10
Sarah swore when she realized that with her footwear she was clearly at a disadvantage here. They passed tables with startled guests and waiters as they followed the direction of more clattering and shouting.
When they arrived at the source of the turmoil they found a table in complete disarray, an intense, stinging stench was hanging about the whole scene.
The guests, a young Asian couple were standing back, the man vociferously dragging a young waiter over the coals. The rest of a little mob of guests watched the scene from a distance, egging on another waiter who was with one arm protecting his face, striking with a broom handle in the other at a greyish, warty, two foot long creature that looked like a disgusting cross between a slug and a ray that wriggled between plates and glasses. Helplessly it flailed it's winglike protrusions and shot at the waiter with some secretion from it's tail, the obvious source of the stench. Another waiter came running with a bucket.
The Doctor took one moment to overlook the scene. "Stop it! Stop!" he boomed but nobody reacted. He jumped between the outraged man and his victim. "STOP IT!" he once more yelled at the him and finally, flabbergasted and intimidated because the Doctor was easily one foot taller than him, he let up on his victim.
The Doctor ignored the now silent crowd of onlookers and the waiter and cautiously inched closer. The creature tried to scuffle back and lifted it's tail end threateningly when he cautiously extended a hand to touch it but then it held still and let him stroke it's oozy skin. "Oh you poor thing," he whispered.
"Sarah, I need a wet towel or something," he told her with a frown on his face, his professional disaster manager mode kicking in where he had been all infatuated only moments ago. Sarah who had been watching the whole scene hurried off to an abandoned nearby table and soaked the table cloth in water from a crevet. Curiously she watched how under the disapproving gaze of the crowd the Doctor carefully picked up the quivering creature, wrapped it into the cloth and cradled the dripping bundle in his arms.
He picked up a bit of fish that had dropped from one of the plates, folded back the cloth a little bit and held it out. The creature extended an eye stalk then a second and then a beak that had been half hidden under some skin folds of it's head section.
"It's completely harmless. It is just hungry. Hungry and frightened and confused and now you hurt it!" he angrily hissed at murmuring crowd.
"What is this creature, Doctor," Sarah whispered.
"It's from a planet in the Shama quadrant, quite far from here. In the biology course at the academy they called them species Shama 3836/24.6. Where they come from they live in little colonies on the rocky seashore, farming mussels."
"Farming? Is it intelligent? She peeked under the cloth.
"Oh yes. Pretty much. It was out searching food for it's pregnant mate. There is a little colony of them somewhere out there that was apparently abducted to New Polynesia." She gave the bundle in the Doctor's arms a closer inspection. The creature had huddled into a lump, greenish liquid oozing from its wounds.
"How do you know that?" she asked incredulously.
"Well, the Shama communicate. Telepathically."
It took Sarah a moment to take that in and then observed the creature with new awe. "Do you think it's going to heal? And what about it's mate?" She returned her attention to the creature and extended a hand lightly touching it's skin.
"I hope so. We've got to help them before more of them get shot down or beaten to death on their desperate search for something to eat."
"Excuse me, Sir," an incredibly stiff, tall man in an elegant, colourful tunic interrupted them. "I can't tell you, how sorry I am for the inconvenience," he addressed the Doctor with a servile little bow.
"Oh, I think, the inconvenience is much more on his side than on mine." He frowned at the man, who was obviously a member of the hotel staff, and pointed at the bundle in his arms.
"Sir, let us deal with the creature."
"No, I certainly won't let you deal with it. You want to kill it. I'm not going to let that happen!" He wrapped his arm protectively around the bundle. "They are an intelligent species and SOMEBODY has brought them to this hostile place where they struggle to find anything edible at all."
"So... ah... you know more about them?" he asked, taking a baffled closer look at the Doctor and the bundle in his arms.
"Mmh. Yes. And I would really really appreciate if you stop hunting them. They are completely harmless. Unlike the wandering mould, which can give you quite a rash as you probably know."
The clerks eyes rounded when he mentioned the mould. "Yes, very well. You seem to be quite... knowledgeable about the... ah.. pests we are plagued with lately." He gave the Doctor a calculating glance and another of his stiff bows. „Would you please follow me, I think the hotel manager wants to talk to you."
"Why would I want to do that," the Doctor asked irritated.
