The Fairy Lights A Seventh Doc and Ace story. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The copy right of all things pertaining to the concept and characters of Dr Who is the property of the BBC. This story is a work of fan fiction; it has been written simply for the pleasure it gave me in writing it; and no money has or will change hands with respect to the story. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Ace sat on a rock by the lakeside moodily skipping stones across the water. The ragged skyline of the far shore told a story of the wanton savagery of warfare. The city must once have been beautiful; but now only shattered ruins stood against an orange sunset. Flocks of scavenger birds misted the sky over the ruins as they swirled and settled upon the corpse of the city. A bitter breeze brought her their harsh cries. Hissing in the trees at her back, the breeze worried at her brown hair, dragging strands across her eyes. She scowled. What the hell did the Prof think he was doing? While a planet burned, he was off with a gaggle of ragamuffin children among the trees, telling them fairy stories... Fairy stories for Christ's sake! These people didn't need stories of fairy light shining in the night to give them new hope, and lead them to some mythical Green Vale. What they needed was some sort of practical help in defeating the enemy - like a few tons of strategically placed Nitro-9. That was the kind of help, Ace felt, would do most good on this war-ravaged world. All the Doc had said when she'd pointed this out was to say "sometimes, Ace, sometimes the only thing you are permitted to offer is hope." Permitted... When had he ever sought permission for dragging down despots? "And what effin use was hope anyway, without something to help it along a little?" Ace asked herself, moodily prodding the back pack of Nitro-9 with her booted foot. She pushed back the strands of hair blowing across her face, flung the last pebble, and got up from the rock. Stuffing hands into the warmers of her bomber jacket, she stalked over to where the Doctor was squatting amid a large crowd of children. His hat, held in one hand, was being flourished to emphasise some point or other, while his brolly sketched a map on the darkening air. Ace stopped at the edge of the crowd of refugees from the city. A fair few adults had also gathered to listen. "And when you see the Fairy Lights floating in the air... then... then it will be time to rejoice for the dark times will be over. So always remember, everybody must watch for the coming of the Fairy Lights. It is very important. They will be a sign from the King and Queen of the Fairy Folk that the end of your troubles is at hand; and you must be sure to lift up your hearts and rejoice." The Doctor rose, replaced his hat, hooked the brolly over his arm and looked around with satisfaction at the children staring at him, their eyes wide with wonder. "Remember... when all is darkest, and all the world weeps with despair, watch for the lights. When you see them, be strong and brave for just a little while longer, for it will be the sign that the happy times are returning," he reiterated, before picking his way out of the crowd of spellbound children. Ace fell in beside him as the Doctor headed towards the TARDIS parked among the trees. She was still scowling. They walked in silence for a while before the Doctor asked "Is something wrong, Ace?" Ace stopped, turned to stare at him. "You're just going to walk away?" she asked. "I've told the children the Story," the Doctor answered. "There's nothing more I can do for these people at this time." Ace was so agitated she missed the Doctor's capitalisation of Story. She flung out an arm at the ragged band of people beginning to drift away aimlessly along the lake shore. "You're just going to let them sink into barbarism, when there's so much you could do?" "Really," said the Doctor, "what would you suggest then, Ace? A few cans of Nitro-9 aren't going to stop this tragedy. And an explosion like that would draw the attention of... well, let's just say certain interested parties; and the interference of those parties in this matter would be a disaster far worse than anything Snigel can bring about." "So you're going to do nothing. I never thought I'd see the day when you admitted you were powerless to do anything." The Doctor stopped short, stung by Ace's accusation. After a moment, he resumed walking towards the trees of the wood. "I didn't say that, Ace," he called back to her. "I've already done all that can be usefully accomplished here." "What?! Telling a few Fairy Stories? That isn't going to help anyone. These people need saving. They need food and shelter. They need that Bastard Snigel getting his just deserts! They don't need stories of pie in the sky and jam tomorrow." "You should never underestimate the power in stories, Ace," the Doctor flung back. "Now do come along, Ace. We wouldn't want to be late for the Fairy Lights now would we?" Ace stomped after him. She was angry; but it was an anger born of a sense of betrayal. She did not want to believe that he was capable of just walking away from such a monstrous injustice as Snigel's wanton ravaging of the unique and beautiful Shellen civilisation. She knew that the Doctor could be a bit of a shit at times; but that he would turn his back and walk away from such an overwhelming injustice when she knew he must have the power to help... that hurt. She stared at his retreating back, for the first time really wondering about just what he was. What did go on inside that alien mind? Up to this moment, she felt certain she understood him - at least a little. Then he goes an does something like this. