Doctor Who: Marco Polo (5 page)

'How much is left?' he asked.

'None,' Marco replied. 'We have no
water until we reach the oasis.'

'Or until the oasis comes to us,' the
Doctor observed dryly. Ian clicked his fingers.

'That's it, Doctor,' he exclaimed. 'One
of us rides on ahead, fills the gourd and brings it back.'

'And if there are bandits?' Marco
asked.

'We're in trouble enough as it is, so
what's the difference?' Ian replied.

'You are from the Occident,' Tegana
interjected, 'but I am of their race, a Tartar, and my horse is
strong. I shall fetch the water.' Marco thanked him and said they
would journey towards the oasis as best they could.

'No, wait here,' Tegana said, but Marco
shook his head.

'One step nearer to you is one step
closer to water,' he insisted. Tegana shrugged, picked up the empty
gourd, slung it across his horse's back in front of the saddle and, mounting, rode off across
the desert.

The thought of water spurred everyone
to greater efforts to close the distance between the caravan and the
oasis but during the early evening the Doctor collapsed from
exhaustion.

'Grandfather!' Susan screamed as she
ran to his side.

'We'll rig a cot for him in a wagon,'
Marco said.

'To be jostled and bumped about?'
Barbara protested. 'He needs to rest in comfort. In the TARDIS.'

'How can that be?' Marco exclaimed.
'The flying caravan sits in a wagon yet you say the Doctor would be
more comfortable in it. I do not understand.' He fingered the key on
the chain with the Khan's seal that hung around his neck.

'Take Barbara's word for it,' Ian was
blunt.

'Please, Messer Marco,' Susan pleaded.
Marco took off the chain and handed it to Susan.

'The Doctor may ride to the oasis in
his caravan and you may travel with him, Susan,' he said, 'but
Barbara and Ian remain with me.'

'Fair enough,' Ian agreed, 'but you'll
allow me to see the Doctor to his bed?' Marco nodded and Ian picked
up the Doctor, and carried him over to the TARDIS as Susan clambered
onto the wagon to unlock the door. Using the Doctor's pencil-torch,
they took him inside, went to his room and laid him on his bed.

'More than anything, he needs water,'
Ian remarked.

'Without power the water-producer won't
work,' Susan said, adding that if only Marco had let her grandfather
repair the energy-distributor they would not be in such a
predicament.

'We wouldn't even be here,' Ian
reminded her as he handed her the torch, closed the door behind him,
jumped off the wagon and walked over to Marco. 'The Doctor's in a bad
way,' he said, 'and without water he won't last another twenty-four
hours.' Marco looked at him with a grim face.

'None of us will, Ian, I know the
desert,' he replied. 'Our lives are in Tegana's hands.' Then he gave
the order to break camp.

Tegana reached the oasis before sunset.
He approached it cautiously but no one was there. His horse lapped up
water greedily as Tegana rinsed his face and with cupped hands
slurped it into his mouth. Then he stood up and turned towards the
desert.

'Here's water, Marco Polo,' he shouted,
'come and drink it.'

With nightfall a freezing wind swept
down from the north.

'How can it be so cold in the desert?'
Barbara shivered as she asked Ian who explained that, as hot air
rises, cold air sweeps in to replace it, adding that they were not
that far south of the Mongolian steppes.

'You're too clever by half,' she
murmured, wrapping her cloak more tightly around her.

The caravan struggled on through the
bitterly cold night until dawn when the wind died down and the sun
rose. It was then that the Doctor felt the drop of water on his
cheek. He opened his eyes and felt the walls. They were soaking wet.
Susan was still asleep in a chair beside his bed.

'Susan, wake up,' he croaked, 'there's
condensation everywhere. Fetch sponges and jugs quickly before it
evaporates.' Susan switched on the torch and both of them worked
frantically for the next half hour mopping up every drop. By the time
the TARDIS was dry they had four full jugs. Then they went outside
and shouted to Marco to stop the caravan. They set down the jugs on
the wagon and the Doctor locked the door.

'You had this in your flying caravan?'
Marco demanded accusingly while Ping-Cho rationed out the water to
everyone.

'In a manner of speaking, yes,' the
Doctor replied calmly.

'Why did you conceal it until now?'
Marco was furious.

