Chapter 3: Priests of Solace

Then they heard it. Or saw it. Or were sent it. The message drove straight into their heads fully formed. The image of what appeared to be a man with yellow-and-red eyes in a priest's cossack, with a high neck instead of a collar. The fascia around his waste was a bright red, but the rest was black and undecorated. The man had no hair: no eyebrows, no eyelashes, nothing. His mouth was small and puckered, his eyes close-set and old. His face, however, was unlined.

The image did not speak, for the message was already in their heads, but they could tell that it was this man's message.

"Hello," it went. "We are the 17th Missionary Order of the Priests of Solace. Congratulations. Your planet has been selected for conversion to Solace. This village will serve as a test. Should the conversion process go smoothly, the rest of the planet will follow. Should the process not take, this planet will, unfortunately, need to be eliminated as heretics. Do not struggle. We simply wish to reveal the light of Solace. Do not fight. We have your best interests in mind. Simply sleep, and when you wake you will be one of us."

All the words and their meanings were implanted directly into their minds in a split-second. They all looked between one another. Finally, the Doctor spoke.

"Well," he said, "religious conversion. That's nice." He held open the door of the TARDIS. "Shall we?"

Amy and Rory went in. Liz and Christopher looked at one another and then followed. The Doctor took up the rear.

Christopher had been expecting…something. But not this. The place was huge and bright, all copper and gold and brass. A central control panel seemed to be comprised of odds and assorted ends. Stairs suggested further halls.

"It's bigger on the inside…" Liz said. The Doctor jigged up to the controls in glee.

"And there's the words," he said. "Alright then, welcome to the TARDIS. Controls are here, bathroom's down there, don't touch anything unless I ask you to. That's the gist of it."

"It's amazing," Christopher said.

"I know," the Doctor smiled. "Okay, so, what do we know? The TARDIS crashed after it's shielding stayed off and it hit something, knocking us out of the Vortex. The air outside smells like roasted pork, the leaves taste worse than usual. Aliens have landed in great metal pods and have sent a message preaching conversion. They are missionaries. What does this mean?"

"It's all related, obviously," said Christopher, walking up to the controls and looking at them as he circled the panel. "The aliens did something that knocked out your shields."

"But how," asked the Doctor, "they didn't know we'd be coming."

"Perhaps it was incidental," Christopher scratched his chin. Whatever is causing the porky smell and leaves knocked out your shields?"

"Perhaps, but how," the Doctor danced to a screen. Christopher followed.

"They're a right proper pair, aren't they," Amy whispered to Rory, who chuckled. Liz was investigating the hall to their right. Amy looked at her. "Bedrooms and library and God knows what else is down there, Lizzy."

"No, I was just wondering how this works. My initial idea was that the door of the box was a sort of portal linking us to a larger location. But I figure that this actually is in the box. Perhaps a pocket dimension."

They all looked at her, stunned into silence. "No one asked what I did," she smiled. "I'm working on a theoretical physics doctorate. A ship like this is being theorized by government physicists right now."

"Stolen, more like," said the Doctor. "Anyhow, think, you can help. Assume a ship traveling through a theoretical bend in space and time. This bend exists separate to the time and space itself. The ship actually dematerializes into the bend and rematerializes out of it post travel. What could knock the ships shielding off from outside the bend while the ship was in the bend?"

"Well, what if there was a technology designed to, I don't know, create a field," Liz said. "If technology exists to travel through the Vortex, others must be aware of it."

"And if they are aware," Amy understood.

"Then the field would extend into the Vortex," the Doctor finished. "Brilliant. Yes, brilliant. Okay, so the scent of pork is the scent of the field. The taste must be…fallout? Energy. Energy from it. But what does it do?"

"Maybe it's a weapon," Rory said. "Designed to knock out any ships that might attack them while they do whatever they're doing. They might not know Earth doesn't have ships like that."

"No, not a weapon," the Doctor said. "But close. They're not here for war, but for religion. It would be…what…"

"Something to quell resistance," Christopher answered.

"Exactly," said the Doctor, "but how?"

"Sleep," said Amy, her eyes going wide. "You said that the TARDIS is constantly flickering systems in and out of sleep. And the shield stayed asleep. And the message says…"

"Simply sleep," quoted the Doctor. "Yes…yes. The field over the town isn't a weapon. It's stopping things from waking up."

They all looked at one another.

"So…what," Amy said, "if something goes to sleep…"

"It stays alive," said the Doctor, "the field doesn't kill them. They just…don't wake up."

"Why, though," Christopher asked. "Why would aliens want that?"

"I don't know," said the Doctor. "I've never heard about these priests of Solace. I've never heard of Solace."

Liz bit her lip. "We need to see those ships."

"The message has had time to gestate," the Doctor agreed. "Chances are the police are trying to keep people off the streets."

"So," Rory asked, "when has that ever stopped you?"

The Doctor grinned. "Christopher," he said, "do you have a car?"