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He was used to her voice rustling in his mind now, though for some reason it tickled the inside of his ears. She hadn't used her ice voice since he'd agreed to help.
That is correct.
'So why are we attacking now?'
The Queen closed her eyes.
One is coming. One who can fertilise me.
Fitz wondered at the extent of the Queen's mental powers. Most T'hiili were telepathic to some degree, though they needed to exchange long protein strings regularly, through their salivary glands. That was what that mossy stuff had been. Essence of Queen, mixed in with a few narcotic herbs. 'So, we attack the Ruin, gain the node, and wait for Mr Right to turn up.'
The Queen stroked Fitz's arm.
That is what we must do.
They rounded a corner, from which there was a view of the cavern in which the Nest floated. Far below was a glowing sea, its green light filtering up in shafts through floating islands and rootlike growths.
But it was the thing on the far side of the cavern that caught Fitz's breath, making him gasp aloud.
Some of the ice returned to the Queen's mind-voice.
The Blight.
It was a giant black blister, spreading visibly on the dark-green wall of the cavern. Its edges were fuzzy, and looking at it made Fitz feel sick, scared. No wonder the T'hiili had decided on suicide as the only way out.
The Ruin are nothing, compared to the Blight. We can fight the Ruin. But we cannot destroy the Blight.
The Queen reached and held Fitz's hands in hers. They were damp and cold, like dead fish. He s.h.i.+vered. At times her long red hair falling over her shoulders made her look disconcertingly human.
Come. It is time for battle.
Chapter Eighteen.
Time And Ruptured Dimensions In s.p.a.ce The b.u.t.terflies came in their hundreds, from all directions, until the air was full of the unhurried rustling of their wings. They came and danced in a multicoloured typhoon around Kerstin. She could somehow tell that they were pleased to see her.
Their wings were beating against the back of her head and neck, against her bare arms and legs, tickling her. They seemed to be guiding her, down towards the plinth.
She walked down the slope, arms outstretched, b.u.t.terflies alighting and then taking off. She laughed what else could she do in the face of all this?
When she reached the bottom of the slope, the b.u.t.terflies retreated, some landing on the flowers, some hovering at a distance. She touched the plinth; it looked like some sort of control console, made of greenish metal. Six panels surrounded a perspex column, which contained pinkly glowing tubes. Each panel had a different array of k.n.o.bs, dials and switches. The thing reminded Kerstin of the control suite of the hydroelectric plant she'd once visited near Gothenburg.
What was this? Was it part of the control for the wormhole? Had the b.u.t.terflies brought her here so she could get Fitz back?
There was a little green b.u.t.terfly hovering above one of the switches, now and then darting down towards it. Its intention was clear. It wanted her to press the switch. What would happen? What choice did she have? She pressed the switch and immediately the TV screen hovering in midair on the other side of the console crackled into life.
Kerstin gasped. It showed a view of a forest. A very familiar-looking forest. The forest around Strangnas.
And there was the Doctor, staring at the screen, his blue eyes sad, his face concerned. Seeing him again lifted Kerstin's heart.
The green b.u.t.terfly was now hovering over a big red lever, its wings fluttering in urgency.
Kerstin pulled the lever without hesitation and a white door appeared beside the flower beds.
The door opened, and all the b.u.t.terflies took off with a roar like sudden rainfall.
Outside the TARDIS, the Doctor watched open-mouthed as one end of the grey cube swung silently open, revealing a s.h.i.+mmering white void. He laughed out loud, feeling like dancing. At last, things were going right. He had no idea how or why the TARDIS had opened up to him, and right now he didn't really care.
The Doctor walked into the white void, and the door closed silently behind him, leaving no sign that it had ever been there in the first place.
Kerstin got a brief glimpse of the Doctor as he entered. His face was alive with joy. And then, as one, the b.u.t.terflies descended upon him, until he was completely obscured beneath a cloud of fluttering colour. She could hear his laughter. It was a boyish sound, the sound of freedom. Like Johan when they swam together. Kerstin gripped the edge of the console.
The b.u.t.terflies lifted from the Doctor's body, and he watched them fly away with raised arms, a wide smile on his face. He walked dreamily over to the console, still unaware of her presence.
He started pressing b.u.t.tons, muttering to himself. 'Poor thing. My poor, dear, poor poor thing.' thing.'
