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Bernice had a strange expression on her face. Strange for a human, anyway.

‘Your pilot,’ she said, ‘the one who turned traitor. What was his full name?’

Powerless Friendless thought for a moment, feeling his way through the shards of memory. ‘His Hith name was Vap Oppat Pol, but all Hith changed their names after we lost Hithis. The name he chose was Homeless Forsaken Betrayed And Alone.’

Bernice’s face tightened, and she glanced away.

Powerless Friendless

thought he heard her say, ‘Bastard,’ but he might have been wrong.

Beltempest watched impotently as Hater Of Humans And Leader of Hith rotated an eyestalk to face one of the two Hith guards. The guard immediately pushed a chair over from the side of the tent. Hater of Humans sank into its curves. The Hith referred to as its scapegoat stood erect by its side, next to the metal box with the air holes in the lid.

Hater Of Humans’s eyestalks turned towards Zebulon Pryce.

‘We have been waiting for years, hoping that you would find a way off Dis,’

it said. ‘We debated whether to attempt to rescue you, but we could find no gaps in security, no weaknesses, nothing that we could use. Finally, you are here. If you can help us, we will set you free. You will never have to return to Dis.’

‘What makes you think I want to go free?’ Pryce asked. ‘I had everything on Dis that I needed.’ Somewhere, deep inside his dark eyes, a small red spark seemed to glow.

Hater Of Humans’s eyestalks drooped. ‘Whatever you want will be provided,’ it said.

‘I need victims. Lots of them.’

‘Men they will be provided.’

Beltempest could see that Pryce was ignoring the Doctor’s appalled expression. ‘You must need my help badly,’ he said.

175

‘The future of the Hith race depends upon it,’ Hater Of Humans replied with heavy dignity.

Beltempest couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘The Hith race hasn’t got a future,’ he shouted. ‘You’re just a ragged bunch of scavengers skulking around the universe, finding homes wherever you can, and yet you dare –’

The stunner beam caught him without warning as he was breathing out. He tried to catch his breath, but couldn’t. A red haze settled over his vision and pins and needles tingled through his limbs. He slumped back into his chair, trying desperately to breathe.

‘One more sound from you,’ the female Hith said, reholstering her weapon,

‘and I’ll kill you.’

Beltempest listened against his will as Hater Of Humans continued speaking.

‘Yes,’ it said in apparent sadness, ‘our race is scattered around the universe.

Our warriors serve in restaurants on half a hundred planets; our diplomats clean urinals; our scientists and industrialists beg on the streets. Our most sublime artists clean shoes for a living. We are forced to congregate together, even though we hate company. Even here, in our most secret base, we have to hide. We are destroyed as a civilization. And yet –’ The Hith sighed deeply.

‘– we still have our pride.’

‘The technology on this ship,’ the Doctor’s voice prompted, from outside Beltempest’s field of view.

‘Ah.’ Hater Of Humans nodded, its eyestalks bobbing. ‘Yes. Without re-course to our factories and stockpiles, with our home world taken from us, we have found other ways to keep our race intact. The Hith who are scattered across the accursed human Empire pay a proportion of whatever they can earn or beg to us in taxes. These taxes – paid in various ways, in various currencies – are being used to rebuild our fleets, our weapons, our pride. We will buy from anybody – humanity, the Draconians, the Daleks, the Usurians, the Ook. Even the Cimliss.’

‘To what end?’ the Doctor asked.

‘To regain our world,’ Hater Of Humans said simply.

‘By war?’

Beltempest managed to shift his head slightly so that he could see along the table, past the Doctor’s head to where Pryce was sitting.

‘By whatever means necessary,’ Hater Of Humans said, and glanced at Pryce.

‘And that is why we need your help.’

‘You realize,’ the Doctor persisted, ‘that this man is a