The Pristine Warriors -- Part 1
Chapter 1
This is not right, she thinks. It can't work! What is wrong with me? She shakes her head and smiles thinking, I can't believe I'm doing this. "This is silly," she mutters aloud and then steps off the fifteenth story ledge.
The crowd below gives out a collective gasp.
A half hour later every news team in the city is at the scene and Sarah Jane Smith is among them. "So what's happened, Herbie?"
Herbert "the Eye" Lyons is hoisting his BBC 2 video cam onto his right shoulder. "Don't know luv, 'cept someone took a leap from the Styers building."
"Oh no! Not another!"
"Yeah. It's times like this I wish I was a cabby like me Paps."
Sarah winced. "Leave the cockney, Herbie, and speak proper English."
"Sorry Sarah Jane. Just wanted to lighten things up a bit before we have to - you know - go over there and..."
"Yes! I know!" Sarah snapped. Then she smiled. "Actually, you don't do a very good job of it - the cockney I mean."
"Thanks!" Herbert feigned a look of hurt. "Shall we?"
Sarah gave a reluctant nod. She liked being a reporter but sometimes, like now, it wasn't easy.
Herbert pushed the microphone toward Sarah. "Let's do a quick check shall we?"
Sarah took the mike and, holding it up to just below her chin, droned, "Hello. Hello. Hello. This is Sarah Jane Smith. How d'ya do?"
"That's got it luv. Let's do it!"
They moved toward the police line, weaving their way through gawkers, reporters, police and fire department personnel and equipment. As they neared the yellow tape Sarah spied Bob Jamison of CNN interviewing a short, well dressed, balding man. Sarah caught Herbert's eye and nodded towards Jamison and they began moving in that direction.
"And would you mind repeating? What happened after the woman stepped from the ledge?" asked Jamison.
"Well, she began falling of course. But she didn't flap about screaming or any thing - like you'd expect she'd do. She just fell feet first, hands at her side and as calm as you please."
"Are we getting this Herbie?"
"Right-o!"
"And then what happened?" asked Bob Jamison and Sarah Jane Smith in unison.
"Sorry. I'm Sarah Jane Smith - BBC2 News." Jamison shot her a look of more than annoyance.
"Everybody, well least wise most everybody, believed she was going to crumple up like an accordion. Feet thrust up to her ears. But - I mean no one was prepared - prepared for what happened. What we saw happen." Sarah notice perspiration beginning to bead up on the balding man's brow.
"And what was that?" urged Jamison.
As if you didn't know, Sarah thought. Just like the previous three to leap from that same ledge a month ago. There was nothing left of them. They were shoveled up like some animal hit by a lorry. Why not ask the hard questions like why have four people leapt to their deaths from the fifteenth floor of the Styers? And all within a month of each other.
"She..." The balding man seemed frightened. "She simply..." He swallowed hard. "She simply disappeared!"
Herbert let his video cam drop to a wonderful shot of the balding man's oxfords and joined Sarah in a wide mouthed gape.
Chapter 2
"You're awfully quiet."
Herbert stopped loading the equipment into the van. "What do you make of it, luv?"
Sarah Jane Smith bit her lower lip. "I don't know. I mean, we've talked to what - a half dozen or so eye witnesses? And all with the same story. To some degree of difference to be sure. That's to be expected."
"Yes," agreed Herbert. "But all equally sure of the same thing - the woman disappeared just a few meters before splattering on the pavement." He continued to load the rest of the equipment. "Mass hallucination."
"You can't be serious!"
"Of course I can." Herbert closed the van door and turned to Sarah with a wink and a smile. "Isn't that how they explain away all those lights people see in the sky?" His expression turned serious. "So what do you make of it, Sarah Jane?"
"I don't know Herbie. And I've seen some things over the last few years you wouldn't believe. Not in a million years."
"Oh yes. Your little trips." Herbert smirked.
Sarah smiled. "Yes. And now that you've mentioned it, I think I know just the person who might be able to shed some light on this."
"I say, Doctor. I need to... "
"Quiet please, Brigadier! I'm near the end of this experiment and I require full concentration for the next few moments."
"Oh, really," Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart muttered.
The white haired man, with his back to the Brigadier, began pouring a beaker of light blue liquid into another beaker of some bubbling red liquid. This strange dandy of a man had been scientific advisor for the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce or UNIT, as the men had coined it, for nearly five years off and on. During that time the Brigadier had come to think of the man, known only as "The Doctor," as his friend. Perhaps even his best friend. And yet he was and always would be, in many ways, a stranger.
The red liquid began to change color leaning toward a dark magenta. As the magenta began to lighten the bubbling became less pronounced until it finally ceased altogether.
