Fic: Water Music (13/17)
Title: Water Music
Author: azriona
Characters: The Doctor, River Song
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Big ones for Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead. Takes place prior to Water of Mars; if you haven’t seen it, you won’t be spoiled.
Betas: runriggers
Summary: The Doctor never expects to meet anyone in a linear fashion. How he meets River Song is slightly more non-lineal than most.
A/N: Thank you guys for your patience - I'll try to keep up regular Wednesday postings from here on out!
Chapters One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Running up the stairs from the center of the stadium to the city itself was tiring, but at least it didn’t make Alice dizzy. The air was filled with smoke and dust, and Tyminians to the left and right were wailing and shouting, but otherwise no one blocked their way, or tried to hold them back. River ran just in front of Alice, with the Doctor somewhere behind. As soon as they crested the stadium and were on the street, the Doctor quickly overtook them both, and led the way back to the city center, where the smoke was the thickest.
But even through the smoke, Alice could see what was wrong, as soon as they entered the familiar square. The fountain which had been filled with flowers was now filled with the rubble remains of the statue of Itrehan. All that remained of the fantastic two-faced demi-god was the foot clad in a sandal, the jagged edge breaking off somewhere above the ankle.
“Oh, not good,” groaned the Doctor, skidding to a halt. River pulled her notebook from her bag again.
“Fascinating,” she said, beginning to take notes. “The statue I saw a hundred years from now must be a recreation - I should have done a sketch of the one just destroyed, I thought something was off.”
“You knew this was going to happen?” snapped the Doctor.
“The histories aren’t exactly accurate,” said River, still writing. “I’ve been watching the entire history of Tyminia and Huftzar since the very beginning, trying to compile a comprehensive overview of the political structure. Should have known you’d be involved at some point, either the beginning or the end. You weren’t at the beginning, hence.” River smiled brilliantly at him. It didn’t help.
“I’m just sightseeing, I’m hardly involved.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” River scolded him, and tapped her chin with the butt of her pen. “What do you think, Alice, carbonite resonator, or just your basic gunpowder and charge?”
“Just because things tend to explode when I’m around...!”
“The destruction is too centralized on the statue for it to be a gunpowder charge,” mused River. “But carbonite resonators aren’t exactly common, are they? And the timing of the explosion was too perfect, right at the climax of the ceremony like that! Whoever set it off had to have been in the stadium with us, or they’d have never been able to time it so well.”
“Who’d want to blow up the statue of Itrehan anyway?” asked Alice. ‘Wasn’t he supposed to be the founder of Tyminia?”
“And Huftzar,” said the Doctor, his focus back on the fountain. “Both groups revere him. Wouldn’t make sense for either one to want to bring him down. Great galactic mystery, Itrehan - not how he managed to bring two warring peoples together, but why after several thousand years, it ground to a halt - no.” He spun around, mouth agape at River. “No! Don’t tell me that’s why-”
“Caught on finally, didn’t you?” said River smugly. “One of the best mysteries of the galaxy, and you think I’d willingly give it a miss?”
“The last time I saw you was in 19th century Paris,” said the Doctor, walking toward her now. “And this is three thousand years past that. And still a thousand years off when I left you before that.”
“Oh, I’ve seen you more recently than that,” said River brightly. “Oops, spoilers.”
“How did you get here?”
“More spoilers, I’m afraid,” said River, but she was distracted by something in her bag. “Alice, be a love - can you take a reading of the carbon residue on the stonework?” She pulled a small, flat object out of her bag and handed it over. “The button’s just there, on the side.”
Alice took the palm-sized device and flipped open the cover. It sprang to life, words and charts instantly flooding the small screen, showing measurements of Alice’s temperature, carbon make-up, DNA, and the remnants of the jam from her burnt toast that morning.
“Oh, wicked!”
