CODE: S2/S3
Episode Three
Greg Miller
The Relic
The sun crept slowly over the horizon, painting the sky through shades of indigo, blue and azure. A new day was dawning over Senate Square.
To counter the rising levels of luminescence and noise, Nick dragged the bed clothes over his head. He groaned quietly in protest at the unwanted intrusion on his sleep.
Once upon a time, before he was human, Nick had never slept. While some others of the Forum slept the years away, he always had something to do, a new experience to collect, a new conversation to have. Sleep seemed like a waste of time.
Now he had some understanding of why those others spent all their time sleeping, and wanted more of it himself.
“Once upon a time.” Heh. Must have picked that up from listening to the Doctor telling Falex stories when he was very young, a couple of weeks ago. It seemed a little odd to Nick that the Doctor appeared to be experienced with raising kids - it didn’t seem like him at all. And yet, when you’re human, how can you truly know the full extent of anyone else’s life?
He rolled over in his bed, realising that he had passed the point where returning to sleep was a matter of simple relaxation. Must be time to stop arsing about and get up.
And… yes, there they were. The familiar morning smells of three very good reasons to get out of bed. Bacon. Eggs. Coffee. The Doctor must already be up and in the kitchen.
Almost made the day worth looking forward to.
* * *
Pausing briefly to look back up the impossible staircase that led to the upper storey of the single-storey building, Nick heard a familiar scraping sound behind. Turning, he saw the Doctor walking away from Falex and a large portion of bacon and eggs. For a little fella he sure ate a lot.
“Ah, Nick, there you are!” The Doctor’s welcoming smile was partially concealed by his greying beard, but the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable. “I’ll just slip some more bacon on, and I assume runny yolks are still your preference?”
“Yes, please!” said Nick to the now turned back of the Time Lord. He took his accustomed seat at the table next to Falex. His query as to Falex’s health was greeted by a smiling pause in the rapid demolition of the youngster’s breakfast. Giving Falex’s shoulder a quick squeeze, Nick got up from the table to the coffee machine. While the coffee he made was less flavoursome than that produced by the Doctor, Nick was determined to become a more skillful barista and practice was required.
“Doctor?” The questioning voice of Falex was almost lost behind the sound of the coffee machine. “How can this meat be ‘bacon’? I read that bacon was the meat of the pig, which is an Earth animal. Surely none of them still exist?”
“That’s quite right, Falex, although your definition of bacon is a little imprecise. Bacon is from the back or sides of the pig, it is pickled or salted and then dried, usually in smoke. This meat is from another source, a domesticated animal bred by the Qux, the flesh of which can alter in texture and flavour with the right stimuli. The eggs and ‘coffee’ are the closest I have yet found. The coffee is fine in flavour, but lacks the full caffeine kick that so many humans used to rely upon.”
It was Nick’s turn. “Doctor? What about that girl we saw just after we arrived on Alpha Centauri? In the restaurant? She sure looked human…”
“Looks can be deceiving, Nick. I’ve lost track of the number of times people have mistaken me for a human. Shows a lack of perception!” The Doctor chuckled heartily. “Some other races also look human. Take, for instance, the Dulcians. A cursory glance at the appearance of humans and Dulcians might lead you to believe they were the same race, but a few simple medical checks would soon reveal otherwise.”
“Doctor?” As Falex spoke, the Doctor and Nick exchanged glances. Once Falex started asking questions, there was almost no stopping him. “Tell me all about the Dulcians… ?”
“Now Falex, I’m in the middle of cooking! Why don’t you wait until you are finished… oh, you are finished!” the Doctor concluded ruefully, looking at the boy’s plate, clean apart from some yolk smears. Anyone else would have indigestion! “Nick and I have yet to eat, so why don’t you go wash and come back. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
After Falex had left the room, Nick turned to the Doctor. “Are you sure Falex is OK?”
“Nick, your concern does you credit but it is quite unnecessary. Falex is a Taurean, and like all Taureans of his age he is going through a very rapid growth spurt. Physical and mental maturity must be achieved much faster than most races, so the entire resources of their bodies are channelled into this growth. Gaining food and information are overriding obsessions. The Taurean parents employ their natural empathy to monitor their child’s emotional well-being. Falex may seem odd to us as we aren’t empathic, but he appears to be quite normal for a young Taurean.”
“If you say so… He seems very, I don’t know… spooky?”