"Yes. Yes, that seems to have gotten it all right. Quite so." The Doctor picked up the finished product and turned to the Brigadier. "Of course, it must pass the final test," and the Doctor lifted the beaker to his lips and began to drink.
"Good heavens man!" cried the Brigadier as he moved to stop the Doctor. "What are you trying to do?"
But the Brigadier had been too slow and the Doctor had finished taking a huge draft of the liquid before the Brigadier could grab his wrist. "Ah! Delicious! The best Vulcurian brandy I've had in years." The Doctor put his right index finger to the side of his nose, "The only Vulcurian brandy I've had in years come to think of it."
"Good lord!" exasperated the Brigadier. "You stand there in your frilly shirt and velvet jacket, sipping some exotic concoction like some Edwardian dandy! While the fate of the world could hang in the balance..."
"What!" The Doctor returned the beaker to the work bench. "My dear fellow! What sort of mess have we before us this time?"
"Well... actually... nothing that earth shattering. But it could have been was my point."
"And well taken, Brigadier. Now what is it you need to see me about?"
"It's rather a difficult subject to approach. You can be a difficult man to deal with at times Doctor."
The Doctor approached the Brigadier. He had to look up slightly to make eye contact with the man; a good three inches taller than the Doctor. Brigadier Alister Lethbridge-Stewart, still solidly built, square shouldered and straight backed. Of course, he'd only been a colonel when they had first met. That was six years ago by the Brigadier's calendar. The Doctor genuinely liked the man even though at times the Brigadier's military mind tried his patience.
"My dear Brigadier. I'm nothing of the sort." The Doctor smiled. "Now what is it you want?"
"Yes. Well it's not what I want so much as what Her Majesty wants."
"The Queen? What on earth could she possibly want with me?"
"Well it's your own fault Doctor. You're the one who popped in on us all." The Brigadier clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels. "Or that is - at least one of you's fault."
The Doctor laughed. "Oh it was me Brigadier and it wasn't. I can see you still haven't quiet grasped the concept of regeneration. It really isn't that diff..."
"Blast it Doctor!" The Doctor Looked stunned and the Brigadier pressed his advantage. "You can't dismiss Her Majesty like you do me and everyone else in authority around here! She wants to meet you! To honor you for that Yeti thing. I knew you'd..."
"My dear chap! I accept!"
Now it was Lethbridge-Stewart's turn to be stunned. "You accept?"
"Of course! One mustn't ignore Her Majesty mustn't one? Now just tell me the arrangements and I'll be there with bells on."
"The arrangements? Yes. Well they've still to be worked out." The Brigadier smiled. "I must say Doctor, you are as unpredictable as ever."
"Thank you. I take that as a compliment." The Doctor returned to his work bench. "Care for a sip of Vulcurian brandy?"
"No thank you Doctor I..."
"Oh! I'm sorry." The two men turned their attention to the doorway and saw the head of an attractive dark haired young woman peering around the door at them. "I'll come back later if you're busy."
"Nonsense," assured the Doctor as he ushered her in. "The Brigadier was just leaving."
Sarah smiled and stepped into the laboratory. "If I'm not intruding then?"
"No Miss Smith." The Brigadier looked the Doctor up and down. "I've got what I came for." He paused and then nodded. "Doctor." Then turning to Sarah Jane, "Good to see you again Miss Smith." Then both Sarah and the Doctor watched the Brigadier turn on his heels and march out into the corridor.
"So what was that all about?" asked Sarah.
"Oh, nothing important." The Doctor smiled. "So what brings you by this morning Sarah Jane? I haven't seen you much since you started your new job at the Beeb."
Sarah hung her head and then looked up at the Doctor. "Yes. I know. I'm really sorry about that Doctor." She bit her lower lip. "But I've got something to tell you that you might find interesting. Something rather - um - strange."
"Really? Well I am a bit bored of late. Tea?"
"I could murder a cup!" she smiled.
"Good. You sit down and I'll brew us up a cuppa. Then you can tell me all about it."
"So you see Doctor, its quite the mystery. All the eye witnesses agree. Of course, I suppose they could all be..."
"Suffering from mass hysteria? Mass hallucinations?" The Doctor reached for the tea kettle. "Another cup?"
"Please. So you don't think they're making it up?"
"My dear Sarah Jane. Why is it that every time something unusual happens, which can't be explained straight away by earthly science, the skeptics insist the witnesses are deluded or lying?" And the Doctor added contemptuously, "Its a wonder your species ever came down from the trees!"
Sarah looked hurt. "I never said I believed the witnesses were deluded."
The Doctor put his hand gently on Sarah's shoulder. "Of course you didn't. I'm sorry."
"But you must admit, Doctor. Seeing someone disappear before one's eyes is not one's normal every day occurrence."
