Doctor Who_ Set Piece - Doctor Who_ Set Piece Part 6
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Doctor Who_ Set Piece Part 6

Ace shaded her face with her hands, slowly swivelling her gaze around the valley. It was a narrow crack between eroded cliffs, the water-hole an oval smear at the very bottom. The mud she had rolled in on the day she arrived was hard and cracked now, fired into wavy shapes by the sun.

There was nothing out of the ordinary, just rocks and sand. Nothing to indicate that a dimensional portal had ripped open the air and disgorged a woman from the future. Even the animals were gone, hiding from the noon.

Suddenly the TARDIS did not materialize.

'It's been a fortnight,' said Ace. 'They would have found me by now if they were here in Akhetaten.'

40.'Perhaps the bandits kidnapped them,' said Sedjet. 'Or maybe they just went on their way.' He wandered over to a boulder and sat down in its shade.

'There's nothing here.'

Ace was shaking her head. 'They wouldn't just leave me here.' There was an itchy panic in her stomach. 'They must not be able to find me. But they'll come. They'll come for me.'

'Maybe they think you're dead,' said Sedjet.

Ace turned to squint at him. He looked up at her, his doe-eyes round, staring. He seemed to be looking at every part of her body at once.

'What're you thinking about?' she said, after a while.

'I'm hungry,' he said.

Ace shook her head again. 'I'm just going to have to wait it out. The Professor says patience is a virtue, right?' She stalked the sand, agitatedly, wanting to find something she'd missed. 'Patience.'

She felt Sedjet's eyes on her movement. Don't say anything, she prayed silently, don't say anything at all.

Ace wasn't sure which of the nobles was hosting the party. She probably wasn't the only one; everyone was plastered. Someone fell out of one of the boats with a massive splash, and his friends hauled him back aboard, laughing, before the crocodiles could get him.

She was lying back in the canoe, working her way through a whole roast chicken. Sedjet stood in the prow, a throwing-stick raised in one hand. He wore only a kilt, and his muscles rippled, glistening in the morning light.

It had been a pretty typical party, one of dozens she'd been to over the last two months. They'd been up all night, stuffing themselves with food, drinking beer and wine because Nile water was full of mud and parasites. She was one of several foreigners at the party; the Pharaoh's predecessor had been busy conquering the world, and business and people had flowed back into Egypt from its new colonies.

The smell of perfume and lamplight clung to Ace's white dress. In one of the boats, a lone musician still played a flute, blind eyes half closed with fatigue and booze.

A dozen waterfowl jumped into the sky from a clump of rushes, frightened out by a gang of servants. Sedjet hurled his stick with surprising precision, given the amount of wine he'd drunk, and a bird shrieked and hit the water.

A servant came splashing out through the shallows to collect it.

The big man turned those doe-eyes of his on Ace, hoping for her approval.

She waved at Sedjet, and he gave her a littleboy smile. She had last seen Sedjet's wife snoring on the mansion floor, someone's pet monkey eating dates off her back.

41.There was a whoop and a giggle, and someone else's boat collided with them. Sedjet stooped, grabbing at the sides of the canoe to keep his balance.

'Tell us another story, Tepy!' chorused the half-dozen men and women on board.

Ace rolled her eyes. Sometimes she didn't care for the weight of history at her back, going over it again and again. But she was singing for her supper.

'Where did I get up to last night?'

'You were being held prisoner by the traitor.'

'Oh, yes. That's right.' Ace pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes.

London was an eternity away. Such a long time ago. 'Someone rang the doorbell. Mike went to see who it was.'

'Who was there?'

'What's a doorbell?'

'Never mind,' sighed Ace. 'It was the little girl, the one the demons had given magical powers to. She struck Mike down with a bolt of lightning.'

'Oh!'

'That's a shame, I rather liked him.'

'Served him right for serving the demons, didn't it.' They were like children, lapping up the tale.

'I like these stories.' Sedjet held his kill by the neck. 'Lots of action.'

'We like them with a bit of sex and violence!' hooted someone else.

'You might not have liked it so much if you were there,' growled Ace, looking Sedjet in the eye. 'Men I like have the bad habit of dying.'

