Doctor Who_ Storm Harvest - Mike Tucker [18]
‘What brings you to Coralee, Mr Bryce?’ asked the Doctor.
Bryce poured the rest of his wine into his glass and leant back in his seat, waving at the robot wine waiter for another bottle. ‘I’m writing a book on the colonies, Doctor. A gazetteer. Walking the Final Frontier; The Travels of Edwin Bryce. I’ve already been published, of course.
Androgum Cookery for Novices: How to Master the Boomerang Spoon. Perhaps you’ve read it?’
The Doctor shook his head. Bryce failed to disguise his disappointment.
‘Ah, well – no matter.’ The robot waiter arrived with a fresh bottle and Bryce took great pains to check the wine, sniffing it and sloshing it around theatrically before shooing the robot away. He snatched the Doctor’s glass from him and filled it, then filled his own again. ‘This new book will collect some of the fascinating stories from these colonies, both from those intrepid terraformers and from some of the aboriginal species that still exist. Coralee is the last world on my grand tour.’
He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘It’s a planet with quite a history. All the neighbouring worlds have stories and legends about it, some of them quite explicit. I’ve seen records referring to Coralee as far out as the Cachalot system.’
The Doctor’s curiosity was piqued. He fingered the shell in his jacket pocket. ‘What sort of legends, Mr Bryce?’
Bryce looked over his shoulders, as if expecting someone to be lurking in the shrubbery. ‘War,’ he hissed. ‘Violence. Genocide.’ He threw back another glass of wine. ‘The indigenous species here were among the most warlike that the galaxy has ever seen. Planets light years away lived in fear of them, but they seemed to spend most of their time fighting among themselves. Then, suddenly, overnight...’
Bryce drew his hand across his throat. ‘All of ’em. All gone.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘The entire species?’
Bryce was beginning to sway in his seat. He waggled a drunken finger at the Doctor. ‘All that’s left are the cities, out in the sea. And for years afterwards every ship that set down on Coralee was destroyed.’ He gestured upwards. The locals wouldn’t go near the planet. For centuries no one except the Dreekans would come here at all. Until us, until the indome... intimotob...’ He hiccuped. ‘The unstoppable human race.’
He sloshed more wine into his glass and raised it in a toast.
33
‘Here’s to us. Here’s to humans.’
The Doctor’s mind was already sifting through the information he had been given. ‘Do any of the legends say how these ships were destroyed?’
‘Ah...’ Bryce tapped his nose. ‘Now you want to know about the Krill.’
‘The Krill...’ The Doctor’s hand strayed once again to the shell.
‘Yes, tell me about the Krill, Mr Bryce.’
Bryce shook his head. ‘Nothing to say. There are no pictures, no fossils, just the stories of their savagery.’
The Doctor sat forward eagerly. ‘Tell me the stories.’
Bryce waggled a finger at him, his other hand reaching for the bottle again. ‘Ah, now you’re going to have to buy the book, Doctor. Can’t give away too many free samples now, can I?’
The Doctor was about to argue when he noticed Bryce staring over his shoulder, open-mouthed. The Doctor turned in his seat. An elegant young woman stood before them, and it took the Doctor a couple of seconds to realise that it was Ace. She was wearing a long dress of some silk-like material, deep blue fading to sea green, that wound around her in a delicate swirl. Her shoulders were bare, a fine filigree of shells trailing around her neck and down one arm. Her hair was wound in an elaborate bun, pinned with another shell. She smiled shyly.
‘Is this all right, Professor?’
The Doctor rose to his feet and beamed at her. ‘Wicked.’
He turned back to the table. ‘Mr Bryce, may I introduce my young friend Ace?’
Bryce rose and took Ace’s hand, kissing it with a flourish.
‘Charmed. Will you please join us, Miss Ace?’
Ace curled herself elegantly into one of the wicker chairs as Bryce relieved a passing waiter of another glass