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "Sharba, come down from there!" The half-starved woman standing on the rock ignored Hallon's call. A few tattered scraps of cloth about her fluttered in the wind. It was cold standing in the wind off the desert; but it gave Sharba an unobstructed view to the south. Heavy clouds pressed low over the miles of dunes. Driven before the bitter wind, the great waves of dust migrated without purpose across the Barrens. That wind, laden with the bitter dust, knifed into Sharba's scrawny body. She barely noticed. She was too intent on scouring the leaden sky for the sign. Hallon scrambled up to stand beside her. For a moment, he stood there hugging the rags to his emaciated frame, peering into the sky, trying to make out what Sharba found so fascinating. He could see nothing except the ever present grey clouds pressing down upon the desert far below. He turned to the girl. "Sharba, what are you doing up here? The meeting is about to begin. If you are not there, Hammu will speak un-apposed. You can't let that happen." Sharba said, "I'm watching for the Fairy Lights." Hallon snorted with derision. "Not that old legend again. Sharba, it's just a story for children. There was no Great Wizard and he made no promise of the Green Vale or the Fairy Lights foretelling a time of plenty once we found the Vale. It's just a tale for children. There's nothing more than that in it. It will end here - no matter what is decided. Now, come back to the cavern; the Council is about to meet. Hammu will present his proposals for surrender. If you are not there to speak against him, he will sway the people to his side." Sharba sighed. "I will not speak in defence of staying in the caverns, Hallon. You know my mind on this. If I speak at the Council, it will be that we must abandon the cavern. It is a false refuge. The fungi cannot be dared forever. In time, eating them will poison us. We must press on, and brave the Barrens, seek the road to the Green Vale as the Wizard foretold." Hallon stared at her incredulous. "You cannot be serious, Sharba. It's madness." Sharba stared defiantly at him for a long moment, while the bitter tasting wind streamed her ragged hair. The eyes in her thin face were clouded with indecision, and a growing despair. Though she struggled against it, the despair was on the very point of overthrowing her faith in the legend of the Fairy Lights. At last, she shook her head. "Of course it's madness. No, Hallon, I am not being serious. There has been no sign. If only there had been some sign. Maybe if the Fairy Lights had come?..." She trailed off into a defeated silence. She turned to gaze one last time out across the Barrens, seeking the vision of the Green Vale she could no longer sustain without some sign. There was only the dunes migrating forever before the bitter wind. At last, she admitted defeat, and said in a low voice. "No, there is no Green Vale waiting for us across the Barrens... But it was a wonderful dream while it lasted." She shrugged. Come on, we can't let Hammu talk the people into surrendering. If the dream must end here, then we should at least make a token resistance - since either way we must die." She turned to jump down from the boulder, but realised that Hallon was not listening. He was staring out over the rocks from which bubbles of light were rising up, dancing in the air, flashing all the colours of the rainbow. As the two starved people watched in awe, the bubbles streamed over them, bursting against their wondering faces to release the scent of flowers. Sharba spoke with eloquence at the meeting of a Green Vale. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Ace paused from pumping the handle. A pipe led from the base of the stirrup pump into a tank and some sort of cobbled together apparatus set up among some huge grey boulders at the edge of a desert. She wiped a hand over her brow leaving a smear of dirt. "How much longer, Prof?" she asked. The Doctor, who was adjusting a nozzle which was spewing out huge soap bubbles with one hand, whilst playing the beam from a laser projector across them with the other, glanced back at her. He grinned. "Just a little while longer, Ace," he encouraged. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The end.