The King's Dragon (12 page)

Get some shut-eye. We'll talk again in the morning.'

Then he strode out of the room, whistling, a young man confident that his considerable strength would be enough.

The Teller chased after him. 'Beol, we owe these people nothing! You're going to get yourself killed!'

Amy whistled softly to herself. So many stories; stories that had not been true when they were first told, but were now taking on lives of their own, twisting round and turning true... The people of Dant had sent spies to Geath and now they were
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coming to claim their dragon...

Time to get back to the Doctor and Rory. But could she get there before they were seized by Beol's men? She glanced across the room to the arch through which the two brothers had left. No point going that way; she would only be following them. Most likely she would arrive just in time to see the boys dragged off. She would only end up having to prise them out of the stocks.

'Oh, now that's a tempting image...'

However, and with regret, Amy turned back the way she had come, setting off at a run in search of another, quicker way round to the council chamber.

Her head pounded with unanswered questions: Where had Beol and the Teller found the dragon?

Who had they been before arriving in Geath? And who, out of all the parties now laying claim to it, had the best claim to all the Enamour?

As the wings of the dragon extended and lifted, its head bent forwards until the snout almost touched the ground. The wings spread out as the dragon eased them effortlessly apart, gears and metal smooth despite long centuries lying dormant.

The Doctor hung back for a moment. When nothing rose up, writhed forwards or jumped out, he went to see what treasure lay within.

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'Ah! Now I understand!'

Reaching inside the dragon, he triumphantly lifted aloft a madly intricate piece of equipment, a tangle of wires hanging down from it like tentacles.

'Emotional amplifier! Now we know why the Teller's been getting such a high level of audience appreciation.'

'Do we?' said Rory, bewildered.

The Doctor, who had been thumping buttons and twiddling dials, peered at him. 'Ah. Of course. No technobabble. Take a guess, Rory. What do you think an emotional amplifier might do?'

Hilthe stepped forwards to peer at the device.

The Doctor shook it. It went
ping.
'Might it amplify emotion, by any chance?' Hilthe said.

'Spot on! Gold star! Second thoughts, not gold. It does indeed amplify emotions. Someone tells you a story and if you're within the range, the whole experience becomes more affecting, more meaningful. I've no problem with them for personal use - they're great for repeats; honestly, you can recapture the experience of watching the first time - but I'm not so happy about them being used on a big audience. And when combined with Enamour...' He gave Hilthe a knowing look.

'No wonder you've had problems getting out the core vote. There's Beol, offering people the kind
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of riches they've never dreamed of, and there's the Teller, turning the King's exploits into the pre-industrial equivalent of a box-office smash.

Good old-fashioned tub-thumping didn't stand a chance. Sorry, Hilthe. If it's any consolation, it's the same old story, wherever you go - the first to get the hang of the new communications medium always wins.'

'No apology necessary, Doctor,' Hilthe said briskly. 'If anything, I do feel slightly better knowing there was no decline in my own abilities.'

'Good for you!'

'But how did the Teller work out how to use this emo-amp-thingie?' Rory said. 'How did he operate it?'

'I don't think he did,' the Doctor said. 'I think the amplifier was on standby, and when he dug up the dragon - whenever and wherever that happened -

it reactivated. It would have started working for him without him knowing what was happening. I bet he was amazed to discover his stories were getting such good reception at last. Give him his due - he's known how to make the most of it all.'

'So this must be what the Regulator is using?'

Rory said. 'Emotional amplifiers. Only they know how to use them properly.'

'Another not-gold star! Now, the Regulator has been amplifying different emotions. It stirs up
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fear and anxiety in order to frighten people into doing what it wants. The Teller has been whipping up excitement and enthusiasm. People feel that something special is happening, and they want to be part of it. They want to get close to it.'

'So that's why all anyone can talk about is the King?' Rory said, remembering the Beol-centric conversation in the hall.