Someone passed her a bowl of beer, and she splashed it in her face. 'It's so hot!'

'It's always hot, here,' someone snorted. 'Did you hear about that letter from what's-his-name, you know, that prince? "Let Pharaoh perish in the sun if he wants, but let my ambassadors stand in the shade!"'

Someone hissed for them to be quiet, while others tittered. 'I like Akhetaten.

Thebes was mouldy and full of beggars. I like living in new buildings.'

'If they didn't lean over at funny angles!'

More giggling. Thankfully, they had forgotten about the story.

'You want to go hunting?' asked Sedjet.

'You're too drunk,' said Ace. 'You'll fall out of the chariot again.'

They both laughed. 'She,' Sedjet was trying to tell the assembled company, 'she is the best hunter I've ever seen. Besides myself, of course.'

'I'm a better hunter than you,' she scolded, 'and a better senet senet player.' player.'

'I always win!'

'Only because I let you.'

42.'She shot a jackal running at full speed,' Sedjet boasted to his friends. 'I mean, the jackal was running, no, wait a moment, she was running as well.

But what I mean is '

'Shut up, Sedjet,' muttered someone. 'I'd like to meet this Sinu of yours. My own physician's magic is pitiful. He couldn't cure a stubbed toe.'

'Maybe you can meet him when he comes to get me,' she said.

Sedjet's mouth pulled into a line, and he rolled over, rummaging in the remains of the feast for a chunk of mutton.

'What happened next?' said the blind flautist.

'Yes, tell us more about the places you've travelled to!'

Ace closed her eyes. How many more parties was she going to have to attend? How much longer?

The sun banged down on Akhetaten, bashing against the white walls of the closely packed houses, making the sandy streets hot enough that you had to wear sandals.

Even at night it was still hot. It had been dusk when she took a horse and chariot from Lord Sedjet's estate, leaving the wide plain of the city behind and travelling over the rocky desert until she came to this place. Now she sat with her legs dangling down over the cliff edge, the warmth of the stone soaking through her sheath dress. Two months and she still wasn't used to the heat.

Her torch had long gone out; there were spares in the chariot. Her bow and quiver were slung over her back. Sometimes she looked up at the sky. It was more stars than black. She'd seen skies like that in Sumer, travelling through the countryside after dark, the Industrial Revolution five millennia away. The air was pure, you could taste it, taste the desert, hot dust and hot rocks. If there were animals, Ace was sure she'd be able to smell them. Assuming, of course, Lawrence of Arabia hadn't already shot them all.

Suddenly the Doctor did not walk up and say hello.

Chief Scribe Sesehaten had helped her with the library. She'd peer at the hieroglyphs over his shoulder, tidy rows of writing on long papyri. She was illiterate. All those years of school for nothing. A tiny frown crossed her face again, but she put it out of her mind.

They had searched histories, business records, religious writings. There had been no sign of the Doctor.

She didn't believe it. He'd been everywhere, man. He must have visited Egypt. There must be something. The whole country ran on written records, ledgers, receipts, letters. Everything counted; everything recorded.

There was one fragmentary papyrus that had made her laugh. The Daleks had been to the pyramids. Now, that was just bizarre. But the fragmentary account didn't make it clear whether the Doctor had been there too.

43.They searched through the writings from Sumer. Any record of their visit had become so intermixed with the general muddle of half-truths about Gil-gamesh that it was lost to time. They searched through stories from Punt and from Syria. There were hints from time to time, stories of gods or heroes that made her think of him, or imagine Benny.

trying to drag both of them at once, cursing with frustration Smiling as she read about her own adventures on a fragment of pottery five thousand years her senior.

But there were no messages, no hints as to what she was supposed to be doing. So she sat on a cliff overlooking the place she'd woken up, every night she could, the personal force shield generator tight around her wrist.

It was shaped like a wristwatch, a tough elastic band with a small, solid disc of machinery attached. One evening, working by the light of a smoky lamp, she'd used a sliver of wood to peel open the casing. Then she'd stared blankly at the insides for half an hour. Sorry, Captain, but I can't bypass the warp phase Sorry, Captain, but I can't bypass the warp phase dilithium diagnostic coils. dilithium diagnostic coils. Without the proper tools, all she'd be able to do was break the thing. Without the proper tools, all she'd be able to do was break the thing.

