DOCTOR WHO.

SNAKEDANCE.

by TERRANCE d.i.c.kS.

1

Nightmare

On a rocky hillside between two great jagged stones sat Dojjen the Snakedancer.

A gaunt, white-haired old man, he wore simple leather garments as sun-bleached and serviceable as his own wrinkled brown skin. He sat cross-legged, quite motionless, staring wide-eyed into infinity. Thrust into the ground at his side was his forked Snakedancer's stick. A live snake was coiled around its head, emerald eyes glinting, forked tongue flickering in and out. Around Dojjen's neck hung a gem-stone pendant, the blue crystal of the Snakedancers.

The crystal glowed.

'We are not where we are supposed to be!'

Nyssa came into the control room in time to hear the Doctor's words.

She felt no great surprise. In Nyssa's experience, the TARDIS was very seldom where it was supposed to be.

Nyssa looked expectantly at the Doctor. Now in his fifth incarnation he was a slight, fair-haired youngish man with a pleasant, open face. He was dressed in the fawn frock-coat and striped trousers of an Edwardian cricketer, and there was a fresh sprig of celery in his b.u.t.tonhole.

At the moment, it wasn't the Doctor's appearance but Nyssa's own which concerned her. She was awaiting the Doctor's reaction to her new outfit, a blue-and-white striped top with a white collar, and rainbow-striped skirt.

'Well?' she asked.

The Doctor gave her a distracted glance. The effect of the new outfit was both colourful and striking but it didn't make the slightest impression on him. 'We're not where we're supposed to be,' he repeated.

Nyssa gave him a 'what's-the-use' look. 'Where are we, then?'

'I don't know.' The Doctor studied the instruments. 'It's not a navigational malfunction.'

'Shall I wake Tegan?'

Tegan was their other companion, now sound asleep in her room.

'No need, there isn't any danger. It's puzzling, though. Very puzzling.'

Nyssa came to join him at the console and punched up navigational data on a read-out screen. 'Let's see where we are'. She read out the data. 'Planet G 139901 Kb in the Scrampus System. Local name: Ma.n.u.ssa. Type 314S. Inhabited. Atmosphere, 98% Terran normal.

Gravity, 96% Terran normal.'

'Well at least we can breathe the air, that's something.' He looked accusingly at her. 'You look different.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

'The question is, how did we get here?'

'There's more data. Third planet in Federation System. Status Colony.

Former Homeworld Ma.n.u.ssan Empire: Destroyed. Former Homeworld Sumaran Empire: Destroyed. Present Economy: Subsistence Agriculture and Tourism!'

'Former Homeworld?' interrupted the Doctor.

'Ma.n.u.ssan Empire.'

'No, the other one.'

'Former Homeworld: Sumaran Empire.'

Strange that one insignificant planet should be the homeworld for two mighty empires, thought Nyssa. And stranger still that both empires should be swallowed up in barbarism.

The Doctor was checking instruments. 'This is serious, Nyssa.

Someone's been playing about. Who set these co-ordinates?'

'You did.'

'No, no, no! You remember, I was trying to teach you and Tegan to read the star charts. One of you actually read out the co-ordinates for me to set. Who was it?'

Nyssa remembered quite clearly. She could see Tegan reading out the long string of co-ordinate numbers. But the Doctor was clearly put out by the error. Somehow it seemed unsporting to get her sleeping friend into trouble. 'I can't really remember, Doctor.'

'I can. It was Tegan!'

Tegan slept. She stirred a little. Her face twisted and she muttered incoherently. Tegan was dreaming.

In her dream, she stood before a cave. The area around the cave had been carved to resemble the head of a snake. The mouth of the snake formed the cave entrance. It loomed very large, and Tegan felt small, alone and afraid. Slowly and reluctantly she began walking towards the cave mouth, drawn by some irresistible power. She pa.s.sed inside, looked up, and gave a gasp of horror. There, looming over her, was the skull of a giant snake. Somehow the skull was hideously alive, eyes glowing red, bony jaws opening and closing angrily. The snake skull grew immense, filling the entire cave.

Tegan screamed.

Wrapping the scarlet lounging-robe about his body, the Lord Lon strolled out of his bedchamber and stood gazing disdainfully around him. He was occupying the finest guest suite in the Palace of Ma.n.u.ssa.

The room was luxuriously, even opulently furnished in a bewildering variety of styles. There were fur rugs, wall-hangings, tapestries, reclining couches, low tables and chairs and an astonishing variety of art objects from all periods of the planet's long and colourful history.

Ma.n.u.ssa had been the ruling planet of two great star-empires, and it was now a colony planet of the all-powerful Federation of Three Worlds. The planet and its people were a melting-pot, a jumble of innumerable cultural influences. Most of them, thought Lon, were reflected in this very room.

