Doctor Who_ Curse of Peladon - Brian Hayles [36]
The knock on Jo’s door seemed to herald even more trouble. In fact, it was Izlyr and Ssorg who stood outside, and they didn’t look any more threatening than usual. ‘What do you want?’ demanded Jo, irritably.
‘I wish to talk with you,’ whispered Izlyr. ‘May we enter?’
‘Be my guest,’ said Jo acidly, and moved into the room. Izlyr and Ssorg entered and closed the door, then stood, slightly uneasily, Jo thought. ‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘You left the meeting in anger,’ observed the warlord.
‘There wasn’t much else I could do, once you lot had ganged up on the Doctor!’ retorted Jo.
‘Your assumption is incorrect, Princess. We have not, as you call it, ganged up. Each delegate has his own position to justify.
A free discussion is inevitable.’
‘I know, I was there,’ observed Jo caustically. ‘It was a matter of who was going to run away first, wasn’t it?’
‘Arcturus is a coward by logic,’ explained the Martian, ‘and Alpha Centauri is a coward by instinct. Nevertheless, they will not leave the Doctor stranded.’
Jo looked at the proud Martian with surprise, and a small spark of hope brightened her face. ‘Why the sudden change of heart?’ she asked.
Izlyr turned his mask-like face to her. It betrayed no emotion, but for some reason Jo felt that the Ice Warrior was undeniably pleased with himself.
‘The emergency law that Arcturus was so quick to quote can only operate under unanimous decision. I voted to stay.’
Jo couldn’t hide her amazement. ‘What!’ Her mind raced.
Was one of the Doctor’s most feared enemies going to defend him?
‘When the statue of the Royal Beast was made to fall,’
explained Izlyr, ‘the Doctor saved my life. Now, I intend to save his.’
‘Izlyr—that’s wonderful!’ shouted Jo, then stopped, frowning. ‘But... how?’
The conversation that followed would not normally be heard, outside a room such as Jo’s. Thick-walled, and with a massive wooden door, the rooms acoustics would not carry Jo’s light voice and Izlyr’s hoarse whisper to the casual eavesdropper.
But where the human ear is a fallible instrument, the highly refined aural sensors that had been developed on Arcturus for its delegate’s information processes, were infinitely more effective. The monitoring input mike that Arcturus had placed against the outside of Jo’s door picked up and relayed every movement, every breath, every word that was spoken within.
The information so obtained, fed into the micro-computerised decision-making centre of the neuroplasm, was processed instantaneously and a plan formed...
‘We have already been to the Doctor’s room to acquaint him with our decision,’ hissed the Martian warlord; ‘but when we arrived, his door was open and he was not there.’
‘The Doctor’s escaped!’ cried Jo.
‘It would seem to be so,’ whispered Izlyr. ‘The map he left behind indicates that he has gone to ground in the secret tunnels beneath the citadel.’
‘Of course!’ exclaimed Jo,’ and I bet I know just where, too!’
‘That is what I hoped. You must go to him, and bring him to the throne room to face the king. Peladon must be made to understand the truth!’
Jo wasn’t so sure. ‘But why not let him escape?’
‘By escaping, he will appear to be a common criminal,’
hissed Izlyr. ‘By throwing himself on the King’s mercy—plus the case that I will put forward for the Federation—the king will act accordingly.’
‘To tell the truth, ‘wondered Jo, ‘I wouldn’t have been surprised if that’s what’s in his mind, too...’
‘Then go to him, Princess,’ insisted