'I thought I was dead at first,' said Kerstin.
The Doctor did a double take, looking across the console, his mouth hanging open in surprise. 'How did you get in here?'
'I don't know,' said Kerstin. 'I just ended up here. Who were you talking to just then?'
The Doctor smiled broadly. 'My s.h.i.+p. My TARDIS.' He gave that boyish laugh again and all but danced around the console towards her. 'I thought she was dead!'
The TARDIS. So this was the Doctor's time machine. Kerstin felt a thrill run through her whole body.
The Doctor came up to her and put his hands on her shoulders, his face very close to hers. 'I'm very, very glad you're safe,' he said. 'How did you say you got here?'
For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. 'I I didn't.'
The Doctor took his hands away from her and turned to the console. 'Hmm. I think I know what happened. You and Fitz went into the node, must have come through the section of the wormhole that's snared up in the TARDIS. Fitz!' The Doctor whirled around, his voice hoa.r.s.e, urgent. 'Where is he?'
Kerstin shrugged. 'I don't know.'
The Doctor turned away. She heard him mutter, his voice light and fluttery. 'No, no, no.'
Kerstin's mind was whirling with questions. One above all: Johan. 'Doctor, could we go back in time, rescue Johan before the wormhole took him?'
The Doctor smiled sadly. 'I wish we could. But there are laws of time which just cannot be broken.'
'Laws are there to be broken!' said Kerstin desperately.
'Not the laws of time. You see, Johan is part of this timeline. If I went back and rescued him, then you wouldn't have been caught up in all this. But here you are, bang in the middle of things. Cause and effect.' He shook his head and smiled sadly. 'I can't do it.'
It had been Kerstin's last hope, and now it was dashed. She let the tears come. She felt the Doctor's arms around her, the softness of his coat on her face.
When it was over, she stood back. She felt light-headed, and oddly relieved. Now that she knew Johan couldn't be rescued, maybe now she could lay him to rest in her mind.
The Doctor's eyes were sad, his face shadowy. 'I'm sorry.'
Kerstin brushed the last of her tears away. 'I'll be OK now.'
The Doctor patted her arm. 'Which is more than I can say for the TARDIS. I'll have to link with her.' He walked around console and placed his hands on two flat black plates. 'Bear with me,' he said. 'This shouldn't take long.'
He closed his eyes.
Kerstin stepped back from the console, her heart beating fast. What was going to happen? She glanced around fearfully. Would the wormhole come back?
A rising humming note emanated from the console and slowly, magically, everything changed. The green gra.s.s s.h.i.+mmered and coalesced into a wooden floor. The blue sky darkened. Walls erected themselves at a distance from the console. A whole library of books fluttered into existence. Next to them, a wall of wooden filing cabinets with bra.s.s handles and white name tags, towering up and up into the blue. Over the far side of the console, a wall of clocks appeared from nowhere, clicking and ticking busily. Before them, the harpsichord she'd seen earlier popped up. And on the floor beside that, a complicated-looking model train set, trains whizzing along the tracks at breakneck speed. Just beside the console, a very expensive-looking carpet, on which stood an ornate gold and red chair, a marble-topped table and a standard lamp. On the other side of the room, a huge double door melted into existence, underneath an arch crowned with a complex figure-eight symbol. Two lamp-bearing bronze statues stood, one at either side of the doors, at the top of a flight of shallow stone steps.
The console itself mutated slowly into a thing of beauty, all bra.s.s and wood and b.u.t.tons and levers, the column in the middle telescoping into a vast tower which throbbed and hummed with potential. Cables and gantries ran high above, becoming lost to sight. And candles shone everywhere, their soft golden light contrasting with the harsh blue glow cast by the column in the centre of the console.
The transformation complete, Kerstin found herself standing in what looked like a cross between a castle, a Gothic mansion, a cathedral and the study of a mad inventor. She had never felt so excited. Kerstin-plus lived again.
The Doctor opened his eyes. He looked even more pleased now, if that was possible. 'You know, I could really do with a nice hot cup of tea.' Then he exploded into action, running round the console, pulling levers and twisting dials. 'But there's work to be done.'
Kerstin suddenly realised that everything he'd said was in Swedish, perfectly enunciated. 'Hey! You're speaking Swedis.h.!.+'
The Doctor grinned. 'It's the TARDIS. The telepathic circuits are translating for you.'