“No two children are the same, Nick. I remember my granddaughter… Don’t look so surprised!” the Doctor said in response to Nick’s sudden dropped jaw. “As I was saying, Susan used to develop the strangest obsessions. She even insisted on attending a school on Earth to be around children her own age, despite my warnings that staying in one place would lead to problems. And then there was her taste in music…”
“Speaking of Earth, that girl couldn’t be from there, you think?”
“Nick, it’s a big universe. It isn’t outside the realms of possibility. There have been many tales of alien abductions and, speaking from personal experience, not all of them malevolent. You met Brad, he was from Earth, and my travelling companions sometimes choose not to return home. Or any number of phenomena could carry a human away from Earth - space warp, time storm, dimensional rift. But all of these things are rare. I would suggest she just looks human.”
“I guess I’ll never know unless I meet her!”
“I wouldn’t count on that happening, but then my experience tells me unlikely things are always happening. Sometimes the most unlikely things are inevitable. Now, grab a plate and I’ll serve this up and give Falex his surprise.”
Breaking from his reverie, Nick saw that the Doctor had the frying pan in one hand and an egg flip in the other, and that a freshly scrubbed Falex was staring across the room at them, his eyes large and soulful. Meeting the boy’s gaze, Nick used the link they shared to look into his mind. Whatever was happening in there was happening way too fast for Nick.
* * *
The Doctor placed a box of bits and pieces on the table after Nick had removed the dirty crockery. “EnalcKarnip drew this little lot to my attention. This box contains several items from Earth’s solar system. Exactly how they escaped the Cyber invasion is anyone’s guess.”
The plastic box was of a size that it was best moved with two hands, and contained what looked like a collection of junk. The Doctor’s hands sorted deftly through the contents, and withdrew three books. “Here you go, Falex. Forgotten knowledge from a lost civilisation!”
The young Taurean greedily grabbed the books from the old man’s hands, his face flushing a deeper shade of amber in his excitement. “They’re all in English! Thank you, Doctor…” He selected a small book, garishly titled Professor X in an exciting adventure with the Trods, and began to read, completely absorbed.
Nick reached out for the box, only to have his hands batted away. “Careful! The artefacts in this box are quite possibly unique, and should be handled gently! It contains the remains of the civilisations of the solar system, a rare area of space to have spawned no fewer than five sophisticated and civilised races.”
“Hang on! If they’re so precious, how come Falex gets them?”
“Books are the easiest things to assess, Nick. Aside from that lurid piece of juvenile science fiction he’s currently perusing, the rest of Falex’s surprise consists of an accounting text and a copy of Fifty New Creative Poodle Grooming Styles. But there is something here I’d like your help with.” As if performing sleight of hand, the Doctor withdrew a dagger from under the pile of alien bric-a-brac. No, hang on - not a dagger, the hilt and broken blade of a sword! And what a sword… The hilt was shaped like a helmeted warrior, the stump of the blade serrated. The metal had a strange green tinge, and there were a number of circular glyphs that appeared etched into the sword and filled with gold. The Doctor turned the sword hilt over in his hands, briefly examining the handiwork, and then handed it hilt-first to Nick. “What do you make of that, then?”
Nick gripped the hilt firmly and delicately felt the edges and the break in the blade. “You mean other than that it’s broken but you could still do someone a nasty with it? Looks like high quality work, no real signs of corrosion or substantial dings. Don't recognise the symbols, though…”
“What you are looking at, unless I am very much mistaken, is the remains of an item from the planet Mars. I don’t recognise what it is, but given that it is almost certainly the last of its kind, it would be a criminal act to risk damaging it by anything other than an external examination. However, there is another potential source of information…”
* * *
Arse!
Nick leaned up against the immense plain concrete wall, hoping he looked inconspicuous. This was the last place he wanted to be!
He couldn’t imagine coming here under any circumstances other than because the Doctor asked him to. No matter how you described it or the label you stuck on it, a prison is a prison is a prison. One you were inside, there was no getting out unless the people who ran it wanted you to.
And just being here made Nick feel like having a strong drink, or maybe one of those cigarette things. Or both! He knew that either would be bad for him, but something about being human had changed the way his body reacted to things to a continually surprising degree.
Double arse with a side serve of bollocks!
Well there was no two ways about it, hanging around here would just make him look suspicious. Time to bite the bullet and go to the front gate.
Tugging nervously at his ponytail to get it neat, Nick walked off like a man condemned.