"The pests are a case of the authorities, I'd have to call the police if you would insist on keeping it, any case has to be reported to the public health department, captured creatures are quarantined and destroyed by the authoriteis. But the manager has connections of course.." The Doctor glowered at the man, but of the two evils, the police and the manager with connections the second sounded more managable to him.
Sarah, who just for once wanted a peaceful holiday with the Doctor, not one of their usual monster runarounds gave him an exasperated 'why does it always have to end like that' look. He just shrugged back apologetically, then she had no choice than to follow the clerk and the Doctor out through the staff entrance of the restaurant. They took a little hover vehicle for the short way to another building and then a lift up. The clerk disappeared in an office, politely asking them to wait. After a few long minutes, Sarah got more and more impatient, he emerged from the office.
"Director Paldevan wants to see you. Will you please follow me."
A few corridors later they were led into an elegant office that had a spectacular view out to the nightly bay.
"Please wait a moment," the clerk excused himself. "The director will be here very soon." With another servile bow he retreated and left Sarah and the Doctor alone in the office.
Sarah took a look around, marvelling at the elegant wooden inlay work of the furniture. "Doctor, I'd rather like to be somewhere else," she complained.
The Doctor approached her from behind and assuringly laid his free hand on her shoulder. "Me too. I'm so sorry, Sarah. Really," he muttered.
She turned, nodded at him, tugging at the his wet sleeve. "How is it, ah he?"
The Doctor lifted the cloth a little bit to get a better look. "He's in pain, but I don't think the injuries are life threatening." She had been furious, she had been utterly disappointed about this disruption of their holidays, but when she watched how tenderly he cared for this injured alien she just couldn't help but smile. He had a big heart, no, hearts for anyone who needed him. She wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into him.
"We have to help them, Sarah."
"Of course we have to."
The door opened but in came not the director but a servant with some drinks, requesting them to make themselves comfortable until the director arrived. Exasperated Sarah let go of the Doctor and grabbed one of the glasses. "Can't we just get out of here and evacuate the Shama?"
"Ah, I'd prefer that too, Sarah. But we might in for more trouble if we don't play nice. Maybe the Shama too. And maybe the people here need help with the actual pests."
"Doctor, as long as it's not abducting intelligent beings or outright animal cruelty, I don't care for their pest problems. We are here for a holiday. Forgotten?" Sarah urged him.
"Erm.. Yeah. Right," the Doctor sniffed. "Holidays," he sighed, "it's a bit hard to get used to." He beamed an apologetic grin in Sarah's direction.
Moments later the door opened and in came a stout native in a heavily embroided tunic who wore his graying hair in the remarkably complex braidings typical for the upper class of this planet. He stretched out his palm in greeting.
"Doctor John and Sarah Jane Smith, welcome!" His perfectly white teeth blinked with the professionalyl jovial grin of a banker or politician. "Please, take a seat." He offered chairs with a grand gesture and vanished behind his ridiculously huge marble desk.
"I'm so very sorry, that you got involved with our little problems here."
"Well, it doesn't bother me, I'm always glad to help," the Doctor gave the man one of his open hearted grins and earned an indignant sideways glance from Sarah for it.
"To come to the main point straight away," a pair of melancholic eyes scrutinizingly scanned the Doctor ".You seem to be very knowledgeable about these alien life forms, my restaurant manager told me. You are a doctor of xenobiology?"
"No, not really, lets say I get around."
"Well, I think, you might just be humble. What do you plan to do with this creature?"
"I want to organize relocation to it's home world."
"So you know indeed, where is originates from?" the director asked, his now very vivid eyes hefted on the Doctor.
"I have an idea, yes," the Doctor admitted.
The director leaned back and considered his visitor for a moment, nervously tapping his fingers on the dark marble.
"I want you to see the other specimen and tell me what you think." He decided, emerged from behind his desk and signalled them to follow him.
"There have been more attacks?" the Timelord asked with some curiosity.
"Yes, there have been. Don't you ever watch the news? We could cover up some, but others..."
"Erm... no, I hardly watch news, sorry. I must have missed that piece of information," he replied and grinned sheepishly. A few doors and corridors later he laid his hands on a touch pad at a door. With a whirring sound the slide door opened and the Doctor and Sarah entered a small room, where on shelves bizarre creatures were preserved in tanks.
