Fic: Solid Skies, Chapter 17/19
Aug. 13th, 2009 10:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veldeiaTitle: Solid Skies
Author: Veldeia
Series: Sequel to Hollow World
Fandom: Doctor Who
Warnings: WIP
Characters/Pairings: 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, OCs. Gen.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If you've seen it on TV, it isn't mine.
Summary: After surviving one big cave, the Doctor, Martha and a caving team from the Sixties find themselves in even more trouble on a planet full of caves.
17. The Palace
Before leaving the apartment, Martha and the Doctor dressed in the protective suits again. They would at least offer them a disguise of sorts, and possibly, as the Doctor cryptically added, a tram ticket as well.
They found the park without any major trouble - they only needed to hide from a search party once. Meg was waiting for them under what looked like a tree, but turned out to be a stalagmite with grass growing on top of it. She handed them a small metal disk containing the data. She also suggested she should come with them, to act as their guide, but the Doctor wouldn't let her. "It's too risky. If something goes wrong, the consequences might be nasty. You're better off hiding until we've managed to sort this out."
Martha glanced at him, frowning. "Don't you dare even think about leaving me behind," she told him adamantly. "I'm coming with you."
He grinned. "Of course you are! I said 'we', didn't I? So, bye, Meg, and thanks. Let's go."
"Where exactly are we going?" Martha asked him as they walked out of the park, retracing their earlier steps. She was getting more than a little frustrated with people constantly dragging her along to mysterious places without any proper explanations.
"We're going to meet the Chairperson," the Doctor said cheerfully.
"Huh? How are we going to do that? We're dangerous rebels, remember?"
"With their help," he said, waving at the group of guards approaching them, clearly without the slightest intention of even trying to hide.
The guards surrounded them quickly. They were a meaner-looking bunch than any Martha had seen so far, and she was sure that all the big weapons they were carrying were not just stun guns. Still, the Doctor didn't seem the least bit worried. "Remember, I've got the Plague," he whispered to Martha, and suddenly, lurched sideways to lean on her.
"Hello," he said to the guards. "Took you long enough to find us."
The guards stared at him suspiciously. "No tricks," one of them said. "You'll come with us to the Holding Facility. We're authorised to use deadly force if you resist."
"Oh, but you don't want to shoot me, you really don't," the Doctor said, now sounding weak and tired. "You're going to take me to the Chairperson, straight away."
"Are you mad? We'll do no such thing!"
"Not mad, just very sick. You see, if you don't do as I say, or if you do a single move towards harming me or my friend Martha here, I'll open this suit. Shoot at me, and the effect will be exactly the same," he said, not threateningly, but wearily, like a teacher repeating something for the third time to a really slow pupil. "Any violence, and you could be facing the worst pandemic ever seen in this corner of the galaxy."
The guards were looking more hesitant now. "But - but they said you no longer have the Plague!" one of them said.
The Doctor stood up straight, slowly, as if it hurt. He was doing so good an impression of the sickness that Martha almost started worrying for him again. "Oh, that would be great, wouldn't it?" he said. "No such luck. I thought I had a cure, but it didn't work. You know the Plague. You simply don't get better from it."
"You could be bluffing," another guard tried suspiciously.
"Well, I could," the Doctor said, and took a few unsteady steps towards the guards. "But do you want to risk it? Risk becoming the person who has doomed the entire city, maybe even the entire planet? Take me to the Chairperson. After I've seen her, I'll be all yours. Of course, by that time, I'll most likely be all crystal, too, but I guess you won't really mind that."
"He's dying, and he's desperate," Martha backed him up. "You'd better do as he says. The Doctor's not one to make empty threats. He means every word of it."
The other guards were casting worried glances at the one who had spoken last - she seemed to be the one in charge. She stared at the Doctor in turn, her face grim. "Very well. We will escort you to the Palace. We'll see what happens there," she said, somehow managing to sound as if she was still in control of the situation.