* * *
Big door, buzzer and camera lens. Yep, this’ll be the prison alright. No point arsing about…
Nick’s thumb pressed a little more hesitantly than it should on the buzzer button. A little light next the camera suddenly lit up red as the camera swivelled and the lens focussed on his face.
“Federation Interment Centre 5486, can I help you?”
“Um, hi! I’ve come to visit the, um, prisoners…” Nick felt stupid talking to a camera lens and a speaker grille.
A buzzing noise and the door clicked before sliding open. “Please enter.”
Nick walked down the corridor, the door sliding shut behind him, locking with an audible click. That was that then, there was no easy way out.
The corridor ended in a functionally appointed area, with someone sitting behind a desk. Looks like a woman, maybe one of those Doxians the Doctor mentioned, or whatever they were called.
Then their eyes met. It was her, that girl from the restaurant! What the hell was she doing here? And why was she looking at him like that?
“Um, Hi! I’m Nick and…”
“…you’ve come to visit the prisoners. You said.” The girl tilted her head, squinting at Nick. Her chestnut ponytail cascaded over her shoulder.
Nick found the intensity of her gaze unnerving. “Have we met before?” he asked. “I saw you from a distance just after we arrived here on Alpha Centauri…”
“And you’ve been stalking me? Is that why you are here?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! We’re getting this off on the wrong foot! Stalking? Me?” Nick stepped back from the desk, his hands in the air and his worst fears confirmed - prison guards are all psycho! Better start talking, before she locked him up and threw away the key. “Look, I didn’t know you worked here. I didn’t come here to see you. And I’m definitely not stalking you or anyone else! I’m here because a friend of mine wants some information from the Ice Warriors you’ve got banged up here.”
“I’m sure I’ve seen you before. I just can’t think where…” She gave Nick’s face one last hard stare before sitting down again. “OK, tell me what you want.”
“Um, look, my friend runs a shop called 'Honest Doc's 2nd Hand Curios'. He gets all this… stuff in. He's got something he thinks is an Ice Warrior sword, or half of one in any case."
"Ice Warrior?" The guard asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
Nick kicked himself. The Doctor had told him that 'Ice Warrior' was not a term used this side of the twentieth century. "Martian," he corrected, then continued once Alf nodded in understanding. "Given the current situation, trying to get anything out of them through formal channels would be a waste of time, so he thought that the Ice Wa- erm, Martians, imprisoned here may be able to shed some light…”
“OK, I don’t know how much you know about this place. I’ve only been working here a short while, so I got a crash course when I started. When the Martians betrayed the Federation fifty years ago, this particular group were serving as an honour guard for the Federation headquarters. They were immediately imprisoned, their in-built weaponry stripped away…”
“Wait a minute! You say they’ve been imprisoned here for fifty years? I understood these guys are great fighters… They must be really pissed off by now!” Nick shook his head in bewilderment - exactly how did the Doctor think he was going to get a bunch of hard-arsed long-time cons to chat nicely about some piece of ancient history?
“That’s just it. Apparently these blokes had pledged their lives to defending the Federation HQ, and when the Martians broke away from the Federation these blokes regarded that as an act of treason. They willingly submitted to their internment here as some kind of gesture that not every member of their race would break their word. Frankly, they are an embarrassment to the Federation - arguably some of its most loyal subjects who are kept under lock and key because the average citizen only ever gets to hear and understand the very narrow views on the holonews. Soundbites never explain anything properly. I only came to work here because someone suggested it, and it seemed better than waiting on tables." Upon saying that she looked away, momentarily taken up by something else. She looked back at Nick and smiled. "But I’m glad to work here now because these blokes deserve better treatment than they’ve been given and at least I can do my best to make sure the rough deal these blokes have got is smoothed out a bit.”
“So they’re just waiting for the Federation to realise their loyalty and release them?”
The guard shook her head. “I believe they are waiting for their own race to redeem itself and rejoin the Federation. I don’t think I could be that patient for fifty minutes, let alone fifty years!”
“And what about… Hey! I don’t even know your name.” Nick looked expectantly at the girl. Hopefully he’d reached a point where the two of them had got beyond the prison guard/potential prisoner stage and if she’d only give her name, hopefully that’d make him a real enough person to not have to worry about never being released again.
“Sorry, Nick. My name’s Alf. I expect you were going to ask about your request to visit the prisoners?” As Nick nodded, she continued. “One of my concerns is that they get next to no external stimulation, and rather than letting them go completely stir crazy, I’m more than willing to let you in to see them. Before you go in, I’ll have to explain the rules. First up, you can’t take any weapons in. You didn’t bring that sword you mentioned?”