“Clever, isn’t it?” said River with a cheeky grin. “Not a sonic screwdriver, of course, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
Alice went to the fountain and brushed some of the loose stone from the now-scarred edge. She rested the device on the stonework, and watched as the numbers began to fly by. They moved quickly, but following River’s advice, she found that the side button worked to slow down the read-out to a readable speed. Somewhere behind her, the Doctor and River still argued, and Alice half listened as she looked for the carbon read-out.
“Haven’t I given you one yet?” asked the Doctor, an odd note in his voice.
“You always say you will, but alas,” said River, again digging in her bag. “Who’d want that scrap of metal, anyway?”
“Oi! That scrap of metal saved your life in Paris.”
The carbon read-out popped up, and Alice clicked the “save” function before moving to a different part of the fountain, where the scarring was much thicker. It also took her a bit further from the arguing couple, something of a down side, but Alice herself was curious. How did Itrehan explode, exactly? And why? And more importantly, who had done it?
“I remember Paris quite differently.”
“Should have taken better notes,” challenged the Doctor.
The recorder was flashing “Not Enough Contact”; Alice scooted further behind the fountain, hoping for a more stable surface.
“Should have checked your control panel,” replied River sweetly. “You’re lucky you weren’t wearing your blue suit today.”
“Only had enough charge to do Alice’s outfit, not mine. You look well enough.”
Alice realized that the Doctor and River were now despairingly out-of-view; she craned her head, desperate to see River’s reaction to the compliment.
“I - ah - thank you.”
“Yellow makes most people look sallow. You’d think yellow and sallow would rhyme, wouldn’t you? They don’t. I wouldn’t recommend trying them in a poem together, it won’t work properly and then you’ll find yourself tied to a stake and no marshmallows.”
“Are you trying to back out of a compliment? Because you’re doing a terrible job of it.”
“What compliment?”
“The one you just gave me.”
The light touch on Alice’s arm nearly made her jump out of her skin. The young man from before the ceremony, who had offered her flowers - Midovian, that was his name - crouched next to her, his finger over his lips in the intergalactic sign for hush. Alice squeezed her lips together - the intergalactic sign for I won’t make a peep. He smiled, a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he brushed his hand against the cotton of Alice’s dress, still a deep shade of burgundy, and gave her a questioning look.
Alice shook her head, not understanding his concern, until she looked at him again. Whereas before, Midovian had worn burgundy - he had obviously found time to change, and his doublet was now a deep purple with silver embroidery. He brushed against Alice’s sleeve again, but the noise from the courtyard soon had them both crouching further behind the fountain.
It was without any doubt some kind of police regiment who converged upon the courtyard - but it was a very strange sort of regiment. They all wore uniforms with shiny buttons going down the front of the coat, and all were equipped with brimmed caps, belts, and a long sort of rifle. But fully half of the regiment was dressed in a bright red, with brass-colored buttons and rifles, while the other half wore bright blue, with silver-colored buttons and rifles. The effect of the two regiments, racing in from all directions, was very much like watching a cartoon rendered in garish colors. The officers circled the courtyard. The Doctor, out of habit, tried to shield River behind him, but she elbowed him hard in the ribs and stepped in front of him.
“State your purpose!” shouted one of the officers in blue, his eyes darting back and forth between the Doctor, River, and the red-dressed officers.
“Excuse me!” snapped one of the red officers. “I’m very terribly sorry, but I believe I’m still in charge.”
The officer in blue straightened and dropped his weapon. “You are not,” he whined. “It was blue, it’s our turn!”
“The ceremony didn’t end, you nit,” snapped the officer in red. “There was no actual exchange. You’re out of uniform and you’re impersonating an officer to boot.”
“You said very clearly that if Huftzar regained power, you’d let me be captain of the guard, and I saw Huftzar gain power-”
“You saw a blue bandana brandished about,” replied the red officer. “Go sit it in the corner and sulk, why don’t you.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor. “If you don’t mind...?”
“Oh, right, sorry,” said the red officer, and turned his rifle onto the Doctor’s nose. “State your purpose!”
The Doctor carefully pushed the rifle out of his face. “Simply here to determine who blew up the statue of Itrehan.”
