Doctor Who: Ultimate Treasure (28 page)

There was a murmur of appreciation from the crowd.

'Innkeeper, judge, and philosopher,' Jaharnus retorted angrily

'What do you do in your spare time?'

'Your attitude betrays the stratified envy-ridden society that has shaped you. Here we each perform those tasks we are best suited for without such distinctions. He turned to address Thorrin's party. 'Before many witnesses, you have repeatedly expressed an intention of continuing with your misguided attempts to acquire Rovan's treasure. Is that not so?'

'But that's no crime,' Thorrin protested.

'Do you admit that is your intention?'

'Well, what if it is?'

The villagers in the public benches groaned as though in dismay.

The innkeeper turned to Qwaid, Drorgon, and the Doctor. 'You were observed following in a devious manner and spying upon the first party. Do you deny your intention was to steal from them what they would acquire, thus compounding their crime?'

'I want to see my lawyer,' Qwaid said. 'I don't admit nothing until I've got proper representation.'

'Here your silence or lack of cooperation is taken as an admission,' the innkeeper said simply. Qwaid started to protest, but was jabbed in the back by one of the guards with the butt of a pike until he was silent again. The innkeeper looked at them all gravely. 'You collectively stand accused of greed, acquisitiveness, selfishness, and avarice. How do you plead?'

'What nonsense,' said the Marquis. 'This is not a court of law.

What gives you the right to judge us?'

'We are those who have been reborn into the way of truth and enlightenment,' said the innkeeper solemnly. 'We have renounced the greed and lust for wealth and power that first drove us or our ancestors here. Now we live simply without the misery that money and desire for petty valuables brings.

This has been our way for centuries. Even the Gelsandorans do not dispute our right. All those who wish to pass through our land and beyond the rainbow must first answer to us!' He gestured at the DAVE drones hovering at the back of the room.

let your watcher see justice done, and broadcast the truth far and wide so that this sad tide of misguided seekers will someday cease. Now, how do you plead?'

'Not guilty' said Thorrin contemptuously.

He turned to Qwaid, who shrugged: 'Not guilty.'

The crowd shook their heads and muttered.

'Then we shall debate your case and you may speak in your defence.' He faced the Marquis. 'Should you acquire a portion of Rovan's treasure, what would you do with it?'

'Well, most would be sold.'

'And do any of your companions think that is wrong?' They looked at each other, unsure of how to respond, or where the innkeeper's line of argument was leading.

'Look, I understand you think money's wrong, but we have to have it or some equivalent,' Brockwell said. 'Your small society might be able to get along with barter, but ours can't. It's too complex.'

'Has it tried?' the innkeeper challenged him. 'But it is the dissemination of an evil force we are most concerned with at present.' He turned back to the Marquis. 'How will these items be transformed into money - an auction, perhaps?'

'Probably, for most of it.'

'Where it will be fought over by collectors, each trying to outbid each other?'

'That's up to them.'

'And might these valuables be the object of continuing envy and desire? Perhaps even leading to theft?' He glanced at Qwaid.

'Or even murder to obtain them?'

'That's pure speculation!'

'But is it impossible?'

'Well... no.'

'Is it not in fact a certainty that this will happen sooner or Later, at least to some of the items in such an obscenely magnificent hoard as Rovan's?'

'I suppose it may - but that's hardly our fault.'

'Ah, the abrogation of responsibility. Such a base excuse. Can you not see that it is your responsibility? You had the choice not to embark on this selfish quest, knowing the likely consequences for others, yet you still did so!'

There was an angry murmur from the crowd. The innkeeper seemed to rise to it, for he gestured dramatically with both pairs of arms.

'Do you need this money because you are starving, any of you?

Or because you were incapable of exchanging honest toil for the necessities of life? No!'

The crowd applauded.

When the noise had abated, the innkeeper looked at the Doctor. 'Is it true you accompany these two criminals under duress?'

'Yes, because I fear for the safety of my friend, who is currently being held hostage by their accomplice.'