“Nah. The Doctor gave me this.” Nick pulled a small device from his pocket. “It’s a holoprojector with an image of the broken sword that it can project like this. And if I twist these controls, I can enlarge it, reduce it, rotate it…”
“Very neat. OK, here’s the rundown on the rest of the rules…”
* * *
As Nick approached the door to the icy common area in which the Martians spent their day, he went over Alf’s tips again. They are a civilised and cultured race. They respond to courtesy. They’ve been locked away for fifty years and anything new is likely to be a welcome distraction. Hoping against hope that this was not some monumental wind-up that Alf was perpetrating - not that she seemed to confirm to his mental image of a psycho prison guard - Nick snuggled into his borrowed coat and walked calmly to the door and stood waiting as the camera lens again focussed on his face.
“Good luck!” Alf’s transmitted words gave him a last reassurance before the door slid aside and he entered the presence of the Ice Warriors.
As he walked forward, hopefully looking more confident than he felt, Nick pushed back the sudden urge to say ‘Take me to your leader!’ Ten helmeted heads swung towards him, their eyes hidden behind lenses. From what Alf had said, they continued to wear their armour despite the weaponry having been removed - which was a limited relief, given the reputed strength of the creatures. Swallowing hard despite the dryness of his throat (no doubt due in equal measure to his nervousness and the lower temperature in this part of the camp), Nick moved his hands in front of him, palms forward and fingers outstretched to show he wasn’t armed. “Good morning, my name is Nick. I was hoping you might be able to assist me with answering some questions…”
One of the Warriors rose, and took some steps towards Nick. He too raised his arms and spread the clamp-like coverings over his hands. “Good day to you. We welcome you to our place of confinement, and hope your visit is not too uncomfortable.” Lowering his arms, the Warrior took a few more steps towards Nick, apparently examining him. The rasping of the Warrior’s breathing wasn’t exactly conducive to calmness. “Tell me, Nick, are you also from Earth?”
“Sorry?” Now this wasn’t a question Nick could have anticipated. “I’m afraid I don’t understand - I thought you guys were from Mars.”
“Our race does indeed originate from the fourth planet of the solar system, but you appear to have misunderstood my question. You appear to be human, a race we thought extinct, but our new warder Alf was apparently born on Earth and hence is a neighbour of a kind to us. Are you too from the planet Earth?”
“No no no. I’m human, but I wasn’t born on Earth.” Alf is from Earth? Now there’s a big puzzle, but not one to be distracted by right now. “Sorry to have misunderstood your question.”
“It is of no consequence.” The Martian drew himself up to his full height and somewhat ceremoniously drew his right arm towards his chest. “My name is Xzalnyr, and it is my privilege to be the commander of this small honour guard. As we are currently prevented from performing our oath-bound duties, we will willingly entertain your request.”
“Ah, thanks.” Nick was feeling a bit out of his depth. The snootiness quotient of this conversation was at a higher level than what he was comfortable with. “OK, if I can cut straight to the chase… What do you make of this?” Nick held the hologram projector forward and activated the image, projecting the replica of the sword into the air between himself and Xzalnyr. As he rotated the image so that the broken end wasn’t pointing directly at the Martian’s chest, Nick thought he heard a slight catch in the Martian’s rasping breathing. Looking up suddenly at Xzalnyr, however, Nick could see no outward sign of any disturbance to the Warrior.
“This… broken blade does indeed appear to be the work of my people. One of my men is more learned in historical matters than I. If you will excuse me one moment, I will bring him to examine this.” The leader of the Warriors turned and stalked off to the far side of the room, and beckoned towards the smallest of the Martians. As the two returned to where Nick awaited, it appeared that the commander was saying something to his junior, but whatever was being said was over before they were in earshot of Nick.
“Nick, this is Vlaash. Vlaash is of the Order of Oras, and ministers to the spiritual needs of my men. Those of his order spend more time learning of the less martial aspects of our history and hence he is likely to be in a better position to answer your question. I have instructed Vlaash that he is to answer your question freely.” Xzalnyr took a small step back, positioning himself so both the hologram and Vlaash were easily in his line of sight.
“Thanks. Um OK, Vlaash, as Xzalnyr may have told you, this broken sword has come into the possession of a friend of mine. It appears that Martian blades are not something he knows a lot about, so he’s asked me to ask you guys to tell us what you can.” This was all going easier than Nick had expected, but this Vlaash character appeared to be uncomfortable - the only times he took his eyes off the hologram was to shoot glances at his commander.