"What do you make of these?" the director warily inquired, after having given the Doctor the time to have a look around.
"Mmh, that's interesting!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, his nose only an inch away from one of the tanks. "Umbin cockroaches! Now they are really a plague. Oh and look at that! A screeching eel from Pysh . What has that one done?" he asked when he observed the occupant of another tank.
"It has been living in the sewers. Attacked one of our most prominent guests when he was in the bathroom," he replied stiffly, only partially able to gloss over the embarrassment this incident obviously caused him.
"Has it bitten him into his dangling royal privates?" sarah giggled from behind them? Suddenly two pairs of male eyes turned to her to give her the 'this is not even remotely funny' look, silencing her.
"Yes, basically that's what happened," finally the manager spoke, "the financial compensations for the temporal loss of ah... fertility tore a huge hole into the finances of the company. This incident was so embarrassing for all involved parties that it has been kept top secret. Although there are unfortunately wild rumours..." He sighed and with a theatrical gesture he dabbed sweat from his brow with a large silk hankerchief. "What do you make of these creatures?"
"Well.. I recognize three or four of them. That's all." He scratched his head, when he inspected the other containers more closely, and after a moment of hesitation continued. "All I can tell you is that the ones I recognize are from planets all origniate in the same area in the second arm of this galaxy. I think your culprit must be a citizen of the United Empire of Aulea or somebody with connections there. Does that help you?"
"Aulea, Aulea.. never heard of it !"
"Hm, maybe you know it by it's other name, the glorious Human Empire of Upper Hand?"
"Upper Hand, Upper Hand! But that's nothing more than some old stories and legends," he dismissed with a wave of his pudgy hand.
"Well, no, it isn't. I think just the knowledge about the subspace routes through the void between the arms of this galaxy are not really well known since the war against the Upper Hand. Lost in the chaos, hm? But I guess, some smugglers might still know them, keeping them secret. Most Aulean citizens are rather dark skinned. So maybe you look for such a person with a doctored CV, or somebody with connections to smugglers, who wants to ruin the tourist business here and then buy that place for chicken feed and take it over," he concluded his deliberations, his gaze falling on the pin that the held the man's tunic together.
"Are you going to help me here? Apparently you are the only person I can trust with this," the manager warily inquired, gauging the other man with his gaze.
"No. I'm going to help these. I'm neither an exterminator nor a security expert nor the keeper of your private little zoo." He went to a container in the corner and lifted the covering to reveal a cage that held two quivering Shama crammed into the narrow space. "And I will take these two with me, too."
"But those two are meant for the university...," he began to protest.
"Yes. And I can guess for what. To dissect them to find out how they fly. That's not going to happen, or I inform the ethics commission of the governing body of this quadrant about these illegal activities. Because these are not some animals, like the eels and roaches."
"There is no way that money could change your mind?" the Director asked obligingly.
"Money you say? No, I'm very sorry, I'm not after money," the Doctor turned him down.
"Very well, as you wish," director Paldewan huffed disappointeldy. "Then take these... things... Pease let me know if you change your mind," he added, his jovial businessman veneer back in place.
"Of course," the Doctor replied politely, handing Sarah the bundle, he had a closer look at the cage and pulled the cover back in it's place. He picked it up at the handles, and after a very polite farewell, the offer of another dinner on the house and greetings the clerk brought them to the entrance
"Sarah, I have a very bad feeling about this. We better get to the Tardis as fast as we can," the Doctor muttered under his breath as soon as they were around the corner of the next building, persuing the direction to the public hangar where their scooter was parked.
"Why?"
"I might be wrong, but I'm fairly certain that the pin the director is wearing is Aulean in design. Did you notice how easily he gave in when I insisted to get these two Shama?"
"You think..?" Sarah left the sentence unfinished.
"Yes, I think," he stated matter of factly.
She took a cautious look over her shoulders but could not detect anything out of the usual and swallowed hard. "That had to happen."
"Yeah," he replied ruefully, clutching the cage more thightly.
The boulevard was crowded with people seeking amusement, but neither Sarah nor the Doctor had sense for that kind of entertainment anymore. Neither of them spoke. The Timelord striked a brisk pace and Sarah, the bundle with the injured alien in her arms hurried to keep up with her companion.