'Because it wasn't there until this
morning,' the Doctor answered.

'Condensation.' Ian clicked his
fingers.

'Precisely, Chesterton,' the Doctor
replied and Ian explained to Marco that the hot air trapped inside
the TARDIS had cooled out during the night and become water on the
walls. Marco shook his head.

'So much water in so small a caravan, I
don't understand it.' He sounded perplexed.

'There are a lot of things you don't
understand, Polo,' the Doctor replied. 'Now shall we continue our
journey?' Marco held out his hand.

'The Khan's seal and the key, if you
please, Doctor,' he said. The Doctor handed him the chain. As Marco
took it he smiled.

'Thank you for saving our lives,' he
said.

When Tegana saw the caravan on the
horizon, he hastily filled the gourd and rode out to meet them with a
tale of bandits at the oasis during the night, forcing him to hide
until they rode north towards Karakorum in the morning.

As the slits in the gourds needed
stitching, a task Marco gave to the Mongol bearers, he declared that
they would spend the day and the night at the oasis before moving on
the following morning. The Doctor sat in the shade of a palm tree
beside the water-hole and mused.

'Bandits,' he said derisively to no one
in particular.

'I beg your pardon, Doctor?' Ian
replied as he lay half-dozing in the sun.

'Are we agreed, Chesterton, that last
night was cold?' the Doctor asked. Without waiting for a reply he
launched himself into a dissertation on the general appearance of the
oasis, remarking on its tidiness and emphasising the lack of evidence
of a fire. 'Not a cinder, my dear fellow, anywhere, but we are as one
that it was cold last night.'

'Bitterly so, sir,' Ian replied.

'So what did they do, these bandits,
sit and shiver?' the Doctor asked. Barbara, who had been filling a
jug with water, looked at him.

'Isn't it possible that they didn't
want anyone to know they were here?' she said.

'Possible, my dear young woman, but
improbable. Of whom would they be afraid? Other bandits? I doubt it.
And certainly not travellers like us. No, no, there were no bandits here last night and Tegana
lied because he had no intention of bringing water back to us.'

'But without the condensation we'd've
died of thirst,' Ian exclaimed.

'That is my point, Chesterton.'

'But why would he have let that
happen?' Barbara asked.

'I have my theory,' the Doctor replied,
rubbing his hands together whilst eyeing Ian and Barbara
conspiratorially, 'but let us see what happens next.'

At dawn, after a peaceful night, the
caravan left the oasis and travelled south-east towards the city of
Tun-Huang some thirty leagues away. It took them six uneventful days
to cover the distance and when Susan saw the city on the horizon she
remarked to Ping-Cho that she had never seen so many spires before.

'Tun-Huang is a city famous for its
temples,' Ping-Cho replied and Barbara who was riding alongside them
asked if the Caves of the Thousand Buddhas were in the vicinity.

'Yes, they are,' Ping-Cho replied.

'And the Cave of Five Hundred Eyes,
Barbara,' Marco added and asked if she had ever seen any drawings of
it. Barbara admitted that she had never even heard of it but the name
intrigued her.

'On the walls are carved the faces of
two hundred and fifty evil men who lived there,' Marco explained.
They were called the Hashashins.'

'Hashashins,' Susan repeated.

'So named because they used a drug
called hashish,' Marco added.

'Are any of them still alive?' Susan
asked. Marco shook his head and said they were all
put to the sword twenty years previously by a great Mongol conqueror
named Hulagu.

'But the cave is haunted,' Marco added,
'and at night their eyes glow.'

'How fascinating,' Barbara replied.
Marco cautioned her to beware but Barbara laughed and said she wasn't
scared of ghosts.

'I know a story about Hulagu and the
Hashashins,' Ping-Cho said.

'Tell it to us,' Susan asked.

'Not now, Susan. Later, when we are at
the way-station,' she said, explaining that it needed preparation.
Marco winked at her.

The way-station was similar to the one
they had stayed in at Lop, with comfortable accommodation and good
food. Chenchu, the manager, was a chubby little Chinese who greeted
them extravagantly and showed them to their rooms. Under the Doctor's
supervision, with Ian as an on-looker, the wagon with the TARDIS was
placed in the central courtyard. When the Mongol bearers left, the
Doctor nudged Ian in the ribs.

