From: Clive@cj4386.demon.co.uk (Clive May) Subject: Re: A story we can all create.. Date: Wed, 21 Nov 01 23:25:37 GMT The second attempt by the Doctor to board the city, was handled with more circumspection. Gorthund directed the birds to a docking platform that stuck out at least three wing-spans from the side of the structure. It had been meant for freight, in the days when Avis had truck with such things. The Doctor's bird settled at the extreme edge, well away from the PNPG field's worst effects. The bird had stopped only long enough for the Doctor to slide to the decking, before it had dropped away out of sight. Gorthund came in, using the more usual manner of leaping from the back of a stalled bird. The Doctor was waiting at the edge of the platform, holding onto the single guard rail. He was peering into the south, his expression grim. "Doctor?" The Doctor spun round, the wind agitating his white mop of hair. "I've got to speak to whoever's in charge, at once!" he demanded. " I must locate and retrieve my TARDIS as soon as possible. Jo..." "A snatch squadron of the Elite Temple Guard has already been despatched. If anyone can get that box back for you, they'll do it. They once snatched a Servii War Chief the Queen wished to remonstrate with over unpaid taxes, right off the back of his Gurvuk, going at a dead run, and didn't even dent his armour." "That's all very well..." the Doctor began, but broke off as a squad of guards emerged onto the platform, through a ragged hole in a set of vast hangar doors. The two men were immediately surrounded. "A ceremonial guard," Gorthund explained hastily, a little embarrassed. "To escort you to your audience with Her Majesty High Priestess Shanneril. The usual Protocol and all that." "Of course, dear chap," agreed the Doctor, with a gracious smile ; but they both knew he was not fooled. He dusted some sand from the ruffles of his shirt, assumed a regal bearing, and set out briskly. His air of assurance created a credible impression that he was indeed a visiting dignitary, and that the armed men were in truth an honour guard. They passed through an outer ring of deserted buildings which brought them into a broad way, running right around the perimeter of the city. The paved way was uneven, breaking up in places. Plants showed through the cracks, and in the angles of walls. An atmosphere of dilapidated weariness clung to the scene. In the middle of the road, the Doctor paused, forcing his honour guard to do likewise. He squinted up at the blue shimmer which hazed the sky above the broken towers. "You know, old chap," he mused. "It wouldn't be that difficult to induce a restricted rupture in the PNPG field to act as a portal. Then you could have the birds land right inside the city limits, instead of that risky business of jumping in from a flying bird." He turned an expectant look upon Gorthund. "What do you say, my dear chap? If I could get a look at the generator room, It could be fixed up in a jiffy? I could even re- align the phase field oscillations too, while I was at it. You'll have to do that soon anyway, or the whole thing's going to flip over." "Alas, such a thing could not be permitted without Priestess Shanneril's express orders," Gorthund said. There was some quality in his tone that warned the Doctor that Gorthund was not entirely happy with this arrangement. The Captain of Temple Guards set off again. "This way, Doctor." he urged. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a walk." As they passed out of sight into a narrow alley, two men garbed in filthy rags stepped into the street from a doorway. They were both armed with those snub-nosed energy throwers the Skyborn used to such deadly effect against the Servii. The men exchanged a few words, then one hurried off. The one remaining, was joined by two ragged women, one carrying a sabre, the other a crude club. The man checked his weapon, and all three set off in pursuit of the Doctor's party. It took the little group more than an hour of walking through the desolation to reach their destination. Many times they had to detour around collapsed buildings. In all that time, the Doctor saw only three other people. A woman who had been digging over the soil in a small patch of garden between the buildings, paused to watch them go by with hooded, unfriendly eyes. The other two were standing guard on the entry to the intact looking tower to which Gorthund led them. He directed the Doctor inside. The climb that followed, up flight after flight of crumbling steps, had left even the Doctor winded. Eventually, he had been shown into a large, sparsely furnished room. There was a panoramic window running three quarters of the way around the walls. The door was shut and locked behind him. The Doctor strode across to the window, and gazed out over the ruins for a brief moment. Then he turned from the depressing vista of ruins and began