“Did you see anyone do it?” piped up the blue officer, before the red officer threw him an angry glare.
“I’m in charge of this prisoner, thanks!”
“Prisoner?” yelped the Doctor.
“Why are we prisoners?” asked River.
“I’ll ask the questions!” shouted the red officer.
“You aren’t asking the right ones by half!” sang the blue officer from his seat near the Tyminian beer stand, from where he had somehow acquired a tankard of Tyminian beer, and had clearly downed a quarter of it already.
“As I recall, I haven’t asked any,” replied the red officer somewhat testily.
“You asked them to state their purpose.”
“That wasn’t a question, it was an order.”
“Well, you didn’t even do that properly, I don’t think you got an answer.”
The red officer swung his rifle back to the Doctor, and didn’t say a word. The Doctor, once again, carefully eased the rifle out of his face.
“I’m the Doctor, and this is River Song...”
“Hello,” said River cheerfully.
“We’re simply here to observe.”
“Most of the time,” agreed River.
“Yes, thank you, please stop helping,” said the Doctor.
The red officer glanced from one to the other. “The lady is with you?”
“Yes,” said River, while the Doctor said, “No.”
“Well, that is,” stammered the Doctor, while River turned to him and exclaimed, “What do you mean, no?!?”
“Just because I’m not with you now,” began River, while the Doctor rubbed his eyes and groaned, “It’s really very complicated.”
“If I’m in the middle of a marital spat,” said the red officer.
“We’re not married!” said the Doctor.
River didn’t say a word.
“Oh, go on,” scoffed the blue officer.
“We’re not married,” repeated the Doctor. “River. Tell the man we’re not married.”
River turned to the red officer. “Just out of curiosity, why are we being arrested?”
“River!” yelped the Doctor.
“The desecration of the statue of Itrehan, of course,” replied the red officer.
“Bit daft, aren’t they?” asked the blue officer cheerfully.
“But we didn’t do it,” said River. “We were in the stadium the entire time.”
“Then how is it you were here when we arrived?” asked the red officer.
“There’s the right question,” said the blue officer, rather pleased. “I’ll just put them under arrest then, shall I?”
“Not bloody likely,” said the red officer. “Seeing as I’m in charge.”
“Oh, come off it!” howled the blue officer. “You saw the scarves same as I - I’m in charge now. I ought to be arresting you.”
“I’ll put you under arrest for impersonating an officer! March, all of you!” The red officer poked the Doctor’s chest with the end of his rifle, and the Doctor jumped back, his face a perfect image of exasperated annoyance. “Hop on then, we can settle this at the station.”
Alice made a motion as if to stand - only two things stopped her. The Doctor gave her a quick glance, accompanied by a lightning-fast shake of the head. He wanted her to stay hidden, out of sight - free.
The second was Midovian next to her, his breathing steady and calm, and his warm hand on her arm.
As soon as the officers, still bickering, had left the courtyard with their prisoners in tow - the Doctor yelping all the way - Alice slumped to the ground and faced Midovian. “They didn’t do it.”
“I believe you,” said Midovian quietly. “Your dress-”
Alice glanced down at the still-burgundy clothes. “What about it?”
“I thought - perhaps I was mistaken. I thought you were Huftzar.”
There was a scramble from the courtyard again; footsteps pounding on the stonework, and voices raised in a shout. “Midovian - Midovian!”
Midovian stood quickly. “Here - just here.”
“I saw the guards, and thought-"
Midovian shook his head. “They didn’t see me.”
The other voice sounded at once relieved and worried. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” replied Midovian, and he reached down to Alice and took her hand, pulling her up beside him.
There were perhaps half a dozen people standing on the other side of the fountain. They were dressed in an odd mix of colors - reds and golds on some, and blues and purples on others. Among them, much to Alice’s surprise, were the two participants in the Ceremony - the young man still in his orange doublet, and the woman dressed in the Grecian blue robes, standing very near an old man dressed in bright blue robes, a bit like a druid, with a silver sash across his breast. It was the old man who stepped forward, with a hard look in his eye as he surveyed Alice up and down.