So, they had their tram ticket, just like the Doctor had said. They walked to the First Level, where the guards stopped the first passing vehicle, emptied it of passengers, and ordered Martha and the Doctor inside. They seemed reluctant to come near the two of them, let alone touch them. Now that Martha had a good idea of what the Plague was like, she couldn't blame them. Faking the Plague was a good ploy, like the Doctor's plans usually were. The disease was so scary that even the possibility of it was a very powerful threat.
The part of the city where the guards took them was all new to Martha. After a quarter of an hour of cruising through the familiar, not too wide tunnels, they emerged in a passage almost twice as big as the previous ones. The doors and edifices in the walls were huge as well, every bit as impressive as the entry to the Halls of Justice had been. The tram stopped before the most glamorous entrance of all. It was woven of crystals or diamonds and thin strands of silvery metal, forming a complex lattice, like a very alien variation of a wrought iron gate. It didn't look very sturdy, but no doubt it was reinforced with force fields, or other technological means. Guards in lavishly embroidered silver-and-green ceremonial uniforms stood on both sides of the gate.
As Martha and the Doctor stepped out of the tram, more guards appeared from everywhere around them, these in more functional attire, and armed to the teeth. Some of them even wore protective suits. Martha could also see a crowd starting to gather behind the guards, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of what was going on.
One of the guards in protective clothing stepped closer to address the Doctor and Martha, her face grim behind the mask. "Her Honour, the Chairperson has accepted your request of an audience," she announced, her tone making it obvious that she disapproved of this decision. "You will follow me. Any threatening actions, any failure to do as you're told, and neither you nor any of your friends will ever see your homeworlds again. Is this clear?"
"Crystal!" the Doctor quipped.
Martha had thought she'd already seen all the wonders that the planet had to offer, but once they stepped through the gate, she was proven wrong. It opened into a long bridge crossing a cave chamber, which wasn't very wide, but it was so high that Martha could see neither the ceiling nor the floor. On both sides of the bridge, huge waterfalls cascaded from the invisible heights to disappear into the shadowed depths below. They were perfectly silent, and there was no spray at all hitting those standing on the bridge. Force fields again, Martha reckoned.
At the far end of the bridge lay the most amazing building Martha had seen on the planet. It was all crystal and silver and smooth black stone, and the countless sharp spires, towers and other spiky protrusions gave it a Gothic air. The pale green light shining on it was partially filtered through the waterfalls, and flickered and danced on all the reflecting surfaces.
Martha could've stood there and stared at the Palace for hours, but they were given no time for enjoying the sights. The guards marched them across the bridge at a brisk pace. The Doctor kept shuffling his feet and leaning on her. When she caught a glimpse of his face, his expression looked genuinely tired, and she wondered how much of what he showed was actually real. Martha was feeling a little sleepy herself, in spite of the tense situation. It must be getting quite late already, and she couldn't even remember when she'd last had a good night's rest.
The interior of the Palace was as incredible as its exterior. The countless dimly lit staircases and narrow winding corridors formed a labyrinth even more confusing than the tunnels of Maze City. Martha very much hoped they wouldn't need to try and escape this place, since she seriously doubted they'd be able to find their way out.
At the end of the long walk, they were taken to a room that was far smaller and less ornate than Martha would've expected, more like a living room than a throne room, with a low table and four low armchairs around it. In one of the chairs sat a petite, middle-aged woman with a head of sandy dreadlocks. For a moment, Martha wondered whether this really could be the Chairperson - she had been expecting someone who looked like Neir and Gaer - but the guards greeted the woman with utmost reverence, with salutes and solemn greetings.
"Thank you," she told them. "You may go now."
"But - Most Honoured One, begging your pardon, surely we can't!" the leader of the guards exclaimed. "We can't possibly leave you in the company of these aliens all alone, they -"
The Chairperson stood up. "Thank you, Commander. You may go," she repeated. Her voice was kind, but had a solid, immovable strength to it, like the rock of the planet itself. "And no one is to enter this room again until I say so."
The guards saluted her again, and left, closing the door behind them. The Chairperson returned to her seat, and only then, she actually looked Martha and the Doctor in the eye. "Welcome. Please, sit down," she said, spreading her arms to gesture at the chairs around her. "I've been hearing all sorts of things about you, and we have much to discuss. I'd offer you refreshments, but..."