pacing impatiently back and forth. After a short while of this, he took out his sonic screwdriver, and crossed to the door. There was too much to be done, locating his TARDIS, and going to Jo's rescue. He couldn't just cool his heels in this tower-top eyrie, waiting on the whim of some tyrannical old matriarch. The lurch, when they manhandled the TARDIS onto the trolley, was much worse than when the birds had set the box down on the outer edge of a broad docking platform. The jolt had made him spill some hot Earl Grey in his lap - and he didn't even like the wretched stuff! Trapped in the TARDIS, with nothing to do but watch the sky flow by, Cain's assessment of possible future outcomes had made it clear to him that all he could do was await developments. Loathe to waste any opportunity, he'd stowed his meager handful of possessions, and gone exploring. The TARDIS had taken, what seemed to him, a malicious and unwarranted exception to his nosing about. All he'd found was a large comfy arm chair, which he'd wheeled into the console room, a lot of passages which led nowhere, locked doors, and a food preparation area. So far, whatever he'd tried to get the unit to dispense, all it would produce was an annoyingly extensive range of teas, buttered scones or hot crumpets. He'd finally cut his losses, and returned to the console room with a tray of tea, and some buttered crumpets. Doffing his coat and draping it over the chair, he'd settled in to watch the glittering monstrosity of Avis City swelling in all its dilapidated glory on the web-worked screen. The gentle penduluming motion had been quite soothing. The ride would have been quite pleasant, if not for the uncertainties lurking at its end, and an annoying buzz in the TARDIS hum which told him it was sulking. There'd been trouble when he had propped his booted feet on the console; but after being thwarted by the machine in his explorations, and then with the food dispenser, Cain had dug his heels in asserting his will. He got up from the chair, and patted ineffectually at the hot dampness in his lap. The TARDIS sounded smug. Cain ignored it, concentrating on the screen. The journey through the city was a series of aggravating glimpses; but he saw enough to deduce that the TARDIS was being hauled in the general direction of Old Mother Shanneril's tower top roost. He was not surprised. Shanneril kept a tight hold on the reins of power; she delegated nothing. It was a sure bet that anything like the TARDIS would be delivered post-haste for her inspection. Cain returned to the chair, to await events in comfort. He listened with attentive interest to the grumbling comments of the party moving the TARDIS. Information was always useful. It was nearly an hour before the jerking and rolling stopped. The scanner showed only a blank wall. He turned up the gain on the audio, listening for another ten minutes, until he was certain the way was clear. Then he opened the doors, and went out. He walked slap into a metal wall, about four inches in front of the door. They left within the hour, their promptness forestalling any real trouble. There was a brisk exchange of pleasantries at the north gate, which left two guards dead, and a couple of Rahaaz's raiders with flesh wounds. Once clear of the "town" of hovels clustered about the walls, the Gurvuks were put to the gallop with determination. There was only one possible place where Babydoll's hare-brained plan for rescuing Cain had any chance. It lay a hard ride away across the hot desert. This time, because it was her idea, Babydoll rode up in the van among Rahaaz's lieutenants. There was some grumbling, even from his most loyal men. Rahaaz had not entirely believed Babydoll when she had sworn that there was a way to reach Avis City. If Babydoll's plan failed, he would throw them to his raiders. Their deaths would do much to assuage the outraged sensibilities of his chief men. The cause of the Sacred Land would be strengthened by this act; so that when the tribes fell upon the Vale, it would be as one united people. Bella, bundled in filmy midnight, rode up behind Babydoll. This was partly because she was not sure of being able to control the lumbering beasts while the sun was up, and partly because the Gurvuks had taken a violent exception to her. The scaled beasts had long memories, and the first meeting between the slight woman and their race was fresh in their savage little minds. As the day wore onto evening, and Rahaaz held to the killing pace, Bella began to wilt. Even Babydoll was beginning to roll in the saddle with fatigue by the time the sun went down. Once the stars came out, Bella rallied. Throwing off the muffling swathes of midnight cloth, she send her hair flying free in the cooling breeze. Her grip around Babydoll's waist grew firmer; and she began a low crooning love-song to the deepening dark. The night was "her time". The eerie, lilting