Lombardo leaned on the counter. His face was round and glistening in the fluorescent light. Rather like a pie, thought Fitz. He had thinning auburn hair and there was a delicate, epicurean quality to the set of his lips and his thin nose. 'Compa.s.sion! Now that', he said, 'is an interesting name.'

'My name is not important,' said Compa.s.sion, turning abruptly away.

The Doctor frowned. 'What's up with her?' he muttered, motioning for Fitz to keep an eye on her.

'I thought this was meant to be a day of celebration,' said Fitz.

'Treaty Day,' said Lombardo, 'usually is. Not this year, though. Trouble with the Anthaurk. People don't feel like celebrating.'

Fitz walked up the counter and started fiddling with a chip-fork dispenser. 'Anthaurk?'

The Doctor waved a hand. 'Big snaky things, great architecture, short tempers.'

It wasn't like the Doctor to be so dismissive, thought Fitz. Something must be bugging him. 'What trouble?'

The Doctor clearly didn't want to get involved. 'Local difficulties, they'll sort themselves out.'

Lombardo winked at Fitz. His eyes were small, the lashes pale, almost white, and there was a blue tint to his eyelids. Eye shadow? 'Aye lad, not to worry. I'm in a party mood even if no one else is.'

Fitz grinned back at him queasily. Was this some sort of come-on? 'Ri-ight.'

Lombardo straightened up. He was tall, much taller than the Doctor, with a barrel-shaped chest and long arms. 'Right!' he said, nodding at Fitz. 'It's the b.l.o.o.d.y centenary today, and no one feels like celebrating. Too scared of Anthaurk attacks. All the tourists have left, everyone's cowering in their houses watching the news. Well, not me!'

The Doctor was practically hopping from foot to foot. 'Can we...?' he almost squeaked, waving to the back of the shop.

Lombardo tapped his lips with a fat finger. 'Oh, er, right.' He took the chip-fork dispenser away from Fitz and hid it behind the till. Another wink. 'Come this way.' He ushered the Doctor behind the counter.

'What's up?' asked Fitz.

'I've, er, got something to discuss with Mr Lombardo. I'll be back in a moment.' So saying, the Doctor dodged behind the counter and followed Lombardo into the back of the shop through a clattering bead blind.

Fitz glanced at Compa.s.sion. She was staring past him. Or was she staring inside herself, at her console chamber, her corridors and forests and whatever else lay in her depths?

He cast about in his mind for something to say, but what could you say to a talking, walking TARDIS? At last he settled on. 'What's this Treaty all about, then?'

Compa.s.sion's eyes seemed to shift focus. 'The Treaty of Yquatine was signed in the Earth year 2893 (Common Era) by the major sentient species of the ten planets of the Minerva System after a short period of intense warfare with the Anthaurk, dispossessed reptilian race, who arrived in the System in 2890, taking over the planet Kaillor and renaming it New Anthaur. Since the signing of the treaty there has been exactly a century of peace. Many other races have come to settle in the System and its central planet, Yquatine, is the jewel of the System, representing '

Fitz held up a hand. 'Enough, all right?'

Compa.s.sion blinked, there was the briefest of smiles. 'Sometimes I amaze myself. Do I amaze you?'

'Yeah, baby, you're totally s.h.a.gadelic.' Fitz sidled away and inspected the pies on the shelves, half listening to the chatter of the customers. His stomach rumbled. Might as well take advantage of the location. Before him were set out, wrapped in cellophane imprinted with a rather unsettling logo featuring Lombardo's grinning face, rank upon rank of steak-andkidney pies, cheese-andonion pies, Scotch eggs, sausage rolls, vegetable patties, pizza slices, samosas, wedges of quiche, even what looked like Cornish pasties.

Fitz took down a pork pie, laughter welling up inside him. 'Talk about the English abroad,' he said, turning back to Compa.s.sion, brandishing the pie like a trophy. 'Here I am, interdimensional wanderer, on the most culturally diverse planet I've ever seen and ' he paused from dramatic effect 'I'm going to eat a pork pie pork pie.'

The people at the table stared at Fitz as if he was mad.

Compa.s.sion's eyes glittered.

'Oh, come on,' said Fitz, unwrapping the pie. 'lt's still you, isn't it?'

Compa.s.sion pouted. 'Yes and no.'

Fitz blinked. Images flickered before his eyes. The dark console chamber, the walkways, the gnarled, black console. The forest, his room on the dark side of Compa.s.sion's interior. He shuddered. All inside inside her her.

He took a bite of the pie. Things could get seriously Freudian if he wasn't careful.

There was a clatter of bead curtain and the Doctor reappeared, alone this time. He strode over to them, rubbing his hands together. 'Time to go!'

'Already?' Fitz pointed at Compa.s.sion's waist. 'Is there a food machine in there?'

Compa.s.sion glared at him.

The Doctor smiled. 'Now there's an idea.' He raised a finger and pointed at Compa.s.sion's head. 'Ding-dong! Avon calling!'

Compa.s.sion smiled, covered her face with her hands, and then opened out into a glowing, white doorway.

Fitz dropped the pie.

A clatter of chairs, panicked swearing from the customers.

