became obvious, Azmael would be forced to do something. After all, to die from another planet crashing into your own is as permanent as dying from starvation.
At least, that's how they reasoned.
On the other hand, Mestor was something else. The twins wondered how much he cared about anything. If things started to go wrong, he might insist that they continue irrespective of the consequence. As he had the power to back his insistence, they could all finish up dead and with the Jacondan corner of the universe in chaos.
The twins decided they would have to play the situation by ear.
Trying to make too many plans was foolish. But first they would have to gain the confidence of Azmael.
'All right...' they said as one voice. 'We'll cooperate.'
Azmael smiled. 'Your decision pleases me. Thank you.'
Then in spite of their good intentions (or was it a subconscious reaction to make their sudden conversion credible?) Romulus muttered, 'We still think you're mad.'
'Quite mad ...' Remus chipped in.
'Neurotic, psychotic ...'
'And despotic.'
Azmael nodded. 'You could be right. We'll just have to wait and see.'
What was referred to as Azmael's palace was, in fact, a massive citadel. It was said that parts of it were over two thousand years old, but such had been its piecemeal development that any architectual or historical value it may have once had had long since been lost. Instead, its collected buildings gracelessly sprawled down from the top of the mountain on which the original structure had been built.
Peri and Hugo were not destined to see this view of the citadel, as the Doctor had decided to materialise in one of its maze of forgotten corridors.
As the trio stepped from the TARDIS into a dingy, dank corridor, Peri heard herself saying indignantly, 'This is the seediest stately home I've ever seen.'
'You didn't expect me to materialise in the throne room?' was the sharp retort.
Peri didn't answer. Nowadays she didn't know what to expect from the Doctor. Although he seemed to have stabilised since his earlier erratic outbursts, there was still something odd and remote about him.
As they moved off along the passageway, going they knew not where, it had occurred to Hugo that if the twins were on Jaconda, he could still fulfill his mission and rescue them, thereby also saving his own career.
The more he thought about it, the more the idea excited him. He had always dreamed of being declared a hero, ever since he had joined starfighter command. His natural good looks, easy charm and ability to look good in a uniform made him, so Hugo thought, a perfect choice.
As a hero he would be able to give up flying -something that still frightened him - possibly enter politics, or specialise in appearing on the numerous chat shows that dominated the public viddy channels. The money was good, the adoration overwhelming and, most of all, it was safe.
Heroes never slipped in the ratings. As they grew older, wiser and better informed, they would transfer to the debate programmes, of which there were even more than chat shows. If Hugo proved really successful, he might even be granted the ultimate accolade, that of becoming the chairman of his very own show!
Carried away on the wings of his own fantasy, Hugo had overlooked one thing: he still had to find the twins. There was also the Doctor and Peri to consider, but Hugo had decided to dump them at the first opportunity. He didn't want to risk anyone eclipsing his success. Neither did he need the Doctor to pilot the TARDIS. Careful study of it in flight had convinced Hugo that he was capable of handling the ship alone.
As the group continued to move cautiously along the passage, Peri whispered. 'Are you sure we're going the right way?'
The Doctor nodded. 'Azmael gave me a conducted tour the last time I was here. This passage leads to his laboratory.'
As he spoke, the group became aware of a strong, pungent smell, very similar to the one that had pervaded the wasteland they
At least, that's how they reasoned.
On the other hand, Mestor was something else. The twins wondered how much he cared about anything. If things started to go wrong, he might insist that they continue irrespective of the consequence. As he had the power to back his insistence, they could all finish up dead and with the Jacondan corner of the universe in chaos.
The twins decided they would have to play the situation by ear.
Trying to make too many plans was foolish. But first they would have to gain the confidence of Azmael.
'All right...' they said as one voice. 'We'll cooperate.'
Azmael smiled. 'Your decision pleases me. Thank you.'
Then in spite of their good intentions (or was it a subconscious reaction to make their sudden conversion credible?) Romulus muttered, 'We still think you're mad.'
'Quite mad ...' Remus chipped in.
'Neurotic, psychotic ...'
'And despotic.'
Azmael nodded. 'You could be right. We'll just have to wait and see.'
What was referred to as Azmael's palace was, in fact, a massive citadel. It was said that parts of it were over two thousand years old, but such had been its piecemeal development that any architectual or historical value it may have once had had long since been lost. Instead, its collected buildings gracelessly sprawled down from the top of the mountain on which the original structure had been built.
Peri and Hugo were not destined to see this view of the citadel, as the Doctor had decided to materialise in one of its maze of forgotten corridors.
As the trio stepped from the TARDIS into a dingy, dank corridor, Peri heard herself saying indignantly, 'This is the seediest stately home I've ever seen.'
'You didn't expect me to materialise in the throne room?' was the sharp retort.
Peri didn't answer. Nowadays she didn't know what to expect from the Doctor. Although he seemed to have stabilised since his earlier erratic outbursts, there was still something odd and remote about him.
As they moved off along the passageway, going they knew not where, it had occurred to Hugo that if the twins were on Jaconda, he could still fulfill his mission and rescue them, thereby also saving his own career.
The more he thought about it, the more the idea excited him. He had always dreamed of being declared a hero, ever since he had joined starfighter command. His natural good looks, easy charm and ability to look good in a uniform made him, so Hugo thought, a perfect choice.
As a hero he would be able to give up flying -something that still frightened him - possibly enter politics, or specialise in appearing on the numerous chat shows that dominated the public viddy channels. The money was good, the adoration overwhelming and, most of all, it was safe.
Heroes never slipped in the ratings. As they grew older, wiser and better informed, they would transfer to the debate programmes, of which there were even more than chat shows. If Hugo proved really successful, he might even be granted the ultimate accolade, that of becoming the chairman of his very own show!
Carried away on the wings of his own fantasy, Hugo had overlooked one thing: he still had to find the twins. There was also the Doctor and Peri to consider, but Hugo had decided to dump them at the first opportunity. He didn't want to risk anyone eclipsing his success. Neither did he need the Doctor to pilot the TARDIS. Careful study of it in flight had convinced Hugo that he was capable of handling the ship alone.
As the group continued to move cautiously along the passage, Peri whispered. 'Are you sure we're going the right way?'
The Doctor nodded. 'Azmael gave me a conducted tour the last time I was here. This passage leads to his laboratory.'
As he spoke, the group became aware of a strong, pungent smell, very similar to the one that had pervaded the wasteland they
Similar Books
