Doctor Who_ Curse of Peladon - Brian Hayles [8]
‘I just fell into it!’ she bubbled excitedly. ‘Isn’t it super?’
The Doctor didn’t answer immediately. He was examining a broad vein of phosphorescent rock. It was giving off enough light to disperse all but the blackest shadows. Jo, watching him, suddenly realised that the tunnel was not merely a sanctuary against the wind—it was man-made, and it had to lead somewhere.
‘Doctor... ‘ she ventured, ‘I don’t like it.’
The Doctor was already tracing the line of faint light farther down the tunnel. Jo followed him, hastily.
‘Fascinating...’ he murmured, then paused and pointed out to Jo that the walls were only partially natural.
‘I know,’ she said, ‘I can see. But who did it?’
‘Carved out of the living rock,’ mused the Doctor. ‘Clumsy, but effective. And this band of phosphorescent strata... That’s ingenious!’
‘It’s also very peculiar,’ muttered Jo, keeping close. to the Doctor’s shoulder. ‘Have you even seen anything like it before?’
‘Can’t say that I have, Jo... no...’
‘And that storm outside—didn’t you notice anything odd about that, too?’ asked Jo, urgently.
‘In what way?’ muttered the Doctor casually, his mind more taken by the quality of the rock formation.
‘Well... all that sheet lightning and thunder and wind—but no rain?’
‘And what,’ queried the Doctor, ‘do you deduce from that?’
‘Nothing,’ said Jo, trying to sound casual. ‘It’s just that I wonder if were still on Earth. That’s all.’
The Doctor stopped examining the rock, and turned to look gravely into Jo’s wide-eyed face. He didn’t smile.
‘As a matter of fact, Jo, you may be quite right.’ He turned his head to look along the dimly lit tunnel which wound its way deeper into the mountain. ‘I think we’d better try and find out, don’t you?’
The delegate’s conference room was, like the rest of the mighty castle, walled with faced stone. In spite of its rugged quality it was luxurious by Pel standards. Four alcoves contained iron-hinged wooden doors leading to the living quarters reserved for each alien. The walls between these alcoves were hung with richly woven tapestries bearing the Royal Arms. In the lower quartering of each tapestry featured in gold, was a stark representation of Aggedor, the Royal Beast. Wall torches lit the room cheerfully, and another, smaller alcove contained the statue of a huntsman, cast in a metal like bronze. Alpha Centauri was used to more elegant and sophisticated surroundings. His sensory system flinched slightly at the primitive impact made by the chamber. Politeness however prevented his commenting on the barbarism of the style and content of Peladon’s hospitality.
‘Very suitable,’ piped the iridescent hexapod rippling his tentacles in appreciation.
‘Our ways are different from yours, naturally,’ murmured Hepesh, assuming correctly that Alpha Centauri was used to something better. ‘If there is anything further that you wish...’
‘A question,’ fluted the hexapod, its solitary eye confronting Hepesh at uncomfortably close range. ‘Why was your Chancellor destroyed?’
‘That is for the king to explain,’ replied the High Priest evasively, then quickly changed the subject. ‘This chamber is for delegate meetings. Your personal living quarters are here.’ He opened one of the alcove doors. The hexapod looked inside, mentally flinched at the harshness of the decoration, and turned back to Hepesh to make a suitably bland comment. Before he could do so, a flat metallic voice cut across the room.
‘Greetings. I am the delegate from Arcturus. Who are you?’
Alpha Centauri had never before met an Arcturian face to face, and what he now witnessed made his sensors tingle with curiosity and apprehension. At first glance he saw a tinted but transparent globe of fluid, mounted on a compact and elaborate traction unit, the whole strongly resembling a robot rather than an alien life-form. But closer examination showed that within the fluid floated a delicate, multi-strand organism, and that at its centre was lodged the vital neuro-complex that governed its