The boiling light in the organic ship must have been part of the space-time fracture. She'd seen spatiotemporal anomalies, knew the headachey geometry that surrounded them. Benny must have travelled through it, breaking the glass wall inwards as she arrived, spat out of the rift like an irritation in reality's mouth.

She must have planned to escape the same way, and had been expecting them to be ready to leave.

So the desert outside Akhetaten was one of the rift's endpoints one of the places it bit through space-time, creating a sort of gateway. It made sense that the Zargoids were using one of those gateways to steal the passengers off spaceships. And then freeze them.

Why?

And was there anything for them to steal in the desert?

So Ace sat on the cliff watching the blackness.

There was a sound behind her, and she was turning before she thought about it, the bow coming instantly into her hand. She'd nocked and aimed an arrow before she realised it was Sesehaten the scribe.

'Jesus in a rocking chair,' she said. 'I could have perforated you.'

Bad, bad, bad. She should've heard him coming, should've seen the dim flicker of torchlight coming up over the ridge behind her. She gingerly pointed the arrow at the ground, letting her cramping hands relax, feeling the crick in her back from sitting still for too long. She had goosebumps. Sesehaten did that to her sometimes, for whatever reason.

'I'm sorry I frightened you, Tepy,' said Sesehaten.

44.'You didn't. What the hell are you doing here?'

'I wanted to be sure you were alright.'

'You should know that I can take care of myself.'

Sesehaten nodded, the torch bobbing up and down slightly. 'I hadn't realised you were coming out here at night.'

He didn't ask why. Ace sat back down again, holding her bow across her lap.

'The Red Land is very beautiful, especially at sunset and sunrise,' Sesehaten said behind her. 'It's so different to the Black Land around the Nile. So untouched. It seems so simple, but it's so complex. All those ripples in the stony cliffs, all those particles of sand . . . ' His voice trailed off into the night air. Ace had never heard him speak like that, all he ever talked about was bills and receipts.

She turned her head to look at him, half-expecting yet another proposition.

She knew by now that foreign women were fair game. On the other hand, being a foreigner meant being able to bend the rules at least, a little more than a native Egyptian woman might have been able to bend them. She still had to prove herself nearly every day, demonstrating over and over that she could wield the weapons and that she wouldn't shrink with fear.

She and the Assyrian had been boozing one night when he'd decided she had to get married to the next serving boy who came to their table. The poor waiter hadn't been able to work out why they broke into drunken giggles.

'That's all women are good for,' growled the Assyrian, chugging the black stuff down. 'Making bread and babies.'

'Ah,' snorted Ace, 'but all men are good for is braining one another with swords.'

'Which job would you prefer?' he said, spilling beer down his front.

Ace laughed. 'I can do both both.'

Her laughter echoed inside her head, like the laughter of Chinese women lined up in a courtyard. Sesehaten was looking out at the desert, the immensity of the Red Land, cloaked in the blackness of the sky.

Out of nowhere the storm came, as desert storms come. Pink lightning cracked, the air stank of ozone, and the water came down. Ace stuck out her tongue to catch some. The valley rattled as the sudden flood swept through crevices and down alleys, boulders and chips flying in the torrent.

She wanted to show it to the Doctor, hear him say clever things about weather and butterflies and grains of sand. She kept thinking of things she wanted to tell him; she kept wanting to ask Bernice questions about Ancient Egypt.

They watched the storm, listening to the roar of the water. Water and movement in the silent, dusty desert. They were lucky to catch this rare moment 45 of chaos. 'You don't really have weather here, do you?' said Ace. 'The same forecast every day. Hot. Nothing changes.'

'How much longer?' asked Sesehaten.

'While there's life,' she said firmly, 'there's hope. Just as long as it takes.'

'Race you to the top!'

Ace craned her neck back. The sun was behind the top of the Great Pyramid, creating a halo of harsh light around the tip. Sedjet was already clambering agilely up the first few steps. He sat down on one of the sandstone blocks, looking down at her.