The Doctor had already landed in the nearest armchair. "Oh, I'd love a cup of tea right now, and there's no but." Before the Chairperson had time to answer, the Doctor had thrown back the hood of his protective suit. "You see, I don't have the Plague anymore. I cured it," he announced brightly. "Although I must admit I'm still a little shaken by the experience. So, tea would be very nice."
The Chairperson nodded at the table in front of them, which was laden with several pots and cups. "Help yourself, Doctor," she said, still appearing perfectly calm, even smiling a little. "To tell you the truth, I suspected as much. Otherwise, I wouldn't have let you come here." She looked from the Doctor to Martha, her pale green gaze keen and piercing.
Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, Martha realised she was still wearing the biohazard suit, and undressed quickly. Unable to think of where to put it, she balled it up between her hands, and sat down next to the Doctor.
"Based on everything I've heard about your actions, I got the impression that you don't want to harm anyone," the Chairperson went on. "I didn't think you'd actually choose to put the entire planet at risk. I'm also quite suspicious of these latest news about you being insurgents."
"Well done, Most Honoured One," the Doctor said approvingly, pouring himself some tea.
Martha thought the world leaders she knew would've considered the Doctor's casual, even patronising tone impolite, but the Chairperson took it in good humour. "Please, this is an entirely informal meeting. Call me T'aikh," she said. "Martha, would you like anything to drink?"
"Um... I'd like some tea, too, please, ma'am," Martha stammered. The Doctor offered her a cuppa, and she had to stuff the smart fabric suit behind her back to accept it. She stared at the cup, perplexed. She found it nearly impossible to wrap her mind around the idea that they'd suddenly gone from being fugitives to having tea with the president of the planet. Had the Doctor known in advance what the Chairperson was like? Had she been less open-minded, this meeting might have been entirely different.
"So, I believe you have a story to tell?" T'aikh said.
"Not a story. The truth," the Doctor replied. "And I've also got a few ideas on what to do about it."
18. The Great Chamber of Justice
Author: Veldeia
Series: Sequel to Hollow World
Fandom: Doctor Who
Warnings: WIP
Characters/Pairings: 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, OCs. Gen.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If you've seen it on TV, it isn't mine.
Summary: After surviving one big cave, the Doctor, Martha and a caving team from the Sixties find themselves in even more trouble on a planet full of caves.
17. The Palace
Before leaving the apartment, Martha and the Doctor dressed in the protective suits again. They would at least offer them a disguise of sorts, and possibly, as the Doctor cryptically added, a tram ticket as well.
They found the park without any major trouble - they only needed to hide from a search party once. Meg was waiting for them under what looked like a tree, but turned out to be a stalagmite with grass growing on top of it. She handed them a small metal disk containing the data. She also suggested she should come with them, to act as their guide, but the Doctor wouldn't let her. "It's too risky. If something goes wrong, the consequences might be nasty. You're better off hiding until we've managed to sort this out."
Martha glanced at him, frowning. "Don't you dare even think about leaving me behind," she told him adamantly. "I'm coming with you."
He grinned. "Of course you are! I said 'we', didn't I? So, bye, Meg, and thanks. Let's go."
"Where exactly are we going?" Martha asked him as they walked out of the park, retracing their earlier steps. She was getting more than a little frustrated with people constantly dragging her along to mysterious places without any proper explanations.
"We're going to meet the Chairperson," the Doctor said cheerfully.
"Huh? How are we going to do that? We're dangerous rebels, remember?"
"With their help," he said, waving at the group of guards approaching them, clearly without the slightest intention of even trying to hide.
The guards surrounded them quickly. They were a meaner-looking bunch than any Martha had seen so far, and she was sure that all the big weapons they were carrying were not just stun guns. Still, the Doctor didn't seem the least bit worried. "Remember, I've got the Plague," he whispered to Martha, and suddenly, lurched sideways to lean on her.
"Hello," he said to the guards. "Took you long enough to find us."