moan raised the hackles all down Babydoll's spine. An hour after dark, the bulk of a ridge loomed up before them. Rahaaz called a halt at the base of the sandstone scarp, and made a disposition of his force. He broke it into two unequal squads. The smaller, he put under the command of Ghanzaz, a fearsome and trusted raider. "Thou hast thine orders, loyal Ghanzaz," Rahaaz bellowed, and waved the troop captain away. The snorting Gurvuks moved off in a jostling mass, along the foot of the escarpment. A grey plume of dust went up in their wake, as they thundered into the west. Rahaaz dismounted and started barking out orders. His raiders flung themselves to earth, and gathered together the equipment the blond braided woman had bid them bring along. Babydoll slid to earth, and turned to study the cliffs blotting out half the sky. She hoped it wasn't as hard as it looked. They had to be on the plateau in less than an hour, or the plan was out the window. Rahaaz barked more orders. His heavily armoured raiders began an assault on the cliff with the same zest they demonstrated in facing an overwhelmingly superior enemy. They swarmed up the sheer face like flies running up a window. Babydoll held no illusions about matching their performance. Where the Servii relied on sheer physical strength, she employed her quick mind. Bella helped her to rope the captured bird saddles to their backs; and they scrambled easily up the sheer face. Even with the lift of the saddles, they arrived on the plateau ten minutes behind the last Servii. Rahaaz's raiders were already making preparations for the assault on Avis City, laying out coils of rope, and securing their extra war gear in bundles. Babydoll stood up, handed Bella up over the lip, and gazed around. A desolate tableland stretched away, fading into the dark. The rough terrain was dotted with huge rocks which the wind born sand had sculpted into weird shapes. Between and around them, stunted plants clung on in the thin soil. A stiff breeze hissed through the mean leaves, underscoring the desolation. Rahaaz's voice boomed out, startling Babydoll from her contemplation of the dreary vista. He pointed east with a shining long sword. "Already, approacheth the verminous bolt hole of the Skyborn curs!" Babydoll looked,but could see nothing. Bella, though, nodded and said: "I'd say we've got about ten minutes to get ready, so long as it comes on at the same speed." Rahaaz agreed with a grunt, and gathered the two captured saddles. They were lashed together; the end of a long coil of rope was tied to them. More coils of the special rope were unrolled and joined to the first. For a few minutes, Bella hovered around, giving unnecessary advice about the preparations, before she moved into the dark to prepare herself for her own part in the mad scheme. She was by no means happy about the risky plan; but the dark helped to calm her nerves; and the gritty breeze, fluttering her hair and midnight cloak, drew off her misgivings. The night was "her time". Babydoll, studying the sky to the east, finally made out a looming darkness obliterating the thin scatter of stars. It looked an awful long way up. Sudden misgivings assailed her. It was a hideous risk, especially for Bella. Some encouragement for "Fangs" might not come amiss. She peered around, seeking the other woman. She really ought to at least wish her good luck. Bella stood on one of the weirdly wind sculpted boulders, some ten feet overhead. The wind was streaming her hair and cloak. She gave a sensuous little wriggle. The cloak and dress fluttered away, leaving her outlined, pale and naked, against the scatter of frosty stars. Raising her arms, Bella let out a long tormented moan, like a wind lost in a pine forest. All the activity stopped abruptly. The Servii turned to stare, with eyes grown suddenly wide with superstitious fear. A score of clawed paws formed the symbol to ward off the demons from the Outer Dark. A shimmering of darkness enfolded the slight form on the rock. It boiled and pulsed, warping into a vaguely egg shaped smear of nether dark. Then it split. Rising, as though hatching from an egg made from midnight, a giant bat fluttered against the sky. On leathery wings, the monstrosity swooped down among the raiders. Rahaaz's men scattered. He and Babydoll alone stood unflinching, as the giant bat grabbed up the saddles in a taloned claw, and swooped up into the night. "Good luck, Fangs!" Babydoll shouted after the vanished form. For a while, the only sound was the breeze, the rustle of the rope as it spiraled up into the night, and the occasional clink an creak of harness as the Servii came creeping back from their bolt holes. They stared up expectantly at the dark bulk overhead which had forever eluded their swords by the simple expedient of being for ever out of reach. Rahaaz's jaws worked as he began a low war chant. His three eyes glittered with the