“A Tyminian wench, Midovian? Really.”
“Wench!?!” cried Alice, and Midovian squeezed her hand.
“She has not had time or opportunity to change, sir,” replied Midovian. “As I’ve no doubt some of you can accede.”
The man sniffed. “And you found her here?”
“Knocked unconscious by the blow,” lied Midovian. “I met her beforehand, sir, she placed a purple blossom in the fountain; you have no need to concern yourself about her loyalties.”
“Midovian,” hissed Alice, but he squeezed her hand again.
One of the men in red and orange stripes spoke up. Alice recognized him as the little man from the arena who had made the original proclamation. “Her loyalties should be with Tyminia,” he said sternly. “As should all of yours.”
“Huftzar won the challenge, Areanius,” replied the man in blue. “You’re no longer Regent, and this is no longer your planet.”
“There was no official transfer of power,” replied Areanius. “No official change of colors. It’s as much my planet now as it was this morning, Kylean. Your dress - and the boy’s - are treasonable offenses.”
“Areanius-” protested Kylean.
Areanius held up his hand. “You will not be arrested for treason. I understand that all is confused, and once the people have settled, I do intend to transfer power. But for the time being, this travesty occurred on my watch. I would be remiss if I were to simply hand you a crisis which you do not deserve.”
Kylean bowed his head, but it was obvious to Alice that underneath his calm exterior, he still seethed. “Of course.”
“Girl,” said Areanius, now turning to Alice again, “you wear the colors of Tyminia. Tell me, what happened here?”
“I don’t know,” said Alice. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“How?”
Alice touched the datalogger. “I’m running scans on the fountain. It’ll tell me what caused the explosion. That might help you determine who set it off.”
Areanius and Kylean moved closer. “I’ve seen that sort of technology before,” said Kylean thoughtfully. “You’re an off-worlder, are you not?”
Alice nodded, and Areanius chuckled. “Then of course you would wear Tyminian colors - you see, Kylean? We are still Tyminia to others. You haven’t won yet.”
“Give it time, Areanius,” said Kylean grimly. “I have waited more than half my life for this. I can wait another hour or two.”
“Think this culprit will be so quickly caught?” asked Areanius, and Kylean might have replied had the datalogger not started beeping. “What does it say?”
Alice crouched down to read the screen. “Carbon level 87.6 detected,” she read aloud, and quickly saved the results. “Carbon levels that high indicate that it wasn’t a chance explosion, with something just strapped down and set off from afar. Whoever blew up the statue of Itrehan must have fired directly at it, destroyed it deliberately. It wasn’t an accident.”
“The statue was destroyed moments after the last scarf called for Huftzar,” said Kylean. “That would point to the Tyminians as the culprits.”
“Ridiculous!” sputtered Araenius. “We abide by the Treaty of Itrehan, and would have no cause to disrupt the plan!”
“And yet here you stand, telling me you will not transfer power,” said Kylean. “Typical Tyminian response, bluster and noise while logic is set aside.”
“Humble Huftzanan response,” countered Araenius, “unable to see that the plot itself might be of their own doing. Isn’t it a little obvious, Kylean, that the statue would have been marked for destruction by Tyminian hands, only moments after Huftzar reigns? This smells like a plot to me, and Huftzanans are well-known for their schemes.”
“How dare you suggest-!”
“How dare you suggest-!”
Kylean pointed a long, thin finger at Araenius. “If you do not hand over the reins of power-!”
“Never!” declaried Araenius. “How dare you accuse Tyminia of such monstrosities?”
“You will rue the day, Araenius!” thundered Kylean.
“Not before you do so first!” roared Araenius.
And both leaders turned on their heels and marched out of the courtyard, their retinues following close behind, with worried glances over their shoulders.
“Oh, dear,” said Alice, and felt Midovian’s hand squeeze her own. “I think I just started a war.”