'What?'
'Wherever you go in the universe, everyone will seem to be speaking your native language.'
Images of alien creatures threatening her in her own language popped into her mind. She fought down a rising sense of disorientation. This was a miracle, a wonder. She had to stay with it, whatever happened.
The Doctor bounded round the console, slipping on the polished parquet floor. He grabbed on to her to steady himself, then pointed, up.
'Look.'
His hair was tickling her cheek. She looked, into the night-blue dome of the ceiling. It seemed to go on for ever.
'There.'
Through the vista of blue, there was a golden thread, twisting and glowing. 'That's a representation of the wormhole. See, at one end, there's the Earth, and at the other yes, I thought thought so.' so.'
Kerstin looked at the other end. The golden thread just vanished. 'You thought what?'
'The wormhole's pa.s.sed through a black hole,' he said. As if that explained anything. He walked over to the console. His face was grave again, dark shadows under the eyes. 'Possibly into a pocket universe. Part of it is caught up in the TARDIS like a temporal tapeworm.' He looked over at her. 'I can't take off.'
Kerstin's heart sank. 'What do you mean?'
'If I take the TARDIS through the wormhole, I'll be taking part of the wormhole with her. Like a snake eating its own tail. It'll cause terrible contortions in the s.p.a.ce-time continuum. Unless...'
'Unless what?'
'Unless I can dislodge the wormhole offshoot.' He dived beneath the console.
Kerstin looked up at the golden thread. It was beautiful, she thought. To look at it now, you could never guess at all the death and pain it had caused.
The Doctor emerged from beneath the console, a battered brown leather toolbox clutched to his chest. 'Come on Sam's room.'
He dashed out of the console room and along a tall, arched corridor, with white roundelled walls. He stopped outside a plain door.
'This is where the wormhole breached the TARDIS,' he said, motioning for Kerstin to stand back. He opened the toolbox and dug out a collection of small gla.s.s pyramids.
He opened the door.
The inside of the room was roaring with grey static, like a broken TV.
'It's ruptured the dimensional interface,' cried the Doctor. He stuck the gla.s.s pyramids around the door frame. They pulsed with a soft emerald light, and the roaring decreased.
'Dimensional inhibitors,' he muttered. 'They should stop it spreading.'
He dashed back to the console room. Kerstin stared at the static. It seemed to do things to her eyes, like a magic-eye picture. She blinked, shook her head and followed the Doctor.
They left the Nest behind, flying through the glowing green in the thirty-six dirigibles that remained. In each, bowls of narcotic fluid burned, T'vorha eyes watching the blue flames with superst.i.tion.
Fitz and the Queen travelled in the smallest dirigible, no larger than a small boat, near the back of the formation. The Queen was in a semi-trance, trying to trace the mind of the One who could fertilise her.
Fitz sat in a leaflike seat at the front, next to a large and fearsome-looking T'vorha called Gilthr, who manipulated the stems of the tiny, gnarled control brain with big, clawed hands. The T'vorha were telepathically r.e.t.a.r.ded; their mindspeak was simple, wordless. He hadn't a hope of understanding it. Instead of the Queen's icy voice, all he got from Gilthr was the telepathic equivalent of caveman grunts and gestures backed up with physical grunts and gestures.
On the screen ahead of them, Fitz could see the rest of the T'vorha fleet, sleek bullet shapes against the green glow. They flew down and down, keeping a safe distance from the Blight, until they plunged into the swirling green below. The screen became so bright it was hard to look at it.
They pa.s.sed through several other caverns once having to change course abruptly to avoid a thunderous wall of Blight, losing two dirigibles in the process and then they plunged into a sea of golden light. It was almost blinding.
Fitz looked back to where the Queen sat on a bed of moss, cross-legged, her eyes closed, her red hair falling in waves around her. She seemed to sense his gaze.
We are very close.
Fitz waited. The tension was unbearable.
At length, they approached the edge an oval-shaped curtain of colour the size of Wembley stadium, through which Fitz could make out the blue s.h.i.+mmering shape of a cavern. They drew nearer nearer and then they were inside. It was a vast womb of blue sand. On the far side rose a sheer cliff of black gla.s.s.
It was the cavern he'd arrived in. He'd slid down that cliff face, and the T'vorha had taken him.
But where was the node?