'Now that we shall be staying in places
like this from time to time, I shall be able to start work,' he
muttered.

'I don't quite grasp your meaning,
Doctor,' Ian replied.

'The circuit, dear boy, the energy
distributor.'

'Aren't you forgetting something?'

The Doctor waved a dismissive hand in
the air. 'Everyone'll be much less vigilant so I shall be able to
sneak into the TARDIS and get on with it.'

'But you handed over the key to Marco
at the oasis.'

'A key, Chesterton.' The Doctor raised
the forefinger of his right hand to emphasise the point. 'Not that he
would know how to use it.'

'Have you got what I think you've got?'
Ian grinned mischievously.

'You don't think I spent the entire
night sleeping, do you?' The Doctor sounded quite indignant. Ian
chuckled.

'You made another.' The Doctor widened
his eyes in innocence. 'Why, you sly old fox,' Ian exclaimed.

They all bathed and changed into the
flowing silk robes provided by Chenchu, and once refreshed went
downstairs for their evening meal. The Doctor, as the doyen of the
caravan, was once again jauntily wearing a mandarin's hat and they
dined on sesame seed pings followed by soochow chiang, a delicious
mixture of pork, mushrooms and bamboo shoots served with a succulent
sauce and rice wine. When everyone was finished, Marco suggested they
should drink their tea in the way-station's lounge. As they were
going through to it, Susan saw Ping-Cho slip away upstairs. She began
to follow her but Marco stopped her gently with his hand.

'Come and take your tea,' he said
smiling and led her into the room.

When Ping-Cho returned, Susan didn't
recognise her at first. She was wearing a long robe in blue silk with
a high collar that came up to her jaw line. Over the robe she wore a
knee-length red silk jacket with narrow lapels and billowing sleeves,
which was secured around her waist by a yellow sash knotted on one side. Both were richly brocaded,
the sash with small butterflies of every colour, the jacket with
fawns and flowers and gold and silver stars on the lapels. Slipped
over her fingertips were long rainbow-hued nails and in each hand she
held an open fan delicately decorated with scenes of people walking
in luxuriant Chinese gardens. Her face was powdered white, her cheeks
rose, her lips a soft red and her eyes thinly lined in black up to
her temples. From her ears hung short fine gold chains with a cluster
of small pearls at the ends. Her hair was piled high on her head and
kept in place by three sculptured combs, the two outer ones being
coral and the centre one ivory.

She entered the room with short
shuffling steps which made her appear as though she were floating.
She stopped, fluttered her fans, and bowed. Everyone, even Tegana,
applauded and she began to tell her story in a lilting voice at the
same time miming it with appropriate gestures of her arms, hands and
fans: 'Gracious maidens, gentle lords Pray attend me while I tell my
tale Of Ala-eddin, the Old Man of the Mountains Who by devious
schemes, evil designs And foul murders ruled the land. No host of
arms, no vast array Of banners served this wicked lord They were but
few, ruthless, reckless men Who obeyed his cruel commands. Thus did
he persuade them: Promising paradise, he gave his followers A potent
draught and while they slept Transported them to a vale where streams
Of milk and honey, wine and water flowed.

Here were gardens and flowers in bloom
Of every hue and essence, here, too
Golden pavilions that outshone the sun,
And even the stars of heaven envied
The bejewelled interiors strewn
With silks, tapestries and treasures.
Hand-maidens, dulcet-voiced, soft of face
Attended them and thus bemused
Did they dwell in this man-made paradise
Until Ala-eddin, intent upon some evil deed,
Proffered again the hashish draught
And brought them sleeping to his castle.
Awakening, they cried "are we cast out
Of paradise?" "Not so, go abroad,
Seek out my enemies and strike them down
But care not for your lives.
Paradise is eternal." Thus terror
Stalked the land for many years
Until the day came mighty Hulagu
To stand before Ala-eddin's lair
For three long years in siege
And thus fell Ala-eddin and the Hashashins.
Now honest hands reap harvests of life
From the soil where death and evil reigned
And those who journey through the vale
In wonder are heard to say
"Tis truly paradise today." '

Ping-Cho fluttered her fans in front of
her face and bowed as everyone stood up applauding and crowding
around her.

'That was delightful, my dear,
congratulations,' the Doctor said.