Chapter Fourteen
Author: azriona
Characters: The Doctor, River Song
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Big ones for Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead. Takes place prior to Water of Mars; if you haven’t seen it, you won’t be spoiled.
Betas: runriggers
Summary: The Doctor never expects to meet anyone in a linear fashion. How he meets River Song is slightly more non-lineal than most.
A/N: Thank you guys for your patience - I'll try to keep up regular Wednesday postings from here on out!
Chapters One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Running up the stairs from the center of the stadium to the city itself was tiring, but at least it didn’t make Alice dizzy. The air was filled with smoke and dust, and Tyminians to the left and right were wailing and shouting, but otherwise no one blocked their way, or tried to hold them back. River ran just in front of Alice, with the Doctor somewhere behind. As soon as they crested the stadium and were on the street, the Doctor quickly overtook them both, and led the way back to the city center, where the smoke was the thickest.
But even through the smoke, Alice could see what was wrong, as soon as they entered the familiar square. The fountain which had been filled with flowers was now filled with the rubble remains of the statue of Itrehan. All that remained of the fantastic two-faced demi-god was the foot clad in a sandal, the jagged edge breaking off somewhere above the ankle.
“Oh, not good,” groaned the Doctor, skidding to a halt. River pulled her notebook from her bag again.
“Fascinating,” she said, beginning to take notes. “The statue I saw a hundred years from now must be a recreation - I should have done a sketch of the one just destroyed, I thought something was off.”
“You knew this was going to happen?” snapped the Doctor.
“The histories aren’t exactly accurate,” said River, still writing. “I’ve been watching the entire history of Tyminia and Huftzar since the very beginning, trying to compile a comprehensive overview of the political structure. Should have known you’d be involved at some point, either the beginning or the end. You weren’t at the beginning, hence.” River smiled brilliantly at him. It didn’t help.
“I’m just sightseeing, I’m hardly involved.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” River scolded him, and tapped her chin with the butt of her pen. “What do you think, Alice, carbonite resonator, or just your basic gunpowder and charge?”
“Just because things tend to explode when I’m around...!”
“The destruction is too centralized on the statue for it to be a gunpowder charge,” mused River. “But carbonite resonators aren’t exactly common, are they? And the timing of the explosion was too perfect, right at the climax of the ceremony like that! Whoever set it off had to have been in the stadium with us, or they’d have never been able to time it so well.”
“Who’d want to blow up the statue of Itrehan anyway?” asked Alice. ‘Wasn’t he supposed to be the founder of Tyminia?”
“And Huftzar,” said the Doctor, his focus back on the fountain. “Both groups revere him. Wouldn’t make sense for either one to want to bring him down. Great galactic mystery, Itrehan - not how he managed to bring two warring peoples together, but why after several thousand years, it ground to a halt - no.” He spun around, mouth agape at River. “No! Don’t tell me that’s why-”
“Caught on finally, didn’t you?” said River smugly. “One of the best mysteries of the galaxy, and you think I’d willingly give it a miss?”
“The last time I saw you was in 19th century Paris,” said the Doctor, walking toward her now. “And this is three thousand years past that. And still a thousand years off when I left you before that.”
“Oh, I’ve seen you more recently than that,” said River brightly. “Oops, spoilers.”
“How did you get here?”
“More spoilers, I’m afraid,” said River, but she was distracted by something in her bag. “Alice, be a love - can you take a reading of the carbon residue on the stonework?” She pulled a small, flat object out of her bag and handed it over. “The button’s just there, on the side.”
Alice took the palm-sized device and flipped open the cover. It sprang to life, words and charts instantly flooding the small screen, showing measurements of Alice’s temperature, carbon make-up, DNA, and the remnants of the jam from her burnt toast that morning.
“Oh, wicked!”
