Chapter Seven

"This Isn't What You Think."

Not having much of an appetite, Peri had eaten very little and apologized to her Royal host. He was such an odd little man, she thought, so unlike anyone in authority she had met thus far. Even if everyone did say he was out of his tree, at least he'd had the decency to listen to her entire story, his face revealing nothing of what was going on behind his bright, sparkling eyes. There were times when Peri had the feeling that, even though his body was old, his mind was still very active. Whether or not it functioned properly was another matter entirely.

"…and then Daniels brought me to you," Peri was saying, concluding her story for what she hoped was the last time.

After a thoughtful silence, the King said, "You say this friend of yours…"

"The Doctor."

"Yes, the Doctor. He was hurt by the generator screen?"

Peri nodded, pulling out the ointment Owen had given her. "I put this on his burns, and he said it helped. But…" Her voice trailed off and the King looked up expectantly. "Yes?"

Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Peri exploded, "But he's blind! And he's hurt! And nobody here seems to give a tinker's damn about it!"

The old man seems startled by this unexpected outburst and held up his hands. "Calm your self, my dear, I'm sure we can get this all sorted out if we just keep our heads."

Thinking she might be blowing any chance of ever seeing the Doctor again, Peri tried to calm down. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. I know it's not your fault."

"That's quite alright, Miss Brown," the King said soothingly. "I suspect you're probably very tired. And…not just a little bit frightened, too, I imagine." Receiving a hesitant half-smile, he gave a small grunt of satisfaction. He rose to his feet and went over to a communication screen near the inner door where he summoned an escort from his private security force.

Just as the guard arrived, a series of alarms went off in another wing of the building an nounc ing the Doctor's escape. The King went to the French doors and looked out into the darkness. There were no stars visible, nor any moon, yet the sky was still aglow, illuminated by the fires that still raged out of control throughout the city. The en closed courtyard below was suddenly awash with light, dozens of men pouring into it from every side. They swarmed around a man who was presumably the one in charge, although it was difficult to tell. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once. Eventually order was restored and the officer in charge started barking out or ders.

The King turned away from this chaotic scene, a wry smile coming to his face. "They cer tainly do keep active, don't they?" he observed amusedly.

Peri had not been thrilled with the idea of returning to the prison area and was amazed and relieved when the King ordered her taken to one of the rooms in his commandeered portion of the State House. "But…I thought I was under arrest," she said in bewilderment.

"And so you are, my dear," came the amiable reply. "But that doesn't mean you have to be subjected to barbaric treatment, does it?"

"Majesty," the guard injected concernedly, "I would prefer that you did not remain un guarded tonight. Those alarms mean—"

"I'm well aware of what the alarms mean, Corporal," the King cut in sharply. "I'll be per fectly fine. And once they turn off those noisy things we can all get a good night's sleep."

Just as the guard turned to take Peri out, the monarch was struck by a sudden thought. "Corpo ral, no one is to know where Miss Brown is being held, is that clear? Tell the Commander that only our people are to be informed."

"Yes, my Lord."

Peri wasn't sure whether to be frightened or relieved by this. "You…uh, expecting trouble, your Majesty?" she asked shakily.

"Expecting it?" the King laughed. "My dear young woman, I've sent for it."

In another part of the State House, the Doctor had also heard the alarms as well as the sound of numerous booted feet moving ever closer in pursuit. Finding another elevator (or perhaps it was the same one, as he had no idea where he was going) the Doctor took a chance and continued ever higher in the building, hoping to elude his pursuers.

Hurriedly groping his way down an unexpectedly long and curving hallway, the Time Lord came upon a heavy wooden door and ran his hands over its intricately carved surface in search of the handle. He found it and, to his joy, it turned in his hand. He opened the door and crossed the threshold just as the pursuing guards reached the top of the landing a few yards behind him.

"There he is!" someone called.

Needing no further prompting, the Doctor slammed the door shut. He found the bolt and drove it home just seconds before the guards arrived on the other side. Heaving a sigh of relief, the exhausted Time Lord leaned heavily against the door, hearing the muffled sound of cursing on the other side.

The frustrated guards suddenly began pounding on the heavy wooden barrier, startling the Doctor, who backed away, bumped into a chair, lost his balance, and ended up sitting down. For a single, fleeting instant he entertained the notion of not getting up. "This is senseless," he mut tered, not sure himself why he had tried to escape. How could he possibly hope to get away? The TARDIS was still on the satellite, and Peri was still being held prisoner somewhere in the build ing. Then, of course, there was the fact that he didn't have the vaguest idea where he was, or even where he was going. On top of all that, his burns were giving him a great deal of pain and he was developing a splitting headache, the latter of which would have made seeing straight dif ficult. If he were able to see, that is, he thought darkly.

This rare moment of self-pity was interrupted when a door on the far side of the room opened. The newcomer stood in the doorway silently studying the transient Time Lord and ig noring the fists that continued to hammer on the main door.

The Doctor heard the rustle of garments as his silent observer entered the room and held up his manacled hands in surrender. "This isn't what you think," he said quickly.

"It never is," the King sighed enigmatically as he crossed to the door. Throwing a quick glance in the trapped Time Lord's direction, he said sharply, "They won't see you there, so what ever you do, keep quiet." With that he threw the bolt and pulled the door open.

The unexpected command quite naturally took the Doctor off guard, leaving him uncharac teristically at a loss for words. Far greater was his surprise when he felt a rush of air across his face and realized he was concealed behind the massive door.

The Time Lord's pursuers were equally surprised when the heavy wooden barrier abruptly swung open. One of the guards was in the process of hurling himself at it and ended up sprawled at the monarch's feet. The old man regarded him steadily a moment before slowly lift ing his gaze to the others.

"Mr. Farrell!" he snapped angrily. "Is all this really necessary? If you wanted to see me, all you had to do was contact my secretary. He could easily have arranged—"

"My apologies for having disturbed you like this, your Majesty," Farrell cut in, "but there's a dangerous prisoner at large in the building. He was being transferred to a high security area when—"

"I'm not really interested in the details," the King interrupted blandly. "All I want to know is, couldn't you've found a quieter way of informing me than breaking down my door in the middle of the night?"

The Doctor listened to this exchange in a combination of amusement, bewilderment, and awe; not quite believing it himself that he had actually managed to take refuge in the apartments of the visiting monarch. More amazing still was the fact that the eccentric King seemed to be shielding him. Why, he did not know, and wondered if somehow he and Peri had become em broiled in an elaborate power struggle.

By this time Farrell was controlling his anger with visible effort. "We were trying to break down your door because we've just seen the prisoner run in there," he hissed.

There was a long pause as the old King apparently mulled this over in his mind. "Well, in that case…" he said finally, pulling the door even wider, "you'd better come in."

The Doctor tensed as the men tromped noisily into the room. He was certain he was about to be betrayed, yet the monarch remained firmly planted beside the door. Had he been able to see him, the Doctor would have observed the old gentleman leaning casually upon his tall cane, his long voluminous dressing gown flaring out to effectively conceal the trapped Time Lord behind him.

"Where do these lead?" someone asked, indicating the French doors.

"To the balcony surrounding the courtyard," came the weary reply. "It's not much of a view, in my opinion."

Farrell snorted indignantly. "I presume you keep them locked at all times."

"Why in heaven's name would I do that?"

Another growl rose in Farrell's throat. He ordered his men to continue the search. "Might I suggest, your Majesty, that you keep all your doors locked tonight." He punctuated his remark by slamming the door behind him.

"If I did that," the monarch remarked disdainfully, "people couldn't get in."