CANDY

Chapter Three

Vandon found me in the TARDIS around teatime and stood gawping for quite a while before asking after his mother. I evaded his questions, as I hadn't yet had time to tell the princess what Nyssa had found. To distract him, I showed him around the console and let him open and close the door by himself a few times. Nyssa came back to the TARDIS and walked through the open door, smiling at Vandon. "I was looking for you, Your Highness," she said. "I am collecting samples from everyone in the palace to eliminate some causes of your mo… I mean the Princess Regent's illness. Would you mind stepping into my laboratory?" I made a mental note to show Nyssa some classic old horror movies so she could say that line in a spooky accent.

"Not at all," replied Vandon, following Nyssa out of the console room.

I'd been looking forward to conversing again with the bright boy, but this appeared to be a good time to try again to find his mother, so I left the TARDIS and asked to be taken to the princess' chambers. I found her in, and was invited to sit while she rested, not in bed but in a rocking chair near where she made me sit, as before. "Your Highness," I began, "Nyssa has found out what is making you ill."

"Oh?" It only registered later that she seemed almost uninterested.

"It is a substance similar to, or exactly, we are not sure which, Thallium, in either case a post-transition metal. A heavy metal." This evoked not so much as a change in the princess' facial expression, but one hand clenched slightly. "We don't know how it came to be in your system, whether you were exposed to it by chance or…."

"Poisoned," said the princess.

"Yes, that is a possibility. So I must ask you, and forgive me, Your Highness, but can you think of anyone in whose interest it might be to see you…"

",,, dead?" The princess finished my query. "I cannot claim to be adored, here or elsewhere. I was an imported bride. I come from halfway around the world, Barcla, an island nation which eschews membership in the Global Diplomacy Mission. Nearly every nation is a member; Barcla prefers to pick and choose its allies. Diplomacy usually involves more intimate alliances as well. I was the compromise."

"Oh, I see." What else could I say?

"The alliance was provisional and would not be finalized until Grigs had an heir to the throne, so I, who never expected to be a princess, regent or otherwise, and never wanted children, found myself pregnant thrice. I lost the first two, one in childbirth and one when she was a year old. Vandon sealed the alliance." She looked sharply at me. "To my surprise, I came to love him. He is my world."

"His father…?"

"I have told Vandon that his father died of illness. Now I wish I hadn't chosen that particular lie, because my son is terrified of losing me the same way, and, alas, he will. The truth is, his father ran off with a Meliznan tourist and now lives several galaxies away. I don't know that he even dislikes me; I feel sure he has no reason to want me dead."

"In order to remarry?"

"On Melizna, one may have many spouses. No, Doctor, I know no one who wants me out of the way at all. My son is nearly old enough to rule, although ideally he should mature greatly before taking on that burden. If I can hang on until his 13th birthday, there will be no need for a regent. You have noticed, perhaps, that we are a skeleton family with a skeleton staff. There is no one qualified to be regent. No one but me."

I hadn't had the impression that the staff was inadequate, but I had noticed that the entire royal family seemed to consist of the prince and the princess. "When is the prince's birthday?"

"In two months. Surely I can hang on for two months?"

"We can start treating you right away. I don't pretend to know what your chances are. I am sure Nyssa took a history from you but I have not yet had an opportunity to read it. Do you by any chance have a good source of potassium? Prussian blue, perhaps?"

"I shall have to find out," said the princess. "And I shall try not to get my hopes up. Thank you, Doctor." She closed her eyes. I understood, of course, that I was dismissed.

I told the court physician of Nyssa's findings, and made my case for Prussian blue. He was noncommittal. "How is your head?" he asked, feeling for the bump and, upon finding it, pressing a little harder upon it than I would have appreciated. "You have been losing consciousness suddenly, right after a bump on the head."

"Oh…." I waved my hand vaguely, hoping he would drop the subject. He didn't.

"This could be serious," he insisted. "Sit here." Sighing, I sat. Tangled web, I thought. Maybe Nyssa could synthesize some Prussian blue. Wait until this guy finds out I have two hearts. Should I tell him? Well, my blood pressure will astonish him. He is probably expecting it to be low, too. There, now he is in for a shock. "Two hearts!" he declared, and I tried not to grin too broadly. "I don't know what would constitute high or low blood pressure for you."

"I think it's all right," I said, then winced as he grabbed my face and neck rather roughly to examine my eyes, cervical lymph nodes and everything in between. He used his otoscope on my throat, ears and nasal passages (fortunately in that order), drew blood, took a buccal swab, had me pee in a bottle and generally impressed me well with his thoroughness, which was unnecessary in my case but I had gotten myself into this, after all, and ill with his detachment, which I thought odd for a physician. No bedside manner, I concluded.

"Drink more water," advised the doctor. "You may be dehydrated."

"Thank you," I said, eager to get out of his office; I had missed tea already and was loathe to miss dinner too. Then it occurred to me that my visit had been almost exclusively about me and barely at all about the princess. "About Her Royal Highness," I began, but he interrupted me.

"With your permission," he said, "I would like to give you a shot of B12. It won't hurt you and it might perk you up." I wanted to tell him I was plenty perky, perky enough to want to get up and go, but instead I permitted him to inject the vitamin into my thigh. Before I could object, he had rubbed the injection point vigorously, slapped a plaster over it and had me draw up my trousers again (I had no objection to doing so; the plaster I didn't need).

"Thank you," I said. "Now, if we could talk about treatment for Her Royal Highness…."

"Yes, of course." He turned his back on me to wash his hands. "You're not feeling faint now, are you?"

"No, I'm fine." I was getting irritated. "I did come to talk about the Princess Regent, though. Thallium poisoning is nothing to play around with and she has been untreated for too long."

"Agreed." He turned around to face me. "So why are you proposing to treat her with another poison?"

"I beg your pardon?"

He put his face uncomfortably close to mine. "Why are you proposing to treat Her Royal Highness with cyanide?"

"No, you see, the cyanide in the Prussian blue binds to iron. It is perfectly safe."

"Cyanide, safe?"

"Not by itself, no, but in this form…."

"Is the thallium not working quickly enough? Is that why you are trying a second poison?"

"No, I…." I thought he might grab me by the shoulders but he just kept his face an inch from mine and shouted,

"Why do you want Her Royal Highness dead? Who hired you? What are they paying you? Where do you really come from?" I tried to stand up and push the physician out of the way but he only needed one hand on my chest to push me back down in my seat. That made me dizzy and suddenly I laughed: my "fainting spells" had been fake but now I felt as if I might pass out for real. I was distracted by the irony of that so he shook me so I would look at him again. He hadn't moved away. There was a tiny clump of snot in the corner of one nostril, moving in and out as he breathed, and he was breathing rather hard, like a snorting bull. I burst into laughter and couldn't stop. In fact I was limp with laughter and started to slide off the chair. He backed off and let me; I hit the floor and laughed helplessly there, until he turned away once more, muttering, "Too much." Then I was able to collect myself, but I was rather comfortable sitting there on the floor and sat smiling to myself at how ridiculous the whole situation was. He sat down at his desk and began to write. I don't know how much time passed but he paid me no attention whatsoever. Eventually I got up and, rubber-legged, stumbled out of the room. An attendant was waiting for me so I had an escort to the Caramel Room, where I lay down on the bed, fully clothed, shiny shoes and all, and had a lovely nap.