“Clever, isn’t it?” said River with a cheeky grin. “Not a sonic screwdriver, of course, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
Alice went to the fountain and brushed some of the loose stone from the now-scarred edge. She rested the device on the stonework, and watched as the numbers began to fly by. They moved quickly, but following River’s advice, she found that the side button worked to slow down the read-out to a readable speed. Somewhere behind her, the Doctor and River still argued, and Alice half listened as she looked for the carbon read-out.
“Haven’t I given you one yet?” asked the Doctor, an odd note in his voice.
“You always say you will, but alas,” said River, again digging in her bag. “Who’d want that scrap of metal, anyway?”
“Oi! That scrap of metal saved your life in Paris.”
The carbon read-out popped up, and Alice clicked the “save” function before moving to a different part of the fountain, where the scarring was much thicker. It also took her a bit further from the arguing couple, something of a down side, but Alice herself was curious. How did Itrehan explode, exactly? And why? And more importantly, who had done it?
“I remember Paris quite differently.”
“Should have taken better notes,” challenged the Doctor.
The recorder was flashing “Not Enough Contact”; Alice scooted further behind the fountain, hoping for a more stable surface.
“Should have checked your control panel,” replied River sweetly. “You’re lucky you weren’t wearing your blue suit today.”
“Only had enough charge to do Alice’s outfit, not mine. You look well enough.”
Alice realized that the Doctor and River were now despairingly out-of-view; she craned her head, desperate to see River’s reaction to the compliment.
“I - ah - thank you.”
“Yellow makes most people look sallow. You’d think yellow and sallow would rhyme, wouldn’t you? They don’t. I wouldn’t recommend trying them in a poem together, it won’t work properly and then you’ll find yourself tied to a stake and no marshmallows.”
“Are you trying to back out of a compliment? Because you’re doing a terrible job of it.”
“What compliment?”
“The one you just gave me.”
The light touch on Alice’s arm nearly made her jump out of her skin. The young man from before the ceremony, who had offered her flowers - Midovian, that was his name - crouched next to her, his finger over his lips in the intergalactic sign for hush. Alice squeezed her lips together - the intergalactic sign for I won’t make a peep. He smiled, a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he brushed his hand against the cotton of Alice’s dress, still a deep shade of burgundy, and gave her a questioning look.
Alice shook her head, not understanding his concern, until she looked at him again. Whereas before, Midovian had worn burgundy - he had obviously found time to change, and his doublet was now a deep purple with silver embroidery. He brushed against Alice’s sleeve again, but the noise from the courtyard soon had them both crouching further behind the fountain.
It was without any doubt some kind of police regiment who converged upon the courtyard - but it was a very strange sort of regiment. They all wore uniforms with shiny buttons going down the front of the coat, and all were equipped with brimmed caps, belts, and a long sort of rifle. But fully half of the regiment was dressed in a bright red, with brass-colored buttons and rifles, while the other half wore bright blue, with silver-colored buttons and rifles. The effect of the two regiments, racing in from all directions, was very much like watching a cartoon rendered in garish colors. The officers circled the courtyard. The Doctor, out of habit, tried to shield River behind him, but she elbowed him hard in the ribs and stepped in front of him.
“State your purpose!” shouted one of the officers in blue, his eyes darting back and forth between the Doctor, River, and the red-dressed officers.
“Excuse me!” snapped one of the red officers. “I’m very terribly sorry, but I believe I’m still in charge.”
The officer in blue straightened and dropped his weapon. “You are not,” he whined. “It was blue, it’s our turn!”
“The ceremony didn’t end, you nit,” snapped the officer in red. “There was no actual exchange. You’re out of uniform and you’re impersonating an officer to boot.”
“You said very clearly that if Huftzar regained power, you’d let me be captain of the guard, and I saw Huftzar gain power-”
“You saw a blue bandana brandished about,” replied the red officer. “Go sit it in the corner and sulk, why don’t you.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor. “If you don’t mind...?”
“Oh, right, sorry,” said the red officer, and turned his rifle onto the Doctor’s nose. “State your purpose!”
The Doctor carefully pushed the rifle out of his face. “Simply here to determine who blew up the statue of Itrehan.”