'Exactly! It doesn't feel anywhere near as unpleasant as what the Regulator is doing, but it's still a kind of coercion. Most fads and fashions are when you think about it. On top of that, the effects of Enamour aren't stable. People are going to want more and more. They'll want more of the metal and they'll want more impact from the Teller's stories. He and Beol will have to deliver, or else public opinion will turn against them, and the backlash won't be pretty. Emotions are already running high.' The Doctor paused, the amplifier still in his hand. 'Of course, the Regulator will blow us up first. I'd better not forget about that.'

'Please don't,' said Rory.

But the Doctor had returned to rummaging inside the belly of the beast. 'Now, what else do we have here? Ah, this is very interesting...' He popped back out again, carrying a black and silver box topped by an impossibly tiny satellite dish. 'Take a seat, both of you. This is something you
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should see.'

Rory ran across to the arcade and brought back two chairs, one for him and one for Hilthe. They both sat down. The Doctor played around with the box for a few moments. The dish started spinning wildly. 'That should do it!' He aimed it up at the roof.

Rory and Hilthe both looked up to see images dancing across the dome of the chamber. The colours were richer and deeper than in the images the Regulator had transmitted. Rory burst out laughing. 'IMAX! Nice one, Doctor!'

Hilthe stared at the display in amazement.

'Earlier, the Regulator showed us pictures of my city from above. I do not recognise these places that you are showing me.'

The Doctor smiled. 'I know you don't need my approval, Mother, but I've still got to say... you're very quick. Very quick indeed. No, this is different.

The Regulator showed us what was happening outside, right at the moment we were watching.

Live broadcast. But these are pictures from the past — from the Herald's past and the Regulator's past. I think if we watch them we'll learn a whole lot more about the nature of the feud between the Feond.

Perhaps by the end, we'll have a better idea which one of them should be given the metal.' He glanced at Rory, who was about to answer, and
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put a finger to his lips. 'Take a look before you say anything more.'

'But, Doctor—'

'Pretty pictures! Free movie!'

Rory sighed, folded his arms, and leaned back in his chair. As he watched, high above him, the story of a brutal civil war unfolded. It was a war that had taken place millennia ago between people alien to everyone in the room. An ancient golden empire, ruled by the Bright Nobles of the Feond, was shredded by a violent revolution. It began on a small world at the fringes of their territory and spread across planets and systems and centuries.

The images shifted, and changed, showing the bloodshed on every single one of the empire's thousands of worlds, with the armies of the imperial families on one side, and the militias formed by its servants and bonds-people on the other. They watched as the habitations of the Bright Nobles were torched in the first attacks by the rebels. They saw the bloody reprisals, as the ruling party burned the ecologies of insurrectionist worlds into desolation.

They watched the agonies and destruction of total interplanetary war. And they sat through the vicious endgame, when the Imperial Lord of Light himself was at last caught in the catacombs below the Celestial Hall, trapped amongst the bones and the tombs of his

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ancestors, and was slaughtered with his last loyal legion of Bright Lords. They saw the Thirteen, the representatives of the Oversight Committee, raise their black flag amidst the charred ruins of the Hall and start to squabble over the reconstruction. Last of all, they saw lifeboats disappear into the void of space, the last remnants of the noble households making their escape, fleeing into exile with whatever remained of all they had once possessed, sustained by dreams of a glorious restoration.

The images came to an end. 'A choice between aristocrats and bureaucrats,' the Doctor muttered.

'Why is nothing ever simple?' He glanced over at Hilthe. 'You see now that you made the right decision, Mother?'

'Yes.' She nodded slowly. 'Yes, I do see that now. To use tools such as this, even in defence...

Soon enough they would be used in anger.' She shuddered. 'I would not want a repeat of all that I have seen here. Not in Geath. Not for anything.'

'Said you were wise.'

Hilthe tilted her head, permitting the compliment this time. 'The sooner the city is free of these terrible devices the better. Doctor, let me hear your counsel. What would you advise?'