The guards stared at him suspiciously. "No tricks," one of them said. "You'll come with us to the Holding Facility. We're authorised to use deadly force if you resist."
"Oh, but you don't want to shoot me, you really don't," the Doctor said, now sounding weak and tired. "You're going to take me to the Chairperson, straight away."
"Are you mad? We'll do no such thing!"
"Not mad, just very sick. You see, if you don't do as I say, or if you do a single move towards harming me or my friend Martha here, I'll open this suit. Shoot at me, and the effect will be exactly the same," he said, not threateningly, but wearily, like a teacher repeating something for the third time to a really slow pupil. "Any violence, and you could be facing the worst pandemic ever seen in this corner of the galaxy."
The guards were looking more hesitant now. "But - but they said you no longer have the Plague!" one of them said.
The Doctor stood up straight, slowly, as if it hurt. He was doing so good an impression of the sickness that Martha almost started worrying for him again. "Oh, that would be great, wouldn't it?" he said. "No such luck. I thought I had a cure, but it didn't work. You know the Plague. You simply don't get better from it."
"You could be bluffing," another guard tried suspiciously.
"Well, I could," the Doctor said, and took a few unsteady steps towards the guards. "But do you want to risk it? Risk becoming the person who has doomed the entire city, maybe even the entire planet? Take me to the Chairperson. After I've seen her, I'll be all yours. Of course, by that time, I'll most likely be all crystal, too, but I guess you won't really mind that."
"He's dying, and he's desperate," Martha backed him up. "You'd better do as he says. The Doctor's not one to make empty threats. He means every word of it."
The other guards were casting worried glances at the one who had spoken last - she seemed to be the one in charge. She stared at the Doctor in turn, her face grim. "Very well. We will escort you to the Palace. We'll see what happens there," she said, somehow managing to sound as if she was still in control of the situation.
So, they had their tram ticket, just like the Doctor had said. They walked to the First Level, where the guards stopped the first passing vehicle, emptied it of passengers, and ordered Martha and the Doctor inside. They seemed reluctant to come near the two of them, let alone touch them. Now that Martha had a good idea of what the Plague was like, she couldn't blame them. Faking the Plague was a good ploy, like the Doctor's plans usually were. The disease was so scary that even the possibility of it was a very powerful threat.
The part of the city where the guards took them was all new to Martha. After a quarter of an hour of cruising through the familiar, not too wide tunnels, they emerged in a passage almost twice as big as the previous ones. The doors and edifices in the walls were huge as well, every bit as impressive as the entry to the Halls of Justice had been. The tram stopped before the most glamorous entrance of all. It was woven of crystals or diamonds and thin strands of silvery metal, forming a complex lattice, like a very alien variation of a wrought iron gate. It didn't look very sturdy, but no doubt it was reinforced with force fields, or other technological means. Guards in lavishly embroidered silver-and-green ceremonial uniforms stood on both sides of the gate.
As Martha and the Doctor stepped out of the tram, more guards appeared from everywhere around them, these in more functional attire, and armed to the teeth. Some of them even wore protective suits. Martha could also see a crowd starting to gather behind the guards, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of what was going on.
One of the guards in protective clothing stepped closer to address the Doctor and Martha, her face grim behind the mask. "Her Honour, the Chairperson has accepted your request of an audience," she announced, her tone making it obvious that she disapproved of this decision. "You will follow me. Any threatening actions, any failure to do as you're told, and neither you nor any of your friends will ever see your homeworlds again. Is this clear?"
"Crystal!" the Doctor quipped.
Martha had thought she'd already seen all the wonders that the planet had to offer, but once they stepped through the gate, she was proven wrong. It opened into a long bridge crossing a cave chamber, which wasn't very wide, but it was so high that Martha could see neither the ceiling nor the floor. On both sides of the bridge, huge waterfalls cascaded from the invisible heights to disappear into the shadowed depths below. They were perfectly silent, and there was no spray at all hitting those standing on the bridge. Force fields again, Martha reckoned.
