Chapter 4
The trio continued through the streets until they turned down a drive towards another white and green colonnaded house, aglow with light. Two outbuildings of similar design flanked the larger house, while a dry fountain stood in the centre of the court. Dead and dying vegetation surrounded the fountain. Men in red tunics worked to stabilize one of the large columns on the house, while others slowly cleared the collapsed portico of one of the outbuildings. As they approached, several of the men put down their tools and turned to greet the new arrivals.
"A moment please." Maverrant said briefly to the Doctor and Martha before hastening to the men. As he approached, an older woman with silver hair came quickly through the open doorway, a sleepy looking little girl in her arms. Relief washed over her face when she saw Maverrant. Martha watched Maverrant greet the woman and little girl by grasping their faces in his hands and touching his forehead to theirs. He took the little girl in his arms before turning to the men and inspecting the fresh damage. Not a word was spoken.
"I can't get used to the silence." Martha said, turning to the Doctor with a frown. She wrapped her arms around herself against more than just the night chill. "It's kind of creepy."
"If you could hear it Martha, this city is far from silent. It's deafening. But it's all in here." He tapped his temple with his index finger. "The Rilophrians have been using telepathy as their primary means of communication for over a thousand years. They see verbal communication as archaic at best and offensive at worst."
"But at the hospital the children were speaking."
"They might be born with the ability but it still takes practice. Think of it like learning to read. Some learn faster, some are better at it than others. As the kids grow up they speak less and less until they just stop. A lot of Rilophrian's even forget how. Now our Councilor here," He nodded towards Maverrant who was silently conferring with the workers. "He's a strong telepath, very strong. He'd have to be to get to his position. Same with the redoubtable First Attendant Roylant."
Martha pondered her first words with the Councilor. "Okay, so let me get this straight. If he's such a strong telepath, why can't he talk in my head? Plus he seems to be fairly articulate. A bit formal maybe but he hasn't forgotten how to talk."
"Martha he probably could invade your mind anytime he wanted. Most Rilophrians could." He turned to face her, launching into full lecture mode, using his hands to gesticulate. "See the human brain, that is most human brains, aren't evolved enough-"
Martha cocked an eyebrow.
"Yet, yet!" The Doctor added quickly with a grin. "They haven't evolved enough yet to use telepathy. A strong telepath can trigger the dormant parts of your brain by brute force, you wouldn't be able to respond but you could hear them. Problem is, it would take some tinkering with your brain, which would hurt and anyway its just plain rude, not to mention a penalty under the fifth order of the Shadow Proclamation. So the Councilor would have attempted to communicate telepathically but when he couldn't connect with you properly, he would have assumed that either you were another species or… err… brain damaged." The Doctor finished sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Really. Brain damaged." Martha was unimpressed.
"Yeah. 'Fraid so. Anyway Councilor Danuel Epycul Maverrant is pretty much one of the top political dogs. He was also trained to be an interplanetary diplomat, so he needs to be able to communicate in a variety of formats. He speaks several intergalactic languages and incidentally is a champion Wotchta player."
"Wotchta?" Martha crinkled her forehead in confusion.
"Yeah, it's this game with thirteen boards and you have to run between-"
"Hang on, when did you learn all this about him?"
"When he introduced himself. Kind of like a telepathic resume."
Fortunately, before Martha could get any more confused or frustrated, Maverrant approached them. The old woman and the little girl had gone back in the house and the workers had resumed their efforts.
"The house has suffered some damage in the latest quake, but the main quarters are safe. I have asked the scientists to meet with you, they are waiting." He paused, forcing a rusty if somewhat rueful smile. "I must apologize, usually I am able to offer." He searched for the right word to describe the Doctor and Martha's position. " ….guests a much more hospitable welcome. I have asked that some sustenance be prepared, I am sure you must be hungry and thirsty."
Martha and the Doctor thanked him and followed him into the house.
...
True to his word, Maverrant had gathered scientists and a meager amount of food in a large, richly furnished boardroom with murals of the ironically rich Rilophrian countryside painted on its walls. Introductions were made verbally and telepathically but Martha quickly found herself left out of the discussion as the most of the scientists would not or could not communicate orally. Martha watched bemused as the Doctor pored over holographic maps and blueprints presented on the glowing surface of the large table. Only gestures, stares and facial expressions indicated that a serious conversation and debate was going on.
Martha busied herself going over some medical reports of the victims and familiarizing herself a bit with Rilophrian anatomy. She must have dozed off as she jumped slightly when someone gently touched her shoulder. She looked up, startled, into Maverrant's serious face. In the background, the Doctor and other scientists were crowded around yet another holograph, the Doctor poking at it with his sonic screwdriver.
"Let me show you where you can sleep Martha. I think this will continue for a long time, the Doctor is being very…thorough." He said not unkindly.
"He is that." She agreed and stood up stretching. She caught the Doctor's eye and he winked at her briefly before directing his attention back to a small female scientist gesticulating violently at the holograph.
Maverrant led her through darkened corridors and onto a large verandah overlooking a landscaped lawn and small orchard. On the lawn cots with duvets and floating canopies with hanging linen were arranged.
"We have begun to sleep outside, for fear of the buildings collapsing." Maverrant explained. As they walked, he paused by one cot, gently pulling back the hangings. In the bed the little girl Martha had seen earlier slept fitfully, whimpering slightly in her sleep. Maverrant leant down and smoothed the dark brown hair from her face before tucking the duvet a little closer around her.
"Is she your daughter?" Martha asked as he stood up again.
For the first time, the politician's carefully blank face creased with emotion as he nodded.
"Matlena. Her mother was one of the earliest to succumb. I worry…" The force of his grief rasped in his voice. Worry lines deepened on his face and he seemed much older than his years.
Hesitantly, Martha touched his arm. "The Doctor will figure this out. You asked me if he could be trusted. I've trusted him with my life and he's never let me down. He'll do everything he can. And so will I."