From: Clive@cj4386.demon.co.uk (Clive May)
Subject: Re: A story we can all create..
Date: Sat, 03 Nov 01 14:52:27 GMT

In answer, Prak pointed behind them.  "Look!  Already the Servii come like
blood flies to a bloating corpse!"

The doctor and Jo spun round.  On the southern horizon, a great grey dust
cloud was climbing into the brassy sky.  Glimpsed at its base was a surging,
jostling mass of monstrous half seen shapes.  The brassy sunlight glinted off
enormous scaled flanks.  Their riders were no less monstrous, glimpsed
through the curtain of dust, waving long swords of shining metal.  A great
howling arose from the mass as they sighted their prey, drowning out the
thunder of the galloping monsters.

While their backs were turned, Prak darted forward and took Jo around the
waist.  She screamed, and began to struggle; but Prak was immensely strong.
He flung her over a shoulder and raced to his waiting bird.  Hoisting Jo over
the birds back, he sprang into the saddle, and cried: "Up Windstrider.  Up
and away, Windstrider!"

The bird sprang aloft, the wind from its first mighty down stroke razing a
cloud of dust.  The great gust of wind swept the Doctor from his feet as he
rushed to Jo's aid.  He was up in an instant, and lunging for a clawed foot.
He got a hold.  The bird staggered in the air, the Doctor swung wildly, then
lost his grip.  He plummetted back to the sand with a terrific impact which
knocked all the wind from him.

Out of the south, the ghastly hoard thundered down upon the dazed Doctor.

Prak circled his airborne steed once around the TARDIS but the crackle of
musketry could be heard over the thunder of the charging hoard.  The air
around the bird became thick with flying lead.  Prak barked an order, and the
bird banked away, climbing over the billowing cloud of dust.

Face down over the neck, Jo had a crazy and terrifying view of the monstrous
steeds and their riders as they glared up at them, letting of shots from
ancient looking rifles and waving great clawed fists in rage.  Moments later,
the bird was past the horde and climbing into the south.

It got very cold as the bird drove higher into the sky.  Jo began to shiver,
despite the Doctor's coat, and tried to snuggle herself down into the thick
plumage.  Squeezing her eyes shut, she clung on for dear life.

They flew on south for an hour over the arid immensity of the desert.  The
landscape of dunes and salt flats flowed by under the soaring bird,
changeless.  Then, out of the south, grew the edge of the world.  It was a
line of gigantic fortifications stretching east to west from horizon to
horizon.  Beyond, was only empty air.

All along the line of the linear fortress, Jo could see little puffs of smoke
as the soldiery let fly at them with musket and cannon.  The air once more
grew dangerously full of flying lead shot.  Several went through the wings
and tail of Windstrider;one even spanged off Prak's brass helmet.  He lurched
in the saddle, under the near miss, looked for a moment as though he might
lose his grip, then wriggled back into the saddle.  He urged the bird to go
higher.  Straining mightily, Windstrider drove up into a safer zone, climbing
high over the fortress.  By the time they crossed the line, they were so high
that Jo could scarce make out any detail.

As they soared clear into the gulf beyond, Jo saw that the edge of the world
was a huge slip fault, some two thousand feet high.  The valley below was
choked with matted jungle.  The bird tilted down the sky, and the air grew
rapidly warmer and wetter.

They flew on over this green country for some minutes, before a great
sluggish river, like a fat silver snake winding its way through the forest,
came into view.  A moment later they were over the river.  On the far bank
was a ruined city, half eaten by the jungle.  One tall pyramid of crumbling
ancient stone rose above the centre of the dead city.  On its platform was a
huge ten foot tall statue seated in a stone throne, surrounded by a dozen
scarlet robed figures.  Before the statue was an alter.

Prak Set the bird down at the edge of the platform.  He eased the half
unconscious Jo to her feet.  She clutched at the bird for support, and stared
fearfully at the vaguely humanoid figure of the alien monster sitting stiffly
in the chair.  As she watched, the statue of grey stone turned carven blind
eyes upon her.  The long, fanged snout opened; and it spoke in a voice of
thunder.

"At last!  Josephine Grant!  Now the sacrifice can begin."