anticipation of the coming fight. He knew now he'd been right to trust Babydoll, although it went counter to all the sacred codes of the Servii to permit a woman to take a hand in warfare. Yes, he had been right to trust his instincts about the blond braided alien female. A most satisfactory settlement of the problem posed by the Wingborn scavengers was at hand. Rahaaz had lived for this glorious day, ever since leading his clan out of the High Desert to join Cain's crusade. Babydoll suddenly shivered. She rubbed palms over the tingling skin of her arms. The PNPG field supporting the city was getting very close. She bit her lip in sudden concern. Had they left it too late? If bella got caught under that field? Babydoll shuddered. The consequences would not be pleasant. She stared up into the sky, willing Bella to be careful. She had grown kind of fond of "Fangs" since she had come to stand at her side in Cain's office. The pale woman's grit had spoken to her in that language which has no words. All through the long gallop to get into position, Babydoll had been struggling with a strange new emotion. She had finally admitted to herself that she actually liked Cain's pet monster. Now, when she thought "thing" it had a wholly new flavour - affection? "I must be getting soft," she muttered, and silently urged Bella to be careful. A great flash lit up the south western horizon. Babydoll dropped into a defensive crouch. Lagging seconds behind the light show, came an explosion which rocked the ground. This was followed by more flashes of distant explosions. Rahaaz grunted in satisfaction. "Maketh thou a distraction to grabbeth the attention of the vermin," he had commanded Ghanzaz at the foot of the bluff, leaving the details to the capable henchman. Ghanzaz was making a most splendid show. The attention of the Skyborn vermin would assuredly be elsewhere now, long enough for his raiding party to get aloft unseen. The fortress arrived overhead. Its height was as Rahaaz had said - around fifteen hundred feet. This was the nearest to the ground it ever came. These hills were the only point at which the plan might have any chance of success. Light as the special rope was, even withthe the lift of the saddles, a length like that was going to tax Bella's night enhanced strength to the limit. Time, too, was critical. She would have to get the rope fixed to the north east quarter to give them as much time as possible before the rotation took the rope around the southern edge, and then drew it back under the field as it came round in front. They all had to be on the structure well before that moment. Climbing directly under the field would be unendurable. Shinning up a fifteen hundred foot long rope would be no picnic with the added problem of the field. It was not something Babydoll was looking forward to. Not for the first time, since setting out from Serviion, she experienced misgivings at this crazy scheme. Then the pressure on her nerves eased, as the back edge moved past and the stars came out again. Babydoll checked her equipment. She was going up light, just her trusty pistol and the dagger in the sheath on her thigh. All of the Servii were going up in full armour. She didn't envy them. The rope would take the weight easily. It was a special monofilament material, ten times stronger than a like thickness of steel, and only a fraction of the weight of normal nylon rope. A blood freezing cry floated down to the raiding party. Rahaaz started giving orders. The raiders began to swarm up the rope, hand over hand. Rahaaz went next to last, and Babydoll brought up the rear. After seeing the effortless way the Servii swarmed up, Babydoll was glad that she' d not insisted on being in the van. She was soon lagging far behind. Only kept in touch with events by the jerking of the rope in her hands. soon, her arms and legs were aching. Sweat was running freely. She was trying to ignore the fact that if they were seen, they were the proverbial "sitting ducks". No sooner had the thought entered her brain, when she was dazzled by a brilliant yellow light. The powerful beam swept around a moment, before it dipped down and picked out the climbing Servii against the surrounding dark. An energy weapon lanced a crackling blue bolt down among the climbing raiders. There was a scream of agony. there cane the unmistakable bark of Rahaaz's Webley. The light went out with a loud crash. Babydoll was almost flung from the rope as it jerked violently. Something large rushed past her in the dark, going down, trailing the smell of seared flesh and hot metal. "Smeg! Oh Smeg! Oh Smeg!" she snarled through gritted teeth. Now they were for it. Rahaaz's fine shooting had earned them a momentary respite. It would not last, the element of surprise had been well and smegging truly lost. Wrapping the rope around her left wrist, Babydoll drew the pistol and prepared to go down fighting.