Doctor Who: Virgin Missing Adventures [003] - Venusian Lullaby by Paul Leonard

Author:Paul Leonard
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426204244
Publisher: Virgin
Published: 1994-11-13T23:00:00+00:00

last leg into the belly of your sleep, of your

endless, endless, sleep.’

Jellenhut was singing the lullaby to her children for the last time.

Ruribeg watched as Bismar Mrodtikdhil of the clan Esinallihall, Commander of the Volcano People, looked three-eyed at the picture taken by the mossocular, and wondered what his clan-uncle was thinking.

The old clansman didn’t say anything, which constrained Ruribeg to be silent. Occasionally Ruribeg heard him scribble something on a writing-pad on the other side of his body, out of sight.

Ruribeg waited, one eye on the Commander, the other four wandering around the dihilribi mosses on the walls of the stone room, the golden flames of the brakud-oil lamps hanging from the ceiling, the pattern of lava flows carved into the polished wooden legs of the Commander’s five-sided desk.

‘And the entire Night Council of Bikugih went up in this –’ he pointed at the streak on the mossoculograph ‘– this “light craft”?’

‘They did,’ said Ruribeg, adding, ‘according to the public heliogram.’ He paused, wondered if his clan-uncle considered that he should have gone to the rollerport and checked it for himself.

‘And what exactly did the aliens say?’

Ruribeg repeated it, word for word, from his notes. He felt an obscure pride that he had managed to take any notes in such a sudden and confusing situation; though at the time it had never occurred to him to do anything else.

When he had finished reading, the Commander thought for a while in silence, his eyes in the kirhi position. Finally he said, ‘The intervention of these aliens may be of great benefit to the Volcano People. They may even enable us to realize our plans at last. But we need to be sure.’

The Commander was silent again for a while, but this time four of his eyes were staring directly at Ruribeg. Discomfited, Ruribeg shifted from hoof to hoof, trying not to commit the impropriety of hiding his eyes.

‘Gantohi Ruribeg,’ said the Commander at last. ‘There is something you need to know. But it is of the highest confidentiality.’

Ruribeg swallowed, then gaped in formal acceptance of the burden of secrecy.

‘We possess a means of looking into the future.’

Ruribeg stared. ‘But I thought –’

‘– that the Art died with Cracdhalltar? No. Not quite. There is one clansman left who knows the Art of huyaot. His name is Afhighid Kontojij. He has been invaluable to us; his advice has often prevented the interference of the city-dwellers in our plans.’

‘I think you should visit him immediately.’

The Doctor gazed at the marble building with its low, silver dome, took a deep breath of the jetheru-scented air, and wondered if he ought to have accepted Pown(ow)ri’s offer of death. The silly, growling creature had looked so disappointed when he’d said no. He stretched out his hands in front of him, looked at the deep wrinkles, the knobby irregularities of the knuckles, and thought about pain. He looked up at the mereon again, wished that he hadn’t seen its like before, a hundred hundred times, somewhere else, somewhen else, wished that it still had the power to move him.

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