“This sword is indeed of Martian manufacture. By the style of the blade, I would suggest it is very old, possibly an heirloom blade of one of the great houses.” Vlaash paused, and looked briefly at Xzalnyr. “A weapon of this sort would be of great spiritual significance to its family, even in this broken form. It may even be that the sword was broken in battle, which may increase its significance.” Vlaash raised his eyes and met Nick’s for the first time. “You must tell your friend to be careful with this sword - he must not tamper with it. A sword of this age may have hidden protections, to prevent it from being dishonoured if it fell into enemy hands. An attempt to remove the hilt could activate a hidden spike, designed to inject a poison into a Martian body. For someone as unarmoured as yourself, it would surely be fatal. It should be kept safe for the safety of all!”
“Vlaash, that will be enough.” Xzalnyr stepped up to the little Martian, turned him away from the hologram and gave him a gentle push towards the other Martians. “Members of the Order of Oras provide a necessary service, but they lack the discipline of a true warrior. Please excuse his excitement - I believe that will have arisen from encountering a piece of Martian history after such a long confinement.”
“OK, well thanks. I really appreciate what you guys have done. It sounds as though this sword-thing is good to look at but serves no practical purpose - ah, that is, except to commemorate the triumphs of a great Martian family. That’s real important, of course.” Nick smiled uncertainly, hoping he’d gotten away with that slip. Hard to tell with these guys, with the lack of outward signs of emotion on their faces they’d make great poker players! “Look, is there anything we can do to help you?”
“I thank you for your kind offer, Nick. However, our needs are few and well catered for until the Federation government again calls upon us to render our sworn service, I cannot think of anything you could provide.” Xzalnyr paused and glanced back at his men. “However, it is possible that Vlaash may recall something more when this moment of undue excitement passes. If you could leave the holoprojector and a contact address, if he comes up with anything more I will ask the human guard to pass the information on.”
“That is really kind of you, Xzalnyr! I don’t see any reason why not…” Nick turned over the deactivated holoprojector to the commander and gave him the address. “I’m sure the Federation will come to their senses soon. I mean, they really are missing out with you guys locked up here…”
“Such matters are not for me to comment on, Nick. We are sworn to service, and will follow the dictates of honour. In the meantime, I thank you for your visit here and for allowing us to be of service once more.”
* * *
The sun crept slowly towards the horizon, painting the sky through shades of azure to blue.
For Alf, the working day was over. Whatever her life had been before Alpha Centauri, she was becoming comfortable in her new job. Comfortable, but not completely fulfilled.
That was something she’d have to think about.
* * *
The sun crept slowly towards the horizon, painting the sky through shades of blue to indigo.
For Nick, a night on the town in Senate Square beckoned. The Doctor had seemed happy enough with the information he’d received. The sword itself was now hung up on the wall awaiting further consideration.
But that was something for another day. For tonight… well, time would tell!
* * *
The sun set below the horizon, painting the sky through shades of indigo to black.
For the Doctor and Falex, a quiet night of checking the young Taurean’s personal lessons waited. The Doctor looked out the window, thinking about the future he wanted to avoid.
There was very little that could be done tonight. But his plans were unfolding…
* * *
Night fell over Senate Square.
In Federation Internment Camp 5486, Vlaash led Xzalnyr and his troops in prayer. Before the assembled company, the hologram of the sword was projected. Vlaash was pleased to note the increased reverence the image of the holy object brought to the group.
When the prayer was over, Xzalnyr came to the front to address the honour guard. “Today has been an unusual day in our long imprisonment. It has brought us news that the sacred Sword of Tuburr has fallen into alien hands. This is something which we cannot accept. It besmirches the honour of every Martian. It falls to us, long shunned by our kinsmen, to restore the Sword of Tuburr to the Martian Empire. No one, not Nick, not this Doctor, will stand in our way.”
He switched off the hologram. “Tonight, these walls that have sheltered us will cease to be our prison. Tonight, we liberate the Sword of Tuburr from alien bondage. Tonight, we write our names on the pages of history!”
Next Episode:
The Sword of Honour
CAST
Brian Blessed as The Doctor
Nick Pereira as Nick
Sal DeDeripho as Alf
Toshiro Mifune as Xzalnyr
Anton Glanzelius as Vlaash
and
Haley Joel Osment as Rahlena Falex
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