'So you put your friend's safety, a single life, above the far greater evil that would result from inflicting Rovan's treasure on the galaxy.'

'Well of course, but I -'

'You have said enough. I judge there is no mitigation. He turned to the inspector. 'And you, who claim to represent law and order: tell us what punishment these criminals would receive if we let you take them back to your home for punishment?'

'That is for the courts to decide.'

'But is it likely to be death?'

'No. We do not sentence people to death on Astroville. It would not bring the deceased back to life -'

'What is their likely fate?'

'A term in prison, then psychiatric examination and -'

'Will this ensure there is no possibility of their offending again?'

'Well, no treatment is a hundred per cent certain, but -'

'So you admit you are willing to risk them continuing their criminal activities. What is to prevent them returning to Gelsandor and attempting to perpetrate their crimes afresh?'

'Listen, I just represent my system of law to the best of my ability!'

'As do I!' the innkeeper replied simply. 'I also find no mitigation in your case.' He turned to the crowd. 'You have heard the evidence. What shall the verdict be?'

There was a stirring of many whispers and heads turned this way and that as each consulted their neighbour. Then one man in the front row stood up.

'Death!' he said.

Another stood. 'Death!' And another and another and the chant grew louder.

'Death!'

Arnella felt cold and curiously detached, as though she was not really hearing the words and they could not possibly apply to her. As though at the end of a long tunnel, she saw the innkeeper turn to them.

'Such is the verdict of the Enlightened of Braal. Let it be carried out within the hour!'

Dynes had watched the drugging and capture of both groups the previous day, uncertain as to the entertainment value of this unexpected interruption to the quest. The problem was that drugged people in cells provided little sustainable interest.

A few of the locals had enlivened things slightly by throwing stones at the DAVEs in an attempt to bring them down, but he had pulled them clear in time - he could not afford to lose any more cameras. Once they realised he was not going to interfere, however, they had more or less ignored the DAVEs as long as they stayed clear of the prisoners, stubbornly refusing any of his relayed requests for interviews. He had debated how long to leave the DAVEs on station, but his instinct told him to be patient.

And now it was paying off.

He had the chance to record a genuine primitive execution.

And Peri and Gribbs were still lose somewhere, he reminded himself. Their reactions should be interesting when he found them again, and they might yet win through to the treasure, providing a satisfactory conclusion to the whole feature.

It was at moments such as this, when he was about to witness death, that Dynes felt most intensely alive. This apparent paradox and any associated psychological ramifications did not bother him unduly. He simply regarded it as the natural reaction of a professional craftsman seeing his skill and dedication repaid.

For what was the ultimate payoff in life except death? It was the one thing that bound all his disparate viewers together. It was their unifying fear and yet also their darkest fascination -

especially if it was unnatural. They might turn away sickened afterwards, but they would watch it that once and remember who brought those images to them for the rest of their lives.

That was the supreme accolade as far as Dynes was concerned.

Apart from the awards and bonuses this sort of report brought him, of course.

Carefully he began to plan camera angles.

It took six men to drag Drorgon out of the inn, three to manage Jaharnus, and a surprising two for Brockwell. The others did not put up much of a struggle, partly due to shock. The Doctor went unresisting, although his deepset eyes flashed about him as though he was searching for any possible means of escape.

But it seemed they were not be given the opportunity. With the jury from the inn swelled by the crowd that had been waiting outside, they were led out to a field on the edge of the village, the DAVEs gliding along in their wake. There a line of posts had been driven into the ground, while around their bases were heaps of kindling.

At the sight of them Drorgon roared and began struggling afresh, while Qwaid began to curse their captors. Thorrin went white and Arnella gave a little whimper. They couldn't really mean to do it. They couldn't!

'I'm so sorry, my dear,' her uncle said to her brokenly. 'You call this justice!' Jaharnus shouted.

'Not very sporting,' said the Doctor to the guards dragging him along, his voice amazingly level. 'Traditionally you're meant to put us back in our cells to contemplate our fate just long enough for us to work out some ingenious plan of escape.'

