4: Strange Charm

'G.o.d, that wine was good,' said Benny to no one in particular as she bounced off another stippled wall. Savaar moved a fraction faster and caught her as she stumbled unsteadily from the rebound.

'Whoops!' she giggled, I haven't been like this since my thirtieth birthday . .

. What a heavenly day that was!' she punned.

Savaar's green tongue darted out, moistening his lips.

Benny stared at him, trying to focus. I say,' she murmured, are you trying to catch a fly?' As Savaar made no response to this except to do the autonomic reaction again, Benny pointed slowly at his mouth. 'D'that again - I'll see if I can catch it!' She tried to laugh but instead belched extraordinarily loudly. Sskeet turned his head, trying to check no one was behind them.

I'm sorry, I'm so embarra.s.sing! Oh G.o.d,' she began to wail, I'm an embarra.s.sment to the Martian hierarchy, to the Federation, to humanity, to -' It occurred to Savaar that Bernice would probably list every person in the solar system given half a chance. He shook her slightly and she stopped, her head lolling slightly at an angle.

'Hey,' she said quietly. 'Hey, don't I know you? Aren't you my mother-in-law?' With that, she let out a large yelp of amus.e.m.e.nt and staggered into a doorway. Is this your place or mine? Fancy a nightcap?' Benny reached out and tugged at the silky cape hanging down Savaar's back. Or how about a night cape?' Sskeet pushed the door ajar and gently but firmly the two Martians eased Bernice into her room and towards the bed. She waved herself free.

'S'all right, I can put myself to bed.' She waved a finger at them, trying to look stern. I'm sure you shouldn't be in Shsurr's bed-chamber, my good sirs!' Savaar glanced at Sskeet and nodded. Without a word they both bowed to the unsteady figure before them and turned to leave. With a yell of excitement Bernice slumped loudly on to the bed behind them.

'Don't forget to turn out the light, boys!' she called.

Without a word Sskeet and Savaar discreetly, and with as much dignity as possible, left her room.

After a moment's pause Bernice shuffled on her bed slightly. One eye popped open and a huge grin spread across her face. She sat bolt upright and turned the almost imperceptible dial on a nearby flambeau. The flame grew noticeably brighter. She scrabbled under her bed with consummate ease, no sign of tiredness or the drunkenness she had displayed moments earlier. She yanked up her bag and extracted her diary. Over the next minutes she scribbled: 'Dear Diary, What an extraordinary meal. Damakort behaved himself very well -I could almost get to tolerate him if he stays like this and doesn't sulk or pout any more. The Doctor has taken to this honoured guest bit like a duck to water - of course - he loves the attention. Alpha Centauri's weird but very sweet.

King Tarrol's peculiar. He's very young to be a king, He looks in his early twenties but talks and acts like an old man. Atissa swanned in fashionably late and accused the entire Federation group of offending the spirit of this Aggedor thing. Going by the carvings and pictures that obsessively dominate this culture, I'd guess he'd be offended every time he looked in the mirror! Then there's Nic Reece. Hmmm. Wonder what Ace would have made of him. Probably attempted to seduce him by now. Glad she's not here - I might have a go myself.

Fun bit of the evening was just now. The Doctor asked me to test the patience of old Savaar. He's not a bad chap, bit stodgy, but could be interesting. 1 played the outrageous drunk all the way back. 1 insulted, belched, burped and generally acted gross. He took it all in his stride - strikes me it'd take a lot to rile him. Blown out the Doctor's theory that Savaar's volatile and aggressive. I wonder why-'

She stopped suddenly and put down her pen. Silence. No. There it was again! A muted shout - someone was trying to have a subtle argument nearby.

Bernice went to her door and tried to listen through it. The m.u.f.fled sounds of the constant storm outside the window and the thickness of the wooden door made distinct hearing impossible so she slowly tugged the door open.

Through the crack she could see Reece and someone else. Reece was trying to act the pacifist but his unseen partner was raising her voice slowly.

Atissa, Bernice a.s.sumed, but as Reece moved slightly it was Lianna that came into view. Bernice wasn't used to being surprised but she had to admit this was unexpected. They'd hardly pa.s.sed a word over dinner - although Corry's theatrical anecdotes were probably the cause of that; no one could have hoped to get a word in edgeways.

The intensity of their argument meant that they were oblivious to anything else. Bernice came right out of her room and shuffled across the corridor, leaning against the cold stone walls to listen better. She became aware that a bit of the stippled rock was jabbing into her shoulder but by now she was so close she dare not move -they'd see her shadow if nothing else.

Reece was saying, 'Look, she's your daughter. I've tried my best.'