'Come on, come on!' hustled the Doctor.

Fitz stepped towards the doorway, everything flashed painfully white, and then and he was... inside inside Compa.s.sion. Compa.s.sion.

'I'm never, ever, ever gonna get used to this,' he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

They were in the console chamber, standing on the metal walkway above the churning blue milky stuff beneath. The console still looked to Fitz like a cross between a malevolent spider, an oil rig and something you glimpse in nightmares. 'So, where to now?'

The Doctor bounded up to the console, his hands flicking over switches. He called to Fitz over his shoulder. 'Where to, indeed? Who knows?'

And then the Doctor took something from his pocket. Fitz caught a glimpse of a metal box with flickering lights in the top and two silver p.r.o.ngs poking out of the back. As Fitz watched, the Doctor plunged the thing into the console. There was a shower of blue sparks, and black liquid spurted on to the Doctor's coat.

Then came a voice. Compa.s.sion's voice. It came from all around Fitz and from inside his head and sent him quivering to his knees. She was screaming, a sound of hurt and fear.

'What are you doing? Get it out of me! Get it out!'

The tallest tower of the Palace of Yquatine rose like sheets of silk into the Yquatine sky for almost two kilometres. Near its top was the Senate Chamber, a circular gla.s.s bubble encased in a web of force fields. From the bottom of the bubble a cylindrical shaft extended towards the centre. On top of this shaft was a podium, on which President Stefan Vargeld stood, hands gripping the railing, his face haggard, looking much older than his thirty-three years. Behind him sat palace officials, tapping away at their keypads, recording every nuance of the Senate meeting. Radiating out from this central hub like the spokes on a giant wheel were eight arms, ending in smaller podiums on which stood the senators and their aides from each of the other inhabited planets of the Minerva System.

President Vargeld spoke, his voice ringing out across the Chamber. 'Senator Zendaak, I urge you once again to call off your attacks on the trade routes in your sector.'

Zendaak stood, arms folded, the personification of defiance. 'Urge all you like.'

President Vargeld raised his arms and indicated the other senators. 'The entire Senate condemns your actions. For the sake of System unity, for the sake of peace, you must call off the attacks.'

Zendaak's red eyes fixed President Vargeld like lasers. 'Remove the sanctions on our world. '

Mutters from the other senators. Senator Fandel of Luvia swore, and shot a glance at President Vargeld. Luvia was a small world, almost totally inhabited by humans, and since the war there had been a coldness between the Luvians and the Anthaurk. The current crisis had sharpened that coldness to outright hatred.

'We see no point in these disagreements,' boomed a voice. This came from Senator Rhombus-Alpha of the Ixtricite. A holographic representation of the crystalline gestalt, it revolved above its podium, its smooth surfaces reflecting the overhead lights.

'Neither do we,' hissed Senator Okotile, a beetle-like Kukutsi.

President Vargeld had expected this. The Ixtricite kept themselves almost totally aloof from Senate affairs, seeming only to keep a weather eye on things from their crystal planet of lxtrice. The Kukutsi, as leaders of the insect-dominated world of Chitis, trod more or less the same line.

The President took a deep breath, thinking carefully about what he was going to say next. 'Nonetheless, they must be resolved. If they aren't, the situation could escalate. The Anthaurk have been hitting the Adamantean and Luvian trade routes. I have managed to persuade Senators Krukon and Fandel not to take any retaliatory action, but, if the Anthaurk persist in their attacks, I will have no choice but to take condign action.'

It was a roundabout way of making a declaration of war, and the effect on the Senate was electric. Fandel's eyes positively gleamed with bloodl.u.s.t.

Senator Krukon, the Adamantean, simply stared at President Vargeld, his entourage of two Ogri glowing with golden light behind him. Krukon trusted the President and had a lot to be grateful to the Senate for in the terraforming of Adamantine. The last thing the President wanted to do was let them down. If they had to fight the Anthaurk, the Adamantean fleet would be a valuable a.s.set.

There was a smirk on Zendaak's thin lips. President Vargeld got the feeling that this was what he was after. War. Well, now he'd got it.

'There is one thing that can be done to avert this war,' said Zendaak.

President Vargeld allowed hope to flutter in his heart. Was Zendaak going to back down?

His next p.r.o.nouncement quashed all hope of that. 'Dissolve the treaty.'

There was a general hubbub. Senators Juvingeld and Tibis exchanged worried glances. Juvingeld was an Eldrig, a cervine quadruped from the ice world of Oomingmak. Tibis was a Rorclaavix, a tiger-like creature clad in gold neck chains and flowing robes, from the jungle planet of Zolion. The only two sentient indigenous species in the Minerva System, they had both benefited from colonisation while keeping their cultures intact, thanks to the provisions of the treaty. Its dissolution was the last thing they wanted.

The only person who looked the least bit pleased was Senator Arthwell of Beatrix. It stood to reason. If there was a war the s.p.a.ceyards of Beatrix would once again be at full capacity.

Krukon brandished a blue-jewelled arm like a mace. 'I say if they want war, we give it to them!'