'Do not chide Old Jack for his cowardly words earlier,' said Falstaff, as though in apology to them all. 'I have more flesh than another man, therefore more frailty.'

Arnella's wild eyes met Brockwell's.

'I just want to say,' he shouted desperately, 'that I lo-'

The sun was blotted out by the angular form of the
Falcon
as it tore over Braal and the execution field less than fifty metres over their heads.

Tiles were lifted from roofs and chimney stacks toppled. Then the blastwave of displaced air and the sluggish sound trailing in its wake hit them with mind-numbing force. The crowd scattered in confusion, and many who could never have seen a spacecraft or heard a thruster exhaust before dived for the ground and buried their heads in their hands. A whirlwind of whipped-up dust and debris billowed across the field, reducing visibility to a few metres.

As Arnella lay sprawled on the ground, still dazed by the suddenness of it all, she saw the Doctor act.

He crashed shoulder first into the one man he had never let out of his sight, knocking him to the ground: the jailer with the master key to their manacles on his belt. Brockwell and Jaharnus, momentarily free of their stupefied guards, caught on immediately and joined him, jumping on to the man, kneeing and kicking and fumbling with their bound hands for he keys.

Arnella saw a guard running towards the struggling group, kicked out her feet as he passed, and saw him crash satisfyingly to the ground. Before he could recover she shuffled forward and kicked him in the head repeatedly until he lay still; she was surprised to find she had within her such hatred and determination to live.

Then the Doctor's hands were free and he was twisting round with incredible speed to release the others. Two more villagers appeared out of the pall of dust that was falling all around them, but by then Jaharnus was free. She snatched up a sword and swung it viciously, driving them back. Then Brockwell had a hand under Arnella's arm and he was pulling her upright and unlocking her shackles.

To one side Drorgon and Qwaid were struggling with three of their guards, who had resisted the general panic. Brockwell kicked viciously, opening a path through the melee to Drorgon's shackled wrists, and freed them. Heaving himself upright, Drorgon picked up one hapless man and smashed him down on the other two with bone-shattering force. Then he snatched up two discarded pikes and, swinging them like flails, charged at another ragged knot of guards while Brockwell freed Qwaid.

Falstaff, perhaps by accident more than design, had rolled backward on to a local and was effectively keeping him pinned to the ground. Brockwell unshackled Falstaff, and then her uncle and Thorrin, who were still lying dazed by the sudden turn of events.

The villagers fell back under their captives' unexpected resistance, and for the moment they had the centre of the field to themselves, apart from the dead and wounded. Arnella saw Qwaid rise from the prostrate figure of the innkeeper with a bloody dagger in his hands, and she found her disgust at his action surprisingly muted.

Then the
Falcon
came in for a second pass, sending most of the remaining onlookers around the edge of the field running or crawling back to the shelter of the village. The ship made a tight turn and returned with landing legs extended and underjets blasting. It touched down in a fresh cloud of dirt and smoke, its side-hatch ramp dropping open. Qwaid and Drorgon led the frantic dash towards it and were first up the ramp, which immediately hinged upward again before the others could set foot upon it. Then a fresh blast from the underjets sent them cowering backward.

'No!' shouted the Doctor in dismay. 'Peri!'

Unheeding, the ship soared up into the sky, leaving the Doctor to stare helplessly after its receding form.

'Peri,' he said again faintly.

Jaharnus tugged at his arm. 'Sorry, but we've not time to spare. We've got to get out of here.'

'Aye,' said Falstaff, puffing up beside them. 'Let us tarry not but vacate the field of battle triumphant.'

Captured weapons in their hands, they ran for the trees at the far edge of the field. Rising beyond them were the valley walls, closer together than before and indicating that the valley was narrowing. Then they were among the trees and crashing through the brushwood, the DAVE units following after them.

Slowly, still gasping for breath, Qwaid hauled himself off the deck of the
Falcon
, where the pressure of their rapid ascent had briefly pinned him.