'You'll never beat her, Reece.' That was Lianna. 'She's too stubborn, too adamant in her own beliefs.'

'Yeah, well I can see where she gets that from!'

'Flattery will get you nowhere, Nicholas Reece.'

Bernice started. Lianna leant forward and kissed Reece on the lips. Not aggressively or even pa.s.sionately, but tenderly. They held the soft kiss for a few seconds and she stepped back. 'Don't make me regret any of this.

Please.'

Reece shook his head and took her hand in his, caressing the back of hers with his thumb. I won't let you down. It'll all be sorted out soon and you'll have no more problems.'

Lianna retracted her hand. I hope so. You are my last chance for happiness.' She turned and went.

Bernice flattened herself against the wall, pressing further into the jutting rock. As it dug in further she wanted to cry out but instead bit the inside of her mouth. Nic Reece walked straight past her, totally oblivious to her presence. Bernice watched him head back towards the Federation Representatives' quarters. After she was sure he'd gone, Bernice pulled away from the wall, finally allowing herself a gasp as the rock ceased pressurizing her shoulder. She scampered back to her room and closed the door - now this would certainly interest the Doctor.

As the door to her room shut, two figures stepped out of the shadows. They had had a perfectly clear view of both the argument and Bernice's spying.

Neither of them had been spotted - they were both too well versed in the art of subtle shadow-hiding.

As I suspected,' hissed Savaar. 'Shsurr Summerfield was pretending. I wonder why.'

'Should we ask her now or in the morning?'

Oh, I think the morning will do, Sskeet. After that little scene by Reece and the Lady Lianna, I think the morning could hold a few surprises. I think it is time we had a small talk with Lianna ourselves.'

The Doctor closed the connecting door between his room and Kort's. The Cantryan boy was fast asleep. At last. The Doctor yawned. Still, he should be grateful - very few people stayed awake throughout the entire story of the terrible Zodin and her giant gra.s.shoppers. Or was it Ch'tizz? He could never remember who had the gra.s.shoppers and who had the mutant kangaroos. Still, it hardly mattered - it had taken nearly an hour to tell the story. Kort's intelligent, incisive and therefore downright annoying questions about Zodin's practical motives and the physics of the gra.s.shoppers jumping eighteen-storey buildings had highlighted not only his inquisitive nature but also the Doctor's disposition to exaggeration.

He heard the gasp almost as if it had been right in his ear instead of outside in the corridor. Unknowingly echoing Bernice's movements fifteen minutes earlier, he pushed his ear to his door but again the storm and well built door severely cut back his hearing. He, too, opened the door a crack and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Lianna was talking to Savaar. Angrily.

'You had no right to come here. Not yet. Do you want to ruin everything?'

Savaar held up a clamped fist. I had no choice. The situation is desperate.

You can tell that by the company I keep!' The Doctor smiled. It was nice to be such a thorn in Savaar's side.

Lianna continued. 'The Doctor could help. He has in the past.'

'He is dangerous,' replied Savaar. 'Besides, how can you be sure it is the same man? Morphers are rare and his story is a little far-fetched. While I investigate the Doctor you will do as you are told or the consequences could be severe for your rather backward little planet. I will not warn you again.'

Lianna was obviously going to say more when a familiar swishing noise indicated the arrival of Alpha Centauri, his head a curious shade of crimson. The Doctor realized that in all the years he had known the mild amba.s.sador, be had until now never seen him angry.

'What is going on here?' he chirped surprisingly quietly.

With a last look at Savaar, Lianna said, 'Nothing for the Federation to worry themselves about, it would seem,' and marched away.

'Please, Amba.s.sador,' Savaar said before the hexapod could speak, 'go to bed. Now!' he added as Centauri bobbed, ready to protest. The crimson hue faded to a more subdued but still affronted purple and Centauri bobbed away.

The Doctor shrugged slightly and shut his door as quietly as he could.

In the corridor, the tiny click was clearly audible to Savaar's advanced helmet receivers. He turned and looked for the source of the sound.

The Doctor's quarters - of course.

Half an hour later old Fabon was wandering around what Nic Reece had termed therelic room' - the first stage in his plan to open Peladon for tourism. Against Atissa's better judgement but not better arguments, most of the Pel trophies and sacred weapons and artefacts were stored here. It was Fabon's current duty to check the room every night. Although it was locked securely and only he and Atissa had keys, she was quite clear in her instructions.

'You are to check it every hour on the hour. When you sleep, a.s.sign someone you trust with your life to do it.' For five weeks now Fabon had spent his every waking moment concerned with nothing else.

