Doctor Who: Marco Polo (10 page)

'Where's my ship, Polo? What have you
done with it?' he demanded. Marco looked perplexed.

'I haven't touched it, Doctor.
Honestly.'

'To what does the old lord refer?'
Wang-Lo asked haughtily.

'His caravan,' Marco replied, 'it was
out there.' He pointed to the courtyard. Wang-Lo put the back of his
right hand to his forehead.

'Oh, that's what it is. One had it
removed to the stables.'

'The stables!' The Doctor exploded.

'One could hardly leave it under the
hanging gardens, now could one?'

'Oh, yes, one could.' The Doctor was
acerbic. 'What does one imagine it is, a bathing hut?' Marco reminded
him about the caravan being taken to Shang-Tu with a commercial
convoy.

'So you will need to accustom yourself
to not seeing it for a while,' he said.

The Doctor seethed inwardly as Marco
turned to Wang-Lo and asked him when the next convoy left for
Shang-Tu.

'One departs tomorrow in the morning,'
Wang-Lo replied.

'Does one?' the Doctor replied, still
smarting.

'One knows one does, my lord.' Wang-Lo
sounded authoritative. The Doctor stormed out as Ping-Cho had an idea
and went to the hanging gardens to think it over. There was a
fountain and a pool in the centre with lotus leaves floating on the surface
under which goldfish ducked in and out. She sat on the edge of the
pool watching them when Susan came over to her. Ping-Cho looked up,
smiled and pointed to one of the fish. 'That one is Wang-Lo,' she
said, 'fat and pompous.' 'There's Marco,' Susan observed, pointing to
another, 'a little solemn and look, that one has Ian's energy,' as
one swam rapidly by.

'Barbara's independence.' Ping-Cho
pointed at one which was on its own. Another sped from under a lotus
leaf to disappear under another. 'You,' Ping-Cho giggled. 'There's
grandfather,' said Susan, pointing to an elderly goldfish with pride
of place under the biggest lotus leaf. 'Now, where are you?' Susan
asked, and then spotted a frilled goldfish. 'There you are with the
wedding veil,' she exclaimed, and instantly regretted it. 'Forgive
me, Ping-Cho, I'm sorry.' Ping-Cho touched her hand.

'I miss Samarkand,' she confessed, 'I
miss my home.' Susan sat beside her. 'Tell me about it.' 'It's a
welcoming house that wants people to live in it. There is a garden,
rather like this one but not as elaborate but still very beautiful,
and in the summer evenings the air is filled with a thousand scents
as well as the soft, tiny sounds of humming birds' wings. I used to
watch them for hours as they hovered in front of the flowers drawing
off the nectar.' Ping-Cho looked back into the water. 'I would like
to be there now.' 'I can understand. You make it sound lovely.' 'And
your home, Susan, is it so very far away?' 'As far as a night star.'
'But you can reach it from Venice?' 'Not without the TARDIS.'

'So, if Messer Marco gives your caravan
to Kublai Khan, you will never see your home again.'

'Never.'

Ping-Cho put one hand to her lips. 'I
gave him my word, Susan, I promised not to tell anyone where he hid
the keys.'

'And I promise no one will ask you,'
Susan replied with a smile.

Ping-Cho complained of feeling faint
whilst they were at table and excused herself. Susan offered to help
her to their room but Ping-Cho declined and insisted that Susan
finish her meal. As soon as she was upstairs, Ping-Cho slipped into
Marco's room, opened his journal which was lying on the table and
stole one of the keys from the compartment in the back. Then she went
to their room, lay down on her bed and waited for Susan who came as
soon as she had eaten. Ping-Cho sat up.

'How do you feel?' Susan sounded
anxious.

'Fine. What did you have as the main
dish?'

'Chicken-fat braised carp. It was
delicious and I'm sorry you missed it.'

'So am I,' Ping-Cho pouted, 'but I had
something to do and I have this to give you.' She held out the key
and Susan's eyes widened in surprise.

'But you promised Marco.'

'Not to tell anyone where they were.
I've kept my word. You don't know where this came from.' Susan sat on
the edge of the bed beside her.

'Marco will be very angry,' Susan
warned. Ping-Cho smiled at her.

'But one of us, at least, will be on
her way home,' she said wistfully and they hugged each other.

