No,' Vap Oppat Pol said calmly. 'No, you won't.'

A terrible realization swept over Daph Yilli Gar, but before he could make sense of it his eyes were filled with . . . of it his eyes were filled with . . .

. . . Bright green light, washing away the barriers that had been built up, leaving him amid the wreckage of his mind, trying to piece the bits together.

126.'Come on,' Bernice drawled, 'you cannot be serious!' She threw the mind probe down on Cwej's bed. It hung, suspended in the repulsor field, a few inches above the surface. On the screen, Forrester could make out the frozen images of Bernice and her friend the Doctor. The Doctor's mouth was open, just as he was about to deliver the words that condemned both of them as murderers.

'What do you mean?' Forrester was affronted. Suspects weren't supposed to talk to investigating officers like that.

Then again, interrogations weren't supposed to take place in the bedroom of one of the interrogating officers. After Cwej's mother had more or less forced them to eat some breakfast, she had given them the free run of Cwej's old room for their 'meeting'. She and Cwej's father had apparently left it untouched since he had left home, apart from letting the cleaning bots go over it once a month. The walls were plastered with GALAXY'S MOST WANTED simcords mixed with a smattering of sim-stars and even a couple of semi-naked viy music singers in erotic poses. Models of starships hovered on repulsor fields from the ceiling, some of them with a battery-operated short-distance warp capability.

All very telling, Forrester thought.

On entering the room, Bernice had immediately flung herself on the bed.

Cwej, after a nostalgic and faintly embarra.s.sed look around at the place where his childhood had been spent, had made for an auto-adjust chair beside a work surface. That left Forrester, much to her disgust, with a small floating armchair that fitted around her hips so tightly that it looked like a fashion accessory, and would only take her weight with a good deal of buzzing and quivering.

'I mean, just look at this!' Bernice waved the mind probe at Forrester. 'It makes no sense.'

Forrester cast a sour glance at Cwej, who was lounging around in his chair with his gun in his lap, flicking through a sim-book. 'Hey, hairball! Pay attention!'

Cwej looked up. 'Sorry,' he said, blushing.

'Yeah, you'd be sorry if she slit my throat while you were buried in kid's stuff.'

He looked sceptical. 'You think that's likely?'

'Well there's one way to find out for sure, isn't there?'

He threw the book onto the desk and picked up his gun. 'You win, as usual,'

he muttered.

Forrester turned back to Bernice. 'That's very patently you in the memories of the underdweller. No ifs. No buts.'

127.'Look,' Bernice sighed as she hovered a few inches above the bed, 'let me get this right. Someone called Waiting For Justice, who lived down in the Undertown, was killed by someone called Annie, who also lived down in the Undertown. It originally looked like one of these motiveless murders that you've been getting, which the Doctor reckons are caused by some kind of radiation leak. You, however, think Annie's memory of the murder was implanted, and that Waiting For Justice was actually killed by the Doctor and me, on the basis that she saw us a few hours before you picked her up, even though I deny ever having seen her before. Is that a fair summary?'

'The phrase "condemned with your own words" springs readily to mind.'

'The phrase "faked evidence" springs to my mind. You've already admitted that the evidence has been faked once. Why can't it have been faked a second time?'

Forrester shrugged. 'What's the point?'

'The point is,' Bernice said in exasperation, 'that you were clever enough to penetrate one lot of false evidence, so the villains of the piece, whoever they are, concocted a second set to throw you off at a tangent. In the process, they decided to frame the Doctor and me for some reason which I have yet to fathom, but which probably has something to do with the theft of the TARDIS.'

'The what?' Cwej wanted to know.

'The . . . Never mind.'

'Once we start on that route,' Forrester said sceptically, 'there's no end to the levels of faked evidence we could a.s.sume. I've got a rule of thumb for this sort of thing. If there's any evidence that the evidence is faked, then I'll believe it. If not, I won't.'

'Fair enough.' Bernice stared at the image on the screen. 'There must be a clue here somewhere. Something out of place, some little thing . . . ' She bit her lip. 'Did you say that we said something?'

'Yeah. Press the CONTINUE key.'

Bernice did so, and the images shifted slightly. A voice drifted out of the probe: 'Bernice, we make a fine pair of murderers.'

'Your friend's voice,' Forrester said.

'No, it's not,' Cwej said, beating Bernice to the punch.

Forrester stared at him. 'What do you mean?' she said.

He blushed. 'I mean, it's not the same voice as the man we saw on Purgatory.'

'Of course it is.'

Cwej shook his head stubbornly. 'No. We've got the wrong man.'

Forrester couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd gone out on a limb for Cwej after he'd sprung that tale about faked mind probe records and mys-128terious calls to Adjudicator Secular Rashid, and here he was, calmly telling her that he'd been wrong!

'It's not the Doctor's voice,' Bernice agreed. 'Listen to it.'

She fumbled with the controls, and managed to replay the sequence.

'The accent is missing, and the stress on the words is different,' she continued.

Forrester tried to remember the voice of the little man on Purgatory. Quite harsh, with an odd little roll on the R sounds. This voice, the voice on the mind probe record, was different: smoother, more tentative, with an odd little questioning lift at the end of the sentence.

'All right,' she said. 'I'm prepared to be convinced. How do you think this image got on here then?'

Bernice thought for a moment.

'I think somebody implanted this sequence in the memory of the mind probe. I think they used images of the Doctor and me they picked up from a camera somewhere, but I don't think they knew what our voices were like.

For some reason, G.o.d knows why, they chose a voice for the Doctor, but it doesn't match the Doctor's real voice.'

There was a pause as Forrester thought through the implications of that.

'h.e.l.l,' she said finally, 'this is big. We need to send a message to Provost-Major Beltempest to make sure he doesn't do anything rash to the Doctor. It would also be useful if I could hear the Doctor's voice again, just to be sure.'

She looked at Cwej. Judging by his expression, he was still a few minutes behind on the conversation.