“Did you see anyone do it?” piped up the blue officer, before the red officer threw him an angry glare.
“I’m in charge of this prisoner, thanks!”
“Prisoner?” yelped the Doctor.
“Why are we prisoners?” asked River.
“I’ll ask the questions!” shouted the red officer.
“You aren’t asking the right ones by half!” sang the blue officer from his seat near the Tyminian beer stand, from where he had somehow acquired a tankard of Tyminian beer, and had clearly downed a quarter of it already.
“As I recall, I haven’t asked any,” replied the red officer somewhat testily.
“You asked them to state their purpose.”
“That wasn’t a question, it was an order.”
“Well, you didn’t even do that properly, I don’t think you got an answer.”
The red officer swung his rifle back to the Doctor, and didn’t say a word. The Doctor, once again, carefully eased the rifle out of his face.
“I’m the Doctor, and this is River Song...”
“Hello,” said River cheerfully.
“We’re simply here to observe.”
“Most of the time,” agreed River.
“Yes, thank you, please stop helping,” said the Doctor.
The red officer glanced from one to the other. “The lady is with you?”
“Yes,” said River, while the Doctor said, “No.”
“Well, that is,” stammered the Doctor, while River turned to him and exclaimed, “What do you mean, no?!?”
“Just because I’m not with you now,” began River, while the Doctor rubbed his eyes and groaned, “It’s really very complicated.”
“If I’m in the middle of a marital spat,” said the red officer.
“We’re not married!” said the Doctor.
River didn’t say a word.
“Oh, go on,” scoffed the blue officer.
“We’re not married,” repeated the Doctor. “River. Tell the man we’re not married.”
River turned to the red officer. “Just out of curiosity, why are we being arrested?”
“River!” yelped the Doctor.
“The desecration of the statue of Itrehan, of course,” replied the red officer.
“Bit daft, aren’t they?” asked the blue officer cheerfully.
“But we didn’t do it,” said River. “We were in the stadium the entire time.”
“Then how is it you were here when we arrived?” asked the red officer.
“There’s the right question,” said the blue officer, rather pleased. “I’ll just put them under arrest then, shall I?”
“Not bloody likely,” said the red officer. “Seeing as I’m in charge.”
“Oh, come off it!” howled the blue officer. “You saw the scarves same as I - I’m in charge now. I ought to be arresting you.”
“I’ll put you under arrest for impersonating an officer! March, all of you!” The red officer poked the Doctor’s chest with the end of his rifle, and the Doctor jumped back, his face a perfect image of exasperated annoyance. “Hop on then, we can settle this at the station.”
Alice made a motion as if to stand - only two things stopped her. The Doctor gave her a quick glance, accompanied by a lightning-fast shake of the head. He wanted her to stay hidden, out of sight - free.
The second was Midovian next to her, his breathing steady and calm, and his warm hand on her arm.
As soon as the officers, still bickering, had left the courtyard with their prisoners in tow - the Doctor yelping all the way - Alice slumped to the ground and faced Midovian. “They didn’t do it.”
“I believe you,” said Midovian quietly. “Your dress-”
Alice glanced down at the still-burgundy clothes. “What about it?”
“I thought - perhaps I was mistaken. I thought you were Huftzar.”
There was a scramble from the courtyard again; footsteps pounding on the stonework, and voices raised in a shout. “Midovian - Midovian!”
Midovian stood quickly. “Here - just here.”
“I saw the guards, and thought-"
Midovian shook his head. “They didn’t see me.”
The other voice sounded at once relieved and worried. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” replied Midovian, and he reached down to Alice and took her hand, pulling her up beside him.
There were perhaps half a dozen people standing on the other side of the fountain. They were dressed in an odd mix of colors - reds and golds on some, and blues and purples on others. Among them, much to Alice’s surprise, were the two participants in the Ceremony - the young man still in his orange doublet, and the woman dressed in the Grecian blue robes, standing very near an old man dressed in bright blue robes, a bit like a druid, with a silver sash across his breast. It was the old man who stepped forward, with a hard look in his eye as he surveyed Alice up and down.