He looked around, staring at the familiar artefacts. The Chalice of Blood, which every king or queen drank from on their accession day. The Crown of Sherak, Peladon's first king who had tamed the sacred beast Aggedor and appointed him Royal Protector. Most importantly, the Lance of Aggedor. A long, serrated and ceremonial spear with which, according to legend, Sherak drew blood from both Aggedor and himself, mixing it together and therefore a.s.suring the protection every Pel held dear.

Fabon was still admiring it when five inches of tempered steel slid through his back, up into his ribcage and severed his aorta. Silently Fabon fell on to his face, subconsciously grateful that the blade had not gone through to his front, thus ensuring that none of his blood stained the relic room floor.

His murderer reached up and grasped the Lance of Aggedor.

It was never again replaced.

Keri and holocameraman Jav were the first to find Fabon's corpse the following morning. They had arrived at around six o'clock in the morning, local time.

Neal Corry had suggested that some stock shots of the relic room would make for interesting visual wallpaper. He also muttered that they could always cut to it to cover edits if the restatement ceremony got a bit too longwinded. Ever vigilant about dropping ratings, Corry knew that although pageants and feudalism were viewer grabbers, too much of such things were a bit of a switch-off. Quick cuts and s.n.a.t.c.hes of glitz and glamour would keep the punters watching; dreary speeches and incense-waving would put them to sleep. And Corry out of a job.

Jav had moaned, as usual, about starting so early. 'Don't see Corry up and about, d'you?' Keri shook her head. 'Rank has its privileges, Jav,' was her only reply.

Oddly enough, Corry was on the scene of the murder within moments, looking spruce and tidy; like a peac.o.c.k on heat, Jav muttered. The fussy little man was mincing about, telling Jav where to point the camera, how long to stay panning up the body and generally annoying Jav to his limits.

Keri stood to one side, a false smile on her lips every time Corry nodded excitedly at her. She'd been covering death and destruction most of her professional life. One more dead body was neither here nor there. She couldn't help feeling, though, that Corry was letting enthusiasm overtake taste. One stabbed corpse hardly const.i.tuted a slot of prime-time news.

I know what you're thinking, Keri my little fuzzbox,' crooned Corry as he sauntered towards her. 'But think about it. Primitive backwater planet, still half uncivilized. Important local pageant, lots of Federation bigwigs and BANG!' He clapped his hands together loudly, causing Jav and the three Pel guards to briefly look toward him. Unperturbed, Corry waved his hands around. A murder! Who will be next? The Martian high lord? The king?

The beautiful holovid reporter?' He put his chubby hands either side of Keri's snout and stroked her jaws. 'Now, that would be a real tragedy!' As Corry went back to annoying the h.e.l.l out of Jav, Keri wiped her jaws with her paws. Whatever his faults, Corry was on the whole a bearable human.

He was clean, tidy and although excitable, never disturbed and rarely angry. She even found his obvious and frequently unsuccessful attempts to charm younger male humans rather amusing. However, going by his scent and the amount of sweat that had rubbed on to her jaws, Keri decided that the outwardly jovial Neal Corry that had just spoken to her was in fact a deeply troubled, almost frightened man. Now, that was newsworthy.

Savaar strode into the relic room an hour later with Sskeet, as always, one pace behind. The Martian high lord had instructed the room to be emptied of all personnel so that he could conduct his detective work. He knew Corry's reputation well enough to know that the ridiculous human would have taken great pains to disturb nothing. However much of a nuisance he and his holovid people were on Peladon, Corry and the Pakha Ker'a'nol didn't get their reputations by making silly mistakes.

Savaar was furious to see the Doctor sitting cross-legged on the floor, beside the crudely chalked outline where Fabon had fallen.

The Doctor's back was to the door but he heard Savaar's sharp intake of breath and smiled to himself.

'Good morning, my Lord,' he said without getting up or turning around.

I gave explicit instructions that this room was to be empty. I imagine you have a very good excuse for this blatant disregard for my ruling?'

The Doctor used his feet to lever himself upright, turned and walked towards Savaar. He stopped, his face about level with the Martian's neck.

Slowly he looked up and grinned. I'm awfully sorry if I'm in your way, High Lord. I wasn't aware that you had been formally put in charge of this . . .

investigation.'

In situations like this, Doctor, the highest-ranking official always take charge.'

Oh, indeed,' the Doctor turned away and walked back to the outline. 'My mistake. I a.s.sumed that King Tarrol outranked you. Obviously Federation egotism is as over inflated as ever.' He dug his hand into the pocket of his white linen jacket and extracted a piece of blue chalk. He dropped to the floor again and started looking under a trophy cabinet. A quiet, controlled hiss from the doorway made him look up again. 'Please, don't let me stop you doing your investigation, my Lord.' The Doctor smiled disarmingly and returned to his burrowing under the cabinet.