Lon yawned and stretched, still querulous and disorientated by the journey from Federation Homeworld. He was a tall, handsome young man, with the sleek, well-fed look of one born to wealth and privilege - not surprisingly, since Lon was the favoured son of the Federator of the Three Worlds. He strolled indolently across the room, and sank down onto a couch. On a table close by stood a statuette. He reached out and picked it up.

Beautifully carved from crystalline rock by some ancient, long-dead craftsman, the statuette was in the form of a coiled snake with a jewel in its mouth. Lon examined it with languid interest. It was primitive of course, but the workmanship was good . . .

Lon lay back on the couch, turning the statuette over in his hands. There was something strangely fascinating about it.

Tegan's scream sent the Doctor and Nyssa running to her room. They found her sitting upright in bed, wide-eyed with terror.

'Tegan, what's the matter? What happened?' asked Nyssa.

'The dream. It was the dream . . .'

'The dream?' said the Doctor sharply. What dream?'

'I can't remember. I can never remember.'

'But you've had this particular dream before?'

His tone was sharp, almost accusing, and Tegan's eyes filled with tears.

'Stop it, Doctor,' said Nyssa. 'You're upsetting her.' The Doctor ignored her. 'You have, Tegan, haven't you?' 'Yes . . .'

'Always exactly the same dream?' 'Yes, I think so. The images fade so quickly.' 'But the feelings, the feelings of fear remain?' Tegan nodded.

'Leave her alone, Doctor.' said Nyssa. 'It doesn't matter Tegan, you're awake now. It was only a dream.' Tegan shook her head. 'No, it wasn't somehow. It was more than just a dream.' For a moment she looked almost haunted.

Nyssa was alarmed. 'Tegan, that's nonsense.'

'She means it,' said the Doctor quietly. 'And I think she could be right.'

Still toying with the statuette, Lon looked up as a handsome middle-aged woman in sumptuous rose-coloured robes came into the guest suite. Her jewelled head-dress looked very like a crown. Indeed she was a queen in all but name. This was the Lady Tanha, Lon's mother, wife of the Federator.

Tanha had the gentle, practised charm of an experienced consort. A charm polished by countless state visits to provincial cities, innumerable official receptions and civic ceremonies, and endless demonstrations of folk dancing and native art. She was an intelligent, quietly determined woman, somewhat trapped in her never-ending role as the great lady. Tanha was frequently bored to extinction by her official duties, but over the years she had learned not to show it - unlike Lon. She looked at her son's lounging-robe in mild dismay. 'Lon, you're not dressed yet! Ambril will be here in a moment. He promised to show us the caves this morning, had you forgotten?'

Lon yawned. 'No, mother, I hadn't forgotten.'

'Well, then, we must make an effort.'

'Must we?'

'Well of course we must.'

'Why?'

'Because it's expected of us. You are the Federator's son.'

Lon gave her a long-suffering look.

She said gently. 'Come along, tell me what's wrong.'

Lon yawned again. 'What is wrong, mother, is that the Federator's son is bored . . .'

The Doctor was studying the TARDIS console when Tegan came into the control room. She was dressed in her white camisole top, and a light fawn jacket and skirt, and seemed fully recovered from her nightmare.

Nyssa followed close behind.

'Now then, Tegan,' said the Doctor seriously. 'Where are we?'

'What?'

'It's a very simple question. Where are we?'

'Aren't we on Earth?'

'No, we're not. So - where are we?'

'How should I know?'

'Think, Tegan. Think!'

Once again, the urgency of the Doctor's questioning seemed to leave Tegan puzzled and distressed. She stared miserably back at him, her eyes filling with tears.

'Doctor!' protested Nyssa.

In a more gentle voice the Doctor said. 'Please, Tegan, think). Reach back into the recesses of your mind.'

'Ma.n.u.ssa . . . are we on Ma.n.u.ssa?'

'Good! Well done, Tegan.'

'Well-are we?'

'Yes we are.'

Tegan gave him a puzzled stare. 'But - how did I know that?'

'Ma.n.u.ssa,' said the Doctor thoughtfully. 'Formerly Homeworld of the Sumaran Empire - which may or may not ring a bell. Does it, Tegan? The Su-Maran Empire . . . The Empire of the Mara.'

Tanha was trying to persuade her son to take his official duties a little more seriously. 'You must learn to be tolerant, Lon. Oh, I agree, Director Ambril is rather trying, but he means well.' She smiled reminiscently. 'On the whole I rather preferred his predecessor. Now, what was the man's name? He was completely dotty, you know, but much more fun!'

'It's not just Ambril, Mother. It's all of it. The Ceremony of the Mara, everything. It's all such nonsense.'

'Is it?'

'Of course it is. The Mara was destroyed, what - five hundred years ago, and we're still celebrating the event. Why?'

'Why not? After all, the ceremony only happens every ten years.'

'It occurs to me,' said Lon cynically, 'that the whole thing is only kept going to remind the people here how much better life is under the Federation.'

'And so it is.' said Tanha placidly.

'Is it?'