Chapter Nine: Jui Kuen

"I'm not an old artifact!" said the Doctor as he applied his fingers to Caan's slushie and manipulated the lid into place until it clicked. "Why did you have to knock him out, anyway? What could he possibly be able to help you with unconscious?" Then he swayed and fell back into his hover-seat, cursing as breath caught in his chest- it was still too soon after the surgery to be too active, he reasoned as Mister Lobster came up behind him and stuck his neck with another hypospray of sedative.

"We are saving his life, Doctor…" said Kalmbyd, his root-fingers weaving and unweaving in what the Doctor had only learned recently was a cloii's way of chuckling. "Rest yourself; you may have insisted on coming but that doesn't mean we can't control our assets."

The Doctor smiles; his face feels darker than a night beneath Midnight's extonic sun.

"You should bring the slushie with us, Kalmbyd…" the Doctor mused, acting out the effects of the organic drug, "…otherwise, I fear for the furniture."

"I can feel you holding off the effects of my pollen, Time Lord," Kalmbyd said calmly. "Don't make this difficult, or I will dose you further. Understood?"

"Fine," the Doctor groaned, settling himself in the hover. "But do you think I could get one of those drinks? That pollen of yours is dehydrating me horribly."

The Doctor controlled his hover in a tight glide back to the drinks machine, punched in a no. four and retrieved his drink, then once more sat back in his hover for the final time.

"So, Treeboy…" he breathed, happy with himself, "what role for Caan in our little play?"

Kalmbyd snorted, and a bit of pollen came out of his chest.

"I'll explain later."