'Doctor,' came Savaar's exasperated response, f you are trying to annoy me, be gratified. You are succeeding admirably.'

The Doctor popped up again, but all trace of humour or cheerfulness had gone from his face. Instead he fixed Savaar with a penetrating stare that dared him to say anything else.

'Rest a.s.sured, Lord Savaar, I neither intend to annoy you nor really care if I do. I too am here to do a job. Something is very wrong on Peladon. I sensed it when we arrived yesterday. I sensed it during our meal last night.

I sensed it during your little chat-ette with Lianna outside my room last night. Above all, 1 sense it in this room where an innocent old man was rather expertly murdered. Mystery is my business, my Lord. If you don't like it, contact your Federation masters and have me removed. Meanwhile, I suggest you learn to put up with me as I realize I have to put up with you!'

Unaccustomed to making long speeches, the Doctor, now slightly ruddy-faced, tugged at his jacket lapels, ran a hand through his hair and clutched his umbrella to his chest.

Normally Savaar would have found the sight of a scruffy little human in shabby clothes, armed only with a red handled umbrella rather pathetic; amusing at best. Confronted with the anger in the Doctor's voice and something totally alien and rather unpalatable in his brown eyes (or were they in fact black?), the Martian merely nodded at him. Rather quieter than he intended, Savaar raised his clamped hands in an open gesture. I suggest, Doctor, that a pooling of our resources may be in order. To determine as swiftly and concisely as possible the exact threat that this murder poses to both the Federation representatives and, of course, to His Majesty the King.'

If Martian exo-helmets allowed expression to show through, Sskeet's face would have been a picture of astonishment and incredulity at his commander's words. However, masked as it was, the only difference the Doctor noted was that Sskeet's right arm, with its deadly sonic armament built into the wrist, drooped noticeably at Savaar's words. In an instant, the Doctor's demeanour changed and he tossed his umbrella into a corner. As he slipped off his jacket and draped it over an ornate chair, he grinned at the two Martians. 'Well, let's get started, then. I'll carry on at floor level, the two of you are better suited to window-level duty, I think.'

As Bernice wandered into the Federation Representatives' dining area she was unsurprised to see Damakort already stuffing himself with a Peladon version of bacon and eggs. A steaming jug of caffeine subst.i.tute sat beside his plate. He looked up at her and grinned. A trickle of egg yolk escaped from the corner of his mouth and with unaccustomed embarra.s.sment he wiped it away with a napkin. He pointed to the seat opposite him with his fork.

'Morning Professor,' he said, trying to speak as politely as possible with a mouthful of food. 'Heard about the murder?' Bernice nodded quietly and sat. He pushed the caffeine jug towards her. She took a pewter mug from a metallic mug-tree and poured herself some.

A couple of sips later and she felt more alive.

Kort finished his food with a final flourish of his knife and fork. He sat back in his chair and swallowed. I've been to a few planets where breakfast is unheard of. Glad Peladon isn't one of them. Shall I order you something?'

'No!' Benny said a little too sharply. I mean, no thank you. I didn't get much sleep last night, I don't think I could face food.'

'Ah, too much booze, eh?' said a gentle voice from the door. Bernice turned and smiled as Nic Reece walked over. He rested a hand on her shoulder.

'You really know how to put it away, Professor.'

Bernice shook her head. 'G.o.d, I'm not hung over. I've been drinking for too many years for that. No, I was just thinking too much and too long last night.'

'What about? Anything I can do to help?'

'Just things. Private things really. But nothing that seems important this morning.'

Isn't that always the way?' Reece helped himself to a mug and some caffeine. He looked over at Kort who held a hand up. Bernice accepted a top-up. 'You spend hours thinking something through. Worrying or planning. Then you eventually get two hours sleep and when you wake up, it all looks totally different.'

Bernice drained her mug. I guess you're right.'

'We aim to please. Nic Reece: dreams explored, advice offered, art treasures priced and Pel high priestesses annoyed. A good trade if you can manage it.'

Bernice laughed for what, she suddenly realized, seemed the first time in days.

Kort noisily slurped the dregs of his drink, and the other two looked over.

'Sorry,' he lied.

'So, tell me, Professor, what brings you to fair Peladon? I hardly imagine royal events are your forte.' Reece finished his drink and poured himself another.

Bernice looked at him. She'd met a lot of people in her rather hectic life.