After he had drunk his tea Marco went
into Lan-Chow to make final arrangements for the caravan's journey to
Shang-Tu. At the same time Tegana went to the stables to make travel
arrangements for the TARDIS with a shifty-eyed thin man named Kuiju
who looked at it suspiciously.

'What is it, my lord?' he asked warily.

'A W'ar Lord's tomb which I want,'
Tegana replied. "Can you have it taken?' Kuiju bared his
opium-stained teeth in a smile.

'Are you prepared to pay a good price?'

'How much?'

'I want gold, not Kublai Khan's paper
money.'

'You'll have it.'

'In advance.' Kuiju rubbed his hands
together.

'Half of it, the rest when I collect
the tomb. How much?'

'One hundred golden pieces.'

'So be it.'

Kuiju could hardly believe his good
fortune. 'When do I receive the first half, my lord?'

'Tonight. For this must start its
journey tomorrow. I shall give you instructions when we meet again.'

'The street of the beggars at
midnight,' Kuiju suggested.

'I shall be there.'

'As I shall, my lord,' Kuiju said and
scurried off into the night. Tegana looked at the flying caravan and
stroked his chin.

'A War Lord's tomb,' he mused, 'more
than that. A Khan's throne for Noghai.'

The Doctor's wrath about his ship had
been temporarily assuaged by the quality of the evening meal and when
Susan knocked lightly on his door he called out gaily for whoever it
was to enter. Ping-Cho was with her and closed the door behind them.

'You are recovered, young lady,' he
observed, 'that pleases me. How may I be of service to you both?'

'It's Ping-Cho who has been of service
to us. grandfather,' Susan replied. 'Look.' Ping-Cho opened her left
hand and in the palm lay the key.

'I shall not ask questions, sweet
person, rather shall I express my everlasting gratitude.' The Doctor
took the key from her and put it in the pocket of his jacket which,
having been cleaned, hung on the wall. 'We shall wait until all is
quiet before we take our leave,' he said and, smiling at Ping-Cho,
added that he would entrust them to notify Barbara and Ian. When they
had left, the Doctor decided to allow himself the luxury of another
small glass of the mellow white wine they had enjoyed with their
meal. Shao Chiu was its name, he recalled, as he went downstairs, sat
in the lounge and ordered one. He was rolling some appreciatively
around his mouth and reflecting on their adventures of the past weeks
when Marco came in. The Doctor swallowed the wine.

'Join me in a glass, Polo?' he asked.

'Thank you, Doctor.' Marco pulled up a
chair as the Doctor clicked his fingers for service and ordered the
wine.

'The arrangements are satisfactorily
made for the rest of the journey to Shang-Tu, Doctor,' Marco said.

'Knowing you, Polo, I do not doubt it.'

'Horses will be here for us at dawn and
the bearers will see our wagons safely charged before returning to
Su-Chow. We'll ride until midday, stop at a wayside inn for a meal
and ride on until dusk.'

'No jingling bells, I trust.' Marco
laughed.

'We won't be riding as hard as
Ling-Tau.'

'An agreeable young man,' the Doctor
observed and Marco reiterated that their journey would take them
eight days. 'There'll be a few aches and pains at the end of that,'
the Doctor added lightly, thinking all the time that they'd be long
since gone into another age and another galaxy when Marco reached the
summer palace. Marco drained his glass and stood up.

'I must write up my journal, Doctor, so
I'll bid you goodnight.'

'Useful thing, keeping a record of
events, Polo. Goodnight.' As Marco went up to his room, the Doctor
took some more wine and began rolling it around his mouth.

They put their plan into operation
after midnight when the way-station staff were asleep. They tip-toed
out onto the courtyard and around to the stables. Ping-Cho was with
them to wave goodbye, as she put it. The Doctor was vexed that there
wasn't a guard on his ship.

'Anyone could steal it,' he said
indignantly.

'Like us,' Ian murmured with a grin.
The Doctor clambered up onto the wagon. Ping-Cho ran over to him and
kissed the back of his hand.

'Goodbye, kind lord,' she whispered.

'Farewell, gentle maiden,' the Doctor
replied, 'and refuse to marry someone old enough to be my
grandfather.' Ping-Cho went to Barbara and Ian in turn to say
goodbye, leaving Susan until the last. They embraced with tears in
their eyes as the Doctor put the key into the lock.

