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By Root 653 0

why the Silver Palace had such a grandiose name. While it resembled a fortress from the outside, the interior was pure casino, albeit a little rough around the edges. The room they entered was a wide, open space reminiscent of a warehouse, painted a rusty red. Down one side of the room ran an underlit bar, which seemed to be doing a busy trade. At the other end of the room was a stage, where a rather attractive young woman was singing, supported by an unenthusiastic backing band. The rest of the room was given over to various tables where people sat, played cards and engaged in other chaotic gambling pursuits. Staff in tightfitting crimson uniforms were all over the place, working the tables either as croupiers or waiters. Their uniforms had nifty silver trim, and a logo which resembled an italicised dollar sign, a sloping s with a line through it. Fitz idly wondered what it meant. Whatever, the Silver Palace had drinks, gambling, table service; it was exactly the kind of seedy space dive Fitz liked to see.

Fitz turned to the Doctor and Anji. Time to see how far our credit stretches, dont you think? He rubbed his hands together gleefully.

Dont get carried away, said the Doctor sternly. Remember, were here to find someone who can retrieve the TARDIS, not bankrupt ourselves with huge gambling debts.

Fitz gave the Doctor a mock salute. No problem. But, fiscal problems aside, I still think we should start our search at the bar.

Miraso examined the sample with interest. It was definitely organic, probably some form of fruit. Black seeds were visible within the browning flesh. There were none of the telltale signs of a genetic forgery, a familiar species reengineered to resemble something more exotic. Miraso knew those signs well she had been a forger herself in the past, before her current employment at the Silver Palace. As deputy to the Palaces owner she tended to take first look at acquisitions such as the current sample, as well as overseeing the long term development of any breeding programmes initiated. Today though, her boss was having one of his periods of scrutinising every detail of the Palaces operation. These periods of micromanagement came infrequently but suddenly, and the fear of sudden scrutiny was enough to keep the Palace free of any mismanagement, at any level. Even the lowliest brewer in the Palaces vast cellars didnt dare dilute the product for his own ends, for fear that one week the big man himself would be down there with them, watching the work and looking out for any wrongdoing.

Miraso took the sample, and placed it in the tray of an analyser in one corner of the room. The tray slid into the machine, and a series of numbers began to flow across the machines screen, complex expressions of the samples composition. Soon the software would translate the results into something more comprehensible.

The room was in near darkness to aid the resolution of the holoprojector set into the centre of the floor. Miraso stepped away from the analyser and watched as the projector flickered into life, information fed straight from the analyser to this three dimensional representation. A glowing green replica of the sample rotated in midair.

A low chuckle came from the darkness at the other end of the room. Miraso could see the faint glow of one red eye, the glint of metal in the shadows.

If this is what I think it is, said a rich, bassheavy voice, then our employees on the door require a raise. Start with a free dose of hedeez for them both, I think theyre going to need it.

Miraso laughed politely. Her bosss low laughter echoed around the room.

The hologram focused on one of the seeds within the sample, and from that extrapolated a life cycle. The seed became a plant, growing into a tall tree, branches spreading out across the room. Miraso watched in fascination as blossoms grew on each branch, followed by lovely round fruit, which in turn contained the seeds. It was a beautiful demonstration of a life cycle, a wonder of natural development.

Heavy footsteps echoed across the room. Huge