“A Tyminian wench, Midovian? Really.”
“Wench!?!” cried Alice, and Midovian squeezed her hand.
“She has not had time or opportunity to change, sir,” replied Midovian. “As I’ve no doubt some of you can accede.”
The man sniffed. “And you found her here?”
“Knocked unconscious by the blow,” lied Midovian. “I met her beforehand, sir, she placed a purple blossom in the fountain; you have no need to concern yourself about her loyalties.”
“Midovian,” hissed Alice, but he squeezed her hand again.
One of the men in red and orange stripes spoke up. Alice recognized him as the little man from the arena who had made the original proclamation. “Her loyalties should be with Tyminia,” he said sternly. “As should all of yours.”
“Huftzar won the challenge, Areanius,” replied the man in blue. “You’re no longer Regent, and this is no longer your planet.”
“There was no official transfer of power,” replied Areanius. “No official change of colors. It’s as much my planet now as it was this morning, Kylean. Your dress - and the boy’s - are treasonable offenses.”
“Areanius-” protested Kylean.
Areanius held up his hand. “You will not be arrested for treason. I understand that all is confused, and once the people have settled, I do intend to transfer power. But for the time being, this travesty occurred on my watch. I would be remiss if I were to simply hand you a crisis which you do not deserve.”
Kylean bowed his head, but it was obvious to Alice that underneath his calm exterior, he still seethed. “Of course.”
“Girl,” said Areanius, now turning to Alice again, “you wear the colors of Tyminia. Tell me, what happened here?”
“I don’t know,” said Alice. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“How?”
Alice touched the datalogger. “I’m running scans on the fountain. It’ll tell me what caused the explosion. That might help you determine who set it off.”
Areanius and Kylean moved closer. “I’ve seen that sort of technology before,” said Kylean thoughtfully. “You’re an off-worlder, are you not?”
Alice nodded, and Areanius chuckled. “Then of course you would wear Tyminian colors - you see, Kylean? We are still Tyminia to others. You haven’t won yet.”
“Give it time, Areanius,” said Kylean grimly. “I have waited more than half my life for this. I can wait another hour or two.”
“Think this culprit will be so quickly caught?” asked Areanius, and Kylean might have replied had the datalogger not started beeping. “What does it say?”
Alice crouched down to read the screen. “Carbon level 87.6 detected,” she read aloud, and quickly saved the results. “Carbon levels that high indicate that it wasn’t a chance explosion, with something just strapped down and set off from afar. Whoever blew up the statue of Itrehan must have fired directly at it, destroyed it deliberately. It wasn’t an accident.”
“The statue was destroyed moments after the last scarf called for Huftzar,” said Kylean. “That would point to the Tyminians as the culprits.”
“Ridiculous!” sputtered Araenius. “We abide by the Treaty of Itrehan, and would have no cause to disrupt the plan!”
“And yet here you stand, telling me you will not transfer power,” said Kylean. “Typical Tyminian response, bluster and noise while logic is set aside.”
“Humble Huftzanan response,” countered Araenius, “unable to see that the plot itself might be of their own doing. Isn’t it a little obvious, Kylean, that the statue would have been marked for destruction by Tyminian hands, only moments after Huftzar reigns? This smells like a plot to me, and Huftzanans are well-known for their schemes.”
“How dare you suggest-!”
“How dare you suggest-!”
Kylean pointed a long, thin finger at Araenius. “If you do not hand over the reins of power-!”
“Never!” declaried Araenius. “How dare you accuse Tyminia of such monstrosities?”
“You will rue the day, Araenius!” thundered Kylean.
“Not before you do so first!” roared Araenius.
And both leaders turned on their heels and marched out of the courtyard, their retinues following close behind, with worried glances over their shoulders.
“Oh, dear,” said Alice, and felt Midovian’s hand squeeze her own. “I think I just started a war.”
Chapter Fourteen