'For a moment I thought you were going
with them. Ping-Cho,' Marco's voice came out of the darkness. 'No,
Doctor, if you look into the gloom you will see that you are
completely surrounded by my bearers, all of whom are armed as I am,
and as Susan is not yet up there with you, it would be pointless
trying to dash for freedom. So come down, please, and give me the
key.' The Doctor withdrew the key from the lock and Barbara and Ian
helped him to the ground. He handed Marco the key without a word.

'Yes, Doctor, you're right, it is a
useful thing." Marco said enigmatically as the Doctor walked
back into the way-station.

At dawn the Doctor stood in front of
the TARDIS looking up at it, when Marco and Tegana came over to him.

'Your horse is saddled, Doctor, and we
must start our journey,' Marco spoke gently. The Doctor's eyes were
cold when he turned to face him.

'Do I have your word as, I suppose, a
gentleman, that my flying caravan, as you call it, will safely reach
the Khan's summer palace?'

'On my oath,' Marco replied, which
Tegana thought was a huge joke knowing that Kuiju would come to
collect it once they had ridden from Lan-Chow.

The wagon in the stable, my lord, I am
here to take it,' Kuiju handed Wang-Lo an official-looking document
with wax seals and pointed to the relevant clauses.

'One can read, fellow,' Wang-Lo
retorted, although secretly he was impressed by the seals. 'Take it.'
Turning his back he went into the way-station.

During their midday meal at an inn,
Marco broached the subject of the key.

'How did you come by it?' he asked the
Doctor.

'It was given to me,' the Doctor
replied, looking at him directly.

'By whom?' Ping-Cho opened her mouth to
speak but Ian was quicker.

'Me. I searched your room when you were
in Lan-Chow last night and found it.' Dismissing the subject, Ian
turned to Barbara and asked her to pass him the red sauce.

'You mean the Hoy Sien Jeung,' Barbara
smiled as she handed it to him. Marco said nothing.

They rode on for two days without
incident except that Susan noticed Ping-Cho becoming more and more
taciturn. She recognised the symptom of homesickness. For his part,
the Doctor spent his time dreaming of the hot bath he would wallow in
to ease his saddle-weary bones when they stopped in the evening.
Barbara and Ian enjoyed the countryside and the meandering river while Tegana
looked with cynical amusement at the Great Wall which he estimated
must have taken at least two centuries to build. Marco would have
preferred to force the pace but out of respect for the Doctor
contented himself with their progress. However, two crises were
building. The first was triggered by Barbara after dinner in a
way-station when she insisted that Ian talk to Marco about returning
the TARDIS to them.

'It's pointless,' he said. 'I've tried
again and again." Just then Marco came into the lounge.

'Ian wants to talk to you,' she said
and, adding that she was tired, went up to her room. Marco looked at
Ian who remained silent.

'What is it?' he asked. Ian thought for
a moment before replying with measured words.

'You must give us back the Doctor's
flying caravan.' Marco turned away in exasperation.

'You know what it means to me. If I
give it to Kublai Khan, he will let me go home to Venice.'

'We want to go home, too. And without
it, we can't.'

'I have promised to take you to Venice
with me and see you safely on your way home from there.'

'By boat. But we can't go by boat. We
need the Doctor's caravan.' Marco looked at Ian for several seconds.

'Why, Ian?' he asked. 'Why?' Ian closed
his eyes and when he opened them he knew he would tell the truth.

'My home is in England, Marco,' he
said.

'You've said so before and I grant it's
a long way. But the journey is not impossible. The Crusaders did it.' Ian took a deep breath.

'Marco, for me the Crusaders lived
nearly seven hundred years ago.' For a moment, Marco looked puzzled
and then shook his head.

'That's ridiculous, Ian. The Crusaders
were in Accra less than twenty five years ago.' Ian looked at him in
desperation.

'Don't you understand? We come from
another time.'

'That's impossible.'

'The Doctor's caravan doesn't only
cover distances. It crosses years, centuries.'

'Journeys into the past and into the
future,' Marco said, smiling.

'Yes. I know it's hard to believe but
it's true. I swear it. Look at our clothes, listen to the way we
talk. Everything's different.'

'I have never been to England but I
have heard that the English are an eccentric race.' Marco took the
gold chain with the Khan's seal from under his blouse. On it hung the
two keys, one of which he held between his forefinger and thumb.