'We have to hand it over to the Herald,' Rory said quickly. 'She hasn't shot at us. Giving in to the Regulator would be like giving in to blackmail.

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Wouldn't it? They've threatened us. That's like...

terrorists!'

The Doctor flicked the tiny satellite dish, setting it spinning like a gyroscope. 'However,' he said, 'the Regulators

clearly

understand

how

dangerous

Enamour is. They saw how it was used to control their people, to maintain that perfect society.

Perhaps that's why they're reacting so strongly.'

Rory appealed to Hilthe. 'Can't you explain?

She spoke through you—'

Hilthe held up her hand to stop him. 'Doctor, am I correct in my assumption that what we saw was an account of the war seen through the eyes of the Herald and her people?'

'Yes, I think that's right.'

Hilthe turned to Rory. 'If we were to ask the Regulators, we might hear a very different version of why this war was fought.' She frowned. 'It strikes me that the Herald chose her vessel and her mouthpiece very carefully. Who else in Geath would be so receptive to the idea of a restoration? Who else in Geath has longed as much as I have to see the old order return? The Herald and her masters are plainly very clever. I do not trust them as much as you trust them. And the reason that I do not trust is because I am in many ways very like them.' She gave the Doctor a wry smile and he smiled back.

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'So,' Hilthe said to him, 'returning to my original question. What would you advise, Doctor?'

'First, I think we should get the dragon out into the main plaza. The Regulator said it was monitoring our progress. Moving it would be the best demonstration of progress we could make.'

He stared at the dragon for a moment and then started shoving bits of alien wires and technology into his improbably capacious pocket. 'Also, it will be one less temptation round here.'

Rory watched him in disbelief. 'Doctor, how exactly do we go about moving a massive golden dragon without anybody noticing?'

The Doctor threw the amplifier back inside the dragon. It landed with a clatter. He held up a finger.

'Working on that one! Working on that one right now!'

'Doctor, we won't get as far as the front door!'

'Maybe not.' The Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver and used it to seal up the dragon again. 'But I'm guessing that the people of Geath might be glad to see the back of the thing. It's hardly been a good night for them, after all.' He bent down to look underneath the dragon. 'Is this thing on wheels?'

'After this evening, I'll admit that anything is possible,' Hilthe said. 'But you'll have to persuade Beol first.'

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'Beol,' muttered the Doctor, as he stood up again. 'Don't talk to me about—Ah, Beol! There you are!' He goggled at him. 'What a
spectacular
hat!'

'Doctor!' Beol stood in the doorway of the council chamber, magnificent in his dragon armour and helmet. 'Why am I not surprised to see you here?'

135

Beol strode across the
chamber towards them. Four of his knights followed him, and behind them came a fraught-looking Teller.

'It is most strange!' said the King. 'Only a few short hours ago my guests were shown to their rooms - the best rooms that I can offer! - and yet here they are, in the dead of night, skulking round the council chamber... What, I wonder, could have brought them here?'

'Yes.' The Doctor jerked his thumb at the dragon.

'Well, that, obviously. And your Teller has already done that joke. Very good, though. Did you think of it yourself?'

Beol glanced at Hilthe. 'I confess that I'm
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surprised to find you here, Mother. I thought you held Geath's interests at heart.' Hilthe opened her mouth to protest, but Beol turned away from her to speak to his knights. 'Take them away.'

'Now hold on a moment!' The Doctor ran to take cover behind the dragon, dragging Rory after him. 'Beol, I don't know what you think is going on here, but I can absolutely one hundred per cent guarantee that you're wrong. You're so wrong that right now whole new scales of wrongness are being calibrated simply to encompass the sheer magnitude of wrong... This isn't winning you over, is it?'

'Beol,' said the Teller. 'He's a clown but I think you should listen to him—'

Beol raised his hand. 'I know already what you have to say, Doctor. I admit I do not understand how you have conjured up these strange apparitions, but my Teller has already explained that they are not demons or monsters, but simply mechanical. If men have made them, I can master them.'