At the far end of the bridge lay the most amazing building Martha had seen on the planet. It was all crystal and silver and smooth black stone, and the countless sharp spires, towers and other spiky protrusions gave it a Gothic air. The pale green light shining on it was partially filtered through the waterfalls, and flickered and danced on all the reflecting surfaces.
Martha could've stood there and stared at the Palace for hours, but they were given no time for enjoying the sights. The guards marched them across the bridge at a brisk pace. The Doctor kept shuffling his feet and leaning on her. When she caught a glimpse of his face, his expression looked genuinely tired, and she wondered how much of what he showed was actually real. Martha was feeling a little sleepy herself, in spite of the tense situation. It must be getting quite late already, and she couldn't even remember when she'd last had a good night's rest.
The interior of the Palace was as incredible as its exterior. The countless dimly lit staircases and narrow winding corridors formed a labyrinth even more confusing than the tunnels of Maze City. Martha very much hoped they wouldn't need to try and escape this place, since she seriously doubted they'd be able to find their way out.
At the end of the long walk, they were taken to a room that was far smaller and less ornate than Martha would've expected, more like a living room than a throne room, with a low table and four low armchairs around it. In one of the chairs sat a petite, middle-aged woman with a head of sandy dreadlocks. For a moment, Martha wondered whether this really could be the Chairperson - she had been expecting someone who looked like Neir and Gaer - but the guards greeted the woman with utmost reverence, with salutes and solemn greetings.
"Thank you," she told them. "You may go now."
"But - Most Honoured One, begging your pardon, surely we can't!" the leader of the guards exclaimed. "We can't possibly leave you in the company of these aliens all alone, they -"
The Chairperson stood up. "Thank you, Commander. You may go," she repeated. Her voice was kind, but had a solid, immovable strength to it, like the rock of the planet itself. "And no one is to enter this room again until I say so."
The guards saluted her again, and left, closing the door behind them. The Chairperson returned to her seat, and only then, she actually looked Martha and the Doctor in the eye. "Welcome. Please, sit down," she said, spreading her arms to gesture at the chairs around her. "I've been hearing all sorts of things about you, and we have much to discuss. I'd offer you refreshments, but..."
The Doctor had already landed in the nearest armchair. "Oh, I'd love a cup of tea right now, and there's no but." Before the Chairperson had time to answer, the Doctor had thrown back the hood of his protective suit. "You see, I don't have the Plague anymore. I cured it," he announced brightly. "Although I must admit I'm still a little shaken by the experience. So, tea would be very nice."
The Chairperson nodded at the table in front of them, which was laden with several pots and cups. "Help yourself, Doctor," she said, still appearing perfectly calm, even smiling a little. "To tell you the truth, I suspected as much. Otherwise, I wouldn't have let you come here." She looked from the Doctor to Martha, her pale green gaze keen and piercing.
Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, Martha realised she was still wearing the biohazard suit, and undressed quickly. Unable to think of where to put it, she balled it up between her hands, and sat down next to the Doctor.
"Based on everything I've heard about your actions, I got the impression that you don't want to harm anyone," the Chairperson went on. "I didn't think you'd actually choose to put the entire planet at risk. I'm also quite suspicious of these latest news about you being insurgents."
"Well done, Most Honoured One," the Doctor said approvingly, pouring himself some tea.
Martha thought the world leaders she knew would've considered the Doctor's casual, even patronising tone impolite, but the Chairperson took it in good humour. "Please, this is an entirely informal meeting. Call me T'aikh," she said. "Martha, would you like anything to drink?"
"Um... I'd like some tea, too, please, ma'am," Martha stammered. The Doctor offered her a cuppa, and she had to stuff the smart fabric suit behind her back to accept it. She stared at the cup, perplexed. She found it nearly impossible to wrap her mind around the idea that they'd suddenly gone from being fugitives to having tea with the president of the planet. Had the Doctor known in advance what the Chairperson was like? Had she been less open-minded, this meeting might have been entirely different.
"So, I believe you have a story to tell?" T'aikh said.
"Not a story. The truth," the Doctor replied. "And I've also got a few ideas on what to do about it."
18. The Great Chamber of Justice
