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Phillipa and Jolyon smiled their grat.i.tude and walked off. Reverend Lukas picked up his suitcase and walked towards the accommodation end of Carrington City, searching for the low-rate rooms he had hired for himself and his small flock. With the two youngsters off enjoying themselves, he only had to wait for Kyle Dale and his group and they would all be there, ready for the big day. It did not take long for Reverend Lukas to navigate the well-laid- but streets and pathways, past the green gra.s.sy knolls, beautiful fountains and gleaming buildings, before he found his hotel, the Mirage. Before entering, he glanced back at the section of Carrington City he was in.
'Truly a Utopia for the next millennium,' he said.'Such a tragedy.'
Removing his hat, he hoisted up his robes and climbed the few steps to the gla.s.s doors, which slid open to admit him. He crossed the polished floors to the reception area in the centre.
Around him, lush green plants dotted the floor and entrance-ways to the elevators. He could see through the smoked gla.s.s walls the gla.s.s tubes that connected the upper levels with the other areas. A cool breeze was artificially pumped across the vast room, a welcome respite from the slightly humid air of the city outside. Artificial energy sources were all very well but even in these days of such so-called miracles, they still couldn't get the weather perfect.
'Good afternoon, ma'am,' he said to the receptionist. 'My name is Lukas.
Reverend Lukas. I believe I have a suite of rooms in Delta Sector booked in the name of the Church of the Way Forward.'
The receptionist, her burnt-orange skin and three stubby fingers clearly marking her as a Cantryan, tapped her keyboard. A series of numbers appeared in the air between them and she nodded as they appeared.
'Suite 904, Father.' She glanced at a set of smaller numbers, and then pointed to them. 'Your credit will run out in five days, I'm afraid.'
'Not a problem, ma'am. We will be leaving the evening after next, if that's all right. We'll be transferring to the Olympic barracks, then.'
The receptionist adjusted the booking. 'Not a problem, Father. We hope you enjoy your stay. If you require any of the services we offer, a full description of how to get them is in the suite's datapad.When do you expect the others in your party to arrive?'
Reverend Lukas smiled. 'In their own time, but before supper tonight. I will remain in the suite until we are all gathered.'
'Do you require a booking in one of the restaurants?'
Reverend Lukas shook his head. 'We will travel to the poor sector and help there in one of the gratuity kitchens.'
The receptionist frowned, then smiled. 'Oh, I see. But actually, Father, there are no poor sectors in Carrington City. Nor gratuity kitchens. No need for them - everyone here has everything they need.'
Reverend Lukas took this in. 'I see. Truly the Utopia the brochures promise.
In that case, we will order some small amount of fresh fruit and vegetables in our suite.' With that he took the tiny ID card the receptionist held out and headed for the elevator that would take him to Delta Area.
Everything was just perfect.
The church was not exactly what Stacy Townsend had in mind when she planned the wedding, but as neither she nor Ssard could afford the s.p.a.ce flight to Earth or New Mars, Micawber's World was a good subst.i.tute.
Ssard was silting on a pew, flicking through a brochure, grumbling pretty much as usual. Stacy knew this was a good sign - Ssard was happy and content only when there was something, no matter how insignificant, to grumble about.
'Why they cannot supply electronic brochures, I cannot understand,' he hissed.
Stacy draped herself over his shoulder, squeezing the outer body sh.e.l.l tightly, knowing that the pressure would transfer to the softer reptilian skin beneath, sending all sorts of tingles through Ssard's body. Not that he acknowledged this very often, but Stacy knew, and that was enough for her. She loved this large, hulking reptile to death. Green scales, silly helmet ('A Martian must look ready for action at all times,' he had said when she suggested he take it off now and again) and all.
'It's part of the charm of the Church State, Ssard. Tradition. You of all people should understand tradition.'
Sensing he was flummoxed by the logic, an amused Stacy released her grip and moved around the pew to drop on to her knees before his. 'Please, I know Christianity means nothing to you, but my faith is, well, important to me. And bearing in mind neither of us actually comes from this era - thank you, Doctor - I need something to hold on to. It means a lot to me if we can be married by a priest in a Christian church. I just wish my parents were here to see it all. They'd have loved all this. And you.'
Ssard nodded. 'I understand, Stacy. This is all a little strange, that is all.'
Stacy smiled. They had had this conversation before. On New Mars, marriage was a brief ceremony, established when the partic.i.p.ants were young, and predetermined. Keeping bloodlines pure and all that. Pretty medieval in Stacy's view but in the few years she and Ssard had continued their lives as part of this Galactic Federation, she had learned that the sheer diversity of cultures, races and creeds made the galaxy seem a much larger and far more interesting place. Stacy was working in an office on Antares, sorting out applications from the outer planets wishing to join the Federation. Ssard had a job in the Martian Commission on lo, helping locate some of the fringe Martian groups who wanted out of the peaceful coexistence that Martians shared with the Federation members and demanding a return to their independent, even warlike, past. As someone who originally came from that past, Ssard had some sympathies with the groups, but nevertheless rationalised that living in the fortieth century meant fitting in with the modern way. Stacy always reminded him about Romans in Rome, but knew Ssard hadn't the foggiest idea what she was talking about.