President Vargeld fought to retain order. 'Senator Krukon. I won't permit such an outburst in the Senate Chamber. Please think before you speak.'

Krukon leaned on the railing of his podium, a scowl on his grey face. 'Very well, but we must take action. Now.'

President Vargeld drew in a breath, ready to make his final appeal. His heart was heavy and his legs felt weak. He was tired. He wanted to get away from the Senate chamber. Not everyone can carry the weight of the world, let alone an entire solar system. 'I called this extraordinary meeting on Treaty Day on the centenary centenary of Treaty Day to remind us all of what we signed up to. We signed up to sovereignty for each planet and species in the System.' of Treaty Day to remind us all of what we signed up to. We signed up to sovereignty for each planet and species in the System.'

Zendaak snorted.

'But we also signed up for the greater good of the System. So that we could help each other in times of crisis.' His eyes were on Zendaak as he spoke.

Zendaak's voice was calm and level. 'The a.s.sistance you want us to give violates one of the prime provisions of the treaty.'

President Vargeld ignored this. 'We signed up to independence from the Earth Empire. We signed up to free trade. We signed up to mutual aid, famine and disaster relief. We signed up to technology transfer and cultural interaction and I think most of you will agree we have had undreamed-of successes in these areas.'

Nods and mutters of agreement, and a power salute from Senator Tibis.

President Vargeld leaned forward. 'Most importantly, we signed up to peace.'

Silence.

'Very moving,' hissed Zendaak. 'But just words.' He turned away, beckoning to his two aides.

'Where are you going?'

'Back to my people. To prepare.'

The arm supporting Zendaak's podium extended towards an opening in the shimmering wall of the chamber, which swallowed it like a mouth taking a particularly bitter pill. President Vargeld saw Zendaak step into the elevator, then Zendaak's podium returned to its position, empty.

The gaze of some twenty beings senators and aides rested upon the President. Waiting for him to speak. As often before, the responsibility of his position felt like a pressure in his chest. He forced himself to relax, staring at the golden glow of the Ogri. The situation could still be saved. Diplomacy and calmness were the order of the day. 'Any other business?' he said, aware of the ba.n.a.lity of the phrase.

Senators shuffled, aides whispered.

'There was the matter of the latest survey of Xaxdool,' boomed Rhombus-Alpha.

Xaxdool was the largest planet in the System, an uninhabited gas giant, subject to endless surveys and tests. Trust the Ixtricite to bring that up. It seemed like a monstrous irrelevancy. 'I think we can safely leave that until this present crisis is over.'

The other senators nodded their a.s.sent.

'What are we going to do about the Anthaurk?' said Krukon, gesturing at the empty podium.

President Vargeld gritted his teeth. Now he could be seen to stand firm, show real determination. 'We stand against them.'

There were murmurs of agreement.

President Vargeld felt light-headed, and there were tears in his eyes. For the first time in a hundred years, war was coming to the Minerva System. But his tears weren't for the coming hostilities and the sorrows they would inevitably bring. His tears were for Arielle.

Fitz was on his knees, jamming his fingers in his ears, trying to blot out Compa.s.sion's screams. It was one of the most terrible sounds he had ever heard. Like someone being slowly put to death. The stuff below was churning and heaving like a stormy sea and the whole TARDIS was shuddering like a convulsing animal.

Fitz couldn't stand it any more. He leapt up, launching himself at the console, where the Doctor hung on, both hands around the metal box, which was now fully embedded in the console. In Compa.s.sion's flesh.

He grabbed on to the Doctor's shoulders. 'What are you doing to her?' he roared.

The Doctor's face turned to his. It was set in a grimace, features blurred by the juddering. 'I didn't know! I didn't know it would hurt hurt her ' her '

Compa.s.sion's screaming reached an almost unbearable crescendo. Words formed out of the chaos. 'Get out. Get away from me.'

Then suddenly they were falling, down into dizzying whiteness. Fitz filled his lungs with more breath to scream and slap!

His hands made contact with cool, smooth, green and white tiles. The pie shop. He groaned and writhed about, his body stiff and bruised. He sat up. The Doctor was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his hands over his face. There was no sign of Compa.s.sion. The hippie kids were staring at him, but he couldn't raise a jolly quip or even a smile. Compa.s.sion had vanished. Dematerialised. Gone. What the h.e.l.l had the Doctor done to her? Had he killed her? Had the Time Lords planted some posthypnotic command in the Doctor's mind? The devious gits.

Fitz scuttled across to the Doctor, full of questions. 'Are are you all right?' What else was there ever to say in situations like these?

The Doctor took his hands away from his face. His eyes were wide, shadowed, his cheeks pale. 'Fitz, I'm a fool.' He started to get to his feet. 'I should have told her what I was doing.'

'You should have told me me as well,' said Fitz. 'Then I'd have some idea of what the h.e.l.l you're talking about.' as well,' said Fitz. 'Then I'd have some idea of what the h.e.l.l you're talking about.'

'Yes, yes, erm, yes.' Wearing a distracted look, the Doctor strode out of the pie shop, Fitz following close behind.

The Doctor was shouting as he ran. 'We've got to find her. Fortunately, she's still on Yquatine.'