"Yes. You're right." The Doctor rubbed his chin. A habit of his Sarah had found rather charming over the years. It meant he was thinking seriously. It meant he really did believe her. He smiled. "At least not at this time or on this planet."
"So you'll look into it?"
"Yes. I have a few loose ends to tie up here today. But we'll give it a go first thing in the morning."
"Good. I'll be by around eight o'clock." She held out her cup. "My second cup please?"
"Oh! Sorry!" The Doctor smiled and poured the tea.
Chapter 3
Xanorok gazed absently out the observation bubble. The forest below flew past the hover craft as it skimmed the tree tops. Far off to the east he could see field workers harvesting the autumn grain. The day seemed perfect as the morning sun turned the normally green leaves into a golden yellow. The blue sky was clear save only for an occasional vagabond cloud - white and puffy - sailing westward towards some distant shore. Yet Xanorok knew what the workers in the field, the merchants at the market place, and most every other Zulian did not know. The day was not perfect.
Xanorok glanced down at the console. He punched up the data for the ten thousandth time and for the ten thousandth time the results stared unwaveringly back at him. It is true he thought. No matter how many times he looked for the flaw - a subtle miscalculation - he never found it. "And I never will find it!" He allowed his thoughts to escape. The realization was still hard to swallow even after all these years. Our course is set. The data does not lie.
The data, that had been gathered so many years before, had been analyzed and reanalyzed by many prominent Zulian minds. This had been done long before he had ever laid eyes upon it, let alone had analyzed it himself. He had been sure that the others had been - were - wrong. He had calculated and recalculated and recalculated again. But the data had always remained as it was this day; stubbornly steadfast and undeniably irrefutable. It never gave in. It never lied. The planet Zul was doomed and every Zulian with it.
The data showed that the perfect sun was not so perfect. And one day soon - very soon - it would be more than imperfect. It would become lethal. They had about fifty years. The great scientists of Zul could almost predict the exact day - give or take a few days.
The way it would happen was so simple. One day would be the last perfect day. The next would find the sun a little larger, a little redder, and a little warmer. Not long after that the giant red star would reach out for Zul and burn it to a cinder. Of course all the Zulians would have died long before that fateful day - as would have all life on the planet. The incineration of Zul would only be a funeral pyre.
But there was a chance - a breath of hope - and he meant to take it. For the sake of Zul he would take chance by the throat and force it to give him what he wanted.
"Admiral?" The voice over the communicator broke Xanorok's reverie.
"Yes Ronak."
"Ten minutes sir."
"Thank Your Ronak." Xanorok acknowledged. "Now refresh my mind, please. Who will be attending this morning?"
Ronak hesitated. Had he detected the sound of uncertainty in his commander's voice? Such had been rarely the case during his tenure as Admiral Xanorok's aide. And how long had that been? Eight years! Had it really been that long?
"Ronak?"
"I am sorry sir." Ronak fumble for the communiqué. "The Prime Leader will be there, of course. And Lead Science Advisor Janath of course."
"But of course!" came Xanorok's flippant reply.
"Yes sir." Ronak smiled knowingly. The Admiral had never gotten on with the LSA from there first meeting. He had once confided to Ronak, "She is the harbinger of death for the people of Zul! Mark my words, Ronak! She is the mill stone around our collective necks!"
Ronak's antennae tingled. "Go on Ronak." Xanorok was using direct communications. "Who else?"
Ronak used the communicator. "The rest are the usual assortment of lackeys and deceivers sir."
"Hmmmm." Admiral Xanorok had returned to the communicator. "If we ever see our way through this crisis, Ronak. It will be no thanks to the Zulian government." Xanorok chuckled, then added, "Thank you Ronak. Your steadiness, especially during these times, is thoroughly appreciated."
"Thank you sir." Ronak smiled to himself. He really liked the old man. And it was always nice to know that he was appreciated.
Ronak knew the Admiral was right. The Zulian government was doing very little to aide them in their mission. The Prime Leader had insisted that Zulian laws not be broken. Even at the interest of their mission. The Admiral had said "I feel as though they've hobbled all four of my legs." And again Ronak felt the Admiral was right. Like Admiral Xanorok, Ronak saw no light at the end of the tunnel. He too feared their mission was as doomed as Zul itself.
to be continued....
© 1996 by Brigitte Darcel, all rights reserved
Brigitte Darcel makes a living as a
software engineer and writes strictly as
a hobby. She is currently working
on what she hopes will become a
narrow based novel with the BBC
Sci-Fi hero from the TV series Doctor
Who as the central character. The
Free Zone is presenting this novel as it
evolves. Here is Part 1 -- we hope to
present Part 2 in the next posting.
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