Now they had travelled to Micawber's World, where one of the few off-Earth Christian churches had been built by Carrington Corp and hired out for traditional weddings.
The tall building, constructed entirely from stained gla.s.s, was not quite the olde-worlde stone church Stacy had envisioned getting hitched in, but what the heck! It would serve the purpose nicely.
'h.e.l.lo, Stacy.'
She did not turn around immediately, although the smile that broke across her face was heartfelt. She had played this scene through her mind so many times...
She let out a breath and then turned.'h.e.l.lo, Doctor.You haven't changed.'
She hurried to him and gave him a ma.s.sive hug.'Still as punctual as ever.'
'We've missed it?' the Doctor was aghast. 'No, silly.You're early!'
Ssard saluted the Doctor, right arm across chest. The Doctor returned the greeting, offering a slight bow as well.'Ssard, how are you?'
'I am very well, thank you, Doctor. It is a... pleasure to see you again.'
The Doctor coughed. 'We're not early, actually. We wanted to have a look around the Olympic Stadium.'
'We?'
'Yeah, 'we'.' Stacy watched as a young woman walked into the church behind the Doctor. She was quite tall, shoulder-length blonde hair parted in the centre, wearing an all-in-one beige tracksuit, and carrying a small satchel. She wasn't stunningly attractive, nor was she plain. In fact she was, Stacy was pleased to note, frighteningly average. Rather like her.
Stacy smiled.'You're Samantha Jones?'
Sam's eyebrows raised.'Yeah. Right. How did you... Oh, I get it. He told you about me when you travelled together, right?' Stacy nodded.'But he said you were... younger.'
'I was. I've been on this gig a while now.'
Stacy nodded, offering her hand. Time travel, eh? Who needs it. Life's confusing enough as it is.'
'Too right, Stacy. Good to meet you. How long since you last saw the Guv'nor, then?'
'Just about two years, give or take a few months. Oh, Sam, it's so good to meet you at last.'
The two women slowly walked away from the Doctor and Ssard, who seemed to be swapping stories already, and headed further into the church. After a few moments of idle chit-chat about Micawber's World, Stacy glanced back at the Doctor.
'How is he? Really.'
Sam shrugged.'OK, for the most part. Gets a few moods, but on the whole, he's all right.'
'Part and parcel of the hero bag, I suppose. Cosmic angst and all that.'
Stacy sighed. Remembering...
'Yeah,' Sam agreed.'But he's strong. He gets through it all. Always there with the right words, the soft shoulder and the fresh Kleenex to cry into.'
Sam smiled. 'He's pretty d.a.m.n fab, actually.'
Stacy smiled.'You know, I thought I loved him once. Thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. He saved my life and I transferred so much on to him. Don't tell Ssard - he wouldn't see it as the innocent thing it was.'
'Really?'
'Yeah. How about you?'
Sam paused, then grinned. 'Nan. Not my type.'
Stacy just nodded knowingly. 'Yeah. Right.'
Another pause and then the two new friends burst into laughter. 'Oh, all right, then,' Sam admitted.'A slight crush. I mean, really minuscule. Like atom-sized, OK? But don't tell him.'
Stacy shook her head. 'My lips are sealed. Honest. But I'm glad he's got you around. Keep him in order. When we parted, I said to Ssard that my only regret was not being sure how he'd cope alone. I should have known he would have gone back to collect you. He talked about you a lot.'
Sam seemed to glow at this.'Really? Cool. He missed you two a lot as well, you know. That's why I'm glad we came, I wanted to meet you. IVe heard...
so much about you in the last few years.'
Stacy threw an arm around Sam's shoulder. "That's nice. I often wondered if he'd bother mentioning our time together. Wasn't that long really.' Stacy hugged Sam a bit tighter.'This is going to be fun, you know. It's a small service - we still don't have many friends out here, but the ones we have are good. I'm glad we can add you to the list.'
Sam nodded happily. "Yeah. It's going to be great.'
Events Coordinator Sumner was fretting. Why did nothing go as planned for him? What G.o.ds had conspired to not only give him this appointment which he never really wanted (only filled in the application form because the fire-breathing man-munching dragon he called 'the wife' told him to) but also to ensure it was a living nightmare.
'Mr Sumner? The latest tourist activity reports.'
Sumner stretched out a thin hand (my G.o.d, when did I last eat?) to take the datapad from his obsequious, but very efficient, a.s.sistant, Madox.
Madox was typical of the clerical and service personnel supplied by the Federation. Tall, bald, beaky nose and wearing a long blue smock that hung from his permanently hunched shoulders down to his ankles. Madox rarely smiled, rarely expressed an opinion and ate even less than Sumner.
Madox was one of a cloned species, the Teknix, as they were known.
Sumner found them creepy and unpleasant to be around. They spoke little, smiled less and, Sumner was convinced, had an aroma of staleness about them. Did they sleep? Did they need to?
Sumner wasn't given to paranoia, but he still held a belief that in many ways the Teknix were employed not so much by the Federation, but directly by the office of the Guardian. His eyes and ears. Always listening and looking for knowledge to pa.s.s on for political reasons.
Madox waited for Sumner to tap in his signature code and began to walk away with the datapad.
'Hold up,' Sumner said quietly.'Madox, let me see the visitor data again, will you?'
There was barely a breath before Madox was beside him again, the relevant data on the pad's screen. Sumner scrolled through the characters.
"This one.' He pointed at a file. 'Bit odd, isn't it? What are they doing on Micawber's World right now?'
'I shall ascertain, Coordinator.' Madox wandered off again.
Which left Sumner staring out of his office window at the verdant plazas below. The beautiful spires and domes of Carrington City, reflecting the artificial light from their glazed walls and roofs, towered over the tiny blobs of people moving around the walkways and gla.s.s tubes connecting the buildings. The odd taxi flew around the parking lots, delivering pa.s.sengers to offices, hotels, ports and the like. Carrington City seemed like a paradise.
But Sumner had a sinking feeling that the forthcoming Olympiad may well change that, especially as they were on the planet.
The Doctor found Sam sitting in a park about an hour later, throwing small pebbles into a fountain.
'Penny for them?'
Sam didn't look up. 'What, the stones?' The Doctor just kept looking at her and she sighed. 'I like Stacy and Ssard, you know. She's got her head screwed on tight and, as green guys with scales go, I reckon Ssard's going to make her happy.'
'But?' The Doctor sat on the ground beside her, not catching her eye, but fiddling with some blades of long gra.s.s.
Sam sighed. 'But I had to lie to her.' She threw a pebble with more force than she intended, and it bounced out of the fountain and towards the pathway. A woman walking some strange pet muttered a curse, gave Sam a filthy look and walked on.'You told her about me. h.e.l.l, you even told her where the demo was that you left me at. The smallest details. You know, she even knew that I came from East London, right?"
'Right.'
'You never talked about them to me. I told her you did, that you enthused about them as much as you do about chrono-displacement theories, interstellar cartography and the value of Majusian gold bricks to the Talute dynasties. But, Doctor, you didn't . You never even acknowledged their existence. I mean, they were travelling with you for almost a year. But when I came back, their rooms were empty. There was nothing to tell me that someone else had lived beside you all that time.' She slumped back on her elbows, and stared at the sky. 'I seriously considered staying on Ha'olam, you know. But if I had, would you have emptied me out of your life as easily? Would my room, my belongings, be locked away somewhere so that the next Sam, the next Stacy, the next whoever, would be unaware of me ?'
'I'm sorry I never told you about Stacy and Ssard.' The Doctor was still picking at the long gra.s.s.'My judgement at the time was that you didn't need to hear it. As time went by, it just became, well, irrelevant. I apologise, not just for the omission, but for making you lie to Stacy. And thank you for doing so. I sadly find it very easy to forget that in a life as long as mine has been, the people I meet are often changed by our adventures, sometimes not always for the best. I will promise to think about that more. And Sam?'
'Yeah?'
'I will always remember you even if the next Sam or Stacy or Victoria or Tegan doesn't.'
'Victoria? Tegan? Who the h.e.l.l... Oh, never mind.' Sam lay back on the gra.s.s and closed her eyes. 'I'm just making mountains out of molehills, as usual. Ignore me.'
'OK!' said the Doctor cheerily. He stood up, brushing down his frock coat. 'I want to go shopping. Get some trinkets and meaningless baubles to commemorate the Olympics. Coming?'
Sam kept her eyes closed. 'I want to get Stacy a wedding gift. Something special. For all her happiness, she's feeling a bit... displaced. Know what I mean?'
The Doctor frowned slightly. 'Not entirely, no. Sorry.'
Sam shrugged. 'This isn't her time, her era. She's been legitimately dead for, what, fifteen hundred odd years? As far as I can see, that doesn't matter so much to Ssard, but Stacy misses her friends, her family. You're the only person apart from Ssard she has any real links to. Well, and me by default.'
'Go on.'
'Well... Oh I don't know. I just think she deserves something special.
Something to make her feel more... human? More like she's really getting married. More connected I suppose. For all their love, Stacy must feel a bit as if they've eloped and got married in some Los Angeles We-Marry-U-Kwik church.'
'How about this?'
Sam lazily opened one eye and stared up at what the Doctor was holding.
Two figures, holding hands, woven from the long gra.s.s, like corn dollies.